#dipitin5sauce one shot

[sheslostinreality]

“When You Love Someone”

Summary: (based on the song written by James TW.) Divorced parents imagine...

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You bent down to your knees and straightened out your ten-year-old son’s clothing. You tucked his white shirt inside his khakis and zipped up his sweater. You took his shoe laces and double knotted each of them. You looked at your boy; his eyes were just like yours but his facial features a younger replica of his father. “You be good in school today, alright?” you sounded hopeful. The effects of divorced parents were definitely taking a toll on him.

He nodded, “Yes, mum.”

You put the straps of his Spider-Man backpack over his shoulders. “You’re going to your dad’s house tonight, are you excited?”

He just shrugged. His eyes were avoidant. Your son was tapping his feet, his hands fidgeting. He was getting antsy as you got him ready for school. “Is your sleeping bag packed?” you asked him. He nodded. “Good,” you smiled, “Daddy will pick you up after school. Have you memorized Mummy’s number?” He nodded again. “I want you to ring me if you need anything, okay?” You son nodded. “Take care your sister, okay?” Another nod. “Say ‘yes, Mummy,’” you instructed.

“Yes, Mummy,” he said forcibly.

“Wait for me in the car,” you told your son. He opened the front door and made a run for the car. You let out a deep sigh when your son was far enough not to hear. You wipe the small tear that escape the corner of your eye. It had been four months and he wasn’t getting better. He wasn’t always this quiet or short with words. He used to be a happy child, filled with excitement and energy. He had such a strong imagination and need for play. But ever since the divorce, your son hadn’t been the same. He laughed sparingly and smiled seldomly. A once talkative boy became quiet and overly calm. He didn’t play outside with his friends anymore; instead he played with his cars and superhero action figures alone in his room.

“Sweetie,” you called out to your little daughter who was slouched over by the couch, persistently trying to put on the velcro shoes her grandmother, Anne, bought her. “Are you ready?”

“I need help, Mummy,” she fussed.

You walked over to assist her. You slipped her tiny feet into her shoes and pulled the straps over just tight enough. “There we go,” you said.

“Thank you, Mummy,” she smiled. Your daughter had chosen her own outfit for kindergarten that day. She chose a pink princess shirt with ruffles at the bottom and baby blue jeans. You had plaited her curly brown hair in pigtails.

“You’re staying Daddy’s house this weekend,” you told her. “I want you to be good, okay? Listen to your brother. No fighting. And no giving Daddy a hard time, okay?”

She nodded as her little braids motioned with her.

“I’ll come by Sunday night to pick you up.”

“Okay,” was all she said.

Your daughter was still young. The effects of your divorce wasn’t as apparent or intense with her as it was with your son. It hadn’t quite registered in her the changes taking place in the family. She wasn’t aware Mummy and Daddy were “divorced”. She couldn’t comprehend its meaning. All she knew was Daddy lived somewhere else. Occasionally she would raise questions. But only simple, shallow answers would be provided, like: “Daddy likes living at his house better.”

You strapped your two children inside the vehicle before driving off to their school. Your son let himself out while you walked your daughter to her classroom. You instructed her to wait for her brother after school. You reminded her teacher her father was going to be picking the kids up that day— not you. As a result of the divorced, you’ve developed a closer relationship with your children’s teachers respectively. There was an open communication to update and keep informed in regards to home and school situations of each child. Your daughter didn’t have any significant problems. It was your son who began struggling to pay attention, refused to turn in— let alone do his assignments, and scored poorly on tests.

When you got to your office, you texted Harry, your now ex-husband, a reminder.

“Hello, H. It’s your weekend with the kids… Please pick them up from school at 3PM SHARP. Don’t be late! Call me if anything comes up. Thx.”

Everything with Harry was kept professional and civil— especially in front the kids. Neither of you wanted the two children to see their parents constantly bickering and fighting. The separation, and ultimately the divorce, helped limit that. When the two of you were still married and living under the same room, there wasn’t a night without yelling or screaming. It was true— Harry was ultimately a genuinely kind man. However, if the right buttons were pushed, you would come to find he had quite the temper hidden inside him. Harry’s career and continuous absence and support with the children was often the cause of the fighting, amongst other things. You felt abandoned and left alone to shoulder the majority of the family responsibilities. You and Harry tried your absolute hardest to resolve martial issues— you even sought help from a marriage counselor. Nothing helped. Divorce was not something the two of you anticipated or even prepared for in the case of. For the longest time, the two of you avoided the considering the possibility. But you had to do what was best for the children.

It wasn’t a healthy environment for them. You and Harry were setting a poor example. You did not want them developing or imitating bad habits demonstrated by their parents. In addition, it wasn’t healthy for you and Harry either to remain in an unhappy, toxic marriage. You loved each other with all your hearts but sometimes… things just don’t work out. As much as you wanted them to.

It was nearing three o’clock when you received a phone call from your son’s teacher. “Ms. [your maiden name], I need you to come see me after school. I would like to discuss with you and Mr. Styles your son’s behavior. He was caught fighting with his classmates in the yard today.”

You sighed, looking at the stack of paperwork before you that was never going to get done. “Sure, alright, I’ll be there,” you hung up.

You rushed to the school. You arrived to a Harry sitting on the bench outside of the classroom. He stood up when he caught sight of you.

“[Your Name],” he said. He opened his arms to you, and gave you a friendly hug. “I was waiting for yeh.”

“Is he inside?” you asked.

Harry nodded, “Ready?”

You nodded and headed for the door. Harry held the door open for you as you walked inside to find your son sitting in one of the chairs, his eyes down on his lap and his feet swinging back and forth. Your daughter was inside as well. She was sat on the floor with a picture book open on her lap.

“Daddy! Mummy!” she exclaimed when her father walked in. She jumped up, dropping the book, and ran to her father first.

“Hi Sweetie,” Harry smiled, kissing his daughter on the top of her head. “You go on an’ read your book, alrigh’? Mummy and I need to talk to Mrs. Holland for a minute. But give Mummy a kiss first.”

Your daughter did as told. She walked over to you and placed a soft kiss on your cheek before going back to her book. Your son made no change of movement. Zero acknowledgement of his parents entrance.

You and Harry sat in the two seats provided in front of the teacher’s desk. Mrs. Holland spoke softly and quietly to avoid any peering ears. She explained your son had gotten into a fight with one of his classmates. Word had gotten out that his parents were divorced and was being teased by one of the boys. Your son apparently swung a fist at the boy, giving him a back eye. Mrs. Holland understood your son’s reaction and change in behavior, relating it to the current family situation.

“We’ll have a chat with him,” Harry assured her. “We’re very sorry. We’ll send the boy a card, or something.”

You were tight lipped to keep from smiling, catching Harry’s sarcasm. Neither of you were upset nor disappointed at your son. You found no fault in his reaction. Rather, you felt guilty for a sudden bullying he was facing at school. The two of you thanked the teacher for her time and made your way to the parking lot.

Harry started his car and turned on the air conditioning. He strapped in your daughter on her carseat and shut the door. You and Harry then turned to your son who had his back to the door and his eyes afraid to catch yours. He felt in trouble. He knew what he did was unacceptable.

“Hey Little Man,” Harry said calmly. Finally his eyes looked up, glossy and welding with tears. “I’m sorry, daddy,” his lips quivered. “He was being mean and I got mad.”

Harry nodded, “I understand. You don’t have to cry.” Harry took his thumb to wipe away his son’s falling tears. “What did your classmate do?”

“He—he said I don’t have a mummy and daddy anymore,” he said in between sobs. “He said it’s my fault you and Mummy aren’t together anymore.”

Your heart sank at those words. You looked up to the air to dry the water in your eyes. Harry looked up at you at a loss for words. You bent down so the three of you were all relatively the same height. “Honey, you know very well that that is not true,” your voice stern and reassuring. “You are not the reason daddy and I are not together anymore.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Your mummy and I love you and your sister more than you can ever imagine.”

“Then why aren’t you together!” he cried out. He stomped his feet and folded his arms across his chest. His pink lips were in a pout as his eyebrows furrowed.

Harry sighed. “Little Man, do you remember when Mummy and Daddy used to fight all the time?” Your son nodded. “Do you see us still fighting?” He shook his head. “Mummy and I are not together because when Mummy and I live together, we fight. We love each other very much but we don’t get along. It’s normal, sometimes. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“And,” you added, “Even if Mummy and Daddy live in different houses, we will always, always be a family. No matter what. Any time you need us, we will always be there for you. That’s a promise. Right, Harry?”

“Mhm,” he answered. “Always. We will always be a family.”

[sheslostinreality]

“He’ll Never Know” Part 2

~ Requested ~ || Requests are open

Summary: [Y/N] and Luke were best friends. [Y/N] liked Luke for a long time but something was always in the way— a girlfriend, a break up... Just as Y/N had given up pining for Luke, Luke realized his feelings for Y/N. But was he too late?

Part One

“You look cute!” your roommate Sarah gushed the minute you walked out of the room in a figure-hugging red dress.

“Do you like it?” you gave your dress a twirl.

“You look really hot,” Sarah told you, “Doesn’t she, Luke?”

Luke hesitated to answer. He cleared his throat, “Uh— yeah. Why are you dressed like that?”

“I’ve got a date,” you smiled. “With Will, my coworker.”

A car honked from outside your apartment. You rushed to your window and saw a familiar BMW parked outside. Will got out of his car and waved to you. “Ready?” he yelled from below.

“I’ll be down in a minute!” you yelled back. You grabbed your purse from the table. “Wish me luck!” you said over your shoulder as you headed out the door.

Luke and Sarah walked over to the window and watched as you and Will drove away. “What does she see in that guy?” Luke asked bitterly, “He looks so… pretentious.”

“He’s cute,” Sarah replied.

“A dog’s cute,” Luke retorted, “Why doesn’t she date Petunia instead?”

Sarah laughed, “Petunia’s a girl, first of all. And second, are you jealous?”

“I’m not jealous!” he exclaimed. Luke groaned in frustration and left the window. He sat back down on the couch and rested his feet on your coffee table. Sarah followed and sat beside him. 

“Well, I think you’re jealous,” Sarah countered.

“What makes you think that?” Luke asked.

Sarah shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe because you don’t have [Y/N]’s attention anymore, and it’s bothering you.”

“It’s not bothering me,” Luke insisted. He folded his arms across his chest and furrowed his brows. Sarah didn’t believe him. And neither did he.

“So, you don’t mind seeing her go on dates with different guys?” Luke kept quiet. “Fine,” Sarah surrendered, “You don’t have to answer. We both know the answer. You missed your shot and now you’re upset.”

It was cycle. For the longest time, you were in love with your best friend, Luke, but something was always in the way. You thought maybe you weren’t meant to be after all. You figured there was no sense in waiting around any longer for a guy who only saw you as a friend. You had coworkers asking you out constantly. Finally you agreed to go out with them. Little did you know Luke began developing feelings for you a few months after his breakup. It wasn’t to rebound after a breakup. He finally realized what was right before him all along. He realized how much you do for him, how much you cared for him, and how much you meant to him. You were the one for him all along. Too bad he was a little too late.

“Do you think I missed my chance?” Luke asked, defeated.

Sarah shrugged, “Maybe. She’s going out with other guys. But, [Y/N]’s liked you for a long time. I don’t think feelings like that shut off that easily.”

Luke buried his face in his hands and let out a frustrated groan. “I’m a dumbass,” he mumbled. “If only I had known…”

“[Y/N] was really private about it,” Sarah told him, “She wanted to tell you but you were dating A or had just broken up with A. It was always bad timing.”

“Do you know if she still likes me?”

“I’m not sure,” Sarah answered honestly, “She’s on a date with another guy.” Luke sighed.

“It’s not game over, though,” Sarah added, “It’s not like they’re boyfriend and girlfriend. You could still tell her how you feel.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way anymore?” Luke worried.

“What if she does?” Sarah reasoned, “At least you tried. Listen, Luke, if [Y/N] means that much to you, you should at least try. You’ll regret it if you don’t. Trust me.”

Luke became all sorts of emotions— confused, scared, nervous… He wondered what hindered you from telling him. It had been eight months since his breakup. Then wondered how long you had been feeling that way. Regardless, Luke knew he wanted to be with you. You were there for him since the beginning. He trusted you more than anyone else. He loved you, he just didn’t know it then. Luke knew he needed to act quickly but he was afraid of the consequences. He didn’t want to lose you if you didn’t feel the same. How were you going to react?

With Sarah’s permission, Luke stayed at your apartment until you arrived back home from your date. The entire time Luke mentally planned how he was going to bring up the subject and confess to you. It was now or never. He couldn’t wait any longer. He braced himself for the worst.

“You’re here,” you said cheerfully when you caught sight of Luke sitting on your sofa. You kicked off your heels and placed your purse on the breakfast island.

“Sarah let me stay over,” he said, “How was your date?”

You just shrugged, “It was fine. I don’t think there’ll be second one, though. We don’t have much in common.” Luke felt a rush of relief run through him. You hiked up your dress and headed to your room to change into comfortable clothes. “But the food was good,” you said from inside your room.

Luke paused the movie he had playing. He walked over and leaned against your doorway. After being friends for so long, it became a normality to change in front of the other.

“Where did you go?” he asked.

“We went to this Italian restaurant downtown. I think you’d like it,” you told him, “Their pizza’s delicious.”

“We should go,” Luke suggested.

“Yeah,” you agreed as you pulled an oversized shirt over your head.

“Like on a date,” Luke caught himself saying.

You froze with the t-shirt still over your head. Did you hear him correctly? “I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked muffled. Suddenly the shirt had misaligned and you couldn’t slide your head through. You were stuck.

Luke walked over slowly. He untangled you and pulled your shirt down over you. “We should go on a date,” he said softly, looking into your eyes. His tone was soft and his expression serious and sincere.

You ran your fingers through your hair, brushing out the messy top.“Like, a friend-date or date-date?” you asked to clarify.

Luke chuckled. “Date-date,” he said.

Your eyes were wide and you were left speechless. Was this really happening? Just when you had given up.

Luke broke the silence. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, [Y/N], I— I like you,” he confessed,  “More than a friend. Sarah told me today that you used to like me, too. I’ve never felt like a bigger idiot than when she told me. This whole time— you’ve always been there for me and I didn’t see it. Now, you’re going out with these guys from work and it pisses me off. I know I have no right to feel this way but I can’t help it. I want to be with you. I want to make you happy the way you have always made me. So if I’m not too late, will you give me a chance?”

“You’re not too late,” you smiled.

Luke grinned from ear to ear, his dimples apparent. He snaked his arms around your waist and pulled your towards him. He looked down into your eyes with adoration and love. You had never looked more beautiful. He saw something he had never seen in anyone else before. He saw hope. Endless possibilities. A future.

A second chance.

[sheslostinreality]

“He’ll Never Know” (Part One)

Part Two

A/N: You are best friends with Luke. You’ve had feelings for him for a while but kept it to yourself. Timing didn’t seem to be on your side. But who knows, life can be a funny thing.

You shut the engine off and unbuckled your seat belt. You got out of your car and walked over to the passenger side to grab the two boxes of pizza. You shut the door behind you. The pizzas rested on one arm, and your keys were in your other hand. You locked your car and made your way towards the front door. You rang the doorbell and waited. No answer. You rang the doorbell once more. Nothing.

"Luke?" you called out. You had keys to his condo but you refused to use them unless absolutely necessary. You looked over your shoulder and to make sure it was his car you saw parked outside. It was. "Hey, Luke, I'm just gonna come in, okay? I've got two boxes of pizzas and they're kind of burning my arm," you said. You fumbled through your keys until you found the key. You slid the key though the lock and turned it over. A breeze of cold air from inside brushed through you once you opened the door.

You saw Luke sitting on his sofa with his face buried in his hands. "Whoa, who died?" you teased. Luke looked up at you but said not a word. His face was colorless. His blue eyes were dull and tired. Dark circles began to form under his eyes. His cheeks were low, and his lips were dry. His blonde hair was flat and unbothered.

"Luke," you said worriedly. You shut the door behind you, dropped the pizzas and your keys on the nearest seat, and rushed to his side. You cupped his face with your hands and tried to read his sad eyes. "What happened? What's wrong?"

"Arzaylea and I--" he shut his eyes tight at the thought.

"What? What happened?" you insisted.

"We broke up," he managed to say.

Your eyes widened in surprise. You took Luke into your arms, hugging him tightly, running your arms vertically on his back as he rested his head on your shoulders. You felt the weight of his heavy sighs. "I'm so sorry, Luke," was all you could say.

Luke and Arzaylea had been an item for quite some time. You saw things get serious when Luke asked Arzaylea to move in with him. You didn't know Arzaylea all that well but she made Luke happy; and if Luke's happy, you’re happy. Admittedly, it hurt to see the guy you loved love someone else, but you weren't going to stand in the way of them. You believed if you and Luke were meant to be, that this friendship could be something more, then life would find a way to bring you two together. You felt a glimmer of hope when you heard those three words. That hope didn't come without guilt, of course. It pained you to see Luke so heartbroken. But you also couldn't help but wonder if it was a sign... Nevertheless, you put those thoughts in the back of your mind and focused on the situation in front of you: a brokenhearted Luke.

"When?" you asked.

"Last night," he answered muffled, his mouth covered by your shoulder. "I haven't slept since."

"Why did you break-up?"

"She…" he took a long pause, "she cheated on me. She cheated on me then she left me."

You sighed with him and hugged him even tighter. You thought maybe if you hugged him tight enough, the pieces of his heart would magically come back together. But nothing can truly cure a heartbreak. Nothing but time. You knew better than to try and change Luke's mood, or get him to bounce back and move on any time soon. You've experienced break-ups yourself. It didn’t work that way.

"I've got an idea," you said after a few minutes of silence. Luke pulled away to look at you, his brows furrowed. "What is it?" he asked. "Wait here," you said. You got up and walked over to Luke's record player. You pulled out his favorite vinyl record. "Wanna listen to some music?"

He let out a small smile. "That'd be nice," he said. You started the record and made your way back to the sofa. The first song fit the mood just right. The beat was slow, and the notes were low. It was a melancholy tune. Luke laid his head on your lap and closed his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, soothing him, relaxing him. You felt his body loosen. Soon enough Luke had fallen asleep. You rested your head back and closed your eyes as well.

 You felt a sudden shuffle and your eyes immediately opened. Luke sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at you and gave you a sleepy smile. "How long were we asleep for?" you asked. "I don't know," he answered. His voice was raspy and groggy.

The music you had put on earlier had stopped playing. The only light outside was from a street lamp. The clock read 11:00. "We slept for five hours," you told him. You groaned and rubbed the back of your neck, feeling slightly sore. Luke just chuckled, "Well, shit." The atmosphere felt lighter now. The tension was dissipating. Luke looked better.  His eyes roamed the room until they landed on the pizza you had left on the seat. "You brought pizza," he stated, but mostly for himself. "I did," you responded, "It's probably cold now."

"'s fine," he said. He stood up to grab the pizza. He sat right behind you, sparing no space. He placed the box on his lap and flipped the lid open. He pulled out a slice and handed it to you. "Thanks," you said before taking a bite out of the now-cold pizza. Luke got himself a slice and took a bite as well.

"I'm so fucking hungry," he said with a bite of pizza still in his house.

"Mmhm," was all you said, too enjoying your pizza.

The two of you ate pizza in silence, grabbing one slice after the next, eating like it was your last meal. You begin to slow down after only slices were left in the box. You felt the pizza settle into your stomach. "That was good," you said, feeling satisfied. "How are you feeling?"

He bobbed his head side to side, "I’m alright, I guess… I’ve got a question."

"What's your question?"

"Do you believe we only have one shot at love? Do you ever sometimes worry that if that person wasn't it, there was no one for you?"

You looked at Luke puzzled. You never expected him to ask you such a question. You shook your head in response. "No," you answered, "I don't believe that at all. I think if it didn't work out with that person then it just means you’re one step closer to the right person. We love for free. Love doesn't cost anyone anything. We can fall in love with anyone-- and anyone can fall in love with us-- at anytime. We have all the chances in the world until we die."

He smiled at your answer. "You're always so optimistic," he said.

You shrugged, "In a world full of negativity, you gotta be."

"We were together for over a year," Luke said, referencing his now ex-girlfriend. "She moved in with me. I thought we were in love. Then she sleeps with some other guy?" He himself couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"People we think we know have a very interesting way of surprising us sometimes," you said.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Do you think you're going to be okay?" you asked him, concerned.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll be alright. I'll just write a few songs then be done with her," he laughed quietly. "How about you? Met any new guys lately?"

"No."

He rolled his eyes, "Oh com' on! That's a lie! Y/N, you're beautiful. You're the sweetest girl I know. Someone's definitely asked you out..."

"I just turned them down," you said.

"Why?" he asked in disbelief.

Because they're not you.

"Dun' know," was all you said.

[sheslostinreality]

Mine: the Epilogue: “We’re Gonna Make It Now”

A/N: This was a bonus. It is an after scene and somewhat of a fluff. I hope you all love it. I would suggest reading the first three parts before jumping into this. But this can be read on it’s own. Just a fluff for my cheeseballs out there. Much love x

Requests are open - inbox

Part One: We’re Taking on the World Together

Part Two: We’ve Got Nothing Figured Out

Part Three: You Are the Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine

Epilogue

Four years had gone by since the incident. At four years old, Rosy was stronger and healthier than ever. She grew to be a happy child who was always smiling, flashing her beautiful dimples while batting her green eyes. You and Harry had enrolled Rosy at a nearby nursery school. The two of you loved watching your daughter interact with other children and take initiative to make her own friends. Rosy would come home after a half day in nursery school beaming, filled with excitement to her mummy and daddy stories about what she and her friends did that day, what book her teacher read to them before naptime, and what art ’n crafts she worked on. Your refrigerator was decorated with all of Rosy’s drawings and paintings from school.

Seeing your daughter grow up into a little girl made your and Harry’s heart sink a little. You and Harry both missed having a baby to take care of. Rosy wasn’t a baby anymore. Rosy was getting taller by the minute. She was speaking full sentences and forming her own thoughts and opinions. She definitely took after her father’s sassy attitude. You and Harry both wanted another baby-- a playmate for Rosy. But before you began trying, you had to run it by the princess of the house first.

“Rosy, would you like to have a little brother or sister to play with?” Harry asked his daughter over breakfast. She was making circles, trying to catch the cereal in her pink princess bowl.

Rosy’s eyes lit up at the thought. “Yes! Yes! Yes, daddy! I want to be a big sista!”

“I want you to be a big sister, too,” Harry smiled. “How about you go tell mummy? The baby will be in her tummy. Ask her if she’s okay with it.”

Rosy got off from her big girl chair and toddled over to you. You were inside the kitchen mixing a batter of pancakes. Harry followed Rosy and leaned over the island as he watched his daughter tug on your pajamas.

“Mummy,” Rosy said sweetly, “Are you okay with having a baby in your tummy?”

You bent down to be at eye level with Rosy. “Hmm, that depends… Are you okay with being a big sister?”

“Yes mummy! Me and daddy want me to be a big sista,” Rosy said.

You smiled, “Okay, it’s deal.”

You and Harry had been trying for several months without any luck. Funny life worked that way. In the beginning of your marriage, you and Harry were always careful to use contraception but one slip up and Rosy was made. Now you weren’t using any form of contraception and Harry’s swimmers decided to swim the opposite way. You were starting to feel disappointed and defeated. Harry was leaving for over a month to tour a series of countries. Nursery School policy did not allow for students to be absent for more than two weeks. Therefore, you and Rosy had no choice but to meet Harry at the last leg of his trip. It was going to feel like eternity before you and Harry could be intimate with one another again— for yourselves and for Rosy’s potential baby brother or sister.

You and Harry made the most of his last night home. Rosy was put to bed earlier so the two of you could have more time alone together. Sure enough, not a minute was wasted.

“God,” Harry was panting after the second round. “I didn’t know you had that in yeh, babe.”

“You tired yet, mister?” you teased.

“I’m going to need a minute,” he chuckled.

The two of you rested to catch a breath. You and Harry just cuddled and talked. You shared new stories and retold old ones. You reminisced about the past and old memories before the two of you were married. You talked about the future and what you hoped it would hold for you and your little family. And most importantly, you reminded each other of how much you loved one another.

“I think I’m ready,” Harry smirked. He snaked an arm around the top of your bare stomach, stroking the side of your breast. “Come on, boys, don’t let me down.” You giggled at his silliness. Harry slowly crawled on top of you, his knees between your legs and his arms at each of your side. He took a moment to admire you. He swore his wife became more beautiful as each day came. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Y/N. We’ve been married six years and you still take my breath away.”

“Oh shut up,” you teased, pushing him lightly on his chest.

“I mean it,” he whispered lowly and roughly as he was lowering himself onto you. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we make beautiful children.” Harry left wet pecks on the back of your ear, slowly making his way towards your mouth as his hands caressed the curves of your body.

“Mummy?” a little voice said from behind the door.

Harry froze immediately. Your eyes both shifted a sleepy Rosy by the doorway. She was in her night gown, her hair a bird’s nest, and little fists rubbing the sleep in her eyes. You giggled, looking at a slightly disappointed Harry. “We got caught,” you teased.

“Fuck,” he chuckled just low enough for only you to hear. Harry quickly reached for a his pair of boxer briefs that were thrown somewhere underneath the covers. “What’sa matter, bug?” he asked, lifting up a sleepy Rose.

“I had a nightmare,” she nuzzled her face into her daddy’s neck, finding a position comfortable enough to fall asleep again.

“Do you wanna sleep with mummy and me tonight?” Harry asked as he swayed side to side, his daughter in his embrace. Rosy just nodded, her heavy eyelids closed. Harry waited until you had put Harry’s old shirt and a pair of pajamas that were thrown to the ground earlier before bringing Rosy onto the bed in between the two of you.

Harry pulled the covers over the three of you and stretched out his long arm, holding both Rosy and you. “Daddy will keep the nightmares away,” he said as he kissed his daughter goodnight.

5 AM rolled around too quickly. Harry was already in the shower. You prepared a small breakfast muffin sandwich for Harry to take on the road. You helped him gather the last of his things, shoving last minute items into his luggage bags.

Harry ran up the stairs to kiss his sleeping daughter goodbye. “I’ll see you in three week, bug. I love you,” he whispered.

A black Escalade with very tinted windows was parked outside your driveway. The driver stood by the car door, ready to assist Harry.

“Call me,” you told him.

“I will, luv.” Harry placed a hand in the back of your neck and the other under your chin. He leaned in for a long kiss— one to hold him over for the next three weeks. “I love you,” he said before walking out the door.

Two and a half weeks had gone by and Harry was growing restless. He missed his girls. Harry was consistent and punctual when it came to phone calls and FaceTime. It was Rosy’s favorite part of the day to talk to her Daddy via FaceTime while he was away.

Harry was sat in one of the booths, scrolling through pictures of you and Rosy on his phone when his tour manager came up to him with a small box. “Got somethin’ for yeh,” he said, dropping the box on the table.

“For Daddy” was written in large letters in crayon. It look to be a four-year-old’s handwriting he was very much familiar with. Harry took a key and cut through the tape holding the box together. The small box was filled with blue and pink foam peanut fillers. Harry examined the box quizzically. He turned the box over, dumping all of the peanut fillers. Last to come out was a pregnancy test and a piece of paper folded into four.

Harry unfolded the paper. It was a drawing of a stick figure family of four, signed by Rose Anne Styles.

Harry took the stick and examined it.

It read positive.

Harry couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. Baby number two.

“What is it, mate?” one of his band members asked, noticing Harry.

“Y/N—“ he smiled, “she’s pregnant.”

[sheslostinreality]

“Mine” Series: P2: “We’ve Got Nothing Figured out.”

Part One: We’re Taking On the World Together

Rosy’s 3 AM cries were right on schedule.

The two of you groaned, not having slept a wink. Your eyes were closed but the rest of your body was fully alert, anticipating the next time Rosy would cry. Rosy was three months old. She was a beautiful, happy baby girl. The morning sickness, the reflux, the gas, the swollen feet and fingers; the back pain, and excruciating labor was made all worth it when you first laid eyes on your baby girl and held her in your arms. She looked exactly like her father. “What are we calling her?” the nurse asked. You and Harry exchanged smiles with one another, having previously agreed on a name. “Rose Anne Styles,” Harry said proudly. She was definitely his daughter. Her cries were loud and immediate in the delivery room. The doctor even joked: “Definitely your daughter, Mr. Styles.” She opened her eyes after a couple hours. You were asleep but Harry was wide awake, holding his daughter in his arms. He was absolutely mesmerized and in love. He had never given his heart, his whole entire being, to someone so quickly. “You’ve got Daddy’s eyes, don’t you, Rosy?” Harry whispered through the happy tears that streamed down his face. Rosy smiled at the sound of her father’s voice, flashing her inherited dimples. It was a sound so familiar, something she had heard before. This exact same voice would talk to her and sing to her every night.

Neither of you thought parenting was going to be a walk in the park. You and Harry had been married a year and exerted much effort in prolonging having children, using every form of contraception. His successful music and acting career was going steady and strong. You had completed law school and was looking to make partner at a law firm. It wasn’t the time to bring a baby into the world. However, a string of events led to greatest blessing of all— baby Rose Anne Styles.

Rosy had been crying unceasingly for two weeks every night. The doctor said it could be due to discomfort she might’ve been experiencing. He prescribed antibiotics but Rosy did not seem to be getting better. You blamed yourself for agreeing to take Rosy on tour for three weeks. Harry kept insisting and pleading. He didn’t want to miss a moment with Rosy. You knew it was a bad idea but you couldn’t resist Harry. He genuinely wanted to be with his family every minute of every day. And so did you.

Tips on touring with an infant was not included in the baby books you read. The lack of rest, the constant change of environment, the fluctuating weather, the overstimulation— it all got Rosy sick. And now you and Harry were reaping the consequences. The lack of sleep was definitely putting the both of you on an edge.

“You get her,” you mumbled through your pillow, shoving a hand against Harry’s shoulder.

“I’m sleeping,” he grumbled.

You rolled your eyes, “If you were sleeping, you wouldn’t be responding. Go get your daughter.” You kept shoving Harry until he budged. He slowly sung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat up straight and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He walked to Rosy’s nursery in the next room over and saw the shadows of his baby girl’s little limbs swinging wildly in the air. Her cries only grew louder and louder the longer she had to wait to be cradled.

“C’m ‘ere,” Harry whispered to his frantic daughter as he picked her up from her crib. Her screams refused to cease. Little pea-sized tears dropped from the corner of her eyes eyes. “Daddy’s got you, Bug,” Harry said, as he began to rock her side to side. After what felt like eternity, Rosy’s cries subsides into little gasps of air until she was back asleep. Harry pressed his lips into her forehead, feeling her high temperature. “Get well, Bug,” he spoke softly to a sleeping Rosy. He cradled Rosy for a few more minutes before softly placing her back into her crib.

Harry walked back into your bedroom. He lifted the comforter and laid under it, stirring until he found a comfortable position. “She’s got a fever, you know,” he said once he settled in.

You sighed, “I know. Those antibiotics aren’t working. I think something’s wrong.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry snapped, refusing to accept a scary possibility. “It just takes some time, ’s all.”

“I told you we shouldn’t have taken her on tour,” you said under your breath.

You felt Harry’s body shoot up. “Would you quit blaming me?” he yelled.

You sat upright, too. “Well it was your idea! You kept insisting we go with you on tour. So we did! And there you go— you’ve got a sick daughter. You happy?”

Harry scoffed at your comment. He stood up off your bed with the most furious expression painted on his face. “No, I’m not fucking happy,” he spat. “It’s not like I intended for Rose to get sick. All I wanted was for my family to be with me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, understanding you were in the wrong. You didn’t mean to place the blame on Harry. The truth was: you were upset with yourself. You were frustrated at the situation. You were concerned about your daughter’s health. You blamed yourself for Rosy being sick.

“You had one job,” Harry said sternly.

“Excuse me?” You turned on your bedside lamp. You now, too, were on your feet. Your patience was running thin. You had been awake for far too long. “What did you just say?”

“All you had to do was take care of our daughter. I’m workin’, I’m payin’ our bills, I’m keepin’ us fed, I put a roof over our heads. All you needed to do was take care of our daughter. But you couldn’ even do that. This is your fault,” Harry pointed a finger at you. Harry was fuming. 

“I said I was sorry!” you yelled, grabbing the nearest pillow and aiming it at Harry, only for him to catch it and throw it back on the bed.  “Why are you still being such a dick! I never thought you could be so selfish.”

“Me?” he asked in disbelief, “Me? Selfish?”

“Yes, you.” you repeated. “You are being incredibly selfish. Had I known I wouldn’t have married you.” Your filter had gotten lost in the midst of your anger. Every emotion you had been trying to keep together had been unleashed. There was no retrieving the words already spoken. “Do you honestly think I like putting my career on hold? That I’m the one making sacrifices to keep this family together while you go off living some teenage boy dream of yours.”

It was true. You did in fact put your career on hold. You were six months pregnant when your law firm company offered to make you partner. You and Harry discuss the matter. Making partner would mean more time dedicated to work and less on family. You didn’t need the extra money. Harry made more than enough. The two of you concluded you didn’t need to work. Harry wanted you to focus on your new little family. It was disappointing at first— all the time and hard work spent for nothing. But you knew once Rose and another other children you might have were older, you could start practicing law again.

Harry rolled his eyes at your snarky jab at his career choice. “You’re the only one making sacrifices? What other bullshit have you got stored up in yeh?”

“Thank you,” you said sarcastically, “thank you for singing on stage and selling albums. Thank you for acting and paying our bills. You must work so hard.” You grabbed a pillow and one of the blankets on your bed. You headed straight for the door before Harry grabbed your arm. “Where do yeh think your goin’?” he asked.

You jerked your arm back, “I’m sleeping in one of the guest rooms tonight. I can’t stand to look at you right now.”

The house was felt colder than ever. Tension was high. Neither of you could keep up with your own thoughts. You were both swallowed in all sorts of emotions-- anger, sadness, regret... In your two years of marriage, this was the biggest fight the two of you had ever had. You locked yourself in Rosy’s room, sitting on the floor and sobbing behind the door. Why is life so hard? What are we doing wrong? you asked yourself in between sobs. Every hurtful thing, every ungrateful word you said to Harry— you didn’t mean it. It just… came out. Out of anger. You were more than grateful for everything he had done, providing for the family. Harry’s worth ethic was impeccable and he made it look effortless, balancing such a demanding carrier and family life. Harry never complained. You felt like a failure. Harry was right. All you had to do was be a mom. And you couldn’t do it.

In the next room over was Harry laying on the bed over the covers, only in his boxer briefs, staring at the ceiling. Little droplets of tears would escape the corner of his eyes. He couldn’t believe what had happened. He regretted everything that had come out of his mouth. He couldn’t remember what sparked such a fight, but he knew he was sorry. There was nothing in the world he loved more than you and Rose. He knew you were heartbroken over quitting your job. He knew you didn’t like staying home all day. Harry was aware that in any other normal situation, your job alone could provide for an upper middle-class family. He was also aware of the hardships, struggles, and inconvenience of bringing an infant on tour. You were putting in much more effort in taking care of Rose than he was. He was in no place to blame you.

He was wrong.

You were wrong.

Rosy continued to be sick and neither of you knew how to cope with it.

As you tried to calm and collect yourself, Rosy started to gasp for air. You rushed to her crib. You saw your baby struggling to breath. Her little tummy rising slowly up and down.

“Harry!” you screamed. In an instant, Harry burst through the door. “What is it, luv?” his eyes wide in panic. “Call an ambulance!” you cried, “Rose— she can’t breathe.”

Part Three: You Are the Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine

Epilogue

[sheslostinreality]

Mine: Finale (Part 3): “You Are the Best Thing That’s Ever Been Mine”

A/N: After three days and just shy of 2,000 words, part three is here! I hope everyone’s enjoyed reading this series... I’ve also included an epilogue as a bonus. Message me for anything :) Much love x

Part One: “We’re Taking On the World Together”

Part Two: “We’ve Got Nothing Figured Out”

“Three-month-old female,” one of the EMT in the ambulance spoke into a walkie-talkie, “unable to breathe. Had an allergic reaction to a prescribed antibiotic. Stand by for drop-off.”

“Oh God,” you cried. Tears welded up in your eyes at the sight of your baby daughter with an oxygen mask over her nose, IV needles inserted into her tiny arms, and the sound of her small gasps of air. Rosy’s skin was pale, her green eyes closed. The only part of her moving was her stomach.

You buried your face into Harry’s chest as he enclosed his arms around you. Muffled sobbing came out of you while Harry was completely silent. It took every bone, every muscle, every nerve in his body to keep himself from falling apart. “She’ll be okay,” he managed to choke out.

Rosy was undressed and left only in her diapers. One of the EMT men took an antihistamine and injected it into Rosy’s left thigh. You squirmed at the sight. You felt every needle they put inside Rosy. Everything your daughter felt, you felt.

Around 4:30 in the morning you arrived at the hospital, just minutes after paramedics received your call. The sky was still dark and the air cool and misty. The ambulance doors swung open, and Rosy was transferred onto a stretcher and taken into the emergency room by a team of nurses. You and Harry jumped out of the ambulance and followed quickly. The nurses took Rosy through a set of double doors.

“I’m sorry,” a male nurse said, stopping you in your tracks. “You have to stay here.”

“We’re her parents,” you tried to look through the small rectangular windows of the double doors, the sight of the stretcher fading.

The male nurse shook his head, “We can’t let you in at this time. We’ll keep you posted. Please have a seat, and wait here.”

“It’s alright, luv,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Okay, we’ll wait here,” he told the nurse, “Please make sure our daughter’s alright.”

The nurse nodded then entered through the double doors.

“Baby, let’s take a seat,” Harry suggested. He motioned to the empty chairs at the corner of the emergency room.

You must have looked a mess that morning. Your eyes bloodshot from crying for hours—first after your big fight with Harry then again inside the ambulance. Pieces of your hair was falling out of your already messy bun. Harry didn’t look great himself. Exhaustion was written all over him. Dark circles formed under his eyes. He threw dirty clothes on just before paramedics arrived.

A few individuals waiting in the emergency room eyed you and Harry, probably wondering why you both looked familiar— or Harry, at least. Granted, they had bigger problems to worry about than where they had seen the curly haired man before. But at that moment, he definitely looked worse in person.

Media vans began to pull up on the streets.This was the last thing you needed. The rest of whole world judging your poor mothering skills. As if your husband wasn’t enough.

“Mum,” Harry said, holding his phone to his ear. “Mum— We’re at the hospital.”

“What!” You heard Anne yell through the phone. You couldn’t decipher the muffled words that followed after.

“Rosy had an allergic reaction. She couldn’t breathe,” Harry explained to a frantic Anne. “No, we didn’t… yes, bu’—… I don’t know, Mum.” Harry shut his eyes and rested his head on the wall. He listened to his mother speak, responding with a mixture of ��Mhmm,” “Yeh,” and “I don’t know”. “Alrigh’, see you soon,” Harry finally said before hanging up.

“What did she say?” you asked Harry.

“Mum, Robin, and Gemma are on their way,” he said. “Luv, about what I said earlier, I—“

You stood up from you seat. “I’m going to take a walk,” you said abruptly before walking outside of the emergency room. “Could I join you?” Harry tried asking. You shook your head. “Alone,” you added. Harry nodded and watched you at you go. His head fell to his hands, tears finally breaking through him. “Christ,” he cursed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. He felt completely defeated.

The two things he valued more than anything were drifting farther and farther away from him.

Harry sat alone in the emergency room for a while, sunken into his seat. “Harry!” Anne cried out when she caught sight of her son. The three of them rushed to Harry. Anne hugged him first and placed a kiss on her his cheek. Gemma hugged her brother afterwards, then finally Robin. “Be strong, son. Our Rosy will be alright,” Robin kept positive and was in high spirits.

Harry returned a small smile. “Where’s Y/N?” Gemma asked as she looked around the room. “She went for a walk,” Harry replied. “Alright, I’m gonna go find her,” Gemma said before taking off.

You were sat on a bench behind tall bushes, hidden from the view of photographers. You closed your eyes and took a long deep breath, inhaling the cool morning air. “Hey sister,” a voice said. Your eyes opened and you saw Gemma in a tracksuit sit beside you. She pulled you in for a tight, long embrace. It was a quiet gesture that said what you needed to hear.

“What are you doing here by yourself?” she asked.

“Just thinking,” you answered.

“‘bout what?”

You sighed. “I dunno— maybe I’m not fit to be a mum. This is all my fault.”

The corners of Gemma’s mouth dropped into a frown. “No!” she exclaimed. “How could you say that!”

“Harry and I had a bad fight,” you told her. “It got me thinking.”

“Ohhh, that makes sense now.” It made sense to her why you and Harry were separated. It was a rarity. “What are you fighting about?”

“I’m not fit to be a mother,” you told her honestly. “I feel like it’s my fault Rosy’s sick.”

“No, Y/N. You’re wrong,” Gemma affirmed. “You are an excellent mother to Rosy. And an amazing wife to my brother. None of this is your fault.”

“Do you mean that?” you asked Gemma.

She nodded assuringly. “One hundred percent. You are selfless, Y/N. You always put your family before yourself. I can see the love you have for Harry and Rosy. You take such good care of the both of them,” she told you, “This is not your fault. This is no one’s fault.”

The two of you sat in silence as you tried to convince yourself that Gemma was telling the truth. Maybe she was right, you thought.

Inside the emergency room was Harry and Anne sitting beside one another, having a similar conversation. Harry had opened up to Anne about the fight the two of you had. Harry was stricken over with guilt for the pain his thoughtless words caused you. He didn’t mean any of it and would do anything to take it all back.

Anne’s eyes welded up at the sight of her son so devastated. “Some things you can’t prevent,” she told Harry, rubbing his tense shoulder. She reminded him perfect parents didn’t exist. “When your sister was born, your dad and I made so many mistakes,” she said chortling. “You would think by the time we had you, we’d have it all figured out. But we didn’t. It’s a lifetime of learning.” Slowly but surely Anne’s comforting words made Harry feel better.

“Make up with Y/N, Harry,” she concluded. “Rosy doesn’t need her parents fighting. What she needs is her mummy and daddy together on one team. It’s hard to get through this alone. You and Y/N need each other.”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. “Thanks, mum,” he said, pulling his mum into an embrace. “I love you, Harry,” Anne said. “I love you, too, mum.”

“Harry.” His head shot up at the sound of your voice. He saw you standing a few feet away, your arms link together with Gemma. Anne stood up. She greeted you with a smile and a hug. “Hi Sweetheart,” Anne before turning to Gemma. “Let’s go look for Robin? He went searching for a vending machine.”

Gemma nodded at Anne’s suggestion. The two left, leaving you and Harry with some privacy.

“Harry, listen, I—“ Harry rose to his feet and pressed his lips on yours, cutting you off. His kiss was strong and passionate. His hands snaked around your back, pulling you closer to him. “What was that for?” you giggled as he pulled away.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything I said earlier. None of that was true. There’s no other woman I would rather have be the mother of my children than you. You are incredible. You have done more for me and Rose than I could ever ask for. You’re my rock, Y/N.”

His words brought tears to your eyes. “I’m sorry, too. For what I said,” you told him. “I love you and I love our family. With all my heart.”

Harry leaned down and kissed you once more, softly this time. “I love you, Y/N Styles,” he said.

“I love you, too.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Styles?” a voice said, interrupting. Your heads whipped to the direction of the voice. In front of you was the male nurse from earlier. Once he saw he had your attention he said, “We ran blood cultures and monitored her vital signs. We have her on an IV and the doctor prescribed her a different anti-biotic. She’s responding well.”

“Oh thank you, God,” you and Harry both said in relief.

“We admitted her into a room. It’s all precautionary. We would like to keep her here for a few more days to keep an eye on her. Would you like to see your daughter?”

You and Harry nodded and the nurse led the way. He took you through a series of hallways, left and right turns, until you reached the pediatric unit. Rosy was in a little room, laying inside a box crib just big enough for her. She regained color back into her skin, her breathing regular and consistent. You saw her little fingers twitching as she slept. She had small needles attached to her still and fluids hung beside her. A heart monitor was taped to her chest and a tube for oxygen to her nose.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” the nurse said before stepping out of the room.

You walked towards Rosy, slipping a finger underneath her small hands. You felt a small grasp. Harry was standing beside you, and arm around your waist and his lips to your temple.

“Mummy and Daddy are here, baby girl,” you said to a sleeping baby. “We love you so much, Rosy.”

A little sleepy mumble came out of Rosy’s pink lips bringing a smile to both your faces. Harry leaned over the crib. “You and your mum, Rosy, are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I want you to know that I will love you for as long as I love. Get well soon, my little bug.”

Epilogue 

[sheslostinreality]

“If You Can Wait ‘til I Get Home”

Anon request: angsty imagine based on “If It Means A Lot To You” by ADTR. (Audio | Lyrics)

A/N: This imagine took me four hours to write. It’s a long imagine but I’d read it until the end. It’s worth it. x

You met Ashton over a year ago when 5 Seconds of Summer had finished their last tour for their second album. You met at a mutual friend’s house party. You and Ashton were friends first. You began hanging out and found you had a lot of similarities and were very compatible with one another. You got to know Ashton as this super fun, adventurous guy who was ready for anything. He was always in high spirits and full of energy. Whenever you needed a listening ear and someone to vent to, Ashton became your guy. You could count on him to cheer you up. He never failed show you support and give encouragement. Amongst his many wonderful qualities, one you especially loved was that he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t to be accepted or like— especially around you. He was genuine.

This would always a constant debate between you and Ashton but the truth was: you fell for Ashton first. Granted, he was always interested in you. From the moment he saw you, he thought you were beautiful. He wanted to get to know you. But you developed real feelings first. It took Ashton a little longer because record would have it: he couldn’t fall for just anyone. He had been burned too many times— coming across people who were just using him. Nevertheless, when Ashton knew you were in it for him— not for his money or what he could give you— he gave his whole heart to you. “It’s game over man,” Luke chuckled after Ashton told him, Michael, and Calum he had fallen for you. “You’re done, lover boy,” Calum joked. It proved to be true. Ashton was head over heels. He’d give you all the stars in the sky if he could. He was madly in love with you and everything about you. He never wanted to let you go. After six months of dating, you moved in together in a nice condominium in Hollywood Hills. That was only step 2 of Ashton’s plan.

5 Seconds of Summer had released their third album. You were incredibly stoked for your boyfriend and his band. The four of them had worked so hard composing new songs for everyone to hear. The album release party had been a blast— all of their friends, their families, and individuals who helped put the album together attended. But after the party was when reality began to hit.

The boys had back-to-back meetings to attend to on top of shows and making appearances in promotions of their new album. You were seeing less and less of your boyfriend. Ashton was already out of the house when you woke up in the morning. By the time he arrived home, he was beyond exhausted. “Babe, would it be alright if I went to bed?” Ashton asked after scarfing down the dinner you prepared. You sighed disappointedly but you weren’t going to be selfish. You saw the tired in his eyes. “Sure, I’ll clean up,” you said.

This was scary territory for your relationship.

Watching Ashton leave never ceased to be painful and heartbreaking. It wasn’t like you and Ashton never spent time away from each other. He’d left before for small business trips or trips back home to Australia for two weeks or so. It was that no matter how many times you’ve watched Ashton leave, it just never got easier.

The tour for album three was in two weeks. Ashton leaving for four months to tour all of Europe with his band. You had pleaded to your boss for at least a week off. You tried to reason and bargain but she didn’t budge. There was a big company project taking place and she wanted you present and in action.

“Your boss is a bitch,” Ashton grumbled, throwing shoes into his luggage only for it to bounce off and roll away.

You took his shoes and placed them neatly back into the suitcase. “Well, on the bright side, we won’t need to ask someone to look after our home,” you tried to sound positive.

“I’d rather be burglarized then go four months without seeing you,” Ashton responded.

“Don’t say that,” you tried to laugh. “I’m really upset about it, too, but there’s nothing I can do. I can’t quit. I’ve worked so hard for my position in that company. It’s not worth it…”

Ashton sighed, pulling you into his arms in a tight embrace. He rested his chin on the top of your head, your nose to his chest, smelling the intoxicating scent of his cologne. “I already miss you,” he said, his hazel green eyes looking into yours.

You forced a painful smile and quickly wiped the tear that escaped the corner of your eye. Ashton frowned, seeing your eyes weld up with water and your lips beginning to quiver. You bit your lip and managed to let out a small laugh. “Let’s just enjoy tonight, alright?” you suggested. “We have all of tomorrow to be sad.”

Ashton nodded. He bowed his neck to place a kiss on your lips. You tiptoed and locked your arms around his neck. He lifted you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Ashton shut the bedroom door closed on your way over to the bed. He lowered your back onto the bed. He was smiling, admiring your beauty. “One for the road?” he asked suggestively with a smirk on his face.

Tomorrow came all to quickly. The alarm was set for 4 AM. You and Ashton both groaned at the annoying sound of the beeping. Neither of you wanted to leave the bed. You were so comfortable under the sheets and in each others arms.

“Hey,” Ashton whispered, his voice still groggy and sleepy. He placed small kisses on your neck.

You turned over to face him. “Hey,” you said smiling.

“I want to tell you something,” he said.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I love you.”

You giggled, “I know that already. I love you, too.”

“No,” Ashton said more seriously this time. “I mean it, [Y/N]. I really, really love you.”

“And I really, really love you, too, Ashton,” you responded.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said.

You paused for a minute. Ashton’s expression was serious. This wasn’t just pillow talk. This wasn’t just his emotions speaking or him being sappy. This was real. Ashton was being real.

“I’m not proposing,” Ashton added. “Not yet, anyway. I just—I just wanted you to know that I will. I’m in it for the long run, [Y/N]. Are you?”

You couldn’t help but smile. You nodded and gave Ashton a kiss on the lips. Your relationship was one for the books. It was the kind of relationship everyone wanted. Everyone dreams of marrying their best friend one day. Everyone wishes to spend their life with someone that brings them love, happiness, and sense of stability. It’s the kind of relationship where even the length of time cannot make each day feel like a new adventure. No one wants to stop falling in love. That’s what you and Ashton had. Your relationship was built on a foundation so strong and unbreakable, not even distance could pull you apart.

Or so you thought.

“Do you have everything?” you asked him. He counted the four large suitcases lined up against the wall, tapped duffle bag on his shoulder and the backpack on his back; he felt the hat on his head and the wallet in his back pocket. He wiggled his glasses and raised the passport in his hand.

“Got it,” he assured you.

“Phone?”

He tapped his front pocket. “Charger and everything,” he joked.

You let out a small smile, the feeling of sadness over taking you. This was all too familiar. “I’ll miss you. It’s selfish but I don’t want you to go,” you told him.

He nodded understandingly. “I know, baby. I wish I could bring you with me. But I swear, it will be worth it when I come back,” he promised. “Please wait for me.”

“I will.”

Ashton placed one last kiss on your lips before he headed out the door. The chauffeur assisted Ashton with his suitcases. Ashton rolled down the tinted window of the Mercedes Benz and waved goodbye as they drove away.

The condo never felt lonelier, emptier, and quieter. It was only Ashton and you who lived there but the two of you together brought life, laughter, happiness and energy into the your home. There was never a dull moment. There was always singing, music, and dancing. But with Ashton gone, you didn’t feel like dancing alone.

The two weeks was the hardest and the loneliest. Even at work, coworkers were growing concerned. Your boss didn’t even look twice at you. All she cared about was the company project. You had friends who were calling you to set up plans to keep your mind off of Ashton. They knew how hard it must have been for you. However, no amount of distractions during the day could relieve you from the empty, cold bed you’d be coming home to that night.

You and Ashton had remained in constant communication the first two weeks. You were either texting, calling or FaceTiming. If you were at work, you’d receive “business emails” from Ashton. But as the weeks progressed, Ashton grew busier and the communication lessened until there was almost none. Your phone was unbothered as ever. You tried your hardest not to bother Ashton but some days you couldn’t help but call. Often you were left to go to voicemail. Ashton would call you back but you’d be asleep and miss it. It was getting more and more difficult, more and more unbearable.

Some nights you’d think: “is this what my future is going to be like? waiting on Ashton? always anxious for the next time he’ll leave me? We live different lives sometimes.”

Two more weeks was left on the calendar. You were more excited than you had ever been. The band was getting a week off before beginning the next set of tours.

“Finally I caught you!” you smiled to the camera as you mixed the vegetables in the pan.

Ashton chuckled, “Likewise. Seem like we’re always missin’ each other.”

“It’s been hard,” you said honestly. “I’ve been really sad.”

“We’ll make it, baby,” Ashton assured you. “We can’t let distance get to us.”

Sometimes, it seemed it was easier on Ashton than on you being separated. Of course, Ashton was always the one leaving. Perhaps it was because he was more occupied. He was touring, meeting new people, performing shows. He had a lot going on. But for you— it was the same nine-to-five, five days a week job. Same desk, same computer, same routine. Ashton was traveling the world while you were confined to the four walls of your office. Ashton came home to different, lavish hotel suites while you came home to an empty house that made it impossible to forget about Ashton. It would irk you when Ashton acted so nonchalant about the pain it caused you when he was away. It was bothersome when he’d be so naive about how hard it was for you.

“Easy for you to say,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” he asked.

“I said ‘easy for you to say,’” you repeated more clearly.

“What are you talking about?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s easy for you to say ‘don’t worry, babe, we’ll make it’ because you don’t miss me as much as I miss you. Trying being the one getting left behind for once.”

“Babe, I—“ Ashton’s eyes shifted away from the camera. You heard another voice talking. Ashton nodded to the voice behind the camera and sighed. “Babe, I’m really sorry, I have to go.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Exasperation was taking over you. “Of course you do.”

Ashton looked apologetic. “Look, I’ll call you later, alright? I love you.”

He never called.

You masked your sadness by pretending to have a lack of. You thought you could fool yourself if you pretended to be unbothered. You fought against the sadness. You told yourself you wouldn’t be upset with Ashton for being too busy answer calls or respond to text messages. You tried not to miss him anymore because he didn’t miss you. If he missed me like he said he did, he’d try, you told yourself. What fueled your anger were the paparazzi photos of Ashton and the other boys leaving the club in the early mornings. If he had time for clubbing, he should have had a few minutes for you. The four months apart were doing a lot more damage to your relationship than you initially thought it would.

Ring ring.

Three days were left until Ashton was set to come home.

You swiped the screen open. “Look who decided to call,” you said with a slightly crossed tone.

“They extended the tour,” Ashton blurted out.

“They what?”

“They extended the tour to another month.”

You laughed, “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He didn’t. He wasn’t. “Leave work. Come see me.”

“I can’t, Ashton,” you sternly. “Our project is launching next month. I have to be here.”

“It’s always work,” Ashton complained.

Your eyes grew wide. “Excuse me?”

This conversation wasn’t nearly as sweet, as loving, or as kind as the ones held prior. You and Ashton only fought and bickered. It went from Ashton blaming your work, to you feeling your were the only one making sacrifices, to Ashton not caring enough about the distance put between you. It was a mess.

“You think I don’t care?” Ashton asked rhetorically. “Are you that narrow minded?”

“I’m being narrow minded? Trying being the one always left behind, Ashton!”

“It’s not my fault” he said defensively.

“So you’re saying it’s my fault?”

Ashton sighed, slowly beginning to feel defeat. “No—no! That’s not what I’m saying.”

“No, that’s exactly what you’re saying! And you know what hurts? Waiting by the phone every day for a call that never comes.”

“Babe, I told you I was busy.”

You scoffed, “Right. Busy. But you still had time to go clubbing.” Ashton fell silent. “Yeah, I saw the photos.”

There was a silence in the line. Then you said words you never thought you’d say.

“Ashton, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You had enough.

It was foolish to think a year of being together would make the two of you invincible to the effects of distance. You had tried your hardest to hold on, to wait, to not give up on your relationship. But you felt the strain. You couldn’t bear another heartache of watching Ashton leave. You couldn’t cope any longer with the anxiety of being apart. You felt left in the dark while Ashton was well in the spotlight. All you wanted was to feel him again, to be near him again. You needed his presence and he couldn’t give you that.

“Babe— what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” you said lowly, “I think we need to break up. I can’t wait for you anymore, Ashton.”

“What? Why not?”

You felt your throat tighten. “It hurts too much. I don’t expect you to know the feeling. But imagine it hurts like hell. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to be worried anymore. I’m tired of waiting. I’m done being left behind.”

“But I’m coming home, baby! Just one more month.”

You sighed, “For how long? A week? A few days? Then you’re gone again for God knows how long again. I’m not the girl for you, Ashton. You need someone with a flexible career. Someone who can drop everything and be with you. Someone who can wait for you. I can’t do that; and I hate long distance. But this is your job and I won’t ask you to give it up— not that you would.”

“So it’s your or my job?” he asked in disbelief.

“No,” you told him. It’s just your job.”

“This is a fucking joke, [Y/N]. I can’t believe you’re talking like this. Don’t do this.” His voice was breaking. “Don’t we mean anything to you?”

“You mean everything to me, Ashton.”

“Then why can’t you wait until I get home? We can make it, [Y/N].”

“No, Ashton. I’m done waiting. I’m sorry,” you said. “Look, you can keep the condo— you’ll need a place to stay when the tour’s over. I’ll be moved out before you get back.”

“Can we at least be friends?” he asked.

You shook your head to yourself. “Nobody’s friends with their exes. Maybe in the future. But right now, I think I need to be alone. Goodbye, Ashton.”

At that, you hung up. You couldn’t bear to hear his voice again. You clutched your phone to your chest, and slid your back down the bathroom wall of the office. A river of tears spilled from your eyes. You felt your heart break into a million pieces. You couldn’t breathe. You let go of the one who became your world. You set free the one who made you smile on your worst days, your sunlight, your breath of fresh air. Because the one who made you so happy… also made you so sad.

You weren’t sure if what you did was the right thing to do. You were so caught in your emotions, in all of your anxiety and sadness. You were just so tired of hurting and waiting. It was an understandable feeling and anyone on the outside would’ve seen it coming. They’d say, “We knew it’d happen eventually.”

On the other side of the world was a devastated, heartbroken Ashton— a guy who lost the love of his life. He saw his future shatter before him. All his hopes and plans evaporate into thin air. The girl he thought he would spend the rest of his life with gave up on him. He couldn’t give her what she needed. Distance was too strong. His job was too demanding. What he thought was meant to be turned out to be false. Without you, he’d never be happy again.

“Oh man,” Luke said when he walked into the room and spotted a crying Ashton. “What the hell happened?”

“[Y/N] broke up with me,” he cried.

“Shit,” Luke rushed to his best friend’s side. “Man, I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll never be happen again,” Ashton sobbed. “I loved her. She was everything.”

Luke stayed quiet. He was at a loss for words. He thought you and Ashton were going to get married one day. He looked up to Ashton for maintaining a stable, healthy relationship. He praised Ashton for finding the love of his life and holding on to her. Luke wanted what he saw in you and Ashton.

“I was going to propose to her,” Ashton tossed the little velvet box into the table he was holding during your phone call.

Luke reached for the box and opened it. He found the engagement. “This is what you were looking at the other day, wasn’t it?” Ashton was visiting jewelry stores all around Europe in search of the perfect engagement ring under the radar. There had been time you called but he was looking at rings so he purposely ignored your call.

The ring was beautiful. Ashton had purchased the ring in Italy. It was worth a fortune. It was a large square-cut diamond with a diamond band. It was his surprise for when he returned home.

He was going to make you his wife.

[sheslostinreality]

Summary: You’re friends with all the 5sos boys but are unintentionally a little more touchy-feely and close to one of the boys and all the others notice and joke about it.

~ requested ~ || Requests are open

“Touchy Feely”

You were in a Vegas Penthouse suite with Calum, Michael, Ashton, and Luke. 5 Seconds of Summer had a day off from meetings, tour preparations, and song writing. It was beautiful day, the sun high in the sky and shining brightly. It was just a matter of how to spend the day.

Michael was sat on the floor with his back against the center table and a Nintendo switch in his hands. Calum was on the single seat couch with his legs over the armrest and his back against the other as he scrolled through the endless notifications on his phone. You were laid on the long couch with your head rested on Luke’s lap and he ran his left fingers through your hair while intertwining the right with yours.

“What are we doing today?” Ashton asked when he returned from the kitchen with a bag of crisps.

“We could hit the pool,” Luke suggested.

“I think I’ll stay here,” Michael replied, focused on his game, and frankly, not a fan of the outside.

Calum sat up straight on his seat and placed his phone down on the table. “I’m down,” he said.

“Me, too,” Ashton agreed. “[Y/N], what about you?”

You sat up and nodded, “Alright, let’s go.”

The four of you dispersed from the living room to change into swimwear.

“Luke?” you called from your room as you struggled to tie a decent knot with the straps behind your back. Luke’s head popped out of the doorway. “Yeah?” he asked. You turned around to show him the untied straps of your bikini top. “Help,” you said. Luke walked inside and tied the straps for you.

“Hey,” Calum said from the doorway, “are you guys ready?”

“Yeah,” Luke answered as soon as he finished tying the straps. You followed Luke out of the room. “I could’ve tied it for you,” Calum whispered from behind you.

You whipped your head around and glared at Calum. “Shut up,” you told him. Calum chuckled at your defensiveness. 

“Have fun!” Michael yelled from the living room as the four of you left.

The pool area was gorgeous and spacious. The pool was in the shape of an infinity sign and the outside of the area was lined with palm trees. The place was filled with people who were looking for a great time and cocktails and margaritas in their hands. There were rows after rows pool lounge chairs and cabanas. Music was blasted by the DJ and there was a bar set up with waiters and waitresses to serve guests.

“Need help?” Luke asked when he saw you were applying sunscreen.

“Yes please,” you handed him the bottle and turned your back towards him.

He squirted sunscreen onto his hands and rubbed it onto your back. You caught Ashton and Calum watching with smirks on their faces. “What?” you asked the two. “Nothin’,” Calum replied smugly.

“Me next,” Ashton teased Luke. Luke rolled his eyes and aimed the sunscreen bottle at Ashton. Ashton flinched as the bottle hit him right in the arm. “Ouch,” he joked, rubbing his arm.

You and Luke walked around the pool in search of the deepest end, which happened to be in the center of the pool. “Wanna jump?” Luke grinned down at you.

You dipped your toes in and felt the cold temperature of the water. “Holy crap, it’s cold,” you told him.

“Even better!” he laughed. Luke took your hand and gave it a light squeeze. “Ready?”

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

Splash!

You felt the coldness of the water take over your body. You kicked your feet until you reached the surface of the water. Luke flipped his hair and wiped the water away from his face. He swam towards you and held you to him. You wrapped an arm around his neck to you keep afloat. “Oh my God,” you laughed, “it’s freezing!”

“Did you touch the ground when you jumped?” he asked.

You shook your head, “No. How deep is this thing?”

“You jumped in without us?” Ashton stood by the edge of the pool with Calum, sounding slightly disappointed.

“Get in!” you shouted. The two boys took a few steps back before running at full speed and cannonballing into the water.

It was a fun, relaxing day. The water was refreshing and cooling from the incredible desert heat. You rented floats and laid on the water with drinks in your hands. When you wanted a break from the water, you returned to the cabana and laid down in the shaded area.

“Scoot,” you told Luke who was stretched out on the small cabana bed. He moved over and made room for you to lie down beside him.

You and Luke stayed there until Calum and Ashton had enough fun in the pool. The two boys stayed in the water and hung around a few girls they met but emerged out of the water eventually. They returned to the cabana and woke you and Luke up.

“Wake up, party people,”  Calum said.

You and Luke got up from the bed and began gathering your things. The four of you walked back into the hotel and waited patiently for the elevator to take your to the top floor. “I call one of the showers,” Calum said as soon as the elevator doors opened.

“Do you mind if I use our shower first?” Luke asked, considering the suite only had two bathrooms and one was already called for by Calum. You nodded, “Sure.”

“How was the pool?” Michael asked when you saw you all had returned. He was still in the same spot and position as when you had left him a few hours ago.

“Good,” you replied. You took a seat on the single couch Calum sat in earlier.

“I have a question,” Ashton stated.

“What’s your question?”

“Is there something going on between you and Luke that we don’t know about?”

This caught Michael’s attention. He paused his Switch and joined in on the conversation. “What?”

“What?” you also said.

“Come on!” Ashton insisted, “No bullshit.” He rushed to take a seat across from you on the center table. “You two are abnormally touchy-feely with one another. It’s concerning.”

“No,” you said sternly, “Nothing’s going on, Ashton. Luke and I are just friends— the same way I am with you guys.”

“So you don’t like him?” Michael said, half asking, “Like, at all?”

You paused for a moment. This was a topic you avoided yourself. You refused to ponder about it, let alone consider. It was too complicated, confusing, and frankly, risky. You figured if there was any chance you liked Luke, now was not the time to be honest. “At all,” you said as convincingly as possible.

“Does Luke like you?” Michael asked.

You shrugged, “How would I possibly know that?”

“I’ll ask Luke,” Ashton said excitedly.

Luke came into the living room, securing a towel around his waist. “Ask me what?” he asked the group. You, Michael, and Ashton exchanged looks. “Nothing,” you answered quickly. “Nothing.”

[sheslostinreality]

ONE SHOT #1: "It's just business." -- Ashton & Luke --

Your small fingers in the spaces of his hand felt weird. A bad weird. It didn't feel right. You and Ashton had been best friends since you were in diapers and to see yourself in this situation was an unfortunate twist of fate. Neither of you had feelings for each other. Not this kind of feeling. But you won't find honesty as a synonym for business. Business is a bunch of dirty tricks and under the table deals.

Ashton's career had taken off. But his publicist decided it was time to add fuel to the fire. The breaking news that Ashton was off the market sent the media flying. Social media blew up and everyone was thirty for the inside scoop of Ashton's lady. You and Ashton knew this wasn't right; to lie and create drama for the sake of publicity. But as his publicist said: "It's just business." 

"At least fake it," Michael said irritably to Luke. All day he'd been frowning and quiet. "You're making us look bad."

Luke didn't budge. He spread himself out on the chair and folded his arms across his chest. You looked over at him but he was ignoring you. He's been giving you the cold shoulder ever since this whole charade began. The lights dimmed and Ashton removed his hand that was rested on your thigh. You were Ashton's plus-one to the fashion show in London. You and Ashton held hands for the camera and even shared a kiss. All day long you felt Luke's glare and you knew why.

The ride home was like a boat ride in a sea of awkwardness. No one spoke and the tension was thick. Until Ashton spoke up. "This is fucking ridiculous."

"Tell that to Martha," Calum huffed. Martha was their publicist. "She's the one who put you up to this."

"You two are a joke," Luke said bitterly. It was directed to both you and Ashton but you felt most of the sting. 

"Luke," you tried to place your hand underneath his but he pushed it away. 

"Don't," he said.

You sighed and gave up. The rest of the ride home, you just looked out the window and watched the city lights pass you in a blur. You couldn't wait for this nightmare to be over. 

Once you reached the house, you all stepped out of the van one by one - you and Luke last. Luke hurried past you but you grabbed his arm. "Luke." Your voice was stern.

"What do you want?" he spat out.

"I'm sorry! I had no choice!" you couldn't control yourself anymore. "I tried to say no."

"You didn't try hard enough."

Skinny love. You and Luke loved each other but you two were both afraid to admit it. There was too many complications attached that a healthy relationship seemed impossible. First and foremost, hate. Then there was distance and separation. It didn't seem like worth a try. Then Martha waltzed in and forced you and Ashton into a relationship. She threatened that if you didn't agree, you couldn't be seen with the band anymore. She said: "Unless you're a girlfriend, you're a drag."

You couldn't tell her you liked Luke. You couldn't even tell Luke you liked him. Let alone loved him. But all the boys knew. It pained Luke to see you and Ashton hold hands or see him place a kiss on your cheek. Ashton was careful not to go to far. He wasn't going to to that to his best mate. Although today was an exception. Martha said you weren't "selling it" and a kiss was required. Back at the fashion show, Ashton whispered into your ear that Luke was going to kill him in his sleep tonight.

"Luke I'm sorry," your voice was breaking now. "I couldn't tell her."

"So what? I'm just supposed to sit back and let this happen? Let the world think you two are madly in love?"

"But we aren't, Luke! You know that!" you yelled.

"So tell me, Y/N!" he yelled. "What do I know, huh? Because it seems like what I thought I knew was a lie. I thought we had something. Then you go off playing boyfriend and girlfriend with my best friend? What the hell is that?" 

Luke's expression was hard. His eyes had narrowed down on you and his hands balled into a fist. He kept his distance in case anything got out of hand. A tear fell down the corner of your eye and you sighed in defeat. 

"I love you, Luke." You wanted to yell it back but instead it came in a whisper.

"What?" he took a step closer.

"I love you," you repeated. "I love you. Not Ashton. Martha can go fuck herself for making us do this. This is hell for me too, Luke. Wishing it was you instead of Ashton. Every night for a month I've been thinking about what to say to Martha to make this stop."

"Y/N..."

"I'm not finished," you said. "I know this is hard for you to watch. And this whole thing is my fault. I should've just grown some balls and told you how I felt. I should've just said I loved you from the start and maybe have avoided this entire charade. I--"

Luke shut you up with a kiss. He held you against him and lifted you up to make it easier for him. He kissed you. Hard. Passionately. You tangled your fingers into his hair as he ran his hands up and down your back. After a good minute or so, he placed you back down and a large smile was on his face. 

"God, I've been waiting to do that," he chuckled. 

You smiled. "About time, Hemmings."

"Can I make a request?" You nodded and he leaned in to whisper something into your ear: "Tell Irwin if he kisses you again, I'll kick his ass."

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A/N: AHHHH!!! My first one shot in a looooong time! :-) I really enjoyed doing this one. I hope you guys like it as much as I do! Thanks for requesting this. xx

TAKING REQUESTS!