extreme love for your eyebrow action

Haunting Me (Chap. 6)

A/N: Hey loves, this is it! Chapter 6 is finally here after the long delay and it gets steamy as heck this time! ;) I’m super sorry for the long wait, this writer’s block is killing me haha! I hope you guys like it! Enjoy! -Delilah ❤️

Haunting Me: Y/N is a normal young adult living in New York, but little does she know that she’s a reincarnation of the long lost Bucky Barnes’ fiance from the 1940′s. What happens when she runs into Steve in 2012? Most importantly, what happens when she runs into The Winter Soldier?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POC Reader

Warnings: Fluff. Smut. Swearing. Painful memories. NSFW. 

“How did you…?” 

You took a small step back, placing a hand on your chest.  

Bucky gave you a small, sheepish smile,before looking over at the paintings in your room. There were countless ones, strung up on the little clothes line you put up, on the walls, on numerous easels. And every single one of them was of one person: Bucky.

He walked towards a specific one, which was a painting of him wearing his old military uniform. He was smiling that old, dorky little smile he used to give you. Behind him, was the Wonder Wheel at Coney Island. That was where you had your first date.

“You remember this?” he asked, looking over his shoulder at you with a smile. One that heavily resembled the painting. You nodded, feeling your cheeks heating.

“It was our first date, right?” you asked. He grinned this time, before looking back to the painting on the wall.

“I tried so hard to impress you that night,” he recalled as he ran his fingers over the artwork. “I kept trying to win that little teddy bear for you, but I kept missing every damn time.”

“You ended up stealing it instead.” You smiled as you recalled a very young Bucky as he hopped the counter when the man wasn’t looking and swiped the bear. You both ran so fast before the man could catch the two of you.

Bucky moved towards the next painting, which was one from the day you both made love for the first time. He was lying on his side, propped up onto his elbow as he peered down at you. The silver necklace you had given him was the only thing he was wearing, besides the sheets that were gathered around his waist. He was giving a lazy smile, his hair sticking up in random places.

“This was a really good night,” he chuckled; biting his lip as the memories of you withering beneath him came flooding back to his mind. He remembered exactly how you looked as he hovered over you, your moans filling the room as he pounded you into the mattress. And your breasts, man he loved those. He had seen all shapes and sizes back in his day, but yours were special. To him, they were perfection.

“You accidentally burned me with your cigarette right after that.” You reminded him, your eyebrow slightly rising. You could see the blush on his cheeks as he recalled the memory. Bucky loved to smoke in bed. Right after that picture, he lit a cigarette and forgot it was in his hand when the ash fell onto your shoulder, creating a dark scar.

Bucky slowly moved towards the last painting on the wall, which caught him off guard the most.

It was a recent one. He was sitting at the small table that belonged to the little rundown motel he had taken you to the day you were reunited. But this painting was different. Instead of him smiling, his face was set in a frown; his eyes were cold and lifeless.

“I take it you’re still mad about that night?” he asked as he turned around all the way this time.

“Well,” you began, stepping over some of the paint cans. “You did kidnap me and tie me up.”

“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he smirked. “You used to love being tied up.”

You blushed, giving his shoulder a playful punch as he laughed. For a split second, it felt like how it used to be: Bucky making you blush, while you both shared a laugh. One that you honestly hadn’t had in years.

The laughter slowly turned into cackles as Bucky jokingly poked your cheek. You giggled, crinkling your nose as you swatted his hand away.

You reached to his side and gently pinched his ribs, causing him to cackle and jerk away from you. Instantly, you let out another giggle.

“The Winter Soldier is ticklish?” You teased, smiling widely as he began backing away. He shook his head, his eyes wide as you began stalking towards him.

You lunged for him, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him down onto the tarp covered ground. You landed right on top of him with a dull thud.

“Y/N!” He laughed, his eyes crinkling from the giant smile he was currently wearing. “S-Stop!”

You ignored his pleas as you planted your fingertips onto his ribs and wiggled rapidly. He howled with laughter as you tickled him mercilessly. Truth be told, his smile did something to you. It made you want to sing every song in the world at the top of your lungs, or draw every thing that had to do with him. 

You were so lost in thought, you hadn’t noticed that Bucky had slid away from you, smirking devilishly. You blinked, looking over just in time to see him fly forward. He wrapped his arms around your smaller body and brought you onto the ground with him. 

You gasped as one of the paint cans tumbled over, splashing the both of you with lilac colored paint. 

You peered up at Bucky, who was hovering above you, watching you as if you were some interesting new discovery of some sort. He analyzed every single little feature on your face, along with your mannerisms. 

You smiled up at him, noticing the same one he gave back. 

Slowly, you noticed his paint covered fingertips brushing against your bottom lip, tracing the flesh lightly. You felt yourself leaning in, bringing your face near his as he did the same. It took him a second to understand, but when he did, he finally leaned in as well. 

For a split second, your lips touched and you swore you could feel the fireworks. The warmth in your chest. 

But this time, the ache in your skull was back, and from the pained look on Bucky’s face, it was affecting him as well. 


“Bucky,” you breathed.

Bucky hovered over you, his beautiful blue eyes soft with nothing but love. Love he had for one person only: you.

“I’ve never done this before,” you whispered, staring into his eyes. “I’m a virgin.”

Bucky’s lips slowly curled upwards into a smile as he watched your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink. You had never been with anyone before. You had been on a couple dates here and there, but in the end, it never worked out.

But Bucky, he was so different than the rest. He made you feel comfortable even in your time of need. He made you feel safe. Even when you were just holding hands, it felt so intimate not only on a physical level, but spiritually.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, sugar.” Bucky grinned, his voice growing soft. He reached down to you and gently moved a strand of your hair that had fallen upon your face.

“If it’s too much for you, tell me and I’ll stop.”

“But Bucky-” you protested.

“Y/N,” he clipped, his smile slowly turning into a frown. “This is supposed to be good for both of us, alright?”

You nodded, feeling your face heat up once more. You were so ready for this. You craved intimacy from Bucky, and now your wish was going to come true.

Bucky placed a small kiss onto your lips, his hand tracing your jawline, before pulling away from you. You watched as he pulled away from you and reaching over to his night stand and grabbing ahold of the condom.

Immediately, your heart began to race. Reality was hitting you like a brick wall now and you were realizing the seriousness of the situation. Bucky was going to make love to you. This was really happening.

He hurriedly slid the condom onto his thick length. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight before you. You had never seen that part of the male anatomy before, and you were extremely impressed. Also, you were a bit intimidated as well. Bucky…well, he was big.

Very big.

Noticing your shocked expression, he stopped his actions and peered down at you with a small, loving smile.

“What’s wrong, doll?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

You gulped, your gaze flickering from his length to his handsome face. You put on a fake smile.

“Nothing, Bucky…” you replied.

He raised his eyebrows before hovering over you once again. He placed small butterfly kisses onto your cheeks, moving down to your neck.

“Please don’t hide from me.” He begged, peering back up at you with puppy dog eyes, ones that made your heart swell.

“It’s gonna hurt,” you admitted. “You’re bit bigger than expected, Bucky.” He let out a chuckle before kneeling between your legs once more.

“It is gonna hurt, sugar,” he confessed as he gently pumped his cock with his hand. You immediately felt yourself becoming wetter by the second. “But it’s gonna get better, I promise. A couple minutes in and you won’t even feel it.”

You nodded, hypnotized by his movements and the small sighs that escaped his lips as he pleasured himself.

“Spread your legs for me, baby.” He said. His voice was lower, raspy with want.

You spread your legs wide, giving him a full view of your glistening core. You were soaked now and Bucky had to breathe to prevent himself from diving right in.

Once again, he leaned forward and hovered above your smaller body, positioning himself between your legs. You felt his cock rub against your folds, separating them.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, gently massaging his scalp with your fingers. This was it.

Bucky have you a small peck to your lips before rolling his hips forward, entering your heat.

You gasped, removing your hands from his neck and wrapping them around his biceps as he gave another experimental thrust. It hurt, you’d admit. But at the same time, it was somewhat pleasurable.

Bucky let out a groan, his heart thumping against yours wildly. His eyes were fixed on yours, burning into yours with intensity.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He asked as he thrusted into you once again. Your breath hitched as you felt a wave of pleasure course through your body.

“Bucky…” you whimpered, your eyes staring into his. “Do that again. Please!”

You let out a little “ah!” when he began a steady pace, his hips rolling into yours expertly, his cock hitting deeper and deeper inside of you.

Bucky looked so fucking gorgeous. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him no matter how hand you had tried. It’s as if his moans and gasps were enough to make you orgasm.

His lips were red and swollen from the kisses you had given him, but you didn’t care. You wanted nothing more than to make them even more swollen. His hair -jesus, it was wild just like you liked it.

His shoulders flexed each time he fucked you, giving you a show of his muscular body. One of your hands trailed down his back, resting onto his perfect little ass and gave it a small pinch.

He gasped, his eyes flying open and peering down at you with a grin. “You’re such a dirty girl, Y/N.” he spoke, sending your heart soaring through the sky.

You curiously looked down between your bodies. You let out a moan as you watched his cock entering your core, glistening with your juices. His skin hitting against yours only made it even more dirty and you yearned to hear it as much as you could.

You spread your legs wider, gently pulling Bucky into you with your hands on his lower back. You were in pure euphoria, and you wanted this every single day. Even if you had to quit your job, you’d gladly do it for a session with Bucky. It was so addicting.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, feeling your thighs trembling uncontrollably. You felt the strangest sensation between your legs, building deep within your body and spreading like wildfire. Your breaths became shaky little huffs as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.

Bucky was lost in you.

He was staring down at you, his lips curled into that loving smile he wore as he rolled his hips into you forcefully. The headboard of his bed slammed against his wall, creating small dents in it, but you both didn’t give a single care.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he moaned, his lips parting as he fucked you harder. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”

You dug your nails into his back, resting your head onto his shoulder as his hips began to stutter. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you as he picked up his pace. A thin layer of sweat began to form on the two of you, but neither of you cared.

“Fuck, I-I think I’m….” You whimpered, feeling your body tense as the euphoric feeling began releasing throughout your body, shaking you to your core. You through your head back onto the pillows, letting out a blood curdling scream as Bucky fucked your first orgasm into you. Your mouth was open, forming a perfect little ‘O’.

Bucky’s hand went to your breast, kneading the soft flesh softly as he watched you release. He was so close behind you, he could feel himself growing closer and closer within each second. With a shout of your name, Bucky rested his head against yours and released himself into the condom, his body collapsing on top of yours.

You peered up at him with a smile, analyzing his blissed out face. He looked so beautiful like this, his hair messy and his eyes screwed shut from the immense pleasure you were giving him. You raised your hand and cupped his cheek.

“How was that, doll?” he huffed, his eyes half lidded as he gave you that dorky smile. You giggled, feeling nothing but pure love for him.

“That was…amazing, Bucky.” You replied. “I want this every day. I don’t care how tired I am.”

He let out a laugh, planting a kiss onto your cheek before rolling onto his back. He turned his back to you, reaching over for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand and plucking one from the packet. He placed it between his lips before lighting it with the lighter he always carried around with him.

With a sigh, he rolled over until he was facing you. He propped himself up onto his elbow, giving you a boyish grin.

“So,” he began, taking a drag of the cigarette. You giggled and peered up at him, still lying on your back.

“So,” you repeated with a grin.

Before he could speak, a small piece of the ash from his cigarette, landing right onto your bare shoulder.

“Shit!” He spat, before reaching behind himself and putting the cigarette out in the ash tray.

You yelped before brushing the ash from your skin. It burned like hell.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” he asked, his eyes filled with worry. You nodded, sinking into the bed with a contempt sigh. , but you wouldn’t let that ruin your mood. You were still buzzing from the most intense orgasm he had given you.

You peered up at him, giving him a million dollar smile.

“i’m just peachy, baby.” 


*squeals* now we know how that whole thing went down ;)

Tag list of super awesome people!  ❤️

@sebbylover24 @softwintersoldier @amrita31199 @jezzula @jenna-luke @harrisbn @ifoundlove-x0vanessa0x @ballerinafairyprincess @gingerbatchwife @callmeoncette @bellaballanda @sebbyismyking @abigailredgrave @chou-maitresse @twinklingstarlight @abovethesmokestacks @dracu-ma-bucky @persephone-is-here-omg @i-write-tragedies-and-sins @melconnor2007 @nenyakj @watergirl1996 @marveloussssworld @ihavetwobuckystomyname @megandrawsspace @wintersoldieressiam @fridabarnes @abovethesmokestacks @mizzzpink @diana-daydreamer @meganlane84 @adrianabribiescacortes @r3stl3ss-minds @queen–valeskaxx @winterboobaer @addictivewriter @tatortot2701 @supersoldier-buckybarnes @the-winter-avengerrrrr @the-witching-hours12-3 @netflixa @kaitskennedyy @witheringblooddemon @lostinspace33@nottheopera @beebossinner @ktrivia @4theluvofall @the-lazy-leprechaun @behindthesehazeleyes27 @38leticia @davinaciaire @cry-me-a-fkin-river @buckyshattergirl@raeintheusa @helloitsgrc @icedragoncred1763 @sebbeanstan @shieldagentofthemonth @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @sheriwallace123 @permanent-lines @hellstempermentalangel @answer-the-sirens @badassbaker @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @therealgoldenbookworm @buckyappreciationsociety @dream-equine @munsurieya@feelmyroarrrr @learisa @stephie-senpai @vindictivegrace @valynsia @saffreelove @say-my-name-assbut @feelthemusicfuckwhatheyresaying @alucialunn12 @bad-wolf87 @such-a-common-girl @yknott81 @frolicsomefawkes @svetlanaabril @hellahornyvirgin @amour-quinn @tirednwired05 @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @harleycativy @mirkwoodprincess @crazinessgraveyardsandcartoons @deathordesire  @sassycat15 @chamongangae@loricameback @steves-bitch @alternativelycliche @starnova143 @molethemollie @bloo-moon-freak @themermaidpirate @vacam79 @i-swam-through-twelve-oceans @academic-poltergeist @screamlikealunatic @kcsavege4134 @marvelxharry @marvelouslyloki @hotemotionalmess @beebossinner @almondbuttercup @followeroonieclassic @happily-beinghappy @ria132love @mariathedorkydragon @peoniesinmyhair @bvckys-doll@vibraniumdoll @chrishemm11 @oh-brother-mine-92 @bubble-dreamer123 @archer-whovian-violinist @ayo-minty-jess @lottaswonderland @blazeshira @thefanempress @arabellaaurorabarnes @kduran04 @monsis-world @cutescreenname @buckybarnesbestbabe @fandomlover2001 @cassandras-musings @dead-inside52 @girlwith100names

NCT's reaction to having a '01 liner s/o that's 1.55 cm

Request: “hey can i get NCT’s reaction having a 01’ liners s/o n about 155cm height? thankyouu and sorry for asking much😭😭💖 💖 ”

A/N: First thing first, I’m 1.53 cm and I’m a ‘01 liner too so it was SO weird to do, lmao. Also, I had not problems with the Dreamies but, to make things legal, when it comes to the oldest members I wrote it as them being even older. For example, in 2019 I’ll be 18 then Taeil would be like 25? And since that’s a little less ilegal I did it like that with all the oldies. Does this make sense? Like, I’m not good either at maths or English so is hard to explain, lmao. Anyways, I just wanted to clear that out because I’m all about being legal. 😤😤


I don’t think he would pay that many attention to your height, but from time to time you can catch him staring at you, completely lost in love with you as his eyes shine and he has a wide smile on his face. He adores your body and loves contemplating how precious and angelic you are, even if there’s a big age gap, he doesn’t pay too many attention to it either. He’s in love with you and that’s not going to change.

Originally posted by taeiljaeh


This gigant absolutely loves the height gap between both of you. He finds it really funny and cute. There are times were you’re simply hugging him and out of the blue he would start giggling as he caresses your hair. “You’re so small, Y/N. It’s adorable.” He was very self-concious about being on a relationship with you at first because of the age difference, but he quickly felt more comfortable around you, making him forget about it quickly.

Originally posted by sweetlyjoyfulmeee


Another gigant who finds the height gap really funny but, unlike Hansol, he would tease you about it all the time, and probably also brings up the fact that he’s older than you to keep teasing you about how small you are. But he truly doesn’t care, we all know how open minded this guy is and he can easily talk for hours and hours about how much he loves you and your body whenever he gets serious or sees that you’re feeling insecure about it.

Originally posted by ohbaibeeitsyou


SO. CARING. He would be that annoying boyfriend that would be taking care of you the whole time, sending you messages and leaving post-its with reminders telling you to eat healthy and sleep the right amount of hours. He would also do lots of things for you like cooking and buying you lots of stuff, basically, you’ll have this guy in the palm of your hand.

Originally posted by nctjay


The fact that you’re so smol and like six years younger than him would let his protective and manly side go out. Not all the time, but he would act in a more mature way and would be constantly taking care of you, but when it comes to skinship and cuddles he would be extra clingy with you because you’re more than adorable in his eyes.

Originally posted by taei


He would shower you in compliments 24/7. He would think that your height makes you extreme adorable and the fact that you’re like five years younger than him would make the image of you even cuter in his eyes. He would make you know how much he loves you everyday with sweet actions and romantic words.

Originally posted by yunar


He would make fun of you because of you height or age just when you attack him first. “Stop talking about the way my eyebrows move when I sing, you’re like five.” But he would always make sure that you’re fine with things like that, if you’re the kind of get easily offended or you feel uncomfortale with your body then you’ll have him reminding you every single day about how beautiful you are in his eyes.

Originally posted by songnayoongifs


He wound love your height so much. He would tease you about it a lot but you’re so cuddly and tiny that he can’t help but also be hugging you and kissing you the whole time. Gurl, you make this boi weAk.

Originally posted by senpai-sisters


He wouldn’t tease you too much about it but, like Ten, he would be a bit more cuddly and clingy with you. He just can’t contain himself whenever you’re around because you’re extremely adorable and the fact that you’re younger than him would only make him softer for you.

Originally posted by neotechs


He would rarely tease you about the fact that you’re like 25cm shorter than him, except when his savage mood comes out of nOwhere and starts talking shit about everyone, lol. He would really like this cute side of you but he would be too shy to express it with words and sometimes even with actions, but he would still leave kisses on your forehead and pat your head in a sweet way to make you understand how much he loves you in his way.

Originally posted by neotechs


This angel wouldn’t even think about making fun of your height or obligate you to do things just because you’re younger. I feel like he would really like being the older one in the relationship, especially since the age gap is only of three years and that’s basically nothing. He would adore you and make sure that you know how important you are to him.

He looks fucking angelic in this gif, what the fuck Mark.

Originally posted by nakasyuta


Here’s other guy who wouldn’t care about your age or height that much. He would treat you normally but maybe with lots and lots of forehead kisses and hugs where you can place your head in his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

Originally posted by haechanz


He wouldn’t make fun of you with words but he would take advantage of your height and laugh a lot at how adorable you are. For example, he would place things in high shells and then smile when he hears your asking him for help, or carry you in his arms and spin you around. You’re just really adorable and he can’t help but smile brightly whenever he’s with you because of your cuteness.

Originally posted by jaehwanspsycholaugh


He would tease you about your height a lot on a daily basis, but he actually loves how smol you are. He would backhug you all the time and then place lots of kisses on top your head. And since you’re younger than him he would be really attentive with you, making sure that you’re resting enough and eating well. Basically, you’ll have the sweetest boyfriend ever.

Originally posted by haenyan


He would absolutely adore you. Your small body and your height are things he founds really precious, and the fact that you’re younger that him would make his protective side go out, making him to be really caring and sweet with you and also babying you all the time when you’re actually just only one year younger than him.

Originally posted by mayfifolle


Since he’s also a ‘01 liner he wouldn’t have any problems with it, and the fact that you’re so smol and tiny would make him weak. He wouldn’t tease you too much because he sees your height as something good. He would hug you a lot instead, so be prepared to have this guys arms around you 24/7.

Originally posted by nctaezen


The fact that he’s younger than you wouldn’t be too weird for him. He’s used to always being the younger one so it’s not even something strange for him anymore. And talking about your height, he wouldn’t tease you either but would be constantly comparing his height with yours, getting surprised at how tiny you are and how tall he is.

Originally posted by nctinfo

Unaware As Why

Originally posted by 1derland-niall-louis-blog

“And there’s your baby.”

The ultrasound technician reports as you and Harry watch the screen tentatively.  At five months pregnant, your belly is slowly but surely enlarging, as you watch the trained woman run the transducer probe across it.

“Would you like to know the gender?” She smiles and you snap your head towards Harry.

“Do we?”

He gives you a look of agreement and you nod towards the woman in charge.

She moves the transducer around a bit more, studying the screen closely before beaming at you both.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs.Styles, you’re having a baby girl.”

You let out a breath as Harry’s eyes widen, lips curling into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen from him.

“R-Really?” His countenance is happier than a child at Disneyland and you hold the same appearance.

The technician nods, “Really.” Your husband leans over to give you the best hug he could as you lie on the bed, cold jelly over your bump.

He leans closer into you as you are handed a copy of the ultrasound image, eyes filled with admiration.

“Hi there,” Harry speaks to your stomach, “you’re beautiful already, if you could see yourself.”

The technician gives you a nod before exiting, giving you both a few moments to yourselves.

“I’m so glad to be having you, princess.” He kisses a soft spot, almost in tears.

“Hi, love.” You greet your soon-to-be-born daughter, “Daddy’s a bit emotional, if you haven’t already learned.” A laugh electing from both of you.

“We’re so excited to have you, I hope you know how happy we are. I hope we can make you happy as well.”

Your husband carries a face of contentment as he squeezes your hand, laying a kiss on your knuckles.

“Your mummy and I love you so, so much.” He whispers closely, rubbing your side gently.

“So much.”


“This is fun.” You declare, a price gun in your hand as you register items for your baby shower.

“Mm, nothing else can compare to putting the dangling thing that will hang over your daughter’s crib on your baby list.” Gemma jokes, scanning the bar code of a crib mobile.

The countdown is on as you slowly begin more and more preparation for the baby, one of them being to actually purchase furniture. Gemma insisted on aiding you with the task, telling you that her future niece would appreciate her opinion. You were going to ask her anyway.

“My goodness, this is all so adorable.” She gushes at the plush toys, taking one into her hands.

“Consider it my first present to her, whatever her name is.”

You giggle, “Darcy, or Sydney. Your brother can’t make up his mind.”

She scrunches her face, “You’re not picking it?”

“Well,” You pick up a random toy, “I can’t really find a decent one without it being linked to someone I don’t like or Harry doesn’t, nor can I seem to decide on much lately. But, regardless of that, even before we were married, I know that a baby girl is all Harry’s been waiting for so I thought I’d let him choose. Besides, I’m more of the veto person rather than the suggestion type when it comes to this big of a decision.”

With a nod, Gemma bends to check the cost of a crib you two were examining earlier.

“God… that’s too much.” You frown after learning the price. It is perfect however, something you could easily convert into a toddler bed when the time comes. The colour is one of your favourites and you could already picture your little one curled up in it, with you and Harry hovering over her with adoration emanating off your bodies.

Gemma smiles, “And my second present to her.”

You gasp, “No, no, Gem. I can’t let you get this for her-”

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Well, obviously I think she’ll love it but-”

“Then she’ll look beautiful in it.” She stops your sentence, and you learn not to fight it. She’d only sneak around you later on despite your arguments.

“How is she doing, anyways? How was yesterday’s check-up?”

You grin, “Fantastic. The nurse said she and I are doing fantastic for eighteen weeks.” You place your hand on top of your protruding belly, feeling her movement underneath you.

“Gem,” You whisper, “She just kicked. Do you want to feel?”

Her eyes pop out, immediately situating her own hand on the spot.

“You feel that?” She nods, stunned at your daughter’s actions. “I think that might be her knee.” You feel the bulge.

“God, I cannot wait for you.” She informs your bump, giving it a light kiss before smiling widely at you.

“I am so going to spoil her.”

You laugh, “I can tell by the cost of the things you’ve just declared your buying within the last five minutes.”

“Something tells me that her father isn’t going to hold back on it either.” She winks.

“You don’t even know the half of it, Gem.”


“Well someone seems happy.” Harry muses, watching you smile widely at your phone. “Looking at photos of me?”

You scoff at him, “Absolutely not. I’d have a face of agony whilst seeing those.”

He rolls his eyes, opening the duvet to lie beside you.

“I’m just looking over some of the things we ordered. Gem is already spoiling her and she’s not due for another four months.”

“Of course.” He laughs, “What, did she buy a crib or something?”

“Actually, yes,” You smirk at him, “care to see it?” You load the photo of the purchased item.

“Oh god,” He groans, nuzzling his nose into your neck, “I told her not to do anything like that for us.”

Your eyes bulge out in fake surprise, “She’s just as stubborn as her brother!”

“Very funny.” Harry squints at you, “Let’s hope she doesn’t have her mother’s sense of humour.”

You gasp, “You’re so rude! Like you’re any better with your knock-knock jokes.”

“Those provoke quality laughs! The fans love them!” He gapes, eyebrows curled in confusion.

“The fans love you, Harry.” You chuckle, “And loving you also comes with putting up with your dork-like actions.”

“You love them.” He shakes his head, pecking the button of your nose.

“I do, and she will as well.”


It all remains extremely vivid in your mind.

Everything happened so quickly, so suddenly with adrenaline surging through both your bloodstreams.

First, you were stripping down for a shower. You giggled to yourself as you remembered Harry’s whining for you not to leave him on the couch just a few minutes ago. The water was warming as you shed your undergarments whilst examining your figure in the mirror.

“Shit.” You muttered, realising you left the towels in the dryer from washing them earlier that day. You shut off the water and wrapped a robe around yourself before exiting.

Whilst the towels, you suddenly felt a sharp pain to your pelvic region. You stood in the hallway, clutching both your lower area and your back, for it as well was hurting.

“Ah,” You hissed, wishing for the pressure to disappear as you went back to the bathroom.

As you reached out for the faucet lever, you felt it. Water pushed out from your core and flowed down to the tile of your bathroom. You gasped, having a heavy feeling of what it already was.

“No, no.” You shook your head furiously, not wanting to believe the gut feeling in your stomach.

“Harry!” You called, him rushing to the bathroom at the sound.

“What’s the matter?” He inquires before seeing a pool of liquid underneath you.

“We need to get to the hospital.”

The entire scene replays in your head over and over again as you sit distressed in the waiting room of the hospital. Your eyes hardly blink from being so uneasy.

Harry rubs the back of your hand gently, attempting to keep a relaxed face despite the trouble.

“Y/N Styles?” A nurse calls out, clipboard in hand.

You both stand apprehensively, sharing a sigh before following the nurse.

“Dr. Cameron should be in shortly, it’s good that she’s still here.” You are told.

Ten minutes in whilst waiting, your regular doctor makes an appearance.

“So what seems to be the problem?” She asks, cheery regardless of the long shift she must have gone through.

Harry exchanges looks with you before recounting the night’s events.


“We’re going to do an ultrasound first just to check up on everything.” The machinery is pulled out and cold jelly is applied to your bump.

The doctor’s mouth parts as she studies the screen, waving the transducer around. You hear her sigh, causing you to be alarmed.

“What, what’s going on?”

“We’re going to run some tests on your body.” She states curtly.

“Why? Is my baby okay?” You tremble in the bed, tightening your grasp on Harry’s hand.

She parts her lips for a few seconds, scrambling to find a proper response. “We’re checking to make sure she is.”

Several tests are taken on your body, leaving you and your husband in angst inside the exam room. Harry would occasionally lean in to kiss parts of your body in an attempt to calm your nerves.

Dr. Cameron finally enters the room hours later, a file of papers in her grip. She tries to have a poker face however you know it will not last.

“The pressure and sudden burst was your water breaking.” She informs you both, confirming your earlier thoughts.

“How can that be? I-I’m still in my second trimester.” You stare at her, mouth ajar.

She gives you an uneasy look before sitting in the side chair next to you.

“This is due to a condition called cervical insufficiency, where weak cervical tissue causes it to open early, resulting in premature birth or the loss of the baby. Though it is rare, it can happen anywhere in your second trimester and holds fatal risks in a pregnancy. In your case, which unfortunately has happened before, when your water broke, the placenta along with tissue from the fetus were released from your body.”

You sit speechless, scrambling to find the proper words. But there isn’t anything you can say as your lower lip trembles, tears at the brink of falling. Harry grips your hand tighter, speaking for you.

“S-So what does this mean?”

Dr. Cameron swallows hard, her face full of something you’d never want to see from a doctor.

“The placenta is connected to the umbilical cord, where nutrients transport from your body to your baby. Because the placenta was lost from your body, your baby could not survive. You’ve had a miscarriage, I’m sorry.”

“W-We…” You stumble on your words, a sob escaping your lips. Your hand falls away from your stomach to Harry, whose strong-willed facade fell to one of disbelief, motionless as you tug him closer.

“I’ll um…I’ll give you two some time.” She exits the room quietly, leaving an implacable silence to circulate through.

Your vision is blurry whilst gazing at Harry, who wears an expressionless face. His lips are parted with eyes full of every emotion there could be. He doesn’t know what to feel, or how to feel.

“H.” You gasp out, blinking rapidly as more tears cascade down your face.

He looks at you with water-filled eyes, parting his lips every few seconds in an attempt to make some sense of the situation. However, as he lets out a wary breath and leans in closer, nothing needs to be said. Harry clutches you closer, finally crying as well while rocking you both back and forth.

“We’ll be okay.” He tells you weakly, having a hard time believing the sentence himself. Though despite any situation, he would always reassure the both of you that it would be alright.


Silence overtakes the rest of the night.

On the car ride home, your vision is fixed out the window. Though you’ve been through this ride countless times before, it is only now that you notice the amount of city lights that surround you.

Subconsciously, your hand drops to your belly. Normally, you’d feel a small kick from your little one. Nothing is there anymore.

You begin to cry, tears travelling a well-known route down your face. You’re forced to bite your lip to hold back a sob, however Harry already knows you’re bawling. He takes your hand in his, releasing a breath.

It becomes harder to breathe as you give in, heaving to yourself. He only squeezes your hand harder, water expelling from his eyes as well.

“She can’t be gone.” You say lowly, eyes now trained on the dashboard in front of you.

Harry peeks over at you, rubbing his thumb across your the back of your hand. Nothing more is said until you reach home.

Inside, you are stricken harshly with reality. Every step becomes increasingly difficult as you head towards the bedroom, your breath lost with each whimper. Harry strides behind you, a hand situated on your back to prevent you from breaking down.

You’re forced to hold back a blubber whilst walking past the nursery, refusing to glance inside.

“Almost there.” His voice pokes, guiding you to the bedroom. You almost don’t want to be there since the connecting en-suite is where it happened.

Once tucked in, you have a hard time finding any solace despite your husband’s calming touch.

“She can’t be.” You mutter, staring at the glass of water on your bedside table.

He sighs from behind you, feeling the pain course through him as well. Slinging an arm to your side, Harry kisses your temple softly. For a moment, he nuzzles his nose into your neck, laying another kiss to your sweet spot.

“I love you.” He whispers, and though you aren’t able to reply, he knows your answer very well.


“We don’t have a baby anymore, Harry.” You utter gently, more tears flowing down as he enters the room. “We should just return all of those things.” You refer to the crib full of baby items you had just bought days ago whilst in the living room.

He gulps down, glancing at you nervously from his upright position. He’s not willing to do anything rash just yet. Quite frankly, having to deal with any reality that does not include your daughter is like being repeatedly slapped in the face to him.

“Maybe we should wait, love. We need time to think about everything before making irrational decisions.”

“What’s the point?” You snap your head up at him, a glare clear across your face. “She’s gone, Harry! She’s not here anymore.”

You then realise your hand has been stroking on your belly, and at the absence of warmth from your palm does it hit you that there will no longer be any movement.

Your husband snaps his head up to meet your scowl, though with a face of empathy rather than one ready to argue.

“We don’t need to keep those things if we aren’t expecting anymore. It’d be even more irrational to have them around. ” You tell him harshly, your tear-streaked face.

He says nothing to fight back, only taking strides from his away position to you. You glance up at him, warmth encompassing your body as he embraces you closely.

“It’s okay.” He whispers, stroking the back of your head as you cry softly into his chest. Tears spring down his eyes as well, pressing his lips together to keep quiet. He is unsure of what to say, both of you are. What do you do in a situation as tragic as this?

With a kiss to the top of your head, you find solace in his body, soon drifting off into sleep.


Three days have passed since the incident.

You have not had much contact with the rest of the world, Harry doing all of the food shopping so that you don’t have to go out. The only people you have spoken to are your mother and mother in-law, both feeding you words of wisdom and comfort.

“Love, I knew someone who suffered from that exact event when I was your age.” Anne told you over the phone, “It was difficult, but they were able to get through it. A few years later, they ended up having two kids who are very healthy from the last time I’ve spoken to her.”

You give a half-hearted smile, “Thank you for the hope. Dr. Cameron said there would be some correction procedure I could go through, should we want to try again.”

She nodded, “There we go. You should never give up on it, darling.”

Harry was then handed the phone, with his mother relaying to him that she was proud.

“What do we do, mum.” He asked, teary eyed as he left the room.

“Nothing else.” She replied, a small smile making its way to her face. “You’re doing everything you can at the moment, both of you are. You’re taking care of yourselves, which is the best thing you can do.”

He pouted lowly at his mother, thankful for the reassurance.

“I know it’s difficult, love. But you have to be strong, for the both of you.”

Harry had been, seeing as he was the one to make sure the two of you still functioned by doing normal human things. He would cook meals when the time came for needed nutrients and run a sponge across your body when it came time to cleanse. For the most part, his touch would never leave your skin, not that you ever wanted it to.

“I’m proud of you for looking after her.” His mother cooed.

“She’s done it before for the both of us.” Harry paused to take a glimpse of you, seeing your blank stare at the painting he had done not too long ago. “Now it’s my turn.”

That was two days ago. You now stand listless in your hallway, peering into the room that would be a nursery. Your hand absentmindedly falls to your stomach before remembering that nothing is there anymore, and so you swipe it away quickly.

Your husband stands a few feet behind you, arms crossed as he follows your movement inside the room. You plant yourself on the floor with Harry following suit.

“Why do people always say ‘I’m sorry’ when something terrible happens.” You utter, vision fixed on nothingness.

“I mean, most of the time it isn’t even their fault. In most situations, they had nothing to do with why it went so badly and there’s nothing they could do to fix it.”

“I think they just say it as an expression of empathy,” He attempts to reason, “that ‘I’m sorry’ is supposed to a symbol of understanding emotional pain and feeling remorse for us having to go through it.”

You chortle, “Why should anyone feel guilt when I’m the only one to blame.”

His face falls, head shaking at your response, “Don’t say that, please don’t think that, angel.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” You choke out, “You probably think it too.”

“No, I don’t.” He swallows, tears now travelling down his cheeks.

Your hand travels to your stomach again, which is now bump free. Your face is sour, water decorating it slowly.

“C’mon, Harry.” You mutter softly, “If it weren’t for my damn cervix opening up early, we’d still be having a baby.”

“Please stop saying those things, my love.” He practically begs you whilst trying to intertwine your hand with his.

“What is it that people in the medical field call it, an ‘incompetent cervix’, hm?” You almost laugh at how pathetic you’re feeling at the moment.

“You can’t put yourself at fault here, darling.”

“And why not?” You snap, though your face is still soft, “It’s because of me and my stupid body, you know that.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t know that. You don’t know that either.”

“How can you be so sure it wasn’t your incompetent wife’s fault?” You susurrate, losing your grasp on the situation.

“Because I cannot blame you for something you had no control over.”

You don’t meet his eyes as he continues, “There’s no possible way you or anyone else, even the ultrasound technician, would have known that this would happen. Dr. Cameron said that cervical insufficiency is very hard to diagnose especially if a pregnant woman appears as healthy as you are. So please, please, Y/N, don’t fall so hard over something so tragic that no one would predict.”

“Why aren’t you angry?” You shift your head to face his. “Why are you so good to me in this situation?”

“You are not incompetent, nor are you responsible for this happening.” He replies as you finally allow your fingers to come together.

Resting your head upon his shoulder, he wraps an arm to meet your other side. You lick your dry lips as water glides past them and onto your thighs. Grief is written across your face but fades the tighter your husband holds you. Harry breathes out, the weight of the world slowly but surely lifting off his shoulders every time you allow him in.

“If we aren’t meant to have her right now, then we aren’t.” Though it pains him to speak those words, you both know that they are the truth.


The next morning you are awaken at the early hour of 7am.

“What are you doing?” You grumble, noticing the time at which you were shaken up.

“Up, love. We’re going out today.”

Your face falls into a panic, “W-Why? Harry, I don’t-”

“I think we both know that we need some time away from this house.”

He kisses your temple whilst tracing your hair softly, “C’mon.”

The 8:35am train from London to Dorset is one that is not very packed on a Monday. Most people would be going into the city, not out from it.

You did not argue very much about leaving, considering you did not have the energy or mentality to want to do so with your husband. He sits across from you with a guitar on his side, gazing out the window.

“Admiring me, again?” He smirks and you giggle, the first one since the accident.

“More like wondering why you brought that, you hardly ever play it for me, let alone out in public.”

“Hm, you’ll see when we get there.” He hums, going back to watching the English countryside travel past him.

After a few hours and a taxi drive, you two arrive at the top of East Cliff in West Bay, Dorset. The morning fog has yet to clear up, leaving you to peer out into the grey distance.

“This is amazing, Harry.” You remark at the beauty of your surroundings. He hums in reply, kissing the top of your head.

Your hands are shoved into your pockets as you marvel at the view. The Atlantic ocean seems endless from your position, local fisherman decorating the sea. The grass underneath you is soft, green as can be along with seagulls making their noise not too far away. The ocean breeze is almost enough to clear your mind. Almost.

“When I was struggling with myself,” Harry starts, bringing you back to his presence. “with all the attention from the media while trying to find out who I was, you never once argued with me about it. You never once got upset with me, or at least you didn’t do it to my face.”

You watch his movement, sighing as he added on, “I know me having a hard time affected us both, but you never once doubted that things would get better. You held us up. Now it’s my turn to be strong for the both of us.”

“Harry…” You utter, realising why he has never once lashed back at your anger.

“Though it’s killing me that we have to have this, I know we’ll get through it.” He whispers as the corners of his lips curve up.

“Thank you.” You say in a hushed tone, sending a smile back.

It is silent for a few more minutes until the steady strum of a familiar song echos to your ears. Harry stands beside you, getting ready to sing.

You were just a small bump unborn, in four months you’re brought to life
You might be left with my hair, but you’ll have your mother’s eyes

Your breath hitches at the choice of song, chills running up your spine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand tall as you are unable to comprehend your emotions.  

I’ll hold your body in my hands be as gentle as I can
And now your scan on my unmade plans
Small bump, in four months you’re brought to life

Tears accumulate as he continues singing, you noting the emotions coursing through him as well.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” You gasp, the tears cascading down your cheeks. You almost hum along, the song fitting everything that’s gone on in your life.

I’ll hold you tightly, I’ll give you nothing but truth
If you’re not inside me, I’ll put my future in you

You think about your baby, where she is and how she is doing. The events you had already imagined in your mind are no longer coming to pass, but with every turning second you know that she’ll always be with you somehow to celebrate.

The jitters you held about giving birth, dealing with the lack of sleep, temper tantrums and fits of crying all faded once she went away. You aren’t going to join the armada of mothers in the world who speak the same language just yet, however you know that Darcy or Sydney will always make you think like one.

“She would’ve had all the love in the world.” You whisper, lips twitching into a smile of getting over your grief.

“She already does.” Harry responds before singing the last verse of Small Bump.

‘Cause you were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life.
Maybe you were needed up there but we’re still unaware as why 

I don’t have any words for this, mainly because it was so difficult to write both physically and emotionally. Nevertheless, thank you to the anon who requested this, I hope it’s alright. Apologies for the medical side of this if it isn’t right, I tried my best to make it seem accurate.

If you’ve ever had a miscarriage / know someone that has, I’m sorry. I understand that miscarriages come more often than we think and I don’t know why, but I do hope that whoever has experienced it is able to cope well with the situation. It’ll be alright.

If you’ve ever watched Broadchurch (One of my top four fav shows, seriously), then the cliffs of where it is filmed is where Harry and Y/N go. If you’ve ever seen House M.D. (also one of my complete favs, ugh), Dr. Cameron on there is who I refer to here, heh.

Thank you for being so lovely in reading, messaging and following. You’re wonderful

Love to you if you’re reading this,

Iz xx

100 things art challenge for myself

by catrockchen Rules: I can complete more than one challenge within a day, but I must complete 1 daily. I can skip around. Each drawing must live up those of the previous day by being better or different. They must all come from life.
Each day I will have to draw an environment in addition to the daily challenge.

1. Self portrait (3 versions)
2. Houses (5 studies)
3. 6 body parts
4. Shoes (7 studies)
5. Color
6. Trees (7 studies)
7. Body variations
8. Cars (9 studies
9. Feet in 11 different styles.
10. No pen/black. Only shapes. No line.
11. Electronics (20 studies)
12. Hands in 10 color palettes)
13. Daily environment/life.
14. Animation concept
15. Animation character design
16. 3 environment studies
17. Pattern study
18. Redesign clothing I am wearing that day
19. Animation storyboard
20.vespas and motorcycles
21. Hyperealism
22. Shadows from foliage
23. Repetition with color
24. Two t-shirt designs
25. Birds eye view
26. 3 OC designs I plan on using
27. Storytelling in one image
28. 10 comic strips
29. 20 surfaces and textures.
30. My 3 meals
31. Gross vs beautiful
32. Space vs underwater
33. 3 environments from 3 different personality’s perspectives
34. Every single Disney princess
35. Shoulders, necks, and chin studies
36. Three fav sports
37. 10 improvements of 1 study
38. 8 pants studies
39. 9 shirt studies
40. 12 dresses
41. 4 computers
42. 8-bit content or style
43. Distortion and exaggeration or fisheye
44. Motion study as a complete illustration
45. Redraw 1 sketchbook page as completion
46. Large painting in acrylics
47. Some hats
48. Water on surfaces
49. Seasons
50. Holidays
51. Imaginary things in real environment
52. Ugly sketches made likable
53. What’s in your bag
54. Hair studies (20 versions)
55. More vehicles
56. Draw your dream
57. Super exaggeration of 16 bodies on one page
58. Cultural studies
59. Animation idea/concept 2
69. Animation idea/ concept 3
70. Patterns on background
72. Fleshed out animation sceneries
73. 5 different styles of backgrounds for animations
74. Bag full of love and heart
75. Stories I like
76. Childhood events
77. 20 eyebrow studies
78. Freebie (whatever I want)
79. Aging of 3 faces
80. Decaying objects
81. Light and shadow with extreme perspective
82. I exaggerated animated action under 5 seconds
83. Redraw an old story idea with a new style
84. Draw a person in 6 different dimensions.
85. Put myself multiple times in 1 drawing
86. Draw tiny and draw big
87. Animate an inanimate object
88. Animate something (freebie)
89. Sketches in homework and lecture notes
90. Time lapse of tech in 1 image
91. Animate emotions
92. Pretend to pitch a show idea
93. Fully animated scene.
94. Animate an illusion
95. Artist inspired
95. Animate an artist inspired
96. More background art
97. OCs based on animals (5)
98. OCs based on shapes (5)
99. Fantasy vehicle
100. Fantasy house

Black, White, and Red

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader
Word count: 1,345
Warnings: SPOILERS, angst and really bad grammar, sorry man

The room was almost monochromatic. White walls, white tile floor, the almost white skin of a broken man. Black marble tub, black robe folded neatly atop a small end table, the black abyss of outer space. The only color in the room was the angry red scar that ran down his face and chest. He gazed out the triangle-shaped window that took up the whole wall of the bath chamber, sinking deeper into the water. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the room otherwise silent. It was too silent, an uneasy silence that made it too easy for him to be lost in his thoughts. He looked down at his upper arm, brushing his fingertips over the raised scar that was almost healed. His hand lingered and his breathing grew ragged as he was reminded of his failure. He had lost the girl, lost the droid, lost everything he needed to continue on his mission to find Luke Skywalker. He was a disappointment who would never live up to his grandfather’s legacy. A pang of loss gripped his heart as his thoughts led a dangerous path to Han Solo. What was this feeling? Regret? He quickly disappeared under the water, his whole body trembling. Under the surface, a pained scream ripped through the water, just a silent whisper to the air. He reemerged, panting heavily and staring into the water, wrapping his arms around himself as if he had to hold himself together. A knock startled him out of his panicked state, bringing him back to reality. His head whipped around and he stared at the double doors, his jaw clenching and chest heaving still. A mixture of water and sweat trickled down his skin, falling on his full lips. Before he could make an objection, one door began to open. Irritated by the interruption, he awkwardly pushed his wet mop of hair out of his face and flashed an angry look at the intruder.

What was revealed was a sight that was painfully startling. Kylo Ren glares at you, venom in his eyes. The long nose, puffy magenta lips, ink-black mess of hair that hung around his shoulders, those are all familiar. The jagged wound that snaked down the side of his face and vicious stare are not. A soft sigh of relief manages to slip past your lips as you watch his expression soften with realization. He looks down into the water guiltily for a moment, letting you linger nervously by the door. When he looks back up at you, he reaches out a long arm to you silently. You stride across the smooth floor, settling on the edge of the tub and taking his hand. He kisses yours gently and gives it a squeeze, looking up at you with those sad brown eyes. In the past few weeks, you had grown accustomed to his weary, pained aura, but it never stops hurting to see him this way. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, looking over at the floor. “I didn’t know you would be coming.” You laugh softly, brushing your hair behind your ear.

 “It’s alright. I’m sorry for not warning you in advance.” He shook his head hard, a piece of wet hair falling over his eye, almost perfectly mirroring the burn on the other side of his face. 

“No, no, I’m glad you’re here.” You give him a half-smile, running your fingers through the surface of the water and watching the ripples. He watches your hand, motionless and quiet. Your eyes wander over the man before you. His pale, broad shoulders are speckled with freckles. You’ve always liked them- it reminds you of the stars dotted across the sky. 

He looks up at you and it takes your breath away, just like it always has. The face that gazes at you is a handsome one, despite its relatively new disfigurement. He seems almost unreal, and the way he carries himself has a regal air about it, but his eyes always give him away. You know he is a scared, tortured soul. The dark circles under his eyes narrate his sleepless nights, purple paint strokes of fatigue.
“How are you doing?” you ask. It’s almost a whisper. You can sense that his breath catches and he averts his eyes. Leaning forward, you take his chin in your hand, pulling his face towards you. Tears have welled in his eyes.
“I’m falling apart, (Y/N),” he confesses, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what to do. Supreme Leader said that if I killed Han Solo, I would be free from the pull to the Light. I feel pain and I feel guilt for what I did. The Light beckons me now more than it ever has. This isn’t right.” The tears are flowing freely now and he angrily wipes them away with the back of his hand, his sallow cheeks blossoming red with shame. You purse your lips, getting up from the edge of the tub and letting your robe fall off of your body. You climb into the tub to face him, sinking into the water and shuddering at the cold. How long has he been in there?
You lean forward and take his face in your hands, carefully avoiding the scar. “Maybe it is right, maybe it isn’t,” you begin, speaking slowly and choosing your words carefully as to not upset him further. He often trusted anything you said, but he was known to be unpredictable. “But the pain is killing you, I can see it. I’m scared that you’re not going to leave this battle that’s going on inside of you alive.” Tears start streaming from your eyes now, too. His jaw is clenched and his nostrils flare. “I can’t make you decide anything, because you’re the only one who will know what’s right in the end. But know, Kylo, there is always time to right the wrong. The pull you feel inside of you is there for a reason. You just need to figure it out, and when you do, you’ll be free of this pain.” He inhales shakily, reaching up to touch your neck. You place your hand on top of his, stroking his thumb with yours. “I’ll love you always. No matter what.” He responds to your promise with a gentle kiss, his lips barely grazing yours. You pull him closer, deepening the kiss and he becomes limp in your hands, his exhaustion clear. You let him go and he looks into your eyes, his own now softer. You run your thumb over his bottom lip before letting your hand drop and rest on his thigh.
The small table beside you catches your attention and you admire his neatly folded robes, the black fabric made into a perfect square. You can’t help but smile. His tantrums were wild, terrifying, and downright messy but he always made a point to keep his own things neat. His lightsaber rests on top of the pile and you reach out to touch it with the tip of your middle finger, your lips parting as you study the construction of the handle.
“Look at me.” You obey him and he opens his mouth to say something, but the words get caught. You pull your hand away from the saber and take his, raising your eyebrows to encourage him to speak. He tilts his head, looking at your hands in the water and then back at you. “I love you. I do.” A knowing smile spreads across your face and you climb into his lap, the action creating small waves that lap against the edge of the tub. You wrap your arms around his neck, extremely careful to avoid touching any of his battle scars. His hands rest on your bare lower back as you press a kiss to his lips, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair. He kisses you back hard, and you kiss him one, two, three more times before resting your head in the crook of his neck.
“You’ll do the right thing,” you whisper. “It’ll be okay.”

Lock Down - Part Three

For part one and two click here and here

“Internationally renowned boy band, One Direction, suffered from a shooting at their concert nearly two weeks ago,” the reporter informed as you watched, your back pressing into the arm of your couch as you laid on it. A lump formed in your throat as the woman’s words reminded you of that dreaded day. But you were determined to show no signs of tears. You were so utterly exhausted of crying, and you hated showing that form of emotion. In your mind, crying meant weakness, and you were far from weak.

As you shifted slightly, your face scrunched into a wince, your ribs screaming with pain of your movements. Your mom insisted on you coming home with her, but you wouldn’t have it. Being the grown women you were, you felt that staying in your own apartment was only necessary. Plus, you had a roommate at your beck and call, so it all worked out for the best.

“One injury has been reported, however,” the reporter spoke to the camera, looking down at her notes before speaking your name. “The shooter, who has been identified as Trevor Montgomery, reportedly used the young girl as bait, luring out Harry Styles from his and the other members of One Direction’s hide out. From what was taken with surveillance cameras at the arena, it was apparent Mr. Styles was desperate to get his fan to safety, shielding the injured college student from the shooter.

And after some time, Montgomery was tackled to the ground by Liam Payne, band member of One Direction. And the last thing we are able to see is Paul Higgins, the security guard, cuffing Trevor Montgomery. We haven’t heard any updates of the young girl’s injuries, but we hope she is doing well. Our thoughts are going out to her.”

You hadn’t noticed the acceleration of your breathing until the television was suddenly shut off. Turning around, the best you could, you took in Harry’s form. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at the television, remote in hand.

“You shouldn’t be watching this, love,” he rasped, a pained tone in his voice. You turned back around shrugging, but the action caused pain to shoot up your left side, spreading through your extremities. With a whimper, you closed your eyes, taking deep breaths to rid the pain. Once you opened your eyes, you were able to take in Harry, his form now kneeling beside you. His expression showed nothing but immense worry.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” you breathed as the pain subsided.

“Don’t apologize,” his tone was soft. “I just don’t like seeing you in pain.”

You didn’t respond, merely turning your head away while closing your eyes. Pink tinted the surface of your skin, burning with embarrassment. Even though the pain had subsided, you still felt slightly drained.

“Tired?” Harry’s voice was like a lulling to sleep, deep and soothing.

“Mmm,” was your response.

You faintly heard a chuckle before Harry’s lips pressed lightly to your forehead. “Sleep, love.”


Surprisingly enough, you slept soundly. There were no traces of dreams, or more recently nightmares, while you slept. It wasn’t until two hushed voices sounded that your sound slumber was taken from you. And it wasn’t the voices that woke you up so much, it was the urgency of them.

“I can’t tell her!” The voice was deep, a raspy undertone hiding underneath. Instantly, you knew that voice to be Harry’s. As he spoke, it was obvious he was upset, urging to yell. But with respect towards, what he thought to be, your sleeping state, he remained with a hushed tone.

You and Harry had gotten fairly close over the past two weeks. As soon as you took his offer up, calling him to talk over your shared experience, you and Harry were attached by the hip. He was able to convince management and the boys to take a slight break in tour, postponing some shows in order to stay closer to you. At first, you were skeptical, not wanting Harry’s career to suffer because of you. But as soon as Harry started spending day after day with you, you quickly realized how much you loved his presence and how much you didn’t want him to go away.

“Harry,” a voice hissed in a whisper, and you recognized it as your best friend’s, formally known as your roommate. “She needs to know. Her safety is in danger, dammit.”

With those words, your breath was lost. Lungs screamed at you to provide with the breath they craved, but you couldn’t seem to obtain any. And you knew all too well what this was—a panic attack. The doctor had said these attacks would be quite common considering the trauma you’d been through. And since being home, this was the fifth one.

Tears stung your eyes desperately, your upper body hunched over as your feet touched the floor. The pain from your ribs screamed through your entire body, magnified by your lack of breath. Usually, these attacks only happened at night, after an extreme nightmare. But now, with your safety seeming to be in jeopardy, the attack came full forced.

The voices of Harry and your roommate had stopped, and suddenly, two bodies were rounding to you, eyes wide with worry. Harry was the first one to get to you as you began to wheeze and cough through the attack.

“What’s going on?!” He yelled, dropping his knees in front of you. The question was obviously directed towards your best friend, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “What’s happening?” His voice shook with the emotions of seeing you in this state. He hated it.

“She’s having a panic attack, Harry. She gets them sometimes because of what she’s been through,” your best friend’s voice was slightly calmer, seeing as though she has seen you go through this before. But the underlining of worry didn’t go unnoticed by you. No matter how many times this happened, she still worried of your health and safety. She never liked seeing you in this state.

Harry’s hands cupped around your face, bringing your eyes to look at his. Tears were prominent in his eyes as you continued to struggle for breath, heat searing your lungs. You began shaking, the lack of breath and pain gaining the best of you.

“Hey,” his voice shook as he spoke to you as calmly as he could. “You’re okay, love. Please. Take deep breaths with me, ready? Watch my chest.”

Your eyes fell to Harry’s chest as it moved evenly with each breath he took. With his request, you attempted to mirror his actions, but you came up short, oxygen not finding you.

“Please, baby,” Harry’s voice cracked. “Breath with me. Please just breath.”

His hands moved yours to his chest, and with each breath he took, your hands moved with his chest. And as you felt the thump of his heart, the steady breaths he took, you managed a rather shaky breath. Harry’s eyes lit up slightly as you did it again, your lungs beginning to soothe each time.

“There you go, love. Keep going. Like this.” And he breathed again with you following his actions, steadily gaining stability.

Before long, you had your breath back. Pain, though, still coursed through you body with your hunched form. Pulling your hands from Harry’s chest, you leaned your body back, head falling to the back of couch. Your body was limp.

“I’m going to get you some pain meds,” your best friend murmured before walking into the kitchen.

You were still taking deep breaths in an effort to recover from the attack. Harry sat kneeled by your feet. His head fell in relief allowing for his forehead to rest on the top of your knee.

“Thank you,” you breathed, moving your hand through his curls in appreciation. Harry’s hand moved to catch yours, holding it in his. Moving his head up, he offered you a small smile.

“What are friends for, right?”

Friends. Just friends.

You offered a weak smile. “Right.”

Harry climbed onto the couch next to you, settling on the other cushion over. It was silent for a bit before you spoke.


“Hmm,” he hummed in response as he turned his head to look at you.

“Am I in danger?”

You looked at Harry as his eyebrows furrowed together. His mouth opened to speak, but before the words could be spoken, your best friend rounded into the room, pills and water in hand.

“Here love,” she offered them to you, and you smiled, accepting the medicine and water.

“Thank you.”


A heating was pressed to your left side, the temperature soothing your injured ribs. Your body laid against the headboard of your bed as your legs were outstretched in front of you. The book A Lesson Before Dying was held in your hands. It was about the dozenth time you had read the book, but each time, it awed you. The meaning seemed so powerful to you.

A few knocks on your bedroom door broke you from the 1940s world of the book. Harry’s head soon poked his way through the now partially opened door.

“Hey,” he smiled, showing no teeth. “May I come in for a second?”

Setting your book down, you nodded. “Yeah, come on in.”

Harry nodded, moving through the door before closing it. He shuffled near the entrance for a bit before finally deciding to take a seat at the edge of your bed, opposite of you. As he sat there, his hand rubbed the back of his neck before falling to his lap, and then repeating the action.

You wanted to laugh at how cute he looked—nervous and all. But Harry didn’t get nervous over just anything, and you had the feeling this something was not good.

“Harry, what’s going on?”

Harry’s head fell, a deep sigh falling from his lips. The heel of his hand came up to rub his eyes, and that’s when you noticed how exhausted he looked. His usual chipper, charming facade seemed a bit drug down, replaced with a overly tired Harry.

“You know how you asked if you were in danger?” He asked.

Your heart began to beat steadily faster. “Yes?”

And it was in that moment, as you watched Harry’s face turn nearly pained, you knew the answer before he had to say anything at all.

“You are.”


He was after you. The man that sought out to rid the world of One Direction. The man that put thousands of girls lives in danger. The man that shot you. The man that wanted revenge.

You were under the impression that he was put in custody, possibly going on trial. But you never imagined the prospect of him running around a free man. Or rather, a fugitive on the loose. There were events you missed since you passed out for a good day or two after the shooting. But just after Liam tackled Trevor Montgomery to the ground, you knew Pal had handcuffed him. And that’s when you lost consciousness of your surroundings.

You had thought the shooter would be locked up until the end of time, but he managed to escape from Paul’s grip, finding a hideout in order to escape the police officers’ line of vision. Now, he was in for revenge. And his number one target was you.

The police were desperately in search for him, knowing he was a man who surely was not in the right state of mind. They were certain he was after you. The reason being, you were supposed to lead him to One Direction in order for him to rid the world of world’s most famous band. And you did, yet the boys got away.

Trevor Montgomery blames you for his failure. And he wants revenge.

After Harry explained all of this to you, the only thing you thought to do was cry. And so you did. Despite your utter hatred for the action, you couldn’t help it. You cried as Harry held you in his arms. You cried until you found the relief of sleep, and Harry held you in his arms the entire time.

It’s been a few days since then, and each day, Harry showed up to your apartment. Everyday your best friend went off to her classes, Harry came over to ensure your safety. And if one day Harry couldn’t make it, another one of the boys showed up. But majority of the time, Harry was by your side without fail.

Though today was different. Today, none of the boys could make it to your house for the entirety of the afternoon. Today, your best friend had classes for the better part of the day, as usual. Today, you were all alone.

“I think I should stay home with you,” your best friend spoke as she rushed to pull her hair up in a braid down her back. You sat perched on the bathroom counter, your ribs feeling a bit better than usual.

“Shut up. I’m not an invalid. I’ll be fine,” you rolled your eyes at her incessant worrying.

She looked at you before sighing. “But what if-?”

“Harry will be here in the afternoon. Nobody will come after me during that time. I promise you.”

“Okay, okay,” she took a step closer to you. “Lock the door. Please call me if anything is wrong, and I’ll come right home. And call me once Harry gets here, so I know you’re safe.”

“I will.”

“Okay, good,” she pressed a small kiss to your cheek. “Bye hon. Love ya.”

“Bye, love you too. Have fun in class,” you smiled, watching her walk out of the bathroom.

“Not likely!” She called causing a slight giggle to fall from your lips before you heard the sound of the door closing. And you were all alone.

Hopping off the counter, you felt a slight discomfort in your left side. It wasn’t pain, but it didn’t feel too great. Walking out into the living room, you quickly locked the door before deciding a hot shower may ease your discomfort.

You stripped out of your pajamas once you made it into the bathroom. Turning on the shower, you waited until the temperature was just right before stepping in. Your body felt instantly relaxed as the hot water ran its course down your skin.

Before long, you were fully washed and stepping out of the shower. Your towel clad body ventured across the living room over to your bedroom. But as your fingers ran through your wet hair, there was the noise of a door closing. Your body froze with the supposed noise, ears perking. Though you stood there for a few minutes, you heard no other noise, so you continued walking, chalking it up to paranoia and imagination.

Once you were fully dressed, hair brushed down your shoulders, you walked into the kitchen in search of something to eat. Your upper body was bent over as you looked into the fridge when you hear footsteps.

“You know,” a cynical voice spoke causing your body to jolt up, eyes finding those sinister ones that haunted your dreams. “A locked door doesn’t really keep me out.”

There you stood, eye to eye with your shooter.

Your chest began you pick up its pace as your breaths grew more shallow and shallow, heart thudding against your chest.

“What do you want?” You cringed with the shaky nature of your voice.

He chuckled darkly. “You see, what I want is quite simple. I want you to call your precious Harry, and tell him your in grave danger. I want you to tell Harry you need him here as soon as possible.”

“So you can kill him?” You hissed as tears ran their course down your cheeks.

“Oh no. So I can kill you while he watches. And then I’ll kill him.”


Harry was anxious. His knee would not stop bouncing as he anxiously waited for the recording session to be over. You were the only thing he could think of. Your safety laying prominently in his mind. His thumb was toying with his bottom lip, alternating between chewing the on the skin of his lip and rolling it between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Harry,” Niall’s voice broke through Harry’s stressful thoughts. “Your phone is ringing.”

“Oh,” Harry’s voice sounded rough with stress. “Thanks.”

Harry’s fingers grasped the phone that was perched on his lap, seeing your name flashing across the screen. A breath of relief was drawn out before Harry answered the call.

“Hey love,” he sighed. “I’m glad you called. I was beginning to worry about you.”

“H-Harry,” you cried, and Harry’s body froze with the sound of your distressed voice. “Harry, please don’t come.”

“Tell him!” A voice screamed before a pained scream left your lips, and Harry bolted from his seat, yelling your name into the phone.

“Harry,” you sobbed. “Harry, he’s here. He found me.”

“Where are you?” Harry demanded, exiting the recording booth, ignoring the five set of eyes on him and the calling of his name.

“No!” You yelled. “Don’t come, he’ll—” Another pained scream erupted from your lips causing Harry’s heart race to pick up, frantic to get to you.

“Love, listen to me—”

“Hello Harry Styles,” a dark voice sounded on the other line, and instantly, Harry knew the guy to be Trevor Montgomery, formerly known as the man who consistently tried to take One Direction’s lives.

“Where do you have her?” Harry hissed into the phone.

“Why, we’re just hanging out in her apartment. Aren’t we, baby?” He voiced, and Harry heard you whimper almost as if he was touching you.

“Do not lay a finger on her!” Harry yelled aggressively. “I swear to God if you hurt her in any way, I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll make a deal with you, Popstar. If you’re not here in the thirty minutes, say goodbye to your girl.”

“Harry, no!” You yelled.

“Shut up!” He screamed. “What do you say, Styles?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t hurt her.”


“Stop crying!” Trevor yelled from the couch, gun resting in his lap, as you sat scrunched in the corner of the living room, sobs falling from your lips at an unstoppable rate.

“S-sorry,” your breath hitched as you attempted to reign in your emotions. That’s when you heard a door open, Harry’s form walking swiftly into the room.

“Where is she?” His voice bounded off the walls.

“H-Harry,” you whispered, and his attention was on you instantly as he walked over to you, dropping in front of you. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“I couldn’t let you get hurt,” Harry’s hands cradled your face, eyes scanning your face. His thumb lightly ran over the welt forming on your cheek. “He hit you.”

You nodded, tears falling from your eyes. “He got mad that I tried to tell you not to come.”

“I’m so sorry, love,” he dropped his forehead to yours. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’ll be safe.”

Your bottom lip quivered. “I don’t want to be safe if that means you’re not.”

“Enough!” A voice boomed through the entirety of the apartment.

Harry whirled around, body shielding yours. “Don’t hurt her,” he commanded instantly. Your hands moved to grip the black t-shirt covering his upper half.

“Step away from her,” Trevor commanded.

“Harry,” you whimpered, tightening your grip.

“I said, get away from her!” Trevor screamed, aggressively pointing the gun in your direction. In an instant, Harry bolted to his feet, hands raised in the air.

“Okay, okay.”

Your grip on his shirt was lost as he walked further and further away from you. Your heart ached the more Harry walked away from you.

“Listen, Trevor. It’s me you want. Leave her out of this,” Harry reasoned calmly.

“Harry stop!”

“Nice try, Styles. I want you to suffer, and it’s obvious you have feelings for this girl,” your heartbeat quickened. “So watching her die will be the ultimate pain.”

“Please,” Harry’s voice cracked. “Don’t hurt her.”

“Move out of my way.”

Just as Trevor began advancing towards you, the door was thrown open, a group of police officer’s barged in, Paul trailing behind them.

“Hands in the air!” The policeman in the front yelled, arms outstretched with his gun in hand. “Freeze!”

In an instant, an arm wrapped around your side, viciously tugging you to your feet. A scream of pain echoed off the walls as it was wrenched from your throat. Pain coursing through your body as Trevor’s arm tugged you up by your left side. The metal tip of the gun could be felt as it pressed to your temple, sobs tumbling from your lips constantly.

“Come any closer, and I’ll kill her,” Trevor hissed. Your eyes were wide with tears falling as they found Harry. He looked frantic, terrified of what was to come of you.

“Trevor, let her go,” Harry spoke calmly, advancing slightly towards.

“I said DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” He screamed, and Harry froze immediately. The tip of the gun pressed further into your temple causing another sob to erupt. Tugging you tighter to him, pain seared your body with Trevor’s grip.

“Let her go,” a police officer commanded, gun ready.

“Harry,” you cried.

“Come on, Trevor. Do you really want her life on your hands? Do you really want to end her life?” Harry pleaded desperately.

“I just wanted you to suffer. I was so angry.”

“I know,” Harry spoke calmly. “I know, but does that really mean things have to go to this length? She hasn’t done anything to you. Let her go, man.”

And then the vice grip on you was dropped, your ribs screamed in relief as Harry ran to you, collecting your body in his arms. You clung to him desperately as the police worked to have Trevor cuffed and escorted from the apartment. And once he was gone, your body sagged with relief, sobbing into Harry’s chest.

“Shh, he’s gone. You’re safe,” Harry murmured into your hair. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you, Harry,” you whispered once your emotions were reigned in, lifting your head slightly to look up at him.

“Thank Paul. He found us,” his fingers moved to gently swipe a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, after you told me to come you here with a police squad, Styles,” Paul spoke from across the room.

“Why don’t you go to make sure everything’s okay, Paul?” Harry spoke between clenched teeth.

“Right.” Paul walked out of the apartment, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with Harry.

“Sorry about P-” You didn’t let him finish. Instead, your lips found his. Harry tensed with surprise before melting into you, lips moving with yours. Your body buzzed with Harry pressed to you so intimately. Hands buried within his curls as he clung to you, as if he was scared to let you go. Before long, Harry pulled away, resting his forehead on yours.

“What was that for?” His breath was ragged, voice raspy, from the kiss.

“For always being my hero.”

“I love being your hero.”


Here it is! Sorry it took so long to get posted. So much was going on today. Thank you to everyone who requested a 3rd part! Hope you all liked it! Thank you for reading!

Leave any feedback here

Lots of love. 

Joy xx.