dark 1d

We should have seen this and we should have known.

We should have known this baby 16 year-old boy with the giant slow-blinking doe eyes and perfectly dimpled smile would be too powerful.

We were all under his spell. His dark magic charm of incandescent beauty. His siren song of torture.

AND NOW WE HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS:

THIS IS OUR FAULT. WE LET HIS POWERS RUN WILD. HE’S TOO POWERFUL.

AVAST, SATAN. TAKE THE ANGEL BACK TO HELL.

Dark Times (Part Two)

Here it is!! The long await part two to my 1920’s fic! I hope you all like it! xx B

It was the clicking of typewriter keys that woke you. Your neck ached from how you’d slept on the leather couch, and your hair was a tangled mess in your eyes as you slowly sat up. There was a pleasant soreness between your legs, and you flushed as you saw the reason. Harry was sat behind his desk, a cigarette hanging limply from his pouty, pink lips as he typed away. Black suspenders braced his shoulders and his stark white shirt sleeves were rolled up to reveal various tattoos splattered across his forearms. A stray curl fell against his forehead, and you met his eyes as he glanced up at you, having heard the shuffle of your fringed dress against the couch. Harry said nothing for a minute, standing from his chair and lighting up another cigarette as he began to shuffle through some papers on his desk.

“Yeh know,” he started, smoke curling prettily around his lips as he exhaled, “I don’t remember telling yeh it was alright for yeh to sleep on m’couch. Thought I said to collect yehself and then get the fuck out.” A dark eyebrow raised towards his hairline as he took the cigarette from his mouth. Harry leaned forward, one large hand bracing the desk and the other pointing at you, the cigarette butt glowing dimly between his fingers. “But, since yeh here, you’re goin’ to a party with m’ tonight. Leave yeh address with Arthur at the bar. I’ll pick yeh up around seven. Be ready.” You furrowed your brow at him, mouth curling in confusion.

“And if I don’t want to go?” A low chuckle left Harry’s throat. You held his gaze as he slowly sank back to sit in his chair. A small, amused smile pulled at his lips as his green eyes travelled over you. Your body stiffened; that was the stare of a predator.

“Yeh seem to think Miss—” Harry cut off, waving a hand to you for your name. You quietly replied, and his eyes sparkled in the dim light. “That I’m giving yeh a choice. Yeh will attend the party with me tonight, and yeh’ll wear a bloody smile the whole fuckin’ time, right? Yeh’ll smile, and hang off m’arm like a proper fuckin’ bird. Yeh understand? Wear somethin’ nice. Get out.” Then Harry was back to puffing away on the cigarette, tapping away on the typewriter. You sat for a moment longer, mouth parted. Harry rolled his eyes. “I said, get the fuck out!” The loud tone of his voice shocked you into action, sending you scrambling towards the door.
“See yeh tonight, pet. Look pretty fo’ me.” You simply nodded, quickly slamming the door shut behind you before stumbling out of the club.

True to his word, Harry was at your door six hours later, a bored look on his handsome face as you shuffled with your keys to lock your door. He didn’t say a word as you linked your arm with his, but an approving smirk tugged at his lips when he moved his eyes down your body. You’d put on your most expensive dress, a tan fabric that fell to your knees, large teardrop plastic jewels’ placed all over it. The dress was the opposite of the flashy, short party outfit you’d worn the night before, but it was feminine and hugged your body in all the right places, perfect for the night’s upcoming activities. Harry held open the door for you while he lit up a cigarette, fingers pushing a stray curl back into place. His green eyes were hooded, his jaw firmly set as he climbed in the driver’s side.
“‘S a nice dress. Shame it’ll end up on the floor later.” You blushed at his forwardness, a flicker of indignation sparking at the notion that he thought you’d end up in his bed. However, the spark died out when his large hand came to rest on your knee, rings cool against your skin. You swallowed.
“Mr. Styles–” you began.
“Harry.”

“Where exactly are we going?” Harry’s eyes flitted over to you as he cleared his throat.
“It’s a business meetin’ fo’ me. It’ll be a party until I see I’m needed, then you’ll come out t’ the car like a good girl, yeah? Yeh to pretty t’ get blood on.” Your body tensed at his words, a sinking feeling settling in your belly. “Don’ look so worried, pet, it’ll be quick. Yeh won’t see anythin’, and after I’ll take yeh back home and it’ll be fine. Just wanted some good company before m’ night gets ruined.” His fingers had moved slowly up your thigh, now toying with the fabric. Flashes from last night’s activities ran through your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to stamp down the lust clouding your thoughts. Harry didn’t say another word until he brought the car to a stop outside a large building that thrummed with loud music. Laughter floated on the cool breeze, and you could see couples dancing through the foggy windows. Harry’s arm circled your waist.

“Yeh gotta listen t’ me, a’right? Yeh don’ leave m’ sight. If yeh need somethin’, tell me. When I tell yeh t’ go wait in the car, go wait in the bloody car. I won’ have yeh fuck up m’ business meetin’ because yeh think yeh entitled t’ be there. Now, put on a fuckin’ smile an’ let’s go dance.” A cloud of smoke rolled over you as Harry pushed open the doors, his face settling into a cold scowl, his brows drawn together and his jade eyes going dark. He was complete business now, moving smoothly through the parting crowd as partygoers shrunk away from him. Harry’s reputation more than preceded him. He was a god among men when it came to work.

“Styles!” A booming voice echoed over the band playing in the corner, and an amused glint caught Harry’s eyes. His hand slid tighter around your waist, his nose brushing the shell of your ear.
“My partner, Tommy. Be a lamb and keep that pretty mouth o’ yours shut.” You didn’t respond, angry with yourself for letting him boss you around so easily. But your anger didn’t matter, seeing how tightly you pursed your lips as a plump man waddled over to Harry. He was older, with a receding hairline and pink, puffed out cheeks, his blue eyes alive with mischief. He looked you over quickly, lips tugging into a knowing smirk. “What a lovely piece you have on your arm tonight. Hello, my dear.” His breath came out in pants as he winked at you, and Harry grunted as he shifted so you were further from Tommy.

“Are they here yet? ‘Ve got places t’ be, don’ have time fo’ waiting around like a dog.” Harry grumbled, cold eyes sweeping the room. He was solid against you, the tension rolling off of him almost tangible. Cautiously, you raised your hand to squeeze his long fingers soothingly. He briefly glanced down at you as Tommy rambled about his men being stationed at every possible entrance to the party. You scooted closer to Harry’s side, an uneasy feeling gripping your stomach as he still stood braced for something. His partner had turned and began to chat to a brunette who couldn’t be older than seventeen, and Harry took the opportunity to lean in close.
“Wha’s wrong with yeh? Bein’ all touchy all of a sudden.” A smirk pulled at his lips, his eyes a little brighter now, although his shoulders were still squared.

“You’re making me nervous being so tense. You forget I have no clue what all could happen tonight, thanks to you.” Harry’s brow quirked.
“Careful, angel, best t’ keep tha’ tongue o’ yours sweet, or I might ‘ave t’ take yeh t’ the bathroom.” A dark, sensual promise swirled in his eyes, and chills raised over your arms. You tried to ignore the wetness now pooling between your legs.
“Wouldn’t want to miss you business meeting, now would we?” You met his burning gaze, fingers toying with the jewels on your dress. Harry was quick to nip at your ear, a low growl rumbling through his chest.

“Yeh get two minutes. Then I’m takin’ yeh away an’ showin’ yeh how I feel abou’ missin’ business meetings.” The two minutes before you slipped away from the crowd felt like a lifetime, but the minute you eased open the bathroom door, Harry was yanking you inside. Crowding you against the door, his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, sliding over your hips. A delicious moan came from his throat as his palms found the uncovered skin off your bum, his fingers squeezing and kneading your flesh as you whined.
“S'naughty, darling, coming here with no knickers…” His teeth closer around your earlobe, his hips rutting into yours hastily. “And yeh wet, too? Guess I’ll have t'help yeh out, hm? Want me to fuck yeh and make yeh feel good?” Your head lolled against the wooden door, pleas coming from your lips as you nodded deftly. A low chuckle fell to your ears as Harry carried you to the sink, rucking your dress up around your hips when he set you against the cool marble. He was quick to shove his pants and undershorts down enough for his cock to spring free, and your mouth watered at the sight of him, his tip weepy and flushed. Harry roughly pulled you to the edge of the counter, his lips finding yours as he ran his cock teasingly along your drenching slit. “Been hard since yeh walked ou’ in tha’ dress.”

“Please, Harry.” A pretty smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he thrusted shallowly, just enough to that the bulb of his head eased into you. Your gasp was swallowed as Harry licked into your mouth, hips rolling to shift more of him into you. A thin film of sweat was already beading on his forehead, and your thighs were already shaking when Harry fully sheathed himself inside of you.
“Oh, sweetheart, takin’ me so well.” Your answer was a barely muffled moan, your eyes screwed tightly shut. Then his hips began to move. His cock brushed wonderfully against every nerve, the thick vein that ran along his underside pulsing as his hand came to tangle in your hair.
“You’re so big,” you groaned, legs clenching tighter around Harry’s hips as he moved faster, his free hand coming to grab at your thigh as he fucked into you. His forearm slid under your leg, shifting you enough so you could take him deeper, better. A cry came from your lips at the new position, his cock hitting a spot that had you wishing he would always be inside of you. Harry’s lips moved along your throat, his tongue darting out to lap at your skin every now and then. Your moans increased, and Harry smiled against your skin.


“Shhhhh, angel, yeh gotta be quiet. Don’t want anyone to hear how naughty yeh are, do we?” His hand slid down from your hair to cover your mouth, muffling your broken moans as his hips rolled into you faster. A tight coil of heat curled in your belly, and you gasped as you slid a hand down between your bodies, your fingers immediately finding your clit and circling it. You felt as if you were going to burst from how well Harry was fucking you, his own little moans and grunts like music to your ears. Tears threatened to spill over the rims of your eyes when the tip of his cock hit your g-spot repeatedly. The rings on Harry’s fingers were cool against your burning skin, and your hand slapped against his forearm as you barreled towards your orgasm. Harry grunted as your walls clenched around him,
“Yeh close, pet? Come on, cum fo’ me.” Your leg went around his waist again as his hand that wasn’t covering your mouth went to your clit in place of yours, quickly rubbing tight circles around it in desperation to feel you cum. It didn’t take long for you to let out a muffled scream into his palm, legs locking around his waist as your back sagged against the mirror. Harry’s hand fell from your mouth as you came down from your high, your hands going to his hair.


“C'mon, wanna feel you,” you purred into his ear, tightening your cunt around him as he moaned into your neck. Then he was spent, thick ropes of hot cum painting your walls as his hips stuttered. You sat on the cool counter for a moment, your hand running over his strong back as he struggled to catch his breath. Harry had only just helped you down from the countertop when the first screams started.
“Bloody–fuck!” He hurried to fish a small pistol out of his waistcoat pocket, tugging up his trousers as he threw the door open. Loud pops sounded through the building, people rushing towards the doors as glass shattered from bullets. You scrambled after Harry, your heels slipping on the floors. He was halfway down the hall already, suspended straps falling loosely at his hips as he loaded his gun. Harry didn’t once turn back to make sure you were behind him, but he made sure to bark commands out anyways.

“Get to the fuckin’ car! Go! Don’ stop till yeh get there, a’right? Wait there fo’ me.” By that time, he’d turned the corner and began firing off bullets, unblinking as men fell before him. Horror struck through your body at the sight of so much blood already covering the walls, countless bodies littering the floor. Before you took a step towards the door, you were yanked back into a body, the cool metal of a gun pressed into your temple.
“Go on, sweetheart, call him. Make one move to get away, and you’re dead.” Your heart thundered as you let out a broken sob of Harry’s name.
“I fuckin’ told yeh to go to the damn–” Now only Tommy and Harry stood, Tommy’s eyes wide as he watched Harry turn towards you. You expected him to point the pistol towards your captor, to yell, to try to get you out of it somehow.

Instead, a sly grin took over his lips, a cool laugh tumbling out of him. Harry pointed the gun at the nearest man and pulled the trigger, not flinching as his body hit the ground.
“Yeh think I fuckin’ care about some bird? Mate, she’s just good at takin’ cock. Go on, kill her. Probably gets too attached anyhow,” Harry spat, and another cry racked through your body. “I want my fuckin’ money, Trevors. Yeh sacked m’ shipment, and I want my reimbursement. I won’ ask again.” The man behind you barked out a laugh, the barrel prodding further into your temple.

“You’re mental if you think I’m paying you shit. Get better guys to transport your goods, then you won’t lose precious alcohol. Put the gun down, Styles, it’s you and one partner against me and my guys. You’re not getting out of this.” The gun clicked loudly in your ear as Trevors cocked it. “And, even if you don’t care about such a beautiful girl, she knows who I am now. She’s gotta go.” Your body shook in fear, eyes blurry with tears as you squirmed in the man’s hold. Harry’s eyes were bored as he watched you. He wasn’t doing anything, why wasn’t he doing anything?

“Harry, please,” you sobbed, trying to steady your breathing. Your stomach was in knots, your heart in your throats as Harry tilted his head to the side. Now he only looked at Trevors.
“Last chance, mate. Give me my fuckin’ money.” His gun raised back up to the man behind you. Trevors’ grip on your throat was tight enough to cut off your oxygen, and you gasped as he let out a snarl and put his finger on the trigger.

“Like hell I will.” Harry blinked, jaw ticking in anger.
“Wrong answer.” He spun on his heel, a bullet going through Tommy’s head. His body fell with a thump and the breath was sucked from your lungs. Harry had ruthlessly shot down his partner, who he’d known for who knows how long. You’d known him less than a day, and the realization that you were expendable to him sunk in with a hot surge of terror. He was really going to let his enemy kill you.
Trevors’ grip loosened and the gun fell from your temple in disbelief, giving you the room you needed to kick yourself away from him. You were barely out of his arms when another gunshot rang out, and something was falling onto your back. A scream fell from your lips as you caught sight of Trevors’ dead eyes, and you scrambled to push him off. Large warm hands were on your wrists, tugging you up. “Hey, hey, ‘s me, ‘s just me!” Harry soothed, his green eyes on yours. Sobbing still, you shoved him away, tears blinding you.

“What the fuck are you playing at? You were going to let him kill me! You-You killed your partner!” Harry was quick to pull you back in, tucking your head into his shoulder.
“You’re fine! Aren’t yeh? Still alive? I wasn’t gonna let yeh die, a’right? I promise.” You’d stopped fighting, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt as you cried. “I wouldn’t let tha’ happen, pet, promise. C’mon now, help m’ out.” Harry was careful as he lifted you into his arms, silently stepping over Trevors. “‘M takin’ yeh home, angel.” His fingers were tender as they brushed over your cheek. You didn’t make a sound as Harry lowered you into the car, pulling out his handkerchief to wipe away your tears. The ride back to your apartment was deathly quiet, and your fingers shook until you managed to doze off against the window. You were barely aware of Harry carrying you to your room. He shuffled around in your apartment for a few more moments after laying you down, and was gone without a word.

anonymous asked:

Could you write something where some guy keeps harassing y/n at the bar or club (like touching her or and stuff) while Harry's in the bathroom and Harry comes out he just gets so protective of her and isn't having any of it

:) 

Keep reading

when u realize each member of 1d is such an inextricable part of each other’s pasts that they’ll almost definitely make music about what it was like growing up together in the band someday 

Writer In The Dark | 2

1- https://pendantstyles.tumblr.com/post/162458767346/writer-in-the-dark

//

“I did not propose out of impulse!”

“Then marry her.”

Niall crossed his arms across his chest, a hard look directed to Harry who’s basically losing his shit, a coffee table book already being thrown across his living room.

He gripped his hair tightly on how Niall just couldn’t understand his point of view, stomping his feet on the floor like a child on a tantrum.

“You don’t fucking understand! Do I have to tell what happened again? Y/N told me that she loves me!”

Niall breathed deeply, jaw clenching as he felt that this conversation has been repeated atleast five times for the past hour, Harry being hard-headed to not realize the point of what his friend’s saying.

“You proposed because?”

“I proposed!” Harry let out a blunt look, flailing his arms around as he kicked the coffee table.

“You’ve been with her for two months. Do you know her enough to be your wife?”

“I proposed because she’s the one! ’S not about the months! ’S not about knowing every goddamn thing about her! ’S the purpose of marriage, to know-…”

Niall groaned, throwing his head back as he felt another book being thrown across the floor.

“You have a point but you don’t get mine!”

“Well you don’t-…” Harry’s anger was getting the best of him, his blood boiling to the point where every word he said was default to be yelled at.

“If you love the girl your proposed to, then fucking marry her!”

Harry silenced. He didn’t go quiet because of the fact that Niall’s yell topped his and that he cussed him out, no. He didn’t go quiet because of the fact that his throat hurt from yelling, of course no, he could do this for days, over and over again.

But no. Harry silenced because of what Niall said. It was so goddamned simple. He didn’t get the point of fighting it because he knew that it was right.

“Everything was going right for you until Y/N admitted it. If you’re not so fussed over it, then what the hell’s stopping you from marrying her?”

He teared up for the first time for what felt like months, blindly reaching for the couch and sitting on it slowly as his realization did on him.

“What’s stopping me?”

He mumbled in the midst of his cries, it was barely comprehendable but Niall understood. Harry said it in a way that he’s almost ashamed that he’s being stopped by something he doesn’t know.

He genuinely doesn’t know what.

“Pride? Dignity? Y/N?”

He asked weakly, slowly speaking each word out as if doing so would soothe the immense pain he’s feeling.

“All I know is that Y/N’s definitely not stopping you.”

Harry tried to keep his cries and sobs silent but he couldn’t, he couldn’t mask what he’s feeling. He could see right through himself but he didn’t want that right now.

He’s afraid to see himself broken. He remembered that his mum taught him to be strong. But he knew that she didn’t say anything about being broken is wrong either.

And it hurts more now because he knows that he broke you too.

“Would it be wrong to say that it’s myself?”

He whispered, pursing his lips until they felt numb, tears pouring endlessly that his face felt warm from them.

Harry tried to shrug the thoughts away, writhing away from the truths he faced with but no matter how much he did, even if Niall tried to hold him still but failed, he couldn’t.

It won’t leave him.

“Why did I not notice it from the beginning?”

He sobbed much more loudly know, his words passing as audible as he slammed his fists on his couch, throwing his head back on the cushions repeatedly.

“Why didn’t I love her earlier?”

His question struck him, even much more to himself even though he didn’t intend it to be, he doesn’t even know to whom is it directed originally.

Harry’s pride and dignity ran thin.

He’s coming down.

He pulled every string he has, coming to the point in where he did it himself.

He cancelled everything. The engagement, the trip to her and his parents, the call that’s about to be made to the church. Everything that he thought was right was now wrong.

Harry thought he’s right but he was far from it. He thought everything was complete but it isn’t.

He gathered the last bit of his right mind with him, leaving at an abrupt speed that left Niall in confusion and in pride.

He used his key, finding no point in rehearsing the words to say because he didn’t know what either.

But he then knew that there was a thin line between impulse and passion and he hated it that he only realized it when he’s inside of your house.

That he realized only when he experienced it, not when it was all in him from the start.

So he hugged you tight, crying into your shoulder with a grip that didn’t want anything between the two of you, his mind being blank.

He found himself whispering words again, he wanted to get over of the habit of it but he couldn’t.

“Tell me you love me, even if you don’t anymore. Please, tell me that you love me.”

He was whole-heartedly pleading and begging right then and there until he felt a hand on his shoulder, a weak voice underneath him.

He’s going insane but he knew that it wasn’t his mind nor his sub-conscious.

It was real and maybe it was the only thing he’s sure of on that second.

“I can’t bring myself to stop, Harry.”