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#mafia harry
jarofstyles · 2 months
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Lush
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Hello my ducklings! Since we have been getting a lot of questions about our Patreon and what is included, we decided to give you guys peeks into the series we have exclusively on there. This is Lush, escort y/n x dark businessman H. There will be some twists and turns in this one, hot smut, a fake relationship and a possessive and slightly obsessive dark H- our favorite. This series will only be on Patreon but this is the first part to give you a taste!
Check out our Patreon for access to Lush and our other exclusive series + 100+ exclusive writings.
Warnings- escorting, mention of homelessness and money struggles, daddy kink etc
WC- 2.9k
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Y/N knew her job, and she did it well.
Sit still, look pretty. Perched on her favorite client’s lap, his strong thigh covered in a trouser that matched the blazer that probably cost more than she’d made in the last 3 months, she sipped her champagne quietly and ‘let the men talk.’
Harry Styles was an enigma. He had popped up a few weeks ago, bringing her to a dinner after a debriefing in a lux hotel in one of the bigger hotels on the Vegas strip. The window had overlooked it all, a penthouse that seemed to be used quite frequently considering the fridge had been stocked and he had socks stuffed in a drawer that she’d used later that night.
“I need you to sit on my lap, keep me company.” He had said plainly. The man was intimidating. Broad and tall, soft brown hair swept back and off his forehead. Stubble shadowing his face and over his lip, his features were sharp and his eyes a little harsh, but she could whole heartedly admit that he was the most attractive client she’d ever had. Being a year in after escaping a situation that was still haunting her nightmares, she had been eager to accept the higher paying and well vetted job she had, thank god, stumbled into. It wasn’t conventional, no, but nothing really was in Vegas.
“I can do that.” She replied, hands folded in her lap. He stood before her as she had sat on the couch, looking up at him as he spoke. “Is that all we’re doing in our time together?” To put it in a nicer way of asking. She could have bluntly asked if he was going to want sex, but she did try to at least have a little decorum- until the situation granted the freedom of it. It wasn’t uncommon for her and she was safe, tested, and generally did enjoy sex- but it was a job. This time, however, would probably be enjoyed more than she had in the past. A real attraction to the man would be helpful in many parts of making this more enjoyable.
“Who said that?” He rose a brow, looking down at her. It was a smoldering look but she couldn’t find it in herself to look away as he got closer and tilted her chin up. “I intend to take everything you’ll offer. I’d suggest canceling your plans for tomorrow.” She didn’t have to ask why. It was clear this man intended to fuck her, and fuck her well.
Spoiler- he did.  Harry had, for all intents and purposes, rocked her shit. So when she found his name on her books twice the next week, she hadn’t complained. She’d been excited, actually, considering she’d been able to feel the sting of her ass when she’d sat in the Lyft the next morning to take her to her apartment. Another good thing about him, she found as she looked in her purse, was that he tipped extremely well. More than was deserved, if she was being honest, but the one time the girl brought it up he had shoved another hundred dollar bill into the waistband of her sleep shorts and sent her on her way.
It had become known to her that he specifically requested her. If she wasn’t available, he’d offer more money than the other client was paying- and her Madam had no problem with that, considering it upped her cut. She found herself with him 3 times this week, frequenting clubs and drowning out business talk as his large hand splayed across her waist and the other hand held a sweaty amber colored liquor on the rocks. Much to many of her friends and client’s surprise, Y/N didn’t drink much. She stuck to lighter things, champagne and rosé, and kept to a one to two drink maximum. She preferred keeping a clear head when on the job and honestly? Drinking wasn’t her thing. A buzz was nice, but anything past that meant a headache in the morning. She wasn’t a morning person to begin with.
This meeting was going past its normal time, making her wonder what was being said. If she was being frank- Y/N didn’t do much listening in his meetings. It felt like they were talking in code, another language, and she couldn’t be assed to listen about imports and exports and blah, blah, blah. Her brain was happy to sit and be warm on a handsome man’s lap, observing the dance floor. Dancing used to be so fun, something she’d always loved to do as a child. Now she didn’t get to do as much, even though she’d wished she could. Club dancing was far different than her normal type but if she was on the balcony of the most VIP of the VIP sections, she was going to take her people watching to the next level.
“Y’alright?” His raspy voice breathed over her ear, not taking his eyes off the men who were talking amongst themselves. “I know it’s late. We can go back soon.” While Harry wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person, he did respect her time. He was a little scary, truthfully, and she didn’t want to upset him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. He was respectful and kind to her, he spoiled her with tips and orgasms, and she had no complaints. If staying out a bit later than he had said was the least of her worries besides his scowling, she was golden.
“I’m okay.” She smiled. “People watching. Sorry, I’m not paying attention. Dunno what half of the stuff you’re talking about means.”
Y/N had no reality of what he did. No clue. She was too afraid to google him. To ruin the illusion she had of him in her head. He passed the background test and signed the heavy contract that came with hiring her, so he wasn’t about to harm her or anything- and from what she’s learned in Vegas, sometimes you’re better off not knowing. There was a lot of shady business practices that went on. It was legitimately upset her if he was a bad person outside of the law, so she decided not to go searching for answers she possibly didn’t want to find.
“That’s good.” He murmured, pressing a private kiss underneath her ear. “Don’t worry about it. S’nothing interesting anyways. Got t’keep up appearances.” His voice dropped. “Would much rather be between your thighs. Missed this body while I was away.”
And, Oh. It made her hot, a nervous giggle leaving her throat as the words tickled against her ear. Harry had gone away on a business trip, he’d prefaced it because he had been gone 4 day. He’d prescheduled to meet her on the day he came back. Her stomach did a swoop in her body as the cool hand that held his glass deposited it on the table, finding her thigh and squeezing over it. “You did?”
She had to wonder if he was buttering her up, but the thought was dispelled because Harry didn’t need to do that. He had always been a bit blunt and she liked that about him. Less sweet talk that he didn’t mean. What he said made sense- complimenting her body and her mouth and appearance, what she did for him, but he never went too far and said things he didn’t mean. So she believed him when he nodded, slipping his hand further up her dress and making her swallow thickly. He’d given her pretty lingerie he’d bought from wherever he went, the buttery silk laying against her body under the dress that hugged her figure. Red, he said, because she was a little devil between the sheets. “I did. Got t’bring you with me next time.”
Some girls did that. Y/N wasn’t even sure what the rate would be for a trip, but the idea appealed to her. “You sure you can afford it?” She whispered back, a playful tilt to her lips. Obviously he could. He was by far the wealthiest man she had in her books, evident by the liquor he ordered, the watches he wore and the cars the drove in. It was arousing to her, if she was being honest. When she settled down one day, the one thing she really wanted was financial stability. Maybe that sounded shallow, but with her history with no money and being a little jaded, it made sense to her.
“Can afford that, and a shopping spree for you while I do business.” He brushed his cool fingertips against her slightly damp panties. Harry didn’t smile often, but when he did? It was a smirk. A hot, arrogant little smirk that she should probably be annoyed by, but wasn’t. “Need to get you out of here, though. Have something I want to talk to you about before I sink you down on my cock.” His fingers retreated after a gentle brush to find them wet, moving to her leg as he began to wrap up the meeting. People would listen, even if they weren’t finished- he just had that way about him.
—--
Y/N had no clue what, exactly, he wanted to talk to her about. They’d had some nice conversations so far about a plethora of things. Movies, books, restaurants, some morals. But it wasn’t too deep. Both of them had seen it for what it was, even if they had impeccable sexual chemistry. She didn’t know the man all that well, only what was told to her and what he had divulged- and knowing the man had a sweet tooth didn’t account for much. So it was slightly intimidating when he asked her to meet him in the living room of the suite as he put away his watch and jacket.
What could he possibly have to talk to her about? Her brain was coming up with nothing.
“C’mere.” He sat himself down on the couch, offering his lap back up to her. It wasn’t something she did in private unless his hands were down her panties or she was riding him, but she decided to go for it. Her heels kicked off to the side, she sat herself back in the familiar way. It had taken her off guard, but his hand took her own and she watched as he flipped it over, thumbing over her ring finger. “I need to ask you a favor. A proposition.” He murmured, calculating eyes going back to her face. “And you can say no, if you want. I’ll understand.” Of course, this made her alarm bells ring but there was little time to panic. Considering he was a very get to the point man, he did exactly that. “I’d like for you to quit your current job and pretend to be my fiance.”
The bomb was dropped. Why, exactly, a man of his caliber needed a fake fiance? She had not a fucking clue. Harry continued, her face slack in shock. He took that into account, it seemed. “I like you. You’re polite, know how to behave in public. Gorgeous little thing. You’re intelligent, you’re quick, and you understand how to keep to yourself. That’s a very valuable thing to me.” His thumb resumed rubbing her ring finger. “We have incredible sex. You fulfill and exceed my needs, and I’m satisfied with sex for once in my life.” Y/N let him do whatever he wanted and thoroughly enjoyed it. There was no faking it with them. Their chemistry crackled in the air when it shifted. There was no doubting that. “My family has been pressuring me to settle down. I have no time to properly date, nor the desire to.” He sure as fuck wasn’t the type to go on dating apps, and the dating pool he was around was a lot of vapid people with money hungry libidos. At least he would know Y/N was there for money and there would be no confusion between them. “I enjoy your company. It isn’t traditional nor conventional, but I’d provide for you. I will deposit your average monthly income in your own bank account and give you a card to my own. I’d pay for your rent while you stay with me, and you’d have free time to do as you please. Whatever hobbies you’d like. Horse riding, art, reading, I don’t care what it is if you like it.”
Her head was swimming. What the fuck? She’d heard of men falling in love with escorts, sure, but this seemed… More transactional. For some reason, it made her feel a little more comfortable. He wasn’t proclaiming love after barely knowing her. He knew how it went and that she needed to be provided for. “Like a sugar baby?” She blurted out.
“Not particularly. My fiance in title. You’ve been introduced as my girl to everyone already, so it isn’t a difficult sell to anyone but my family. We’d announce our engagement, I’ll bring you to London to meet them, let it run it’s course.” His eyes bore into hers. “I don’t want you with anyone else while you’re mine. I’ll be the only one you sleep with, and vice versa. I don’t want you to split your time between me and anyone else. I’m asking for devotion, which is a lot. But I’d like it to be you.”
“Why?” Y/N knew he had explained it but it was still confusing. “I know what you’ve said but… surely theres other people that you’d want to ask? I’m just an escort you’ve been seeing for a little while. I mean.. The sex is great, don’t get me wrong.” And she was extremely attracted to him and his energy, but… “I’m not in my escort mode all the time. I don’t want to be working 24/7. I’m not as docile while off the clock.” She wasn’t about to get put into 24/7 smile and nod territory. It was fine when it was an outing, or even a night, but she did have a personality she quite liked outside of it.
“I wouldn’t expect you to be agreeable all the time. In fact, I’d like to see you fight me a little.” Harry’s smirk returned. “Makes the sex hotter. But…” he returned to his business face. “I chose you because we get along. I don’t like a lot of people. I may pretend I do, but it’s difficult for me to find people who don’t make me irritated. You’re… interesting to me.” It wasn’t the answer she expected, no, but still. She had more questions.
“So what about after it’s all done and over with? I’ll end up on the streets, homeless again because I know Madam isn’t going to just let me back on her lists.” She crossed her arms, not realizing what she’d said. Harry caught it, pocketing it for later. It didn’t sit right that she had been on the streets at all, but that wasn’t a topic he could broach right now. He didn’t have the right to ask yet.
“I will make sure you’re set after this is done.” He promised. “I will have all of your expenses covered while you’re with me. Nails, hair, food, clothing, hobbies. You’ll be making your pay and then some every week and not touching it. And if it ends early, I will payout an extra mil. Does that sound reasonable?” He rose an eyebrow. “I’ve got the paperwork with me, but you can sit on it if you want.”
“How long can I sit on it for?” It took everything in her to not bite at her nails. The one thing the acrylics were good for was curbing that habit. “It’s not a no, but I’d like to look at the contract and have a lawyer look over it before I agree to anything.” As young as she may seem, she wasn’t stupid. This would be a perfect way to take advantage of her. While she didn't have that feeling from him, she’d be dumb not to protect herself.
She didn’t expect the smile from him, but it made her heart beat a bit faster as he brought her hand up to kiss it. “Smart fuckin’ girl you are.” He laughed. “Good. That works with me. I hope you do sign it, though.” His eyes darkened a bit. Harry wasn’t good at sharing and the idea of this pretty thing belonging to him, in essence, made his dick twitch. “I’d love to take you with me to Italy and see you on my yacht. Maybe fuck you on it. Think you’d really love that.”
Y/N had a feeling she would, too. The idea of being with one man, a man she so far enjoyed despite a bit of arrogance and intimidation, was appealing after a year here. But she needed to cover her own ass before sinking into something too good to be true. “I would.” Her nails moved from his hand to card through his soft hair. “I’d love that. But I think you should focus on tonight, hm?” Her legs opened a little, and she guided his hand back to where it had been previously. “Take a look at the pretty things you’ve already got, Daddy.”
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poeghoul · 5 months
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hard times ii.
in which y/n misses harry.
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word count: 5,606 warnings: descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, angst, a wee bit of fluff part one
Y/n stood staring at her door for what felt like an eternity, mouth agape and hands sweating beside her, but when she was finally able to break her gaze from the chipped wood that stood before her, she realized it had only been five minutes. Five, incredibly prolonged, minutes. 
In a daze, she made her way to her bathroom, reaching in to flick the light on before entering. She stared at herself in the mirror; pink, tear stained cheeks while purple and blue hues graced the delicate skin under her eyes; she felt unrecognizable and hated locking eyes with who was staring back at her. She wanted to sob, a wave of anxiety crashed down onto her. She’d never felt more alone. Especially with the way he had left so abruptly. She wondered what she did to anger him so, while the sound of the door slamming played on repeat in her head. 
She moved over to the shower, reaching past the curtain to turn the water on, and undressed; her vision blurred from tears begging to escape, wanting to replicate the warmth of Harry’s hand on her cheek. She still didn’t know his name, but he’s bewitched her in ways she doesn’t understand. 
She stood still in the shower, covering her chest with her arms, not daring to move from the position that gave her a sense of protection. She felt watched; paranoid that the boy from the diner had found where she lived and planted hidden cameras and recording devices in every crevice of her home. She regretted getting in the shower, she regretted even undressing and, most of all, she regretted doing whatever she did to make Harry leave. 
If she could go back to being in the car with him, she would’ve lied about where she lived, drawing out the quick three minute drive to a four hour road trip if it meant spending the entire night in his presence; if it meant her thigh still felt the warmth of his and especially if it meant he would have looked into her eyes for even a minute longer. She missed the sense of safety he gave her and hoped he meant it when he said someone would be staying in the area she lived in. She was doubtful of someone coming by to bring her to and from work, and even more doubtful that, if she was proven wrong, she would be seeing Harry again.
Once she had worked up the courage to wash her hair, body and face, she wrapped a towel that was far too small for her comfort around her body and stepped out of the foggy, suffocating air of her bathtub. The mirror was fogged up, which she was grateful for, not wanting to make eye contact again with a reflection she hoped was deceiving. Had she looked that disheveled all night? Or was it just a reflection of the trauma she had been so unlucky to endure?
After she dressed herself in fuzzy pajama bottoms and a large sweater, she searched for her phone and tv remote, the silence of her apartment had become louder than ever before; it was unbearable, uncomfortable. She wanted to crawl out of her skin; wanted to become two separate piles of flesh and bone. Maybe her ribs wouldn’t feel so hollow, but still, somehow, filled with rocks. Maybe she wouldn’t have to stare at an unfamiliar face in the mirror and hate what she saw, afterall, she wouldn’t have flesh to prod at. 
 The silence became deafening. She needed something to fill the space, no longer comfortable with where her internal monologue was headed. 
Finding the remote, she turned her tv onto Netflix, playing the first thing she saw (she was so grateful it wasn’t Pride and Prejudice, she would’ve just cried on the floor the rest of the night), and throwing the remote somewhere on her bed. She searched her bag for her phone, remembering she had left it in the pocket of her jeans but forgetting if she had set it down somewhere. And for some reason, not being able to find her phone was her breaking point. 
She began pacing, breathing picking up before getting caught in her throat like a jagged pill that was too big to swallow. With trembling hands, she gripped strands of her hair, tugging on the root and yanking as hard as she could. She needed the sting, something to bring her back down; she felt like she was floating away; a balloon in the weak grasp of a six year old, haphazardly letting go, and crying from the lack of care. Her breathing caught again, and she couldn’t contain the sob that was begging, pleading with her to escape. 
She made her way to the bed, her vision becoming tunneled, and sat down while tears rolled down her face and onto her neck. The sound of the tv was drowned out by a ringing in her ears. She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished he had stayed a second longer. She wished his cologne wasn’t lingering in her studio. She wished his hand stayed on her cheek and, most of all, she wished he would’ve told her his name. She worried she wouldn’t see him again; she worried over how attached she had become to him, knowing it wasn’t healthy. But she couldn’t help it; not very many men would’ve done what he did for her. She would forever be grateful for him even if he never graced her with his presence again, she hoped he would, though. 
Finally, she was able to lay down, pulling the covers over her head and pulling her knees to her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she covered her mouth with her hand, a poor attempt at muffling the wails that left her body with her palm. The crying had begun to make her nauseous, thinking she’d vomit at any moment. The anxiety caused by that boy at the counter built up in her stomach, the pressure building up there beginning to burst. She rolled onto her back, not caring that this is the last position you’re supposed to be in when about to throw up, and thrashed. Gripping the sheets in her hands, her knuckles turned white, and she stuffed as much as she could take in her mouth and screamed, back arching into nothing above her, as a way to release the built up pressure coursing through her blood. Her throat ached. 
She wished he had stayed. She longed to be held. 
She cried herself to sleep. 
+++
Y/n got out of bed only when she had to; when she needed water and had to use the bathroom. She felt like all the life was drained out of her. And when she did use the bathroom, she didn’t wash her hands, not wanting to spend any extra time out of the familiar, comforting warmth of her bed (also not daring to even catch her reflection in the mirror, she was sure it’d make her feel ten times worse). She didn’t eat anything that morning and barely moved a muscle; her limbs aching all over. 
When she had to get ready for work, she brushed her teeth facing away from the mirror, and spat the toothpaste into the toilet. Brushed her hair, washed her face and did her makeup, all while barely making eye contact with herself. Though, she did feel significantly better after taking care of herself. 
She dressed herself in her normal uniform, a black long sleeve with black corduroy pants, and tried to slip her feet into her high top sneakers without untying them (she wasn’t sure why she always did that when she was never successful; always having to untie them and put them on her feet just to retie them, but she’d never admit defeat and would definitely do the same tomorrow).
Still unsure of where her phone was, she looked to the time displayed on the clock beside her bed. Only having about ten minutes to spare, she had to prioritize her options: either tear her apartment apart in search of her little cracked device or possibly get a coffee and have a cigarette. She chose the latter. She grabbed her keys from the little dish on her kitchen counter, stepped outside and locked the door behind her. She could look later. 
Skipping down the stairs, she pulled out the little blue carton of cigarettes and plucked one from the cardboard. Bringing the little stick to her mouth, she searched for her green lighter in her bag (the color only reminded her of his eyes, and introduced a dull ache in her chest), and cupped her hands around the end of the cigarette to light it. She inhaled the smoke, holding it in her lungs til it burned slightly, before exhaling and repeating the process over and over as she began to make her way to the diner. Black, stale coffee from a little ceramic mug will have to do for today. 
++
She was an hour into her shift, only attending three tables so far, when the bell on the door chimed. She approached the door and her breath caught. Green eyes looking around before staring into her. He walked to her, stomping his feel on the vinyl, checkered flooring as he neared her. Her expression similar to one of a deer in headlights. 
“I thought I told you I’d be sending someone to get you, did you not listen to me?” he spat at her, grabbing her arm to pull her closer, his hand lingering on her elbow. She felt tingly, butterflies erupting from cocoons that filled her stomach. She just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. His nostrils flared, “I asked you a question, Y/n,” y/n, even the way he said her name ignited something deep in her. 
“I-I just forgot, I’m sorry,” she bowed her head, gnawing on her bottom lip while her hands suddenly became more interesting than the man she yearned for the night before. He sighed, his eyes closed. 
“How did you forget? I told you that just last night,” she shrugged, still looking down. She went to respond, “look at me when I speak to you,” her head shot up, looking at him with doe like eyes. She thought she could get lost in the forest of his eyes; tall trees towering over her with leaves the same shade as his irises, crisp air filling her lungs while the wind whispered her name over and over again. 
“I just didn’t think you were serious, I’m sorry,” she continued to pick at her nails with her left hand, needing to occupy herself in some way to keep her composure, and pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth. Pale pink flesh turned bright red from surfacing blood. 
He didn’t like her response; she doubted his word. “I was absolutely serious, y/n, your safety,” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath in, he let go of her arm, not realizing he was still holding onto her. “Don’t you dare try to walk home tonight, Jax will be here to get you. You are only to leave if it’s with him, understood?” she nodded, muttering a ‘yes’ under her breath. “I don’t understand mumbling, use your words.”
“Yes,” she replied immediately, “yes, yeah, I understand.”
“Good,” he reached into his jacket pocket, a deep green rectangle in his hand. “You were dumb enough to leave your phone in my car,” her jaw dropped at the insult, he held back a smirk, her reaction feeding his desire for her. “Should keep better track of your belongings, y/n,” she pouted, furrowing her eyebrows at him. She looked like a sad little puppy, and all Harry wanted to do was suck her spit slicked bottom lip between his and touch her soft skin again. He stared down at her and the bell on the door chimed again. She broke her gaze, looking to the patron who’d just walked in. She stepped back to grab a menu and navigated around Harry to bring the customer to an unoccupied table (there was plenty, only one other person here) all while he watched her.
After she gave her introduction and took a drink order, she walked back to Harry. “Thank you for bringing my phone, I won’t forget it tonight,” she smiled at him but dropped it as he didn’t return the kind gesture. He nodded, her eyes wandering from his, unable to maintain composure while staring into his. He hummed out a ‘yeah’ in response. 
“Is it always this dead?” she shrugged one shoulder, looking out the window.
“Mmm, kinda, depends on the season,” she looked back to him, “I have to bring him his drink, thanks again for bringing my phone,” she half smiled.
“Don’t forget tonight, please.”
“I won’t,” she meant it. She absolutely wouldn’t. She couldn’t wait for her shift to be over. 
He didn’t move to leave, still. He stepped closer to her, taking a deep breath in while her breathing picked up, her heart beating erratically; she swore he would cause her to go into cardiac arrest with how close he was. He looked down at her, a significant difference in height, and y/n felt like she could collapse at any given moment. He was so close. 
And that was it. He turned to leave, not saying anything. Just turned around, opened the door and left. 
She pretended like it didn't hurt and resumed working as usual. 
+++
She didn’t have to stay late tonight like the previous. The last customer left a good forty five minutes before closing, giving her plenty of time to properly clean the little diner and scroll through her phone before being able to actually leave. And once 10:00pm hit, she locked the door before heading into the back for her nightly routine of gathering her things and clocking out.
She stepped outside with one of the cooks, saying their goodbyes to each other before parting ways. She looked ahead of her to the black range rover with a familiar man standing in front, the kind man who sat at the counter last night. She smiled at him while she approached him, he held the door open for her and she slid into an empty backseat. Her smile faltered. 
“How was your shift, miss y/n?” He asked as he slipped in the front seat.
She locked eyes with him in the rearview mirror and smiled at him, “it was good, thank you.” 
“You gave Mr. Styles quite the scare this morning,” he chuckled.
Mr Styles. 
“I’m sorry, I-I really didn’t know he was serious, I’m sorry,” she rushed out, shaking her head rapidly. 
“Oh don’t worry, sweet pea, he overreacts to everything,” he pulled out of the parking lot. She stayed quiet in the backseat. The drive was short, she was home almost instantly. 
“Thank you for the ride,” she collected her bag, adjusting the strap over her shoulder, “I’m off tomorrow so I won’t be seeing you, um, but should I give you my work schedule or-?” 
“Mr.Styles already has it,” he smiled at her in the rearview, “enjoy your day off.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you, again,” she returned the smile and opened the door, jumping out and shutting the door behind her before she made her way up the stairs leading to her studio. 
She pulled out her keys from her bag, inserted the key and entered the space. She turned the lights on, made her way to the kitchen and set her keys in the glass dish. After kicking her shoes off, she sat on the floor, leaning her back against her bed frame and scrolled through tiktok, trying to distract herself from descending into madness over the fact that he somehow just had her schedule (it absolutely worked, she watched one fifteen second video and the question was completely out of her mind).
She was giggling at her for you page when an unknown number called. She rolled her eyes, sending it to voicemail and resumed her uneventful scrolling. Or she tried to, as the number called again. And she sent it to voicemail, again. And they called again, she groaned and sent them to voicemail another time. The caller really couldn’t take a hint, could they?
Her phone vibrated in her hand, the number resorting to texting rather than calling. A smart move on their behalf, who answers calls from unknown numbers these days? Literally no one, that's who. 
Unknown:
Answer the phone. 
Y/n:
who is this??
Unknown:
Harry.
Y/n:
harry who?
Unknown:
Just answer the call, y/n. 
The drop of her name freaked her out, she held her phone cautiously in her hand. Breathing picking up as she anticipated another call. The familiar call screen popped up, and she hit the green button this time, held it up to her cheek and uttered a ‘hello’ into the speaker. 
“Why’d you send me to voicemail?” she recognized the voice immediately. 
A dimple dug into the skin of her cheek as she grinned, “I don’t answer unknown numbers, Harry,” she loved saying his name. She wished she could make a song of it. Harry, Harry, Harry, she would sing in the prettiest, sweetest melody.
“Well, I suppose that's for the best. But from here on I expect an immediate answer, understood?” 
“Mmhm,” she responded, chewing on her bottom lip to contain her giddiness; she’s only known him for one day and he already has her like this! 
He sighed into his speaker, “I’ve already told you, y/n, use your words. I don’t like repeating myself.”
She rolled her eyes, “yes sir,” she mocked. 
“Good girl,” her eyes widened and she swore her heart stopped, and maybe he meant it in a fatherly way, but she would absolutely read into it in a way beyond that. In a very non-fatherly way. “Did you make it inside?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good” she bit her lip and shut her eyes. “And Jax was on time?”
“Yes,” she couldn’t find anymore words in her vocabulary, like twenty three years of speaking and learning new terms were thrown out the window from a simple praise. A praise that probably meant nothing to him, 
“And you’re off tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“And yes is the only word you know?”
“Yes,” he laughed, “wait no. No,” she scrunched her face up, covering her eyes with her hand, thankful he wasn’t physically with her in her moment of embarrassment. Though if Harry was here again, she would’ve found a way to embarrass herself even more. “How did you even get my number?”
“Your passcode isn’t really that hard to guess,” she scoffed, he breathed out another laugh. Is it possible to tattoo someone's voice onto your body? “Fifteen-fifteen, real creative.”
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the wide smile that was begging to stretch the skin of her cheeks. “Is snooping through my phone how you found my schedule?”
“Maybe,” he teased. Her smile was too strong, breaking across her face while her cheeks ached from how wide it was. “Get some sleep, y/n. Let me know when you wake in the morning, please.”
“I will, Harry, thank you.”
“Goodnight, y/n.”
“Goodnight, Harry.”
Reluctantly, she pressed the red button on the bottom of the screen, a giddy feeling in her veins. She stood from her position on the floor, and laid on her stomach on her bed, her feet kicking in the air as Harry’s name played on repeat in her brain. She smushed her face into her duvet and squealed, kicking her feet as fast as they could go. She couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow. 
Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry. 
She loved the way his name played on repeat in her mind while she got ready for bed. 
She loved the way her name rolled off his tongue and fell asleep while it played on repeat; her new favorite song. She just wished she could physically listen to it at that moment. 
+++
Harry:
Call me when you’re awake. 
Y/n stared at the message for nearly twenty minutes, rereading the five words over and over again, but somehow couldn’t manage to respond or call. She even had her read receipts on, so if Harry did check the message he sent, he absolutely would’ve known she was awake. But she still couldn’t bring herself to reply and she definitely was not going to be calling him; she knew he’d call her if he noticed she had read it, she would just wait for the call from him and take his degradation with a giddy little smile. 
When more minutes passed, she hovered her thumb over his contact icon at the top of the screen. What was she even gonna say? Why did he want her to call him? Why did he make her so nervous all the damn time? Even thinking about talking to him made her anxiety spike. Even thinking about hearing his voice say her name again rendered her thoughtless. And so her thumb stayed hovered over the little icon at the top, still not daring to make an actual move. She wondered why he hadn’t called her yet. 
Huffing out a groan, she turned off the screen and set her phone beside her, deciding that, instead of dwelling in her anxiety, she would make a little cup of coffee. When she had the time, she would make an oat milk chai tea latte, with extra, extra cinnamon on the bottom and top. Iced, of course. Even in the dead of winter, she’d rather have a cold drink over hot, claiming the hot lattes would give her a tummy ache but somehow teas were fine year round. As soon as she rose from her squeaky bed, her phone began vibrating from somewhere in the sheets. In a panic, she tore her bed apart, pulling the comforter off completely before throwing it to the floor. 
“Please god don’t let it go to voicemail, please please please,” she felt around for her phone in a frenzy. How was it so easy to lose when she literally had it in her hand two seconds ago? And, of course he would call as soon as she got out of bed, he would do that. “Yes!” she shouted once she found it underneath her pillow, but, with her luck, it went to voicemail. 
Phone:
Harry Missed call
Harry:
Call me.
Harry:
Now. 
Oh, he was pissed. She knew she was in for it. She tapped on the missed call notification and held it up to her ear. He picked up immediately. 
“You don’t know how to answer a phone, y/n?” 
“I do, I just misplaced my phone, I’m sorry,” she pouted, and even though he wasn’t with her, he could see her sad little puppy dog face within her tone. 
He sighed into his speaker, “you’re infuriating, you know that?” she frowned. 
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. He made her feel so small; sometimes in the worst way. 
“Don’t be, little lamb, I’m only teasing,” little lamb.
She’s convinced she died. She’s convinced she actually died and is dead and is in heaven. He killed her, she’s sure. 
“Did you call me to be mean to me?” she pulled her lips into her mouth, concealing a smile. 
He laughed, her heart stopped, “well, that’s one of the reasons,” he chuckled, “do you need to go anywhere today, I can send Jax to get you.”
“Mmm,” she thought for a moment, “I may have to do grocery shopping but it’s not, like, dire or anything,” she shrugged. 
“That’s it?”
She nodded, “well, yeah. I don’t really do much on my days off.”
She heard shuffling in the back, “you don’t get bored?” 
“Sometimes, but I like having time to myself like this. I’ll have to clean today, though, so that'll keep me occupied. I might bake something if I have the time.” 
“Mm, what’ll you bake if you have the time?” every noise, every word he lets out makes her heart flutter. 
“I have some old bananas in the fridge so I’m thinking maybe a banana bread with chocolate chips. I wanna try to make cinnamon rolls again but I’m too lazy to wait for the dough to rise,” his laugh echoed through the speaker.  
“If you do decide to bake some, could you possibly make enough for me?” Yes. Yes. She would bake anything ever if he’d ask. She’d do anything. 
“Yeah, I can make enough for you,” she grinned. 
Then, the switch flipped. 
“Let me know if you need Jax to get you. Have a good day, y/n,” and he hung up. 
A frown replaced her beaming smile, her face contorting in confusion. She’d done it again. She doesn’t know what, but she knew she had done something to upset him again. 
Y/n practically had no choice but to stay in bed for the rest of the day. The life drained out of her once again. Her head pounded from the lack of caffeine in her system and her stomach ached from lack of food. 
Baking was off the table. Cleaning was unattainable. Her tv played in the back while she stared at the wall. 
She hated how she grew attached to people so easily. She hated how badly she wanted him to call her again. She hated how badly she wanted to hear his voice. She hated how much she just wanted to be called little lamb again and kissed on the forehead while he held her. It would never happen, though, but she wanted it to happen. So badly. 
She yearned for him the rest of the day. 
+++
It was dark by the time she finally got out of bed, leaving the warmth of her comfortable position from which she dwelled on her sadness. The recent time change was not helping her emote properly as it got darker earlier now, and was probably only around 5:30 when she finally made the decision to get up. She winced when her feet touched her freezing hardwood flooring, and made her way to the kitchen. Opening up the fridge, she could’ve sworn that a little fly flew out, as there was nothing but old, browned bananas and plenty of apple juice. She wished she had the courage to text Harry and asked if Jax could take her to the grocery store. Banana bread with chocolate chips sounded so good right now. 
If she had the money to spare, she could order some pizza, but, of course with the money she makes and the expenses of her apartment, she doesn’t. So instead, she’ll walk to the 24 hour liquor store down the street and buy a bag of chips and a bottle of wine. Getting drunk and watching Brokeback Mountain sounded like the best idea (it wasn’t).
She pulled a different sweater over her head and replaced her sleeping pair of sweatpants with a pair of outside sweatpants (there’s a difference!). Picking up her bag and keys, she headed out the door locking it behind her. 
“Where are you going?” she jumped, dropping her keys from her hand. Piercing green eyes looked through her. 
“What are you doing here?” she had to look away, she couldn’t maintain eye contact with Harry. Especially when he’s wearing a navy blue suit with the sleeves rolled up.
“I asked you a question, y/n. I expect an answer,” he stepped to her, looking down at her when she couldn’t even look at him.
“I,” she sighed, tears welling in her eyes again. “I just wanted a snack so I was just gonna walk to the store, it’s not far.”
“Get inside,” she looked up at him, he noticed her pained expression, an unfamiliar ache in his chest. “Please,” he sighed, “please y/n just, just get inside.”
She turned, picked up her keys from the floor and unlocked the door, him following behind her. It reminded her of the other night, but this time she was prepared for him to leave angry again. This time, she wouldn’t let him touch her cheek or be sweet to her. She sat on her bed, her head hung low. 
“You didn’t make banana bread?” she shook her head. “Oh.” she muttered something he couldn’t make out and sighed in response, “I don’t understand mumbling, y/n, I’ve told you this.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” she still didn’t look at him. 
He smiled at her even though she wasn’t looking, “just came to collect my banana bread but I’ve been let down,” he tried to joke with her. 
“Sorry.”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair and went to sit next to her on the bed. Still, she wouldn’t look at him. “What’s wrong little lamb?”
She hated that he called her that. Hated that he was so hot and cold with her. She wished he had never come into the diner. Wished that stupid boy never waited for her outside. 
“Nothing, ‘m just tired,” she lied, crossing her arms over her chest. He stared at her for a beat. 
“Do you still want a snack?” she shook her head. “What have you eaten?” she mumbled out a ‘nothing’ loud enough for him to hear and he ignored the fact that she mumbled against his wishes. “Gotta get some food in ya, little lamb.”
“Stop calling me that,” she loved the nickname, but hearing it in that moment was too much for her. She longed for him to call her that all day, it crushed her thinking that he was only calling her that out of pity now. 
“Why?”
“Don’t like it,” she lied, again, but she wouldn’t admit that she loved it. She wouldn’t admit it was her favorite sound. 
“Oh okay, I’m sorry then, I’ll stop,” but he really didn’t want to. He wanted to call her his little lamb and stare into her doe like eyes and kiss her pink lips until his lungs gave out. And much like her, he’d never admit it. “But we still gotta get you something li-.” he stopped himself before it could slip from his lips. “Can order you something, anything you’d like,” still stubborn she shook her head. “Y/n please, let me order you something. You need to eat,” he reached up to push her hair behind her ear but she pulled away. He pulled his hand back, the unrecognizable ache deepened. 
“ ‘M not hungry.”
“Fine. Go ‘head and pout all night. Fine by me,” he got off the bed and approached the door, hoping it would get her to say something, anything, to get him to stay. But she said nothing. His hand lingered on the doorknob.
“Bye,” was all she said. But he still wouldn’t leave. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, exhaling through his mouth, turned around and walked over to y/n. 
He crouched down below her, his hands on her knees. “Please, please just look at me.”
Her hair covered her face, his hands begged him to push it out of the way so he could look into her irises, having never seen any such a beautiful color. 
Finally, she looked at him. Her face flushed with watery eyes and a bright pink nose. Tentatively, he reached up, his thumb wiping away a stray tear that managed to escape, before resuming their place on her knees. “Can you please tell me why you’re crying? Please.”
She breathed in and gulped. “You make me feel small,” her lips quivered. “You’re so,” she looked around, trying to organize her thoughts enough to create a coherent sentence. “You’re so hot and cold. This morning, on the phone, at first you were so kind and then you just weren’t,” she looked away from him, picking at the peeling skin around her nails. “You keep leaving like you’re angry and I don’t think you like me very much but you keep coming back and it’s just so confusing.” 
“I’m so sorry, little lamb. I just, I,” he was at a loss for words, not knowing how to properly express his feelings. 
“You just what, Harry?” she looked down at him, silently begging him to explain himself. They’ve only known each other for two days but he’s captivated her, so enchanted by the mere fact that he’s here before her; that he’s real. 
“I don’t know,” he said in a low tone, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I think it’s best if I leave.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry too.”
He removed his hands from her knees, getting up to make his way to the door. He didn’t hesitate this time though, he opened it up, the chill of the autumn breeze passing by him and entering the space. He wanted so badly for her to ask him to stay, but he felt even if she did, she wouldn’t have meant it. That hurt the most. 
The door closed behind him, y/n was quick to get up and lock it. She went to lay in her bed again, her face contorting with pain, a sob escaping her lips as her head hit the pillow. Her phone vibrated next to her. 
Harry:
Contact: Jax D. 
In case you need to go anywhere. 
She wouldn’t reply. And she wouldn’t see or speak to Harry for nearly a month. 
But she’d think about him everyday. From the moment she’d wake up to the moment she’d fall asleep.
crying in the light of the TV static
tags: @tiaamberxx
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Note
Bestie can you write something about reader getting her period and Harry having to go get her tampons and he’s all scared n stuff?
pairing: mafia harry x reader
warnings: harry threatens to shoot someone, caring mafia harry, mentions of blood and periods, swearing, period sex(kinda)
~
Harry has just gotten out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist as he gums quietly, entering his and YN’s bedroom to get dressed for the day. He doesn’t have plans until much later, so he settles for some boxers and no shirt, ready to get back in bed and cuddle with YN until she wakes up.
As he’s slipping back under the covers though, he feels something wet as his leg grazes her backside, making him physically recoil. He takes a quick peek and his face pales as he realizes it’s blood on YN’s thighs. He has a moment of internal panic as he tries to figure out where to go from here but then he decides to just wake her up, feeling guilty that he’s interrupting her sleep. She groans in annoyance at being woken up, but Harry knows it’s for a good reason.
“You’re bleeding, love,” he mumbled awkwardly, trying not to show his discomfort for the situation. It’s not that he’s disgusted by it or anything, he’s just never dealt with a period in this way. Her eyes shoot open and she whines as she now feels the sticky feeling between her thighs.
Tears are forming quickly and he’s quick to come over to her and shush her cries, not liking the tears one bit. “Cmon, dove. No tears, hm?” he coos, thumbing away at the salty tears that have started tracking down her face. “What can I do?” he whispers.
“I wasn’t supposed to get m’period for another week and I planned to get tampons tomorrow. I don’t have anything here to use,” she sniffles, embarrassed at the way their morning has begun. “Could you run to the store and get me something? Just something to hold me over until I can go?” she asks him, squirming uncomfortably in her place.
“You want me to get you…tampons?” he questions uneasily, his stomach already in knots. He’s never had to do anything like this before, and he definitely didn’t plan for this today. She just nods at him and he already can’t say no to her on a regular day, the fact that he knows she’s embarrassed when she doesn’t have to be and the fact that she’s probably in pain isn’t helping.
So he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to her lips before getting dressed. Before he leaves YN tells him the brand she needs and the kind, thanking him as she quickly strips the sheets to soak them. He’s out the door in 5 minutes flat and as he drives to the store he repeats her instructions over and over, but it all leaves his head the moment he steps in the doors.
Imagine the fear and curiosity all of the cashiers have when they see the most feared crime boss enter their job in confident strides; none of them notice the way he’s mumbling the brand name under his breath or the way his hands are slightly shaking as he heads straight for the aisle he needs.
The commotion in the store is at a standstill as they all wait with baited breaths for him to emerge from the aisle, none of them having the confidence to check in on him. He’s in a squatting position as he searches, but then his scattered thoughts are interrupted by the sound of someone behind him.
“Hello, sir. Can I help you find anything?” the young man asks carefully, slowly stepping over to where Harry is beginning to get frustrated and is still searching. He stands up so quickly that Eric flinches back in fear.
“Look me in the eye again and I’ll shoot your foot off,” he snaps gruffly, making the younger employee shift his eyes to the floor immediately. He then thinks of what YN would say if she were here and takes a deep breath, deciding to try again. “Do you know where the, um, L brand assorted tampons are?” he mumbles, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck.
Eric nods immediately and steps over to where they are, grabbing two boxes and bringing them back to Harry. “Is there anything else you’re looking for?” he asks meekly, and Harry just shrugs his shoulders and mumbles an ‘I don’t know what she’d need’. From then Eric and Harry go around the store and grab everything she could possibly need. Pain killers, a heating pad, snacks, and he even found a cute little panda face mask he knows she’d love.
They’re at the register a few short minutes later and Harry’s cheeks are on fire as he can feel all the eyes on him, and he just wishes Eric would hurry the fuck up. When everything is bagged and paid for, Harry slips him a literal hundred dollar bill and nods in thanks as he heads from the store with his bags, eager to get home to YN.
He practically speeds home to get to her, and the moment his shoes are off at the door he’s sprinting up the stairs with the bags in his hands. He finds her in the shower and he places the tampons on the counter before heading into the bedroom to drop everything else off.
Not long after, YN emerges from the bathroom with a dopey smile on her face at his gesture, walking to stand in between his legs.
“Thank you,” she starts, her words nothing short of genuine. Just the sweetest husband,” her words are feeding his ego and he leans up to press a greedy kiss to her lips.
“Yeah?” he pulls away. “Gonna let me show how sweet I can really be?” he teases, moving down to nip at the sweet spot on her neck. She moans softly and leans into his touch.
“Never gonna say no to that,” she responds. Harry wastes no more time, and in mere seconds he’s got her bare and on her back, legs spread as he lines himself up with her.
~
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angelisverba · 2 years
Text
crossfire
in which harry’s urge to party on his 28th birthday results in the harm of his precious girl, and there’s nothing to do but love her at the end of the night
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word count: 10.1K
pairing: y/n x mafialeader!h
warnings: near death experience, use of knife and guns, mention of drugs, mentions of crime, explicit content, sex. do not read if you are opposed to anything mafia related, and don’t come at me for it if you don’t like it.
author’s note: this isn’t my best work, in my opinion. this piece felt like giving birth. it took me forever to get out, and i’ve had the worst writer’s block. in this fic, y/n literally lives for harry and it goes against some of my feminist beliefs, but i have to understand that this man literally saved her life. he is her everything. all that happened was meant to. hope you enjoy :D
There are a plethora of unspoken- but heavily enforced- rules in the mafia, and even more so in the morally grey organization Harry leads.
One of those being to show devout levels of respect for the women that are present or closely connected to him, especially y/n given that she is the boss’s girl. This respect, however, went beyond just being polite and allowing her to pass through the door while holding it open for her. It extended to reverence and borderline worshiping the ground she walked on. The men were expected to guard her before anyone else, even Harry. It was something he made sure to tell every single able-bodied, gun-carrying person in his frequently rotating circle of close employees.
Y/n knew this because she had overheard him talking to a neatly lined up row of brawny, tough men before entering a banquet with an extensive amount of businessmen whose affairs extended beyond the corporate world and into the organized crime arena Harry rules over.
“I don’t give a fuck if someone’s got a gun to my head, your first priority should always be y/n, do you understand me? Keep her safe, or kiss your fuckin’ life goodbye.”
His voice had been filled with a viciousness not directed to anyone there, but rather the lingering possibility of what could happen to her if they didn’t do as he said. If she ended up hurt. Or worse. Threats to her life were something that she still had trouble processing, and when these worries were voiced to her lover, he spent long moments with her in his lap, holding her, kissing her, assuring her that nothing would ever happen to her as long as he was there, and even if something were to happen to him, backup measures were set in place so ensure her safety. Soft murmurs against her skin and his fingers dancing across her shoulder blades talked her through her worries and shut each and everyone of them down with swift declarations.
When your partner was the leader of an organized crime ring, paranoia was something you had to deal with, and y/n didn’t always handle it well. Sometimes, an itchy, gnawing sensation akin to the hollow drop of in the stomach while on a rollercoaster, those few seconds spent waiting to reach a solid, stable point again, crept up on her before she had to leave the house. It was something her and Harry actively worked on, discussing in detail what was playing out in her mind, explaining to her what she should do if something ever went wrong (this was always one of two things. The first being to get behind him and let him take care of things, or defend herself, run away to safety or for cover), and even meditating together quietly in the sunroom facing their backyard or underneath a large willow tree outside. 
Paranoia was a nasty thing. 
And it was creeping on her the night of Harry’s birthday party. He had decided that his second to last birthday before thirty should be spent differently from his others- mostly because he liked to place importance on things that weren’t traditionally that important (because since when was twenty eight an important number?), and partly because in recent days Harry had been overcome with an urge to party. This need would manifest in music blaring from the house speakers at random moments at night- Kendrick Lamar, Drake, and plenty of other rap artists that would make your head bop if you were a twenty year old dude at a frat party. Occasionally, he would switch from the rap genre to disco or 80’s love ballads, and he’d grab y/n’s waist, pull her front to his, and stare deep into her eyes while singing along to I Want To Know What Love is. 
When questioned by y/n one night, he had said to her, “I just need to relax, baby. I haven’t partied in so long. I just watch the parties, and it’s fuckin’ sad.” 
And a few weeks after that, he made the decision to close one of his clubs for the night, invite all of his business partners, friends, and whatever family that would like to come, and ‘have a hangover before wakin’ up’. Harry had included her in much of the planning, and even let her take over some aspects as well (decorations, food, the guestlist) so that she felt comfortable and safe. The one thing he would not let her have control over was security, the music selections, and drinks. Together, they put together an unforgettable night. 
Only, it was unforgettable for all of the wrong reasons. 
The day has started off correctly. Harry was all smiles from the moment he bristled away from the clutches of sleep with the help of y/n’s lips around his cock, a murmur of ‘happy birthday, daddy’ thrumming against the sensitive underside of his dick and eliciting a warm spurt of cum to run down her throat. Of course, the favor didn’t go unreturned. As soon as his toes unclenched and his spine shrunk back down from the arch it was in, his fingers uncurled from the fist it had made in her hair and snaked around her waist to tug her up the front of his body. His prick was already hardening between them again as Harry ravaged her mouth, whispering how his first gift from her had been amazing and the second one was going to be even better. 
“Love your tight cunt in the morning, princess” 
“Is this all for me? Hmm? This is daddy’s pussy isn’t it, baby? Say it” 
“Stop fuckin’ squeezing me like that, little girl, or I’ll ruin you” 
Afterwards, they climbed out of bed with the goal of showering together, but Harry’s pawing hands crept between her thighs while he sat on the edge of the bed with her between his thighs and caressed her clit until she was shaking with the tremors of her third orgasm, pushing at his hand from being oversensitive. 
“No more, please,” she whispered, her words blending in with the woosh of air of her running breath. 
“I think y’can give me a few more, baby love. Get in the shower and I’ll show you.” He looked up at her from between his still-sleepy lashes, authority oozing from him even though he was still rumpled from sleep and sex. Any softness that may have possibly . The grip of his hand on her thigh was so strong that her skin was sure to be flushed when they were no longer on her, and the way he languorously looked at her with his desire so blatantly on display without shame sent shiver’s down y/n’s spine. 
Even though she knew she would end up crying legitimate tears of pleasure before they even got dry, y/n shyly stood on shaky knees and wobbled over to the bathroom, Harry following so closely she would feel the heat and thickness of him on her backside. A loopy smile graced her lips, her heart sick with love at the feel of his warm, heavy palm gliding softly over the curve of her waist- not quite guiding, just holding. 
“I can hardly walk,” y/n protested, her knees buckling to the point where Harry had to dip and catch her with an arm around her shaking body, “I don’t know if I can give you any more, H.” 
The tip of his nose grazes her bare shoulder as they walk through the door frame to the bathroom.  Or rather, Harry walks and she drags her feet between his own, the pleasure still running through her veins with the added, euphoric feel of his touch adding to her ability to do anything. “You will give me more, baby,” he said in a gruff voice, his lips moving against the back of her neck and he kissed his way to her ear, “y’know why?” 
When she didn’t respond immediately, he hummed against her skin, “hmm?” 
A moan left with her words. “Why, daddy?”
“Because I fuckin’ want more. Understand me?” 
Y/n murmured her response, words incoherent but meaning something along the lines of ‘yes, I understand’. He hauled her into the tub after setting the water to a warm temperature, and settled her between his knees, coaxing her to another climax with his fingers, and then twice on his cock before he released inside of her, tensing as he grunted how much he ‘loved her wet cunt’.
They didn’t have to be anywhere until later on that night at 6pm, so Harry had arranged a relaxed breakfast in their sprawling backyard where no one (expect the guards he trusted to stand at certain positions to keep watch) would disturb their moment of peace, moments that were so rare to come by in his world. His chef, Matilda, a sweet Italian lady that was Tony’s grandmother, worked depending on whether he or y/n didn’t feel like cooking, and considering that it was his birthday, and he wanted to spend every moment of his day with his hands all over his girl, while she gave him all of her attention, none of them would be cooking, and Matilda was downstairs cooking a mixture of Italian and American breakfast foods. 
There was an unusual exchange between them, given their roles for the day. One would expect that as the birthday boy, Harry would allow himself to be blindfolded, coddled, kissed, and spoiled. But no, instead, he was the one doing the blindfolding. A large, warm, and ever-present palm on y/n’s waist led her securely underneath the large arc leading from their kitchen to the gardens, where a temporary tent had been set up to cover the table where their steaming breakfast awaited them. 
“Harry, where are you taking me?” y/n asked, a breathy laugh tainting her weary sentence. Normally, when the red silk band found its way around her eyes, she was tied down to their bed with his tongue between her legs, and a haughty, mean air to his actions. This time, there was no dominant coldness, only warm chuckles saturated with a cheeky smile that promised a secret. 
“You never really are patient, are you, m’love?” He leaned in to press a smacking kiss on her neck, bared by the emerald green satin dress that swathed around her figure like a ribbon, layers of cloth accumulating at her navel before flaring down and collecting tightly at her lower back to display a clear outline of her bum. The shade was the exact color of his eyes, and she had chosen to wear it for that reason. “Just a few more steps. Almost there.” 
He didn’t say anything else that might reveal the surprise- his or hers, that was unclear- in hopes that she might smell everything first, and figure it out. 
“You’re keeping poor Matilda waiting for way too l- oh! Are we on grass now?” She exclaimed when her feet left the cool tile of their house and met the tickling cushion of well-trimmed grass. 
Harry grabbed her hand with his free one, and slowed his walk to accommodate her blind ones, “too many questions, tsk-tsk-tsk. Ask one more and that’s one less orgasm for you tonight.”
“I’ve already had too many this morning, daddy,” y/n responded with a teasing lilt in her tone, smiling in the direction she hoped was his face. 
“Watch the attitude, little girl,” he tapped her bum, his voice playfully dropping to a cautious tone before he stopped a few feet away from the breakfast spread before them. 
And waited.
Harry watched the way her nose crinkled as it crinkled at it worked, her brows dipping underneath the blindfold while her chin tipped upwards. Smelling the air, almost like a puppy. “Is that food?” She asked, turning to face him the best she could, and huffed through her nose, “can I take this off now?”
Finally conceding, Harry gently untied the loose knot he’d made at the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair as the material slipped away to smooth out any kinks he may have left behind. This was his favorite part, watching her features transform into one of delight- the various facets which he never got tired of creating because it was proof that he was capable of doing something good- before she eventually threw herself into his arms and demanded to be kissed. 
Allowing her to marvel at the gauzy fabric of the makeshift pavilion, waving in the wind with in calm turrets of white cotton, Harry smiled down at her, utterly in love as a soft, mushy feeling encompassed him. He loved making her happy. Sharing moments with her in which they were both consumed with such overpowering feelings that they both forgot where they were, who they were, and the only thing that mattered was that they were just two people loving each other. 
“D’you like it, angel?” He asked her, wrapping his arms around his arms around her waist and bending significantly in order to be able to rest his chin on her shoulder, nuzzling at the soft skin where before kissing it. “Had to make sure I distracted you enough so they had enough time to set this up,” lining up his mouth at her ear, “can y’pretty pussy forgive me?”
Y/n gasped before dissolving into a nervous fit of giggles, “I-... Harry, I don’t know what to-...”
“Just tell me how much you love it. Y’know how much I love it when you tell me how much y’love what Daddy does for you,” he wasted no time in filling in her trailed off silence, tracing the line of her jaw with the tip of his nose and allowing the hot whisper of his breath to heat her skin, encouraging her flustered state. He was vulgar, sinful, purposefully allowing the most inappropriate words to leave the cave of his mouth because he loved to watch her squirm, and know that he did that, too. 
Turning around in his embrace, she wrapped her arms around his neck shyly, flattening her palms on his chest before smoothing them up to twirl the hair at the back of his neck between her fingers. Her face was flushed, her lips twitching with a smile as she muttered, “it’s true.”
Grinning wolfishly, he claimed her mouth in a kiss and then took her hand to help her sit. 
They ate their breakfast the way they always did, sitting beside each other instead of across because Harry liked to keep his hand on her thigh when she was near, or anywhere on her, really. And he liked to feed her bits of his food, or take some from hers. Since it was his birthday, and he could do whatever he wanted, he decided that the best way to wrap up his meal would be with something sweet. 
Between her legs. 
The parts of their day between breakfast and the beginning of Harry’s party dropped by in a saccharine haze, sickeningly sweet as he opted to keep only the company of his girl, and save the birthday wishes from friends for later that night. Y/n’s heart was in a constant state of fluttering, never quite attached to the correct ventricle veins that maintained the organ securely in place. The voice in her head questioned if she should be the one on the receiving end of multitudes of affections- caresses, kisses, frequent heavy petting that left her writhing on a precipice that she never fell off of- given that it was not her birthday, but Harry’s. When she vocalized this concern, he merely licked into her mouth with such ardor that all of her doubts fled the recesses of her mind.
A few hours before they had to head out, Harry announced that he would get ready in their guest room so they ‘aren’t tempted to be late’, and ‘save the final fuck later so her pussy isn’t sore’. Though, and she would never admit this, y/n doubted that there would be anything of the sort happening later that night, if Harry got as hammered as he claimed he wanted to be. 
They got ready in their respective bathrooms, and y/n thought it was strange for there to be so much silence as she did her hair. The only noise she could hear was the one coming from her hairdryer, but, what Harry wanted today he would get. 
“Darling girl,” y/n heard him call from somewhere down the hall. “Where are you, baby?”
His steps were heavy with the official click of expensive Italian leather shoes, a gift that had arrived a few days ago from one of his business partners. When she questioned him about it, Harry liked to say that everyone whom he did business with was nothing more to him than a ‘shit sack of money to do business with’, and a look of distaste came over him that convinced her completely. Yet… a fond look came over him when he read the short- and y/n thought, quite mean- note that was attached to the elaborate wrapping.
You won’t ever do good things with shitty shoes. Try a pair made from my shoe maker, maybe things will turn around for you.
She had thought that business went well for him, given the life she was so lucky to have, and didn’t understand the meaning of the card until Harry hid his chuckle behind two fingers.
Pinching the bust of her dress and moving it side to side to get it to sit on her correctly, y/n was applying the finishing touches to her outfit, such as her shoes and jewelry. “In here, H!”
“Gotta get goin’, sweetheart. Y’almost ready to go?” Harry called from just outside the bathroom
“Just gotta put on my jewelry and I’m good,” Y/n picked up an earring and removed the back before leaning closer to the mirror.
“Here, let me,” Walking in, he strode right up to where her jewelry was and picked up the necklace she was going to wear, “hold y’hair for me, love. Yeah, jus’ like that.”
“Y’so fucking pretty,” he mumbled into her hair once the clasp was fastened, his hands smoothing over her shoulders and down her arms, pushing the outline of his dick into the crevice of her ass, “it makes m’cock hard.”
“Harry!”
He slapped her bum and left her with enough of a sting that she was sure he had colored her skin. “S’not what I am, t’you, is it little girl?”
“No, daddy. I’m sorry.”
“Better. Now come on, or I’ll be late t’my own party.”
---
Never, not in any lifetime, did y/n think she would ever get to see Harry, in a private room with some old friends and the same partner that sent him the shoes, have a shot every time a certain word came up in a song, and taking turns switchings songs while someone else names the word. It was a game that had been created on the spot, after a margarita made by Fabio, an Italian mafia boss.
She wasn’t participating in the drinking that night, instead looking out for Harry with the help of Tony and a few other men who wouldn’t let her leave their sight- per Harry’s instructions, she was sure.  Not that he needed any looking out for. The man could certainly hold his own liquor, but y/n figured that it would be easier if everyone dealt with drunk men, instead of drunk women. She also didn’t feel safe, but would never ruin Harry’s birthday by saying that out loud.
“M’love, please try these margarita’s Fabio made. They’re better than the ones I make for you, n’I know just how you like them,” he said, mouth at her ear at just the right volume so he was heard over a Kendrick Lamar song. She could smell the sweetness of fruit, and the murky smell of tequila. It wasn’t one that she particularly liked, and given that she didn’t like how… grand this all was, she had to fight a pout.
Shaking her head, and smiling sweetly at him, she said, “M’okay, H. Maybe later.” She didn’t want to ruin his night because he hardly ever got to relax, and maybe that’s why this whole ordeal wasn’t sitting right with her. It wasn’t like him to be the one to let his guard down, not in the ‘field he worked in’, as he likes to put it.
He pressed a warm kiss against her temple, smothering his nose into her hair. With his empty hand he hooked the loose hairs around her ear and allowed his nails to lightly scratch the sensitive skin under her jaw before pinching her chin. Turning her head so she was looking right at her, he said, “alright, baby. Y’tell me if y’want something, yeah? M’right here f’you.”
Y/n nodded, and tried to relax in her seat, attempting to forget about the droopy loop in Harry’s eyes. There were armed men stationed at every entry and exit point in the transformed warehouse, but the amplitude of it all was disorienting. This was not his nature.
The four men- Fabio, a magician with margaritas and one of Harry’s Italian business partners, Lorenzo, Louis, Harry’s marijuana distributor in California, Dan, one of Harry’s financial advisors, and Heathrow, a burly, quiet man who didn’t speak much and helped Harry… attain information- all lounged in couches in the velvety room stocked with a fully functional bar which Fabio ran like it was what he did for a living instead of running a drug empire.
“Y/n, piccola biscotti, are you sure you don’t want a margarita? Not even a virgin?” Fabio pushed his white sleeves further up his arms and smiled toothily at her. He didn’t look very menacing that way, with his red curls beginning to spill out of the coif he had styled them into and falling in front of his eyes. The chip on his tooth gleamed with an outline made of gold.
Harry curled an arm around her and pulled her close while looking at her, waiting on her response. “Y’can say no, baby,” her murmured low enough for only her ears.
On any other day she would’ve said yes. But, today? Something was off, and she didn’t want to stomach anything.
“I’m okay, Fabio. Thank you, though.”
“Of course! Anything for Harry’s princesa,” he winked at her, and used a rag near his hand to wipe down the sparkling black marble counter. “So, birthday boy, ready to go out there and get your groove on?”
Harry, apparently too many cups in, threw his head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. It was a laugh y/n mostly heard when they were alone, and she had to hide the flush on her cheeks from her flustered state at his words by looking away. “You’re a corny ass motherfucker, y’know that?”
“Yeah, yeah, and I get high on my own supply, these are things we know already. Can we get out of this hole now? You-” Louis pointed a finger at Harry- “invited too many beautiful women for me not to do anything about it. So let’s get moving!”
Everyone but Harry stood up, and just as y/n was about to push off her seat, Harry tightened a hand on her thigh and waved everyone off, “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute, need a few with m’girl.”
They all shook their heads, Hearthrow mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like ‘young love’ and followed the rest of the group out of the room. The music from outside pulsed inside the room when they opened the doors, and came to a mute when they closed them again. 
When it was just the two of them again, Harry hauled her into his lap and planted a kiss on her surprised lips. A hmph worked its way out of her chest, her hands flying like little birds between them until they settled on his chest. 
“Darling,” he said, still kissing her, “what’s wrong?”
“Wh- what do you mean, H? Nothing is wrong,” y/n, too caught up in the shock that Harry had read her so clearly, was unable to deliver a convincing response. Her hands crept closer to his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt. 
Reaching up to grab her hands, Harry shook his head and gave her a stern look. The giddy, inebriated man was gone, and her Daddy took his place. He gathered them on his chest, above his heart, “don’t lie to me, baby. You aren’t being yourself. Tell me, so I can fix it.” 
“I-” she began.
He squeezed her hands. “I don’t want to hear that you’re fine. Tell me the truth, or we’re leaving and I’m spanking your ass raw.” 
“I-” She started again, and she stopped when she saw Harry’s brow quirk into an arch, daring her to lie to him. A threat gleamed in his eyes, and she swallowed. “I just don’t feel really… safe.” 
Various emotions played across Harry’s face. Shock. Disbelief. Confusion. A bit of anger, maybe? She can’t really pinpoint them because his eyes are flashing so fast, and then he drops his head back, the veins at the base of his throat pulsing as he inhales deeply and holds it for a few seconds before releasing it.
“Angel,” he rasps, his voice like crackling wood as he looks at again, “do y’know who I am?”
A scrunch appears between her eyebrows. Of course he knew who he was, she had dated him for years. “What are you talking about, H?”
“I mean, darling,” two large hands accompanied with a pinch of cold from the metal on his fingers cup her face, “that you must not know who I am if you feel this way. I’m the leading kingpin of this country’s drug distribution. I run the tightest system of organized crime, and I have more money than God. But first and foremost, baby, I am your lover. Everything I do is to make y’happy, understand me?” 
Harry is pinching face now because she had tried to look down at her lap while he was talking and he wanted to make sure they maintained eye contact while he talked. When he didn’t get an answer right away, he shook her lightly, growling, “Said, do you understand me, y/n?”
Pouty and a little teary eyed, y/n mumbled that she understood. 
“Now,” he released her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “There are more than eighty men in and outside of this building whose sole purpose of the night is to protect you. I have four concealed weapons on my person, and y’know I know how to use them, baby. There’s no need to be scared,” his breath, sweet from the smell of margaritas, becomes y/n’s next inhale the moment he drops his forehead onto hers, and it makes her lightheaded with love. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise” his nose is pressing against her with enough force to turn her head to the side, and when he presses his sticky mouth on y/n’s lips, she’s gasping. 
The sense of insecurity from before is gone the moment Harry grips her close, his half-hard length hot against the inside of her thigh, and the only feeling left of the heat from the drag of his tongue on her bottom lip, the sting of his palm when he claps her thigh and drags her impossibly closer only to mumble against her lips, “y’ready to go now, or do y’need more reassurance?”
She had no other choice but to say yes, because they would never leave if she said no. 
****
No one is passing around a bong, or snorting lines off the glass table in the middle of the lunge like the last few parties y/n went to before she met Harry. This wasn’t that kind of reunion. These were not people looking for a cheap high and a damage-filled nights. 
This kind of party, the one wrapped in red-velvet rope and bouncers checking to see who you knew in the VIP section, was the kind in which people knew how to party without all the excess drama. They were cool, with their whiskey and bourbon, martinis, gin and tonics. The hallucinogens were for all the new players out on the dance floor, creating the ruckus Harry wished to join just for the night. Maybe, y/n though, just to feel young again. But she would never say that to Harry, or out loud, because it wasn’t cool. 
She thinks that maybe Harry wanted to build his buzz a little bit more, because he sat in the center of the couch, the life of the conversation, with his arms curled protectively and securely around her. He’s laughing loudly, his hair is disheveled- strands leaking away from their normal swoop around his face to dangle in front of his eyes. The alcohol in his system is heating his bloodstream, and while it isn’t noticeable to anyone else, y/n can see the smallest hints of perspiration at the back of his neck, and she can feel the abnormal heat of his body seeping through his clothes. It’s making her a little sweaty, and if it weren’t for the smallest bit of doubt still left in there, she would have found an excuse to get up and use the bathroom. 
Louis was at their secluded bar, whispering into the ear of a blonde that was a few inches taller than him, and y/n watched as he coaxed a smile from her, and the nod of her head before they headed to the dance floor. She would more than likely end up there with Harry soon, and she was observing the atmosphere out there. 
The floor, which was made up of lit-up squares that changed in time with the music, was crammed with men and women who all had the same things in common: wealth, cars, social circles, the luxury brands that filled their closets. The women often made such exclusive conversation, that y/n would feel uncomfortable contributing because the only things she knew about luxury was whatever Harry gave her. It made her question her position in his social hierarchy. So much that she preferred the company of his men, the ones meant to protect her. 
Stationed at every entry and exit point where groups of men who flashed guns and ear pieces, they lined the floor above the dance floor, glaring down at everyone and smiling at her when they caught her eyes. 
Y/n was smiling back at Tony, when Harry tugged at her earlobe with his mouth, asking for her attention. 
“Who are you giving those pretty smiles to, angel?” She heard the casual tone in his voice, the playful light induced by the alcohol in his system, but also the dangerous edge that said he wasn’t fucking around. “You should be giving them to me. It’s my birthday.” 
Was he… mad?
Y/n’s eyes dropped down to her lap, where Harry’s palm was spanning on the top of her thigh, pressing into the skin that wasn’t covered by her dress, “Just saw Tony, H. Was saying hello,” she said, hoping it was loud enough to be heard above the thrum of music. 
His mouth still at her ear, body now fully pressed against hers, he chuckled darkly along with his words, “why don’t you say hello to Daddy, hmm?” 
Retreating from her so she could see the wolfish smile on his face, the expectant raise in his eyebrows. It was enough to make her smile, a flush on the apples of her cheeks as she shook her head at him. 
In the middle of mouthing, a retort, collective screaming erupted somewhere in the vicinity, followed by gunshots and the scattering of people. 
The hair at the back of y/n’s hair raised, and in her gut she knew that something was wrong. It was the pitch in screams, the look on people’s faces. But one glance at Harry said that he thought everyone was still partying. He didn’t tense. 
No.
He laughed.
And he was still laughing when something cold and unmistakably dangerous pressed on the back of y/n’s head. She stilled, stiffened, and briefly she thought- this is what it must be like when you’re dead- but all of it vanished when a man came from the shadows, a gun poised and settled at the back of Harry’s head. Only then did Harry act, his gun somehow in his hand in less than a second. 
The music stopped. Someone was wailing. Several guns clicked. Locked. 
“Not a smart move, Styles. Make another move, and six guns will blow your brains out,” the man, tall and sickly looking with a scarred face. His clothes looked cheap, his hands smeared with dirt. 
Y/n’s stomach roiled, and her face felt cold, her hands moist. Behind her, the person with a gun to her head moved the barrel to her temple, wrapped an arm across her shoulders and pulled her away from the circle in Harry’s arm, the burly arm roughly constricting her airway so that her hands flew up to claw it away. Her first instinct was to gasp as she struggled, but y/n also knew that she needed to preserve as much oxygen as she could because she had no idea if the guy choking her would stop anytime soon. Confused about what was happening and who this man was, y/n looked to Harry for some kind of direction, and found that he was already watching her with the scariest look she had ever seen him wear. 
Eyes that were normally emerald green were obscured by darkness, a pitch black that reflected his mood. His jaw was clenched, and so was the fist around his gun, knuckles white from the grip he had on it. Y/n recognized his tense posture, back straight as he faced her, his other hand splayed on the back of the couch, twitching. His gun was pointed at legs, still from the man’s order. His eyes were locked on hers, unflinching 
Trying to tell her something. 
She recognized the look. It was the same one- a more feral version of it- he would give her when he was two seconds away from throwing her over her lap and spanking her until his handprint was a permanent tattoo on her bum because he had instructed her to remain motionless and she was squirming. He was telling her not to move. 
“What the fuck kind of birthday gift s’this, Mr. Fisher?” Harry asked, his voice a deadly threat. A cat who was still as a statue, and the only part that would alert you of his oncoming pounce was the twitching tail. Harry’s thrumming fingers on the couch cushion. 
Y/n kept watching him all the while he turned his head to look at the scrawny man. Fisher. She didn’t recognize the name, but from the nature of the situation she assumed that he was a rival, and time had come for her to get wrapped up in some kind of mess.
Harry kept her as isolated from his work as he could, but they both knew deep, deep down that one day this would happen. That gut feeling that she had at the start of the night wasn’t a premonition, it was that minuscule sense of insecurity that had always been there when it came to the nature of her life. She didn’t hate Harry, or love him any less. 
She just knew this would happen. 
The funny part is, she wasn’t even scared of dying. It wasn’t even the thought on the forefront of her mind. Instead, she was thinking of Harry. How was he going to get out of this? How was he going to get them both out of this. She wanted to make sure she was in tune with him, that she was in on his plan so she wouldn’t mess it up and they would make it out alive, but what was the plan?
Fisher laughs, “the best kind, Mr. Styles. The one that ensures you won’t have any more birthdays. Now, I’ll let you pick who goes first. You?” He jerks the gun in y/n’s direction, and a definitive click rings above her left ear. “Or the bitch?”
“Don’t fucking call her that you peice of shit,” Harry all but snarled, his chest rising with tension from his restraint. Y/n wanted to tell him that he wasn’t being particularly smart with his words, if his statements only protected her honor and no her life, but she only gulped.
Fisher laughed. “Drop the gun, or the girl goes.” He moved his thumb, and a bullet locked into place. “Now.”
He glanced at her, his look hard as his jaw ticked. Resigned, Harry threw the gun down. “What do you want?” 
“I came to eliminate the competition, and that’s what I’ll do. But first, I think I’ll enjoy watching you watch her die, just how you enjoyed taking everything from me”
“You’re a bad businessman, Fisher. Not my fault, and definitely not hers either. She knows nothing!”
“You’re a bad businessman, Fisher. Not my fault, and definitely not hers either. She knows nothing!” Harry’s shaking now, veins on his neck protruding. A ticking time bomb. 
“Am I supposed to believe that?” He walks over to her and caresses her face with a rough, dirty hand. “You spend every minute that you are not working attached to her hip, and you’re telling me she has picked up nothing? Liar.” Y/n moves her face, desperate to get away from the man, but he only jerks her roughly. “C’mon, gorgeous. If you tell me something good, I’ll let you sit in my lap, too.”
She can’t think of anything to say but, “I don’t want to sit in your lap.” 
“Fine.” Fisher’s mouth presses into a line, and he releases her, turning and waving his gun in the air. “I’ve given both of you a chance. Do it, Richard.” 
Her mouth moved, her eyes locked onto green emeralds that were less panicked than hers. I love you.
And blinked.
Gunshots rang as quickly as they did the first time, and Harry was a mere smear of motion, exploding with the energy simmering in him before. Someone wrenched the man holding y/n, and by consequence, she was jostled too. There was a flash of pain on the underside of her chin because she hadn’t been directly out of the knife points touch when her handler was yanked from her, and there was her heart pounding pounding pounding because everything was moving too fast, the lights weren’t bright enough, and she couldn’t keep track of who was good, who was bad. Another gun went off mortifyingly close to her and several hands grabbed at the fabric at her ankle, waist, and hips, and there was snarling. 
Get your hands off her.
Fucking grab her.
Don’t let them out of your sight.
The arm that wrapped around her waist encased her, and a part of her calmed because it was familiar. 
“‘Got you, baby,” Harry rasped at her ear, and her heart slowed. He had managed to snag a gun, probably one of the many hidden on his person. Her head snapped to look at him, and even though he was speaking to her, his gaze was all over the room, gun raised and held near his head, pointing up as he searched for an exit, “everything’s gonna be fine, just do as I say. Nod if you understand,” he looked at her then. Y/n nodded, her face like a ghost’s. “We are going to run. Now.”
He half-hauled her as they moved, shooting at people that turned corners a mere second after Harry held his aim. Y/n didn’t want to look. It was grotesque, jarring. A little eye-opening, as this was the reality of Harry’s job. But she had to keep moving, had to try extra hard to keep pace with Harry, so she kept her gaze forward. 
“Boss!” 
They were at an intersection of halls. And at the end of the one on their right, standing in the doorway of an exit, was Tony. Harry let y/n go so that she could run ahead, and he lagged behind her to shoot at men that were coming from the other two halls. 
It was almost as if he read her mind, because as her steps slowed and her head started to move Harry shouted, “Don’t look back, y/n!” 
But it was too late. It was too late because there was someone behind him, and his finger was- 
there was a bullet and-
“Harry!” 
Y/n ran. Not the direction Harry wanted her to. Launched herself before Harry even had the chance to open his arms and catch her but it was fine because that was the point. 
To get him out of the direct line of the bullet’s flight. That was her only thought. Then of course, there was the thought of living without him when he had saved her, but it was fleeting. Her heart was pounding, her ears ringing, and it was the first time that she realized how close life and death was for them. The look in his eyes when she ran towards him said it all. A repetition of holy fuck holy fuck holy fucking shit in tune with the incantation of her breath and heart.
She heard him curse and embrace her as they landed. His arm moved at her side, and another bullet went off. His, she presumed by the way his arm recoiled. Her eyes closed shut and she gripped him, afraid of moving because of the unknown everything coming at them. Harry picked them both up, and shook her, shouting something but y/n’s ears were still ringing. She only saw his finger pointing, and Tony at the end of the hall with the door wide open. 
Y/n began running again, if the way Harry gently pushed her was any indication of what he wanted her to do.
Tony caught her rattled body, muttered an apology and threw her into a vehicle. Then he ran to the front seat and started the car. 
Y/n, concerned for her lover’s well being croaked, “what about-”
Tony shook his head as a way of silencing her. “He’ll get here, miss. Just give him a second.” 
A few seconds later that same door slammed open again, a panting Harry emerging and jumping into the car. 
“Drive. Drive to whichever safe house y’can think of, and don’t stop.”
“Yes, sir.” 
“Fuck,” Harry swore. His hands fumbling like a flock of birds taking off, all over her. “Fuck, darlin’ are you okay?” 
Y/n nodded, but couldn’t stop her lip from trembling, her hands from reaching out to him. Harry clutched at her again, moving her to sit on his lap and with a hand at the back of her head, led her to rest her forehead on the crook of his shoulder. I love you’s and I’m sorry’s got lost from his mouth in her hair, and the silent tears that fell from her eyes dribbled down to be what cleaned the cut on her chin. 
The rest of the car ride was a blur. Maybe she fell asleep. Maybe her eyes were closed and her thoughts were too wild to comprehend. Maybe they walked out at some point, into a house hidden in shrubbery and an old man who unlocked another hidden door for them, all while Harry and Tony kept looking behind their shoulders and maybe they split ways to sleep and reconvene in the morning. 
Maybe Harry kissed her and kissed her as they walked somewhere, nearly crying. Maybe they were her tears he tasted. Maybe.
She didn't know.
There was only this. The tumbling of their bodies into a room. Minds in a mess of selfish possessiveness. 
Harry, harry, harry.
Y/n, y/n, y/n. 
They were in a trance, animals in need of preserving their life and survival, hormones awry with the need to touch- skin to bare skin. With every murmur of the other’s name, Harry throwing in a pet name every other call and y/n whispering the lone Daddy, an article of clothing melted from their bodies by the heat of their hands that roamed over their frames. Y/n hands like butterflies on his broad shoulders, Harry’s fingers like a hazardous python lazing across her navel and up, up, up to her breasts and shoulders. 
Dancing around each other, they draped across the bed, and y/n was incoherent. She wasn’t making any sense because her mind couldn’t keep up with her mouth, it was too busy sending instructions to the body parts beneath Harry’s touch, urging the skin to become pliant beneath him, to push up against him. To spread her thighs to accommodate the width of his hips. Only dimly did she come to register his rough words spilling with urgency as he lined himself at her soaked pussy, spoken like commands and prayers, begging. 
“Never want to see you do that shit again, darling girl. So what if I’m dead? If you had died, my world would have lost it’s sun. I would have lost my God, y/n. I would have been miserable without you. My sweetest honey, my softest little dove,” he pressed a reverent kiss on her temple, his voice breaking with emotion, “you can live a life without me, but I cannot live a life without you, okay?” Harsh breaths broke across her mouth and chin, the raw tone of voice seeping like honey in tea and dissolving sluggishly into her skin. Y/n was lightheaded, her eyes closed and the back of her head rubbed loose figure eights into the pillowcase. 
And then it was like a switch flipped inside him, and he was stern. Serious. Like he needed her to understand. Did she- “understand what I’m sayin, baby? Hmm?” Harry slowly pushed into her, the head of his dick stretching and filling her with every inch of movement. They can never seem to not want this- to not want sex. Being connected this way was something they wanted all the time, so they did. All the fucking time. Yet, y/n couldn’t seem to get used to his size, the way he pressed up against her walls like he would make her burst apart like a fragile glass compartment if he was any bigger. 
Physically, y/n couldn’t manage to say that she understood, and maybe she didn’t really. Too much had happened that day, the shooting, the near end of his life, their near separation, and all she wanted was release. She wanted it so bad that the ache of it was starting to hurt. 
So, she just nodded, her eyes shut and her body arching underneath him. Against him. Trying to get him to move because every part of her was on fire and she desperately wanted him to put it out. 
But y/n should know better. Harry didn’t come to play. It was the reason why he led a drug ring so successfully. Because everyone listened to him when he asked for something, or else they would face the consequences. And she was not exempt from those expectations. Especially not her. 
Twin pricks of pain sprouted on her chin where Harry held her still, expectantly, his green gaze boring into hers with a single cocked brow as he waited for her to correct herself and allowing her reprieve from a future punishment. His hips stilled, halting their leisurely inch towards bottoming out, abs flexing as they worked to both, stop his movements, and hold his upper body above her with the help of his arm. His knees were planted beneath her thighs, her legs thrown over his so that she had no way to back way or shut him out, but she was able to tighten her hold around his hips and attempt to hike herself up to encourage him to continue fucking into her.  But, the moment she thrust her hips upward, Harry pulled back so that his cock left her completely, remnants of her arousal glistening on his tip and on where he rubbed against the skin below his belly button. 
“Answer me,” the two words were scarily devoid of emotion, the blank slate of his voice not reflecting the stern set of his face, with eyebrows dipped low enough to crinkle his forehead. The set of his mouth and a strained vein in his neck didn’t even begin to bring alive the desperate animal that prowled the cage of his ribs, stalking nothing but restless from the previous threat. Some part of him was still frantic, anguished and overcome with the need to possess her, own her, as if the pleasure he gave her would equate to the nurturing aspect of providing safety and trust. Harry felt as if it was all his fault, and the only way to convey how sorry he was, how much he loved her, was through showing her. 
“Yes,” she whimpered, hips dropping back into the mattress defeatedly. Her nails dragged up his biceps, attempting to calm herself and get a reaction out of it. Y/n was also... lost in the muddle of feelings that were thundering in her system. Fear, both for her life and Harry’s, the primal instinct to surround herself with him, to be consumed by him so that his imprint will stay on her forever, so that even if they were to be separated, reminders of him would be forever on her. 
In her. 
When her eyes began to droop closed from the overwhelming nature of her need, the painful edge of it making her feel helpless, Harry jostled her chin softly and asked, “yes, who?”
“Yes, daddy,” the words were out of her mouth before she could even think about it. 
“That’s what I fucking thought,” Harry’s voice was once again filled with sensual aggression, lips curling around his words in a near snarl that made her breath hitch at the bottom of her throat and her nails dig into the thickness of his biceps that strained with the force of his thrust. He sunk into her in one fluid movement, bottoming out without allowing y/n to adjust and causing a long quivering moan to creep from her mouth. Millions of tiny blossoms of pleasure spread on her skin and bones like a droplet of water being absorbed, growing in size and collecting to join in one massive blanket of euphoria. 
Oxygen was missing from her next inhale, but y/n didn’t care. In fact, it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She always needed more when it came to Harry, even when she knew that more meant possible breaking like the piece of glass he thought she was. The tips of her breasts scorched a trail on his chest when she arched off the bed asking for, “more, please. It’s not enough, daddy. I need more.”
Harry chuckled, a dark, deep noise that vibrated around her and tickled her skin. He sat back on his haunches, still deep inside her, and slid his hands underneath her knees and pulled them up together, so that they lay over his shoulder. The repositioning tightened the space between her thighs, and heightened the full feeling that came with having him buried completely in her pussy. Shakily, because y/n knew this position was dangerous for both of them, she dug her nails into his flexing thighs that were right beneath her legs, waiting for him to move. Waiting for more. This was a position they had only tried twice before. The first time, she had asked him to stop because the angle was too much, the second time she had received as a punishment that ended with her screaming in pleasure and by the end of it, limp and trembling on the bed and Harry kissed her all over and wiped himself of her with a washcloth. 
“This is gonna hurt, little girl,” stroking a hand down from her ankle to her knees, thighs, and up her stomach to twist her nipple between his fingers, Harry smirked down at her, his expression containing no humor. “Remember that you asked for this. M’only giving you what you want,” taking hold of her in the crease where her legs met her hips, he pulled out halfway and pushed back into her, not gently, just to watch her face contort into one of pain and pleasure. 
Y/n threw her head back and mumbled something incoherent, her eyes shutting and neck straining from the sensations that were taking over her being. Vaguely does she register something along the lines of ‘yes, yes, yes, more’, but it all withers into the red-hazed tangible love that drowned all of the receptors in her neurological region. The deep, erratic breaths pulling through her lungs sunk the sink around her ribs and only added to the crazed air around her. She was taken by what Harry was giving her, and Harry was chasing after her attention, grinding himself down so that his balls sat on the crevice of her ass and the tip of his dick stroked something deep between her. Anything and everything around them was lost. The only thing that mattered was them. Him. Her. The way it felt as if Harry was intruding in the most delicious way possible, as if every thrust was the last one she would be able to take from him. 
“This is what you want, darlin’ angel? Am I takin’ care of you right?”
“Yes. It’s so good, H. So good, daddy.” 
“I’m the only one that’s going to take care of you this way, baby. The only one who knows that this-'' he made as if he was going to retreat from her, drawing himself nearly all the way out before abruptly pounding back into her so her ass sunk down into the mattress. A cry escaped her when the force of Harry’s movements reached a notch inside her, and an even longer, broken whimper when he made small plunges into her so that the head of his cock repeatedly rubbed against her g-spot, “-is the place that makes you purr like a little fuckin’ kitty. Did you really think I would leave y’so easily, darling? Think I would leave your cunt aching with no one to take care of it, hmm? It’s always going to be-” his hips retreated, and slapped back into her, the force of his thrust stealing her breath,“-me, darling. I’m right here and I’m-” the next tilt pressed her hips deep into the mattress, and her nails dug into his skin. Her breath kept escaping her because her lungs couldn’t keep up with the symphony of sensations that was racking through her body, centering where they connected. He plunged into her again,“-never leavin’ you.”
Y/n wasn’t sure what was coming out of her mouth, only that her mouth was dragged open in a scream- she didn’t know if it was silent. She couldn’t focus on anything else but Harry’s grunts as he gyrated his hips against hers, no longer moving in and out of her but rather, smothering his skin against hers, trying to bury deeper into her drilling against her core that was filled with him. It felt as though he was invading the deepest parts of her, like she wouldn’t be able to feel right without him inside her again. The head of his cock was a constant pressure on that bundle of nerves, and he was rubbing against her with such force that they were slowly moving up the bed. His hands let her legs fall apart, and they curled around her hips with his guidance. She gasped at the sudden change, the opening of pussy that allowed him to somehow drive deeper than before, and she moved her hands from the backs of his thighs to his biceps, which came to cage her and Harry braced his hands beside her head. Knocking his nose against hers, Harry licked into her mouth before nipping her lips and devouring her in a kiss.
A distraction, she realized, because he began that punishing pace again.
“Daddy, please. Please, I want- I- I- I need-,” she began to whimper, so lost in her pleasure that kept building, and building, and building, but wouldn’t drop over that precipice. Dimly, it occurred to her that she didn’t know what she needed. Every thought escaped her with every drag of Harry’s cock. He moved slowly now, so that his abdominal muscles clenched and unclenched as his hips flexed, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her stutter.
“Baby can’t think right now, is that it?” His thumb traced her bottom lip, and her tongue lazily came out to lave at it. It was exactly what he wanted her to do, and as soon as she did he roughly hooked her chin open. “Want me to do all the work for you? I wasn’t lying when I said I knew that your sweet little pussy needs, baby. Now open. Wide.”  He waited for her to open her mouth, “leave it open. If you close it, you don’t get to cum. Understand?”
Y/n nodded, the need to cum shutting down all of her rational thinking. Her nerves were fraying, the rub of silk against her body every time he thrust into her was driving her insane. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight of Harry above her, his mouth nearly in a snarl as he focused on her, eyebrows pinched and his emerald eyes nearly black. He withdrew and began fucking into her with more force than speed, earning a breathless gasp from her each time they connected.
Then, when her head started to tilt back and her thighs were straining with tell-tale quivers, Harry dipped down and collected the saliva in her mouth with his tongue moaning deeply as the taste of her exploded across his taste buds, and spit it back into her own mouth. He felt his balls draw up at the way she immediately swallowed, and her face pinched with a pained look. Her pussy tightened around him like an unforgiving vise, and a cry left her as she let her orgasm rake through her body.
Harry continued his thrusting, allowing his own climax to pour over him as he buried his dick in her. It exploded over him, on him, in him, and all of the emotions he had felt that day came to their culmination, releasing in resolution. He was with his love, he was there, and they were sharing a beautiful thing. His arms held him above her quivering form, her pussy still milking him and broken little sobs were seeping out of her lips, tears sliding down to the pillows from the corners of her eyes.
She felt it, too. They were tender, tethered to each other and overwhelmed with each other.
“I know, my love,” Harry whispered to her, breathless. A grunt left him as he dipped his head down to her neck and kissed her collarbone, her jugular, and the spot behind her ear before nibbling on her lobe. “I love you, y/n. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
He grabbed her limp hand, and placed it over his heart, “You live here, do you understand me? I don’t have a heart, darling, I have you. You’re my reason for breathing, for the blood in my veins. C’mon now, no more tears, little girl.”
Y/n was whimpering, keening into his touch as he wiped her tears away with his fingers. They had twisted to their sides, still connected. She felt soft. Not vulnerable, but naked in the best way. Like he was looking into the deepest parts of her soul, and so was she. She felt like wispy pink skin, tinted with the cold air. Inexplicably, y/n had fallen in love with Harry all over again. Like she had met a new version of him at that moment. She wanted to tell him that her life was as long as it was because of him, but all she could manage was a weak, wet, “I love you so much, Harry.”
They fell asleep that way, still tangled in one another, grasping each other’s hands. Tangled, in more ways than one. 
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gurugirl · 8 months
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would you every write a gangrry/mafia fic? one where he’s really sweet to Y/N and but everyone else he’s a dick to. 🥹
I have two in my masterlist already! So yes :)
This one and this one. Both have extras with them so make sure you read those too!
They are both different stories but in both Harry is only sweet to Y/n and no one else.
xoxo
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hsgucci94 · 1 year
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Hurting
Summary: The one where Y/N gets hurt for being the girl of a mafia leader and Harry makes them pay with their lives.
Content warnings: mention of violence. A part from that, i’d say this one’s pretty clean
Part 1 of His weakness, a mafia!harry short story.
A/N: by no means I’m trying to romanticise this lifestyle, it’s pure fiction x
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By the time Y/N rang Harry’s doorbell, the pain had only increased. Her hand was pressed against her hip, fingers deep in her skin trying to alleviate the stabbing pain that came from it as her face turned into a grimace. One that she hid as soon as her boyfriend opened the front door.
“Thought you’d never come,” Harry greeted her, chuckling, as he moved away from the door to let her into his house. She smiled, walking pass him and towards the couch, ready to let her body fall onto it and rest.
“Yeah, parking in this neighbourhood is always a challenge, you know that. So I’ve spent some good twenty minutes driving around,” she replied, half lying. That one part was true, though: she always found a parking spot a few blocks away from his, but never any nearer by, so she ended up having to go to his house by feet.
That day in particular, however, she managed to park almost immediately, so she should have knocked on his door much sooner, which they made sure she did not. Just when she got out of her car, five hooded guys appeared out of nowhere. She didn’t recognise them, not only because the streets were dark, but also because she had actually never seen them before. She just knew they were there as a threaten; by hurting her they would make sure their message would get to Harry Styles, who not only was her lover, but also the head of the mafia. So that was what those strangers did; they threw her to the sidewalk and kicked her body until she couldn’t move anymore. She tried to defend herself, but they outnumbered her.
Y/N didn’t know how or when, but she had suddenly become a collateral damage of her partner’s businesses.
Harry smiled in her direction and stretched his hand to grab her before she could reach the sofa. Her tattooed arm wrapped around her abdomen, pulling her in for a hug. With her back to him, Y/N instinctively closed her eyes the moment she felt his touch on her aching skin. Her teeth clenched from the pain, but she didn’t say a word.
“Did I do something, woman?,” he chuckled again, and turned her around so that their faces were one in front of the other, “Don’t I get a kiss today?,” he smirked, and grabbed her chin between his fingers, before pressing his lips on hers. His other hand found the hem of her sweater and sneaked under it, resting on her hip. The sole gesture made Y/N hold her breath, her stomach contracting from the pain, and Harry noticed.
He pulled away enough to properly see her face, his hands no longer touching her. “What’s wrong, baby?,” he frowned, and waited for her to answer. She took some time to scan his face, debating wether to tell him or not. She may have taken way too much because Harry grabbed the ends of the fabric and lifted it enough to see her abdomen before she could even realise what he was doing.
His eyes widened, his jaw clenching right after. He immediately knew what had happened. “I’ll fucking kill them,” he hissed, blood boiling in his veins.
Y/N gulped, moving Harry’s hands and pulling the sweater back down. His eyes then moved up to her, and his gaze softened.
“I’m fine, it’s just-,” she quickly replied, trying to play the matter down.
But Harry didn’t let her do so. “Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?” he asked her, “Come here. Lay on the couch.”
She did as told, while Harry went to the bathroom to pick his first-aid kit. When he came back, Y/N could see by the look on his face he was furious. His eyebrows were deeply frown, and his eyes a dark green. He kneeled in front of her, the kit open by his side and ready to be used.
“Harry…, it’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is,” he spat, pulling at his hair in frustration. He then remembered Y/N was not to blame and that his anger shouldn’t be directed to her, and calmed down. “They shouldn’t know about you, Y/N,” he sighed. For the past months he had made sure to keep her a secret, not wanting anyone to touch a single inch of her. But he seemed to have failed such easy task because someone had definitely found about her and used her to hurt him, which they succeeded in. He bended over her cautiously, kissing her lips, “I’m sorry…, I’m sorry, baby, I’ve never wanted to put you in danger.”
“I’m fine…, I just need some rest,” she flashed him a soft smile and he nodded, wanting to believe her words.
“I need to take off your sweater first. I’m gonna treat your wounds and feel your abdomen to make sure everything’s fine, alright?” She nodded, and leaned in enough for Harry to pull the fabric out of her. When she rested her back again on the couch, she couldn’t help but clench her teeth in pain once more. “You’re okay now, sweet girl, I’m gonna take care of you,” he assured her, leaving a tender kiss to her shoulder.
She had scratches all over her hips and stomach, and on her elbows, as well. He passed a piece of gauze over her wounds and disinfected them, watching her tense from the stinging. Then, he cautiously palpated her ribs and abdomen, looking for signs of broken bones or possible haemorrhages.
“Harry,” she groaned uncomfortably.
“I know it hurts, baby. I’m being as careful as possible, I promise.”
“That one spot hurts so bad,” she whined a few seconds later, grabbing his wrist to stop him from touching it more, “I think there’s something broken there.” And it did look like she had a couple of ribs more damaged than expected, which made Harry frown hard, worried.
“I’m gonna dress that spot, okay? I’ll call my friend Sam to come check it out first thing in the morning,” he replied, regretting not being able to do more for her. Taking her to the hospital was not a viable option.
As soon as Harry had wrapped the bandage around her rib cage, he entwined his hand with hers, lifting it to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
“That was scary,” she mumbled, the images of what happened coming back to her. She had always felt safe both with or without him near her, but now she feared something bad could happen to her if he wasn’t there to stop it. Harry moved his eyes from her hand to her face, his countenance softening even more after hearing her words.
“It won’t happen again, you’ve got my word.” Because if there was someone he was willing to protect with his life, that was her, his precious girl.
*
“Indeed,” Sam concluded, looking at Y/N, “You have two fractured ribs, but nothing that can’t be fixed with rest and some painkillers. Do not lift weight or perform any other activity that could cause you pain or increase your discomfort. You’ll get back to normal within the next two months.”
Sam smiled and she did, too, happy with the prognosis.
"Anything else?" Sam asked, turning to look at Harry.
He shook his head, one of his hands tucked under his armpit, while his free one picked at his bottom lip. He had that same posture throughout Y/N’s entire checkout, a bit uneasy in case his friend would find something disturbing in her body. “No, that was all. Thanks, mate."
Sam nodded and squeezed his shoulder goodbye before heading towards the door. He already knew the way out of that house. Now that he was a recently graduated doctor, Harry counted on him whenever one of his guys were injured or needed a checkout.
The two youngsters knew each other since preschool, the fact that Sam was a doctor was just a bonus.
“See? It’s not a big deal,” Y/N turned to look at Harry, a triumphant smile between her lips. Just like him, she was relieved, too, to know that her pain was temporary. She then patted on the empty spot next to her, asking him with that simple gesture to lay with her on his king-size bed.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he admitted, letting out the sigh he hadn’t realised he had been holding in until then.
He walked to the bed, taking his shoes off. But before climbing in with her, he took his phone out of the front pocket of his sweatpants.
Nothing, no text messages. So he slid it back where it was; not without wrinkling his nose first in disappointment.
As soon as he laid on the bed, Y/N snuggled next to him, making a painful grimace while doing so, “Ah, shit. I need these painkillers to begin to take effect soon.”
Harry chuckled, passing an arm around her shoulders and caressing the side of her head. “Take it easy, baby. Sam said that for it to be good, the recovery must be slow.” She huffed and puffed, so he added: “Sam didn’t say this but I do: patience is key. So please, do not exasperate. It’ll all pass by quicker than you think.”
She clicked her tongue at his words, not so sure about them, “These will be the longest two months of my life.”
“Probably,” Harry admitted, and turned his body to the side enough to be facing her, their faces just inches apart, “But I’ll be here with you and I’ll take care of you, and you won’t have to worry about anything but your recovery, alright?”
She nodded, thanking him with her eyes.
“Good,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “Now get some sleep. You barely rested last night because of the pain, I know you’re exhausted.”
“I am,” she replied, fighting back a yawn.
She clinched harder to him, considering wether to ask the question or not. She was not very sure if the answer would satisfy her, but she let the words out anyway.
“Will you still be here when I wake up?” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, but even then he could tell the fear in her voice.
He clenched his jaw, hating to know the previous night’s event were the reason behind it. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I’m on house arrest with you until further notice,” he joked, trying to erase her worries.
She giggled and kissed his cheek loudly before drifting off to sleep.
Harry stood there, trying his best not to move much to not wake her nor her pain up.
He didn’t know how long he had been holding her against him when his phone vibrated in his pocket. Being as careful as possible, he grabbed it in his hand and clicked on the hidden notification.
When he read the message, he nodded to himself. He felt a weight lifting off his shoulders.
Now he could put his body and mind to rest, too, because no one would dare to hurt his girl and live to tell the tale.
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Part 2
Please, like & share if you liked it? it’ll help so much 🥺✨thanks!! x
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overallrry · 2 years
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harry styles “mafia/gang” fics
✩ all credit to the authors ✩
series
harry is y/n's grumpy neighbor and he has a secret (jawllines)
1 2
Eyes going wide, her hand drops down to her stomach as Harry’s fingers slow some, processing where the noise had come from. She thinks that maybe he’ll ignore it, until he gently inquires, “What’re you going to eat for dinner?”
Y/N shrugs though he’s not looking at her, “Dunno,” she digs dirt out from her fingernail, “Maybe a frozen meal. I’ve got a sesame chicken one.”
“Those are awful for you.” He tells her and Y/N doesn’t know what to say back really, so her mouth falls around a silent ‘oh’ as he finishes up, resetting her alarm, and sliding off the stool. Then he turns to face her, evidently ambivalent about what was to come from him next. Y/N worries for a second that it’d be him saying that he actually did hate her and after this to never bother him, nor make a pitiful attempt at baking cookies at 2AM again.
Instead, he says, “I made a chicken casserole tonight. There’s enough for two people, so I’ll do you up a plate, yeah?”
mine (freedomfireflies)
series masterlist
Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right.
mafia harry x virgin y/n (demolition-lovers)
1 2 3 4
one shots
tpwkxxangel
sleepy baby
jarofstyles
mafia harry being protective
mafia h
soft mafia harry
mafia h making cookies
mafia harry blurb masterpost
harryistheonlyoneforme
perfect
erodasfishtacos
mafia harry one shot masterlist
muffindaddystyles
soft mafia harry smut
protective mafia harry
satanhalsey
gang!harry masterlist
finlinevogue
gang harry blurb masterlist
angleisverba
closer
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Mafia Harry x Virgin Y/n part 4
I’m sorry this took so long, things have been crazy. This should have been out long ago. Thank you for all the support. You can ask or request anything, or just say hi!!!
* Smut
Y/n ran upstairs holding her towel around herself, while Harry walked slowly telling himself he had to be careful she was not like other girls he had been with she was was a virgin and he had to remember that , to go slow and make sure she was comfortable throughout the experience. So Harry had to calm himself as he walked towards y/n’s bedroom. Silently chanting to himself “she is a virgin, she is a virgin. Knowing if anyone heard him they would think he had gone crazy, which makes him chuckle.
When Harry entered the room he couldn’t help but smile at y/n laying on the bed, she looked so nervous he couldn’t help wanting to take care of her and make this as good as he could for her knowing a girls first time wasn’t always what it was made out to be in stories. Most girls don’t cum their first time so he isn’t aiming to make her cum through sex.
Y/n smiled up at Harry as he moved closer to the bed. “You ok doll? Still want to do this.” Y/n nodded, but Harry shook his head. “Need to hear it baby.” Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. “Yes, yes I’m ready. Just a kinda nervous but I guess that’s normal, right?” He gave her a soft smile “Yes love, it’s normal. I want to talk to you for.a second. I’m sure you have read books and stories about a virgin girl fucking, sorry, sorry, I mean having sex for the first time.” He smirked at her “Old habits love.” Y/n giggled at this an it seemed to lighten the mood for both of them. She looked at him to continue. “It’s not really normal for the girl to cum.”
Y/n stared at him with understanding coming to her. “ I get it” Be bent down capturing her lips in a searing kiss. “Don’t get me wrong baby, I’m still gonna make you feel good, and next time when I fuck you I’ll make you cum so hard you will beg me to stop..” he looked her dead in the “but I won’t” This made her gasp. Harry used this to add his tongue to their kiss, while he was positioning himself over her body.
Holding himself up with one arm he used his other hand to remove the towel she still had around her. He had slowly moved to kissing down her jaw, to her neck, then back up to her ear. “So pretty baby girl, is your pussy gonna be nice and wet for me.” She shivered and nodded. “Oh you like when I talk to you baby.” “Yes” she whispered out. “Good to know, so I have a filthy little virgin under me.” He growled. “grab the bedpost behind you and don’t let go, understand.” She nodded “ok” he smirked at her “good girl.”
Oh god y/n never thought someone calling her a good girl would turn her on so much, maybe it was just because it was Harry, but fuck she could listen to him call her that for the rest of her life, which is another scary thought.
Her thoughts quickly pulled from her when Harry’s lips found their way around her nipple sucking lightly at first then turning harsher to bring her nipple between his teeth biting down. Y/n gasped, he quickly soothed it with his tongue, his fingers pulling and tugging at her other nipple till it started to move down her stomach. His fingers finding her wetness and running two of his fingers through her wet lips and dragging it up to her clit. She moaned feeling her body stimulated, his mouth sucking on her breasts and his fingers circling her clit.
One thing y:n was sure of was that Harry knew what he was doing, and she felt a twinge of jealousy even though she knows she has no right to, she’s surprised by how quickly she feels the bubbling her her tummy. “Harry, I think I’m gonna cum.” She breathed out. “Yeah baby, your gonna cum from just me rubbing your little clit?” He teased her. Y/n felt embarrassed and turned her head into the pillow, Harry realized he fucked up, she was so new to all this. “Baby” he said lifting his head to look at her. “Look at me sweat heart, that isn’t a bad thing i fact I love it. It just shows how responsive you are to me.” Y/n smiles shyly at him. She is about to cum since he never stopped his constant attention to her clit even while talking to her. “Cum baby.” He told her, then bent down to kiss her. Y/n moaned loudly and shook in his arms. Harry kissed her face as she came down giving her a moment to regroup.
Y/n looked up at him with glossy eyes. “You still wanna do this baby?” She looked in his eyes knowing if she changed her mind her would not fault her and that made her more sure of her decision. “Yes, please Harry I want you.” He smiled and got off the bed so he could remove his clothes, y/n watched as he discarded his shirt, pants and finally is boxers. Her eyes bulging some she had given him a blowie, but looking at him now she wasn’t sure he would fit.
Harry saw her face and laughed.” Your gonna be ok baby, I promise.” as he moved to himself back over her body again. Giving her a kiss that knocked her breath out of her lungs. He then sat back on his heels stroking his huge cock and eyeing her pussy with dark lustful eyes.
“I’m gonna fuck you now baby girl.” He said as he moved his cock towards her entrance, suddenly stopping “fuck a condom.” He gritted out. “It’s ok I’m on the pill, and obviously clean.” She spit out to stop him. “Are you clean?” She asked quietly “ Always use a condom, you’d be the first without one love, an yeah I’m clean get tested every other month.” She nodded “ok then if your ok without one so am I.”
Harry knew he was getting feelings for this girl something he made a habit to never do, but he couldn’t deny his heart swelling looking at her in such a vulnerable position. He wanted to make her his, to keep her an never let her go. Y/n was Harry’s and that meant a lot of things but she didn’t need to find out about that right now, there would be a time for her to learn his rules.
Harry lined his hard cock up with her pussy again. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard in his life, and for once he’s glad he doesn’t have to worry about getting someone else off because he knows this isn’t gonna take long.
He bends down to kiss y/n while his cock starts to work its way inside her. Y/n gasps when he has made the few inches of his cock inside, stopping himself to give her a minute. He softly rubs the pad of his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “You ok baby?” He asked looking down into her innocent eyes and he knows again that he will never let her go.
“I’m ok you can keep going.” He gave her a are you sure look that had her confirming “yeah I’m good.” He pushed in further he knew she was in some pain but when he looked at her she shook her head.”Don’t stop, please keep going I’m ok just wanna do this.” Harry cupped the back of her neck so he could bring her up for another kiss as he pushed in all the way.
Both of them panting and trying to catch their breath but for totally different reasons. He rested his forehead on hers and kissed her nose.
“Your so fucking tight, I’m not gonna last.” He said through harsh breaths. “I’m gonna move, on?” Y/n nods her approval and Harry pulled back and pushed back into her with some force and continued finding a rhythm. “Letting me be the first to have this pretty little pussy.” He thrusts became faster “This cunt is mine, and only mine. “ “You are mine.” He growled out to her not asking for a answer from y/n and she knew that.
I’m gonna cum, gonna fill this pussy up until it’s dripping down to your ass. Fuck baby, fuck fuck.” He spat thru gritted teeth. His thrusts getting sloppy, his body stiffened and shook as he came inside her.
Dropping into her body to catch his breath but only ending up laughing when y/n started pushing at his chest. “Omg your to heavy I can’t breath get off.” She whined and her rolled off of her but grabbing her around the waist to bring her into his side. Y/n smiles laying her head on Harry’s chest. “You ok baby?” He asked softly.
“Yes, a little sore but ok.” She smiled. “It’s gets better trust me.” he smirked and she nodded understanding that they would be doing this a lot and the thought made her excited to see what was to come.
They laid in each other’s arms until Harry broke the silence “Don’t think I forgot about taking you over my knee.” Y/n looked up at him shocked. Harry bent down and pecked her lips”you still deserve a spanking baby.” Y/n just put her head back on his chest there was no reason to argue it was Harry and what Harry wanted Harry got.
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Compromised One Shot - All About Family ^**
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Harry finally goes to meet and check in on Y/N's family. I really love how this one turned out! And I also really love the smut, it's very romantic but hot!
WC: 8.1k
Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy struggles, grief, mentions of death and suicide, daddy kink smut.
Full Fic Masterlist
Being married hadn’t really changed the dynamic between Harry and Y/N, the biggest difference over their four months of being married was that their sex lives had morphed to include actual baby-making sessions when she was ovulating. Harry had yet to get Y/N pregnant and it did weigh a little bit on them. When he got checked everything seemed to be normal, the doctor just told him that maybe it wasn’t the right time yet. And when Y/N got checked she was told that it might be a little while before she could actually get pregnant. She had been on birth control since the age of 13 - she was now 30 - her hormones were trying to rebalance themselves without the help of birth control; it would take time for her body to be prepared for a successful pregnancy. The doctor was very kind, but candid even about the increased possibility of miscarriages the first couple times, Y/N was alright hearing it, but Harry squeezed her hand with nerves. Y/N had gotten off of her pills the week before the wedding and she was aware that it could take some people time to be able to actually get pregnant. Hearing from a professional that these challenges they were having were normal was relieving, so she wasn’t all that worried about it after hearing that but Harry seemed to still be carrying a brunt of the concern.
“Dottorra, sei sicuro? Ci stiamo provando già da quattro mesi.” He told the doctor and she nodded.
“Assolutamente. Tutto sembra normale. Sii paziente.” She smiled and Harry nodded.
“You hear her, it’s fine.” She said to Harry, who nodded, still anxious.
“It can be a couple of months or maybe even a year before it can happen.” The doctor then said in a slightly broken English. She was a sweet woman who liked when they came in because it gave her the chance to practice her English and them their Italian. This made Harry even more nervous and Y/N looked at the state he was in and decided it might be good to know if there was anything she could do to improve her chances.
“Mi consigliate qualcosa per migliorare le nostre possibilità di concepimento?” Y/N proceeded to ask for any recommendations to improve chances of conception and the doctor nodded and gave some supplements and diet recommendations that have been proven to boost egg quality. Healthy egg plus healthy sperm should equal a baby she assured them and with this fresh in their minds they headed home.
“I’m relieved to know there’s not any serious issues.” He said as he hugged Y/N from behind. She was currently grabbing some water and she smiled.
“Told you it was gonna be fine.” She said and he hummed into her shoulder, “Are you sure you’re gonna be fine with a baby though? Gonna have to share me for the rest of our lives.” She pointed out with a grin.
“Baby, it’s 50-50.” He said and she was cracking up in his arms as he said this.
“More like 90-10.” She said after she calmed and he huffed.
“Are you sure about that?” He questioned.
“Definitely, baby, it would need us to survive. Basically gonna be using my body for that the first year at least.” She said.
“It?” He laughed.
“Well, I don’t know what it’ll be!” She defended her phrasing.
“Jesus… Imagine that, an ex-mafia member and an ex-CIA agent coming together and having a kid. The type of parents we’ll be…” He mumbled in disbelief and she smirked.
“Hey, I know plenty of regular people who are horrendous parents. If anything, I think our life experiences are advantages. Besides, our parents did amazing jobs.” She said and he hummed in agreement and a silence fell over them for a second, “You know, we can wait a little more. We don’t have to plan it on purpose, we can just…let it happen when it’s meant to happen.” She said and he nibbled on his lip for a moment.
“We should plan, what if he have a Capricorn baby?” He asked and she laughed again and he grinned at successfully lightening the mood for a second, “Is it selfish of me if I say we should definitely wait a little bit more?” He asked, she was still giggling as she turned to face him and he hoisted her up onto the counter and she draped her arms around his neck.
“No baby, it’s not at all. We need to enjoy and solidify our marriage.” She reasoned, “And also make sure we’re on the same page about what we want for our family. What parenting looks like for each of us and do those styles align and are they proven to be good. What values we want to instill in our child. What kind of person we want them to be…it’s a big job. It’s a commitment, bigger than the one we’ve made to each other. I mean, if you think about it we’re choosing to create an entirely new person to add into the mix of this world and we’re sending them out into that world with the tools we have given them  to navigate it and they can do good, but they can also cause harm…” she said and he started feeling more nervous about it, “Being a parent is the most important job, I think. And if I’m going to be a parent I want to make sure that I’m ready to commit the time I need to, to my child to do the best job for them.” She explained her thoughts and he was slightly pouting now, “Did I freak you out?” She asked and he sighed through a smile.
“Just a little. I hadn’t… thought of it like that before. For me it was more like, I love you so much and I have this primal need to make you a mother, to create more with you. I hadn’t considered any of what you just said before… Is that why you never wanted to have kids?” He asked her and she nodded.
“Yeah, part of it. There’s so much good you can do and people can still go…rogue. I mean, look at me. My parents didn’t raise me in the hopes that I’d become a killer.” She said with a small frown.
“Baby, that’s not even the truth. You’re good, you’re so, so good.” 
“I know I am now, but I wasn’t always.” She said, “And I’ve forgiven myself for it, but I can’t let myself forget.” She reminded and he nodded in understanding.
“I think that’s what would make you the most incredible mum. Learning to love and forgive yourself is not something that many people do successfully.” He said and she hummed, “I think you’re completely right about where your head’s at. In my mind just the idea of being able to get you pregnant and having a little you and me combo is what was exciting for me, but  you’re absolutely right, it’s far more than that. I don’t know it was just a childish and simple little thing in my head, like the obvious next step, you know?”
“I’m an over-thinker, you know that. But you’re not being childish, it’s natural to want just the simplicity of a family, it’s not like you were being careless or making light of it, H. I think we’re meant to feel that need, but the world we live in can make the simplest things vastly complicated.” She shrugged, reassuring him that his reasons for wanting a baby weren’t wrong.
“I’ll tell you one thing that’s not complicated,” she hummed to urge him on, “After this very enlightening conversation I’ve concluded that I’m not nearly ready to share you with anyone. For very selfish and hedonistic reasons.” He whispered as he leaned in to press his lips against hers. They smiled into their kiss and parted again.
“I’m not ready to share you either. Want to enjoy us for a little bit longer.” she confessed and he smiled before delving back in to kiss her.
“Good thing we didn’t buy those supplements.” He mumbled and she laughed into the space between them, “So…do you want to go and fuck?” He asked and she giggled.
“I thought we just agreed to wait.”
“Baby, I said ‘fuck’, not make a baby. We haven’t fucked in a while.” He pointed out.
“How about later?” She asked and he pouted and nuzzled himself against the side of her face.
“Tesoro, non torturarmi in quel modo. Ti voglio così tanto.” He mumbled in Italian against the shell of her ear that she was torturing him and he wanted her so badly and she bit down on her lip, he knew what his speaking Italian did to her.
“I know what you’re trying to do.” She responded in English and he grinned against the line of her jaw, she could feel it.
“Non so di cosa stai parlando.” He played dumb as he softly kissed her jaw.
“Sai come mi sento quando mi parli in italiano.” grabbing him by the hair and pulling him back, their eyes meeting again and he grinned smugly as she reiterated to him that he was well aware of what it did to her when he spoke in Italian to her.
“No, non lo so. Dimmi come ti fa sentire.” He responded that he was not aware and to tell him how it made her feel. His green eyes were already dark with lust for her and she bit her grin back as he studied her face for a moment.
“It makes me feel like strangling you.” She joked as she slid her hands up his throat playfully and he hummed.
“That’s the spirit, but just squeeze a little bit tighter, baby.” He smirked and she rolled her eyes at him as she let her hands slide down to his firm chest, “Why don’t you want to have sex with me?” He asked, fully offended and she smiled.
“I do, just not now. My entire reproductive system was just probed at and honestly that speculum was a little big for me and it hurt a little. I’m still feeling like a specimen or something, it’s not you at all.”
“Oh.” He frowned, “I’m sorry, baby. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“Let’s go for a cuddle.” She said and he smiled.
“Alright, hang on tight my little koala bear.” He warned and she clutched tightly to him as he walked them up to their bedroom. Soon they were plopping onto their bed and he got comfy as she hugged around him, trapping his leg between her legs. 
“What’re you gonna read to me?” She asked. When they cuddled like this he always pulled out a book and read to her so that they could practice their Italian. In their lines of work it was important that they both understood the basics, but living here the past two years, they were both getting more fluent, but being with each other all of the time didn’t really give them enough practice, so this is something they did to learn new words.
“Neruda poems, you tell me what you understand.” He mumbled as he opened up the book and she hummed happily, “Corpo di donna, colline bianche, cosce bianche. Come come il mondo, posseduto nella resa. Il mio corpo selvaggio di operaio ti scava e fa…” he paused,  “…esplodere un figlio dalle profondità della terra.” He cleared his throat and she giggled.
“Is this about getting someone pregnant?” She laughed and he chuckled.
“I think so… I promise that wasn’t on purpose. It’s the first one in this book.” He laughed and she joined him as well.
“Gonna explode a son into the depths of me?” She asked through her laugher and he started howling in laughter with her. They rolled around the bed, stomachs cramping up with how hilarious they found this phrasing and finally it died down and they were catching their breaths.
“Exploding a son into you, that sounds awful.” He panted and she sniggered.
“It does. Anyway, continue.” She hummed with a smile and there was silence as he read on silently.
“Oh, this one’s really horny. I can’t take it seriously.” He mumbled and flipped the page as she giggled. He found a more lovely one and started reading that one instead. She did figure most of it out, but soon he started getting drowsy, as he often did when he read. Especially as the cool breeze billowed through their wide open glass doors that led to their ample balcony. When his vision started blurring a bit he put the book down and kissed the top of her head before cuddling closer to her.
“Ti amo, luce della mia vita.” She whispered and he smiled.
“Love you.” He hummed happily. When she called him that, the light of her life, it made Harry feel on top of the world. For so long he felt that he was nothing but darkness and pain. Knowing that to her, he was as radiant as the sun, it just made his heart burst with joy. He wasn’t sure how else he could express that to her, it was too much love for him to hold inside, “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” He said over and over as he squeezed her close.
When they woke up it was because there was a loud crack of thunder that rattled the windows and glass doors. It was cooler now and the sky was grey as the rain poured down in bucketfuls. The sound was soothing, but she was chilly as was he and they pulled the throw at the end of their bed over their shivering bodies.
“Baby, I’ve been thinking about something.” 
“What is it?” He asked and she bit her lip.
“Ummm, do you think it’s safe enough for you to visit my family now? I’ve been thinking about them a lot and I…I just want to make sure they’re OK.” 
“Yeah, I think we’re alright now. Do you want to go and have me wear a wire or something?” He asked, “How should we do this?”
“No, I don’t want to go. I can’t do it.” She admitted, “Just you. I trust you.”
“OK.” He agreed quietly as his hand smoothed over her tummy.
It was only a few days later that they made the arrangements for him to travel to her hometown. He was only planning to be there two or three days, he also wanted to visit Angelo’s mom on the way back. He was a bit nervous about doing this, but he would of course do anything for her.
*********
Harry had boarded a plane that was soon to touch down in Los Angeles. Now that he was there he felt more anxious about this than before; what if they got upset at him? What if he hurt them more than they were already hurting? Harry was updating  Y/N on his travels and they spoke on the phone the entire drive to her old house where she shared some refresher details about her family to him. 
“Baby, I’m pulling up now.” She breathed out shakily, “Are you sure you don’t want to listen in at least or-”
“No.” She cut in quickly.
“OK. Well, I love you. I’ll let you know what happens.”
“Love you.” She sniffled and how he wanted to wrap her up in a big hug.
“I love you.” He responded and they hung up. He removed his wedding ring and put it in his pocket and took a few deep breaths before he got out of the car he rented and walked up to the front door. The home wasn’t big at all, in fact, it kind of reminded him of his safe house out near his mum’s. But there was that giant magnolia tree out front, the flowers in full bloom from the spring, they looked identical to the ones tattooed on her now and it made him smile. He made it to the door and rung the door bell twice and looked around, the orange hues of the sky were beautiful, it was nearly 6 in the evening. Y/N said they were always home for dinner. He heard some steps coming and in moments the door was unlocked and swung open to reveal a child, a girl, she couldn’t be older that 5. This was strange. Had they moved?
“Hi.” He said with a friendly smile and she just peered up at him silently, “Are your parents home?” He asked and she nodded and he chuckled, “Can you call them for me?” She nodded and just scurried away leaving him alone again and he took a few steps back, to show that he was not a threat, but the child barely made it around the corner before a woman, looking closer to his age hurried up with a concerned frown.
“Who are you?” She asked assertively.
“Ummm, I’m Harry. I was looking for Martha o-or Benjamin?” He asked warily, “This was the last address I had for them.” He explained.
“What is this regarding?” The woman asked.
“It’s a family matter. Is there a forwarding address that you can give me or-”
“I am their family. I’m their niece, Evelyn. This is their house, I’m their tenant now.” She explained, she was clearly feeling protective, which any normal person would.
“Oh my god, hi.” He said as his lips turned up in a smile.
“Sorry, do I know you?” Evelyn asked, looking completely perplexed now. He shook his head.
“No, but I know of you. I umm-” this was harder than he thought.
“How? What is this about?” She asked again.
“Ummm, it’s about…Y/N.” He said tentatively and her face immediately dropped.
“What? How?” She asked and he bit his lip.
“We…were together when she…” he trailed off and Evelyn looked to the ground.
“They told us she was on that motorcycle by herself.” She said tightly, her eyes watery.
“She was. Sorry, let me clarify, I mean we were in a relationship then.” He explained his story.
“What?” Evelyn asked in disbelief and Harry nodded, “Well, what could you possibly want now? It’s been more than ten years.” She sighed in agitation.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any more hurt to you or them, but ummm, I’m getting engaged soon and I still have some of her things. I held on to them for all this time and it didn’t feel right to just throw them away or mail them off. I couldn’t do that to her.” He said his well rehearsed narrative perfectly and Evelyn sniffled as a few tears fell.
“Why now?” She asked with confusion. Her voice cracked as more tears fell and he nibbled on his lip.
“Ummm, it’s been hard to let her go. But I’m ready now and she always talked about her family and her home and it seemed like the best place to come say goodbye.” He explained and she shook her head.
“You can’t do that!” She scoffed with hurt, “You decided to just show up one day and-Fuck, how could you?” She asked as more tears fell and he frowned.
“I’m so sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” He responded softly and she nodded and he turned away and started to walk back to his car. Y/N would understand, she was prepared for this type of reaction and had told him to just go if it would only make things worse. Obviously it would hurt her to know that they still bore some pain but at least she would know they were alive and well and still learning how to move on. He was about to cross the street to his car when Evelyn’s voice cut through his thoughts of how he would explain this to Y/N.
“Hey! Wait!” She shouted sharply and he turned back to look at her, there was a beat of silence before Evelyn spoke up again, “What do you have of hers?” She asked nervously.
“Just some stuff she had left at my apartment. I can show you.” He offered and she nodded, her eyes softening, “Let me just get it from the car.” He said and hurried to grab the box that had taken up most of the space in his duffle bag. He hurried back over to her.
“D-do you want to come in?” She asked cautiously.
“If you’re OK with it. We can stay out here if you prefer.” He said quickly.
“It’s fine, I need to keep an eye out on the girls.” She said and he nodded and she guided him inside. He followed her through the home, it was small but cute. They peaked into the living room to see her girls watching a Disney movie attentively now and the kitchen overlooked that area, so she switched on the light and sat on the table across from him. He could feel her watching him closely, she was so nervous.
“I ummm, I’ve got some photos we took and a shirt of hers and a necklace and watch…some CD’s, a notebook, just with doodles and random things.” He said as he opened it up and when he glanced up at her she was staring intently at him.
“Did you even go to her funeral? I don’t remember seeing you there.” She stated and he shook his head.
“I couldn’t. When I found out I was…” he stopped and remembered how it felt when that CIA guy took her away, he thought it had lost her forever, “I lost my fucking mind. I was in hysterics.” He said with a frown. “ I completely shut down. I didn’t want to accept it, going meant it was real. I got pulled out of school and went back to England. I regret not going though.” He shared, “I ummm…that night we had gone out with friends and I had this plan that I was going to tell her that I loved her.” He smiled sadly, “I chickened out as we were saying goodbye and I just kissed her, like I normally would. I tried to show her what I was trying to say when I kissed her.” He explained and he could see Evelyn’s tears silently falling, “If I had only known that, that was our final goodbye I would’ve been more brave.” He explained and Evelyn broke out in a sob and he instinctively reached out for her hand and she squeezed it, “I’m so sorry.” He apologized again and she shook her head.
“No, it’s alright. It’s just so unfair.” She gasped through her tears, “She deserved to be happy and it breaks my heart that she never got to experience that for herself. People in high school were so mean to her.” Evelyn explained.
“Yeah, she told me that.” He nodded.
“Yeah, she was excited to start a new life and be with new people and just start over. She knew that leaving would make everything better.” Evelyn explained, “I know she was really happy out there. She was right?” Evelyn whimpered and Harry nodded with a sympathetic smile. 
“Yeah, so incredibly happy.” He assured her and she nodded and pulled their hands apart to wipe under her eyes.
“Ughhh…” she sniffled and gathered herself for a second, “Can you show me the stuff?”
“Of course.” He nodded and started putting things down for her to see. She looked through the notebook and then through the pictures they had taken a while back and Evelyn smiled down at one of Y/N with a plate of pancakes in her hands.
“Her and her pancake obsession.” She giggled and Harry nodded, “And always with that same haircut… she was so resistant to changing it.”
“Yeah.” He chuckled, “I really like the next one.” He said and she moved on to it. This was one they had taken when they first got to Italy, Evelyn obviously didn’t know that, but it was a really nice one. He was smooshing a big kiss to her cheek as she laughed, her eyes were shut tight, but it exuded pure happiness. Evelyn smiled down at it.
“You don’t want this one?” She asked glancing up at him.
“I did keep some of us but they’re a little more platonic though granted the whole engagement thing.” He explained.
“Right, of course.” She responded and he nodded. 
She then moved on to the other items, the university t-shirt she liked to wear, it still kind of smelled like her perfume. He then explained that she had left a bottle of her favorite spray and lotion at his place if she wanted it. It was in his luggage and Evelyn was so excited to hear that and explained that, that particular scent had been discontinued. Y/N didn’t smell like that anymore, but maybe she had always planned for something like this to get done for her family or perhaps she just had it stashed away for personal reasons, as a reminder of her old life. Evelyn told him stories about the CD’s Y/N had put in there, they were autographed and they had been looking for them everywhere, it was nice to have some of her favorite items back. Evelyn ended up asking him over for dinner, he accepted and she assured that she would call Y/N’s parents to see if they would want to come over as well. She was on the phone with them for at least 20 minutes in another room and in the end they agreed, surprisingly. 
While they waited Evelyn talked a bit about herself, how she had moved on and was holding up. One of her kids was named after Y/N, their father, her boyfriend, was fire fighter, so he worked long hours but he was a great dad and partner and they were getting married soon. Evelyn wanted to know more about Harry though and how he had moved on and so he told her the things he and Y/N had agreed upon and all in all, it was good. He could see where Y/N got her great qualities from. They had just finished laughing about some funny story from Y/N’s childhood and Evelyn switched gears again.
“So, is this your first serious relationship after her?” Evelyn asked carefully and he nodded, just as he and Y/N had rehearsed.
“It was hard to move on because I genuinely believe she’s my soulmate.” He said, choosing to speak in present tense, because it was the truth, they are soulmates.
“Is?” Evelyn asked confused and he smiled and nodded.
“Personally, I believe we only have one soulmate and she’s mine. I think we can love plenty of people, but there’s always that one person who just…I don’t know, you just know, you know?” He explained with a smile and Evelyn nodded, “From the very first moment you meet them, something deep inside of them calls to something deep inside of you.” He explained, “I’d never felt that way before, she worked her way in to easily and just flipped my entire world upside down, but it helped me see that there was more to life, you know? It put a lot into perspective for me and she…saved me in a way. To me, everything about her was special from the start. She was so beautiful and put together. Her smile. The sound of her voice, her laugh, the way it looks like she’s pouting or upset when she’s thinking about something.” Evelyn giggled, “Know that one, do you?” He chuckled.
“Definitely.” She smiled, “You know, I…don’t really remember what she sounds like.” Evelyn confessed sadly, “Her laugh I can hear it in my head clear as day, but her voice is… it’s fading.” She sniffled and he reached for her hand again and she squeezed it tight. Suddenly the doorbell rang again and she shot up, “Oh my. , they’re here!” She said and Harry felt extremely nervous again. He felt like he was going to be sick, “Just, wait here.” She said and he nodded. 
He could heard Y/N’s mom crying a bit as they made some muffled conversation and after about five minutes Evelyn came back in with Y/N’s parents, they looked exactly as she had described them. Y/N was almost a splitting image of her father with noticeable traces of her mother. They just looked him over for a moment, looking more calm now. There wasn’t judgement on their faces, it was more like they were trying to picture Y/N with him. In his opinion it was easy to picture them together, they looked like they belonged together, but maybe they couldn’t see that.
“Hi, I’m Harry.” He said with a small smile and Y/N’s father extended his hand out to him and Harry shook it firmly and Y/N’s mother followed.
“Everyone sit, chat for a minute while I get the girls fed.” Evelyn said and they all nodded and sat down. The looked at the box of Y/N’s things.
“Ummm, these are the things of hers that I’ve had with me. She had left them in my apartment. It’s not much.” He said and they looked inside. Her dad grabbed the photos right away and they both smiled as they looked through them quietly together, but no more tears were shed from them. They looked through the rest of the box and he just gave them their time to look at the relics from her old life. He wished he could show them how beautiful she looked on their wedding day. If they could only see her now, they would be so proud of her. They finally turned their attention back to him and her mother spoke up.
“You looked quite happy in the pictures together.” She smiled and Harry nodded.
“Best few months of my life.” He said softly.
“She hadn’t mentioned that she was seeing anyone.” Her mother said.
“I think she was a little bit embarrassed of me.” He confessed with a smile, “Well, more of being in a relationship in general. She was so goal driven and focused, she came in knowing what she wanted those four years to look like and I think she just didn’t want anyone to know that she could potentially be distracted. I wasn’t really a part of the plan.” He explained and her father chuckled.
“Sounds about right.” Harry nodded with a smile, “So you were with her on that day?” He asked Harry and he nodded, “We’ve always wondered if it wasn’t an accident. If maybe it was too much pressure with her classes and working and trying to maintain her scholarship. Maybe she was having trouble with other people? She always had issues with bullies in school.” He explained with a frown.
“We were scared that she was just unhappy being away from home. We’re all very close.” Her mother added, “H-how was she doing?”
“She was doing really well. I did hear a lot about you all. She missed you a lot, specially her grandfather, she wished that he had been around to see it all.” He explained and they nodded attentively as he spoke, “She was really happy.” He confirmed, “I’d like to think I played a part in that.” He smiled, “She was still really focused and driven, she had her priorities straight. But ummm, she was allowing herself to live life as well. She was very well-liked among her classmates and our friends, she integrated herself a lot more in my group after her roommate joined the sorority?” They nodded in understanding.
“How did you meet?” Her mother asked and Harry smiled to himself for a moment.
“At a tattoo shop.” He said and her eyebrows arched up.
“Really?”
“Yes, she came to ask about it. I think she maybe wanted something after her grandfather and I was working there at the front. Helped pay the school bills.” He explained, “It was cute, she was so nervous and she had clearly been reading tons of things on the internet and had the most complex questions.” He chuckled, “She was wearing a school hoodie and I told her I also studied there and turns out we were just a building away from each other that whole time.” He hummed.
They seemed happy to be talking about her. To have some real insight as to what her life was like. Harry apologized for not being at her funeral as Y/N had told him to do and also for showing up after all that time, but they didn’t care. They were just happy that she had been happy and loved. He did give Evelyn the spray and lotion that Y/N had sent, she knew her cousin well and they let Evelyn keep some things and they took the rest. At the end of the night they all hugged him goodbye and they wished him luck in his relationship and hoped that he could too fully heal from it all. They were so sweet and caring and kind and he was glad that he could leave them with some peace as Y/N hoped, he was also pleased that he would be able to tell her that her family were alright. He had planned on staying longer but he didn’t want to wait to share and he also didn’t want to tell her everything over the phone. He got a flight on standby and headed straight back to Italy on a red eye, he could check in on Angelo’s mum another time. He let Y/N know he was coming back right away and that made her anxious, she left for their nearest airport though and waited in that city for him until he arrived the following afternoon.
*********
“Hey, love.” He hummed as he hurried into the car and they kissed briefly.
“Hi. How was it?” She asked right away, “Wait, actually don’t tell me just yet, let’s get in to the hotel first, yeah?”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He smiled and they took off. Y/N was completely on edge. She was quiet the whole drive and he just let her simmer and formulate the questions she wanted to asked as he just held her thigh. 
When they finally arrived and got into their room she let out a big exhale before she burst into tears. 
“Oh baby, c’mere.” He said quietly and she rushed into his arms and he held her tight as she sobbed. She wept to him about how she regretted not going with him and seeing them or hearing them for herself and truly that was her one chance. There was absolutely no reason for Harry to ever go back now and she felt like she had made a mistake in not doing as he had suggested. He let her be sad about this for however long she wanted before he would share about how they were. She just needed a moment to express how conflicted she felt about all of this; how she regretted accepting the CIA’s recruiting offer, but without that she never would have met him. She regretted hurting her family the way she did, not being able to see her parents get old and look after them, she was their only child, it was supposed to be her taking care of them. She regretted not having them there on their wedding day. As she confessed to all of these things she had been holding onto for months Harry knew not to take it all personally.
Harry understood full well the conflicting feelings because while he could never regret her, he did regret getting too ambitious as a young kid to the point that he got mixed up with the mafia. Because of this he wasted so much precious time with his family and even with his friends. He hurt them and put them in harm’s way and if he could take it all back he would, but that also meant that he would have never met Y/N. But for one reason or another, they were on the paths they were on and he’d like to think that it was because they were meant to be together. Soon her crying subsided and he was able to answer her questions, tell her about her niece who was named after, how happy her family was to hear that she had in fact been happy during her time away, and obviously, it was hard for them, but they seemed to have moved on well enough. Hearing that did make her feel better as she laid against his chest as his fingers stroked her hair and she listened on until he was done.
“Thank you for doing that for me, baby. I know that it couldn’t have been easy.” She said, cheek smushed into his warm and sturdy chest.
“I would do anything for you, no matter how hard or impossible it seemed.” He assured as he planted a kiss on her head and she smiled, because she knew it was the absolute truth.
There was no one else she had ever trusted with this, just him. There was no one else she had loved so much that she felt would be excellent candidates to meet her family. There was no one who worked on themselves and bore their soul to her the way he did. There was no one that she had ever envisioned building a life and family with, just him. And it was not lost on her how absolutely lucky she got to have their paths cross. To have him also notice her. To let her in. To love her. Y/N’s vision started to blur with tears, they were happy tears but overwhelmed tears because there was this paralyzing feeling in her chest as it dawned on her just how much she loved him. She earnestly believed that she had reached the capacity of love with how she felt, but right now it was clear to her that there was just so much more. It bordered on painful, she couldn’t just contain this feeling inside. She pressed herself up against his chest as she sniffled and he frowned.
“Oh baby, what’s the matter?” He asked and she shook her head as she grabbed his face and pressed her lips to his in a powerful and searing kiss. The kind of kiss that put the entire world on pause. The kind if kiss that seemed like it was a life or death situation and after a few seconds of being caught off guard Harry looped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him as the kiss evolved into a make out session that was making his body buzz in excitement. Gradually, they started to slow down to catch their breaths and she nudged her nose against his playfully, this made his smile and she kissed kissed him through it before pulling back slightly as their eyes blinked open to meet each other’s gaze.
“I feel so much for you, I couldn’t articulate it.” She explained her sudden outburst, “I can’t imagine doing life without you. I don’t even care how we came to be, I’m just happy to be here with you.” She whispered and he now lunged forward and kissed her until the fell back onto the bed upside down. In seconds they were getting undressed in between kisses and growing more and more desperate for each other. Harry’s lips trailed down her body, the skin left in his wake of kisses seemed to sear at the absence of his lips but she was eager for him to reach his intended destination. Her delicate fingers combed into his hair and pushed him down faster and he chuckled, but did as she was suggesting. She put a leg over his shoulder as the other fell open, making space for him. She could feel his fast exhales against her heat, making her clench in anticipation as his lips skimmed her lower lips.
“So.” Kiss, “Fucking.” Kiss, “Perfect.” kiss. She moaned at the slight friction to her clit with his lips and soft, little kisses, “You’re a goddess.” He hummed as he buried his face against her, taking in her scent and how soft her skin was down there, he giggled as her little tuft of hair tickled beneath his nose and the vibrations of it made her gasp and buck up, the tip of his nose came into perfect contact with her throbbing, little clit. It was so red and swollen, pleading for his attention. He rolled his tongue out and licked a fat stripe up from her entrance to her clit, making sure to swirl around the little button a few times before moving back to suck at her labia gently and then to dart his tongue into her leaking, little hole. Her grip tightened into his hair and she moaned as she ground herself again his mouth and he moaned and let her move him around to where she wanted, listening to her instructions so that he could get her off. Her thighs were squeezing around his head and her grip was tight in his hair but he could care less, he would die a happy death if he were to be suffocated between her thighs. “Oh H, baby! I’m right there!” She gasped as her toes curled and the muscles of her stomach trembled from how wound up tight she was. Her orgasm came so swiftly and fiercely. It took her out like a giant wave wiping out and rolling everything in it’s path down into its depths. He moaned against her sensitive skin and gently kissed at her clit to bring her down from it all before he licked down to her entrance and delved his tongue inside, wanting to get a taste of her cum. 
After a few moments of his delicate actions to bring her back down he kissed his way back up her body, taking his time to lick and suck at his favorite parts of her body before making it to her lips, his absolute favorite place to kiss. As they started to make out he adjusted her legs beneath him so that he could slick his cock up with her arousal and cum.
“You make me absolutely crazy for you.” He snarled as he felt the warm slick of her juices coat his prick up. It made him feral to feel how her body seemed to react to his. How wet she got for him was an absolute turn on. He viewed it as her body’s way of inviting him in. Her body craved his and wanted him to fill her up and pound her pussy to the heavens. He adjusted his hips and without a warning sunk into her in one fluid thrust and he moaned into her mouth as she gasped as their bodies connected perfectly. He had sunk in balls deep from how wet she was, but inside she was still adjusting to his size and he kept the pressure of his hips against hers. Slowly he started to sink in a little deeper, “Fuck, I can feel you opening up for me, baby.” He whispered and something about that made her moan out in ecstasy.
“Please.” She whimpered and he kissed her.
“Please what?” He asked before he swirled his hips with a wet squelch and she smiled in ecstasy.
“I-I don’t even know.” She mumbled and he hummed in amusement and he pressed himself up to a kneeling position and she gasped as he reached even deeper, she could feel it in the pit of her stomach and she winced as the little bite of pain before she adjusted to it moments later. Already, her eyes were hazy with ecstasy, she was love drunk and cock drunk at the same time.
He glanced down to see how such a tight little thing had opened right up for his big cock and taken it to the hilt. It genuinely amazed him how he fit inside. He grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers before he pressed her hands down into the mattress as he drew out a bit, making her wince and then she cried out his name as he surged back in and ground into her. She squeezed at his hands as her eyes searched his, “More. Please, more.” She pleaded and he nodded as he drew back out again and thrust in again and this time he kept going.
Every time his cock slid back in he was celebrated with a wet smacking sound and her pretty moans that emerged from her throat in perfect time with his thrusts. He spared a glance down at the way they moved together and he shivered with pleasure as he groaned and glanced back up to her as he picked up his pace. The fire in his belly was lit and was quickly starting to spread through his entire body.
“Fuck, you’re already gonna make me come.” He groaned and she smiled.
“Harder.” She mewled and he let go of one of her hands to grip her hip and have more leverage as his hips piston med powerfully into hers until he could see the tip of his cock bulging slightly at her lower stomach. The headboard of the hotel bed pounded rhythmically with his thrusts and the frame creaked along with her, as if it too was praising Harry for the railing he was giving Y/N. She cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, but she didn’t want him to stop as he absolutely demolished her. She swore he was splitting her in two but it felt like heaven and her entire body was vibrating with the pleasure of an impeding orgasm. They heard some pounding on the wall and he chuckled, “We have to be quiet.” She gasped.
“Fuck that guy. Wanna hear you. Love to hear you.” He groaned as he went harder and she groaned with each thrust and again, their neighbor pounded on the wall.
“Un po' di discrezione per favore!” They heard a muffled shout through the wall and they both laughed through the pleasure at their neighbor’s plea for some discretion.
“Stai zitto! Abbiamo quasi finito!” Harry shouted back with laughter and they could hear the man start cursing them out and despite that he worked harder and harder, the pounding of the headboard grew more intense as the man’s knocks into the wall also increased, probably thinking he was ruining the mood, but Y/N started to circle her clit in time to the fast raps against the wall and she was burning up from the inside out, gasping and moaning Harry’s name as he pounded right into her g-spot.
“There! Oh fuck, right there, daddy!” She yelped and he moaned loudly at the name slipped from her mouth without her even thinking about it. 
“Fuck, say it again.” He panted hoarsely.
“Daddy! I’m going to come, daddy!” She nearly sobbed as her little fingers were a blur against her slippery cunt as she started to tighten up around his cock.
“Fuck, come for, daddy. All over my cock, baby.” He panted tiredly and she tensed up and her toes curled as she just clutched to his back as she started to moan uncontrollably, her nails raked down the hot and sweaty skin of his back as she pulsed around him and soaked him, she was squirting and he fought the pressure of it to stay inside, “Fuck, I’m gonna come!” He growled and his grip on her tightened and he sobbed against her mouth as ropes of his cum shot deep inside of her, filling her as he moaned her name. Her pulsing walls milked every bit of his cum and his thrusts slowed but didn’t stop completely as they kissed heatedly before parting with a gasp to take a proper breath. Y/N’s vision was blurry with tears and Harry’s was completely splotchy with little colors, that really had taken it out of him. He pressed himself up from her body with shaky arms, getting ready to pull out but she hugged around him.
“Not yet.” She spoke hoarsely and he smiled and nestled back into her arms and kissed at the top of her right breast.
“I love you. You’re my whole world.” He whispered and she smiled and kissed the top of his head.
“Love you, light of my life.” She whispered tiredly.
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haarrrys · 9 months
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I need some good mafia harry reads.. if anyone knows some, please shoot me some asks/reblogs 🤍
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jarofstyles · 1 year
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Mafiarry Christmas please miss jars!!!
Of course 🫶 here is a peek into their Christmas season!
Check out our Patreon!
Warnings- mafia mention, anxiety, dangerous situations
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“You can’t be serious.”
“Don’t be a Scrooge.” Y/N puffed, hauling the tinsel behind her with a swing of the hip. “It’s not my fault you can’t see the joys of the season. You’re just grumpy.”
Harry exhaled fully, dragging his hands down his face as he walked into his living room. It looked like Christmas had thrown up all over. He had been warned by the wreath when he walked to the front door, but nothing could have prepared him for the title wave of jingle and jolly that invaded his house.
“I’m not a Scrooge. That’s offensive.” He grunted. “I’m just… this is a lot, darling. Where are you possibly going to put it all?” He knew Y/N had a lot of time on her hands now that she had agreed to stay home for her safety for a bit, some ongoing issues making it a bit hard for her to go and do the normal festivities. “I think you’ve bought the entire Christmas section.” His face had softened as he saw a slight pout on her face, stretching hard to place the tinsel on the higher hook.
The man didn’t skip a beat, coming up behind her and taking the fluffy tinsel from her hand and draping it up so it hung the way he had a feeling she would want. One hand curled around her waist, fingers slightly digging into her soft tummy as he pressed against her. Y/N couldn’t keep the facade, leaning back into him with a gentle hmph. It was unfair that a single touch, a little gesture made her feel so needy. Her body leaned into his, feeling the crispness of his pressed shirt and inhaling the scent of him as she dropped her head back against his shoulder.
“Thank you.” She paused. “Even more rude that you haven’t kissed me hello yet.”
That was something Harry could agree with. Especially with her wearing these odd yet very flattering red velvet leggings with a flare at the bottom and Santa like fuzzy stuff at the rim and a cropped knit sweater. He pulled her closer, tilting her chin up a bit and covered his mouth with hers for a full kiss. He wasn’t one to ever half ass their kisses, and he was known to be a greedy man, so he did what he did best. Holding his lips over hers and sucking slightly as he pulled back, a little smile curling his lips as he heard a soft protest from her.
Y/N spun in his arms to properly face him, hands sneaking under his blazer jacket to find his belt loops. Harry’s smile was one of the private ones reserved just for her, making her irritation at his prodding about the Christmas decor lessen. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to forget your kiss.” He gently rubbed the bare skin of her back, dipping his fingers into the waistband of the velvet things. Whatever they were, he liked how they looked and how they felt. “Just shocked me. M’not used to this. And you didn’t consult me.” There was no malice in his voice, just slight surprise. She usually told him when she did big things. This seemed to quantify as a big thing.
“Was feeling spontaneous. Antonio and co took me shopping, you knew that. But once I got to the Christmas sections I got a vision.” She raised on her tiptoes to kiss his nose before pulling away, sauntering over to the bags. “Winter wonderland. Classy and cool, doesn’t need to be taken down the very next day after Christmas. Just… something to do.” She shrugged, trying not to make him feel bad. There was no illusion, she knew what she was into when she decided to stay with him. Sometimes things would be more guarded and she would need to listen to him for safety. Harry was worth any sacrifice.
“Hm. That’s a good idea.” Harry loosened his shirt, placing the blazer on the chair. He had spent all day wanting to come home to her and relax- and he would. But he wanted to indulge first. He may not have the most Christmas spirit usually, but if it made her happy, he would put on a santa hat or something. “I’m sorry you can’t do the normal things.” He sat down on the ottoman in front of all the bags, watching her cross the room to come and sit near him to give him a ‘haul.’ He didn’t know why she loved it so much but her smiles and the excitement was well worth it.
“It’s okay. I’ve got a handsome man with pretty hands who comes home to me. He’s very dangerous and good in bed. So.” She snickered, grabbing a bag that was in her way and placing it on her lap. “It’s a good trade off.
Plus you kind of fund my hobbies so, I’ve got to give it to you.”
Harry had to laugh, crossing his arms as he watched intently, eyes locked on her as she went through the items. The light in her eyes, the excitement she showed as she was going through her purchases and explaining where each piece would go and her ‘vision’ for the spaces. Was there really a need for miniature Christmas trees in every bathroom? No. But he wouldn’t mind. It didn’t hurt anything and he was sure any of his men wouldn’t say anything either. Nothing but compliments allowed for Y/N’s sake.
“And then!” She stood up, tapping her fingers together. “I got you a tree for your office. And before you give me the Harry Eyebrow raise- your’re starting it, stop- it’s flocked. We won’t decorate it besides some lights. I know you’re a macho man who runs underground crime and all that but…” she brought the box over to him, presenting it like it was a gold dabloon. “I thought about what you’d like. Simple and elegant. It’s a pretty tree and we can set it up together. That’s all the decor for your office cause it’s your space but I just….” She fiddled with the box, looking down at it. “I wanted you to be happy too. I know things are a bit hard now, that you’re on edge. I hope that it makes you feel a bit less like your head is lost in this. That you’re still normal.”
And there it was. One of the biggest reasons why he loved her. Her pure thoughtfulness was something that Harry never would be able to find in anyone else. Despite him trying his best to shield her from some of the tiny, insignificant parts of this that would grate on him? She noticed. Holidays never felt special before her. Last year had been calm and she had given him the best Christmas he ever had, which he had admitted when curled naked around her, stroking her supple skin. Confessing how hard the holidays were especially when shit like his business was life or death for a lot of people. The weight was heavy and he tried to keep afloat but sometimes he would drown in it.
She was his life preserver.
“Thank you.” He said quietly, sitting up straighter as his finger crooked. Motioning her over to come right to him. “Come give me a cuddle before you go back to your work. We can set it up together. You’re very thoughtful, darling girl.” As soon as he could get his hands on her she was tugged into his lap, straddling him as he curled an arm around her and pulled her face down so he could kiss her cheeks. “My very own angel. Couldn’t ask for anything better.”
Harry didn’t care about stockings or anything under the tree. Lights didn’t phase him. All he needed was this. Her. Seeing her in his bed every morning as she whined for him to stay, finding his marks on her skin after nights of passion, getting to be the receiver of these sort of thoughtful gestures. She was his person. “I love you.” Her voice floated over him, snugly placing her arm around his neck. “I want to lessen the burden. Want you to have an escape.”
“You are my escape. Helped make this house a real home. I completely and utterly adore you.” His words were weighted, settling in her belly as she smiled down at him.
“That’s all I can ask for.” Her fingers delicately brushed over his jaw, the stubble rough against the tips. “You are my dream. Didn’t know I had such an intense dream of love, but you’re easy. Despite everything else you’re the easiest person to love that I could imagine. It comes naturally.” Her eyes focused on his, letting him see how truthful the sentiment was. “Thank you for indulging in me. I know you don’t care too much about the decorations but you’ll help me and look at the things I’ve bought because it makes me happy.” She watched him go to open his mouth but she shook her head. “S’okay. Promise. It makes me happy that you do it anyways. But… I just hope you know how much I appreciate you.” She ended the thanks with a kiss on the tip of his nose.
“Come on then. I need my Scrooge to roll up those Armani sleeves and use that strength to help me put up the tree. I got an artificial one. We need to save the forest.”
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Dystopian life
Warnings: dark! Harry, mafia! Harry, guns and violence
Request: hey would you be able to do a dystopian Harry story where the reader has to choose between blue pill Harry and red pill Harry? Like blue is good and red is evil? If not then don’t worry! Thank you
Word count: 1943
This story is going to be sort of inspired by don’t worry darling. Enjoy and I hope this is what you were asking for(:
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“You take the blue pill, wake up and everything is back to normal… he’ll be back to normal. you take the red pill and see how far the rabbit hole will take you… and how he’ll change and be able to show you what things you’re capable of”
You gasped awake, your eyes frantically flicking back and forth around the room, this same goddamn dream haunted your brain… it wasn’t even a dream really… just a shadowed man talking. It was weird. Random… bizarre, your breathing grew heavier as you tried to calm yourself down sitting up, beads of sweat trailing down your skin. “Y/n?” Your eyes flicked to the side as you stared at your boyfriend, harry- the kindest man you knew. He was such a sweetheart “you okay?” He asked worriedly his voice full of sleep and tiredness as he looked at you groggily, “nightmare again?” He asked softly and as you nodded he pulled you close “oh sweetheart I’m sorry” he said quietly and gently, peppering kisses against your forehead. “Try and rest okay? I’ve got you… I promise.” He said softly as he held you close to his chest. You leaned your head against his warm skin holding onto him as you traced your fingertips against his tattoos, your eyes fluttering shut as sleep soon took over your senses once again. It was peaceful… calm… quiet.
“You take the blue pill, wake up and everything is back to normal… he’ll be back to normal. you take the red pill and see how far the rabbit hole will take you… and how he’ll change and be able to show you what things you’re capable of”
The voice was dangerous… closer than before and as you opened your eyes you weren’t in bed anymore. Harry was no where to be seen… you were alone in a dark massive room, one singular chair placed opposite you as the sound of footsteps walked all around you staggered words of blue pill and red pill surrounding your head before the footsteps grew closer and closer until a tall figure stopped just in front of you before sitting down and as the figure sat down, a spotlight flicked on, the bright light making you wince as you squinted your eyes staring at the man in front of you it was harry… but it didn’t look like harry. He was glitching, his face contorting from red to blue, he looked like some animation. “Y/n” the voice was dark, cruel… a voice you really didn’t know. “You have one thing to answer” he spoke folding his hands down onto his lap as he gazed at you, almost emotionlessly “You either take the blue pill, wake up and everything is back to normal… he’ll be back to normal. you take the red pill and see how far the rabbit hole will take you… and how he’ll change and be able to show you what things you’re capable of. Which one do you choose?”
He then held out his hands, holding a blue pill in his left hand and a red pill in his right hand. “I cant choose” you said visibly nervous and anxious “you don’t have a choice. You have to choose”
You stared at his hands, studying each pill individually “isn’t there something deep down inside of you… who’s always been into bad boys, hm? What if you got to live your bad boy needs out? With your own version of Harry, the bad boy…. Take your chances and eat the red pill and see where it takes you… don’t you want that?” He questioned making your choices harder, you loved Harry as he was but sometimes he was a bit too soft but you still adored him… you didn’t love him any less. “Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.” His voice glitched in and out of focus, almost as if he were mocking you. You stood up moving towards him before taking the red pill in between your fingers before taking one last glance around and throwing it into your mouth and that’s when it all happened, your vision began to blur, tiredness suddenly overcame you as the glitching Harry stood up, cradling you in your arms “you’re okay… just fall asleep little girl.” And within an instant your body went limp as you fell into a deep somewhat peaceful sleep.
“Y/n” a voice pulled you from your slumber and you let out a soft groan “y/n wake up” the voice was harsh but loving at the same time and you fluttered your eyes open looking towards Harry “you had another nightmare” he said his tone worried, a cold flannel being rubbed against your temple to dry the sweat from your forehead “mhm… it was scary… weird…” you whispered your eyes remaining closed. “Maybe I shouldn’t of told you about that gang” he murmured and you visibly frowned, gang? What gang? Your Harry didn’t have anything to do with any gangs “gang?” You asked quietly as you snapped your eyes open looking at him, the sight in front of you nearly made you choke on your own saliva. Harry sat there, his tattoos visible and his toned chest illuminated in the moonlight “yes, honey. The bad men… they tried to hurt you, remember?” He asked and you looked into his eyes confused “no… I… I don’t remember” you said a concerned look forming on his face “they believed they could pick a fight with the big fish… they lost their bet.” He said and you blinked a couple of times trying to understand him “oh… okay…” you whispered softly “what happened to-“ he cut you off “that doesn’t matter. Don’t let that worry your sweet head. They’ve been dealt with. You’re safe that’s all that matters…” he said gently his hand smoothing against your head as he stroked your hair “I love you so much y/n…” he said quietly his hand gently cupping your jaw in his hand, and you smiled up at him. You were confused yes but you weren’t going to say no to the affection he was giving but all that disappeared as a sudden urgent knock was heard “sir!” A voice yelled as a young man ran into the room clearly out of puff “they’re here.” He said and Harry stood up grabbing his white shirt as he flung it onto his body, his hands clenched into fists “stay here y/n I cant risk having you get hurt. Thomas stay with her.” He ordered and the young man nodded, a gun stuffed in the side of his pants
“Who’s here and why are they bothering Harry?” You asked looking at Thomas and he slowly turned to look at you “I’m sorry, that information is something you shouldn’t hear.” He said and you frowned “why not?” You asked softly “because if you know then you’re in 10x more danger, besides if I tell you Harry will most likely kill me.” He said and you fell silent, simply nodding your head the sound of bullets exploding through the air making your heart race. It was terrifying you wouldn’t lie. “They’re the Jamison gang.” Thomas suddenly blurted out “their main leader, Arthur Jamison wants you for his own” he explained and your heart sank your breathing growing faster, you were some sort of prize to them… how fucking sick.
The gunshots soon died down, silence soon becoming deafening and as you went to say something Thomas quickly slapped a hand over your mouth “shh” he warned holding onto his gun with his other hand and as you listened closely the sound of slow quiet footsteps were heard “y/n” a sudden voice you didn’t know sang out and you tensed up. Maybe you should’ve chosen the blue pill… but before you could even begin to regret that the door had been slammed open, a gun pointed at you and two other men walking in pointing their guns at Thomas “kill him” the taller man said and within an instance both men shot and killed Thomas, his blood splattering on your cheek as you stayed frozen, fear in your eyes as you looked down at Thomas’ limp body. “Oh sweetheart… how I’ve longed to have you” the man whom you assumed as Arthur said, beaming, but in a split second his smile disappeared and instead was replaced with a vicious smirk as his gun was pressed to your throat “you make a sound… or do anything and I will kill you is that understood little one?” He asked and you nodded “good.” He murmured.
But before he could even hurt you a loud gunshot went off as one of his men fell to the ground “let her go” harry. Gods you were so grateful to hear his voice “oh that isn’t how this works” Arthur spoke, smirking at Harry. “I swear I’ll shoot you if you don’t let her go” he spat out and Arthur just chuckled “and I’ll shoot her.” He said, Harry’s expression dropping into degustation, panic- concern but only for a split second as he tightened his grip on his gun “Harry please” you begged, eyes full of fear as you struggled not to cry but he paid no mind to you keeping his gun pointed at Arthur “I will put a bullet in your head either way.” Harry spat out. “I’ve got a better idea.” Arthur said grinning before he shoved you forwards towards Harry and just as Harry was going to hold you Arthur grabbed a hold of your bicep “sweetheart you have a choice-“ “don’t you dare make her-“ “shut it Harold” Arthur spat out before placing the gun in your hand “choose. You either shoot me or him…. Choose wisely.” He said a cruel smile tugging at his lips and you shakily pointed your gun at Harry your eyes filled with sorrow “I-I’m so sorry…” you whispered quietly and he simply gazed at you, smiling “it’s okay. Pull the trigger.” He said and you let a few tears stream down your cheeks before you squeezed your eyes shut and quickly spun around shooting both Arthur and the other man both dropping dead onto the floor, your hands shaking, your body trembling and Harry quickly wrapped his arms around you “I’ve got you… I’ve got you..” he whispered not daring to let go of you “I’m so proud of you” he said softly pressing kisses to your cheek and you smiled fluttering your eyes shut “… H….” You whispered and he hummed “I-I don’t feel too good.” You said, a warmth trickling down your stomach and as you glanced down you noticed blood pooling around your stomach your legs weakening as you collapsed into his arms and he carefully laid you down onto the floor “help! Help! Medic!” He screamed, “hey stay with me y/n stay with me…” he whispered rubbing your cheek with his hand and you stared at him “I’m so sorry Harry… I love you.” You said quietly and he continued yelling for you, your breathing slowing down as your eyes closed and silence surrounded you…
So, you… what do you choose? Red pill or blue pill?
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freedomfireflies · 4 months
Text
Better Not Pout*
Summary: The one where Harry isn't leaving until he gets what he really came for.
You.
Word Count: 10.6k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, violence, guns, gunplay, exhibitionism (This one-shot is a bit darker, so please only read if you feel comfortable! 💞)
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December 24th, 1945.
The streets of Chicago are cold. Windy. Dark. Everyone is either at home, visiting loved ones, or spending their Christmas Eve at the one place they know they’ll be welcome.
The Bees Knees – the renowned, underground speakeasy – is rather sparkling tonight. The customers continue to bustle in, some here for the booze, some here for the atmosphere and warmth, and some for the entertainment.
You.
You’re one of the establishments best performers, three nights of the week. Employed by none other than Johnny Winters himself to sing for the lost souls of Chicago as they drown their worries in a bottle of whiskey.
You quite like your job, and the people you work with. Milton, who tends the bar, always has a compliment to lend, offering you engaging small talk between sets or any new mixes he might make.
And Johnny isn’t so bad. But perhaps you’re a bit biased, seeing as he is your fiancé. But more than that, he’s one of the most powerful men in all of town. And considerably wealthy, which you suppose doesn’t exactly hurt.
But he’s also kind. Giving. And so very attentive. He spends every second he’s not working with you. Doting on you, showing you off to all of his friends. And having such a handsome man on your arm is certainly not the worst thing.
Tonight, however, Johnny is nowhere to be found. Which you don’t consider to be too terribly odd, given how much work he mentioned he’d be catching up on. 
Even still, he hates to miss your performances, and insisted that you keep a part of him with you as you take center stage tonight in the small bar.
That part happens to be in the form of a stunning red, silk dress that was gifted to you for this very occasion. It sits on your frame like it was always meant to be yours, hugging every desirable curve, and showcasing just enough skin to taunt the imagination of those in the audience.
You don’t think you’ve ever felt so beautiful, and you walk up the steps tonight with pride. Shoulders back and painted lips poised with your first song.
The few gentlemen scattered across the main floor holler when the spotlight finds you, and you offer your signature smile.
“Evening, gentleman,” you call as the pianist begins behind you. “How are you all doing tonight?”
A few whistles are offered that make you laugh, and just like that…the show begins.
Santa Claus Came in the Spring is always a favorite, and you croon the festive lyrics while the live band follows your lead.
And even though the crowd is rather dull and distracted, you have a blast. You feel comfortable in this role and in the way their eyes drink you in. Even if their attention drifts between you, their drinks, and the cigars.
In fact, you get so swept up in your act that you hardly notice the door open or the tall, lanky stranger that slinks in from the cold.
But when his head lifts, and his eyes find yours, you feel a hitch in your throat.
Unfortunately, he looks away all too quickly, pulling off his trench coat before moving along the shadows toward the far end of the bar.
He goes unnoticed by those around him, yet your attention follows him all the way to the booth that he settles in. And it stays even after he’s leaned back, gotten comfortable, and pulled a cigarette from his rather expensive looking suit pocket.
But even though your focus has drifted, you don’t miss a single beat of the song. After all, you could sing it in your sleep, and this habit serves you well as the intriguing stranger finally shifts into the light and allows you a better look at his face.
He’s…stunning. Absolutely beautiful, with his slicked back curls, sharp jaw, and pointed nose. And he’s lighting the end of a cigarette with what you can only call practiced precision before perching it between his two, crimson-colored lips. 
Rings adorn his fingers as he holds the nicotine to his mouth, inhaling a long drag before exhaling the dark smoke from his lungs.
Yet unlike the other patrons in the bar, this man seems to be rather put together. He’s not missing any teeth, his skin isn’t stained with dirt or grease, and his clothes appear to be rather new. It’s quite the upgrade from the usual appearance you’ve grown used to, and you can’t help but feel rather relaxed.
And it’s now that you realize that this striking stranger seems to be watching you much like you’re watching him. Studying your dress, your silhouette, the way you grip the microphone stand. He takes in each detail presented before him with what looks to be wonder, and your cheeks instantly grow warm.
Still, you carry on with the ballad, making your way through the final chorus and the last few notes as the band plays you out with a flourish.
The few men in front of the stage clap, and you smile gratefully as you nod your thanks and call out your appreciation.
Jingle Bells is next, and a few more people join in on the fun this time around. They clink their glasses together or belt out the lyrics a few seconds too late and wildly off-key.
Even still, it’s rather fun as you continue on with your set before finally wrapping it up with a high note that’s accompanied by a rather lively trumpet solo.
And once it’s all over, the room bursts into applause. You wave to the growing audience, taking a quick bow before gesturing toward the band. Offering them their due praise which the crowed quickly obliges.
But you notice the man in the booth keeps his expression indifferent as he continues to watch you exit the stage and make your way to the bar. He doesn’t applaud your performance or even offer a smile of encouragement. He merely takes another hit of his cigarette and throws his arm over the back of his seat. A position you imagine is intended to display dominance more than it is to find comfort.
Truth be told, you find it rather unnerving. He doesn’t seem to be here for the alcohol or the company. Perhaps he’s only here to get out of the cold or perhaps he’s avoiding his home.
Either way, his focus stays only with you, and you feel a sharp chill run down your spine as you turn to the counter and flag down Milton’s attention.
You ask for a drink and request that he tell Johnny that you’ll be waiting in his office until he arrives. 
He quickly agrees, preparing the beverage for you before jutting his chin toward the silent stranger.
“Want me to have him escorted out?” he asks, but you only smile as you shake your head.
“No need, I’m sure he’s harmless.” You take the crystal glass and tip it toward him in thanks. “Besides, the attention is rather nice.”
Milton nods his understanding and you leave it at that, taking your drink toward the hallway just off the corner of the room.
You sip leisurely as you stroll to Johnny’s office, picking up the edge of your long gown so it doesn’t drag on the floor. The sounds of the crowd grow quieter and quieter with each step you take, and soon, it’s nothing but silence.
After retrieving the key Johnny insisted you keep on you at all times, you slip open the door, and make your way inside.
It’s quite dark, given the time of night and lack of lighting. He’s only got three lamps in the room, one by the window, one on the shelf, and one on his desk.
Right beside a photo of you.
Getting your photograph taken is quite the privilege, but Johnny insisted he have a vision of you in his office at all times. And you couldn’t help but indulge him, allowing him to dress you up and place you in front of the large contraption one Sunday afternoon in spring.
It’s his favorite thing in the entire world, and he mentions it constantly. Commenting on your beauty or your ethereal outfit. You know he’s only trying to embarrass you, but it’s still rather flattering to hear.
You grin to yourself as you take a seat in the large chair behind the wooden table. Downing the rest of the contents in your glass before setting it down and taking a glance around the large space.
Vaguely, you hear footsteps approaching just outside the door. Echoing through the hall as your grin grows a bit wider. 
And as the knob turns, you expect to see the handsome face of your Johnny.
What you don’t expect, however, is the green-eyed devil and his quiet charm.
He’s followed you. You assume this immediately, and your heart leaps into your throat as he steps inside…and shuts the door behind him.
A tense silence settles between you as you slowly sit up and force in a quiet breath. “Hello,” you call quietly.
The sound of your unsteady voice seems to amuse him, the corner of his mouth curling up as the burning cigarette sits tucked between his lips. “Hello, mama.”
You feel your lashes flutter. “Can…can I help you?”
“I’m looking for your fiancé,” he says, and his voice is low. Deep. And you believe you catch just a hint of an English accent. “This is in fact his office, is it not?”
You hesitate, unsure whether or not to disclose such information to a stranger. “It…yes. Yes, but he’s not here right now. Perhaps you could come back later?”
“Later,” he repeats, almost thoughtfully as his head tilts. Then, he tsks. “See, I’m afraid later just doesn’t work for me. I need to speak with him right now. It’s quite urgent, and I’d like to finish this up and be home to my lover by midnight.”
“Oh…” You shift a bit in your seat and hope he doesn’t notice how nervous you’ve become. “Well, I would love to help, but I don’t believe I know when he’ll be in.”
He considers this for a moment before striding further into the room. Eyes tracking every tremble of your fingers and heave of your chest. “Can I tell you a secret, mama?” he murmurs, placing both hands on the desk and leaning closer.
You nod.
“Your boy Johnny owes me money,” he whispers. “And I’m here to collect.”
And now you understand. Now you know why he’s here. Because even though his tone is friendly, it can’t disguise the threat you know lingers underneath. 
“Oh,” you whisper back, and he hums.
“Exactly. And I’m a pretty reasonable guy. Decent. So, I’ll make you a deal.” He begins to smirk behind the cigarette. “If he’s not here within the next five minutes…you and I will find another way.”
The truth is, you don’t really know too much about the financial side of Johnny’s affairs and business. You know he has plenty of money, but you don’t know what he does with it. Or where he keeps it.
And if this alluring stranger seems to think you’ll be his key…you’re afraid he’ll be mistaken.
“Problem, Doll?” He seems smug, and it makes your skin crawl. “M’not scaring you, am I?”
The answer is obvious to you both, but you force yourself straighter and attempt to appear calm. “Not at all, sir. I only want to help.”
"Mm? Good girl,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down to your painted red lips. “Knew you’d behave for me.”
Your heart is hammering inside of your chest. You’re unsure what to do now. Do you ask him to leave? Do you scream for help? Do you call the police?
And where the hell is Johnny?
He should be here by now, especially after promising to wrap up his meeting early in order to catch your last performance before Christmas. He’s always here. One of your biggest fans and greatest protectors. 
The only thing you can truly think to do now is attempt to call him. You figure the police won’t get here in time, but at least if this gentleman can be assured that Johnny is on his way, he won’t be as inclined to act rashly.
However, the moment your fingers lift from the desk in order to reach for the phone, the stranger reaches for something, too.
In a matter of seconds, he’s wrapping his hand around the barrel of a gun, pulling it from his back pocket, and aiming it straight at your head. Cocking it loudly as you gasp and withdraw your arm as quickly as possible.
“What are you doin’, hm, mama?” There’s a haughty condescension in his sneer, laced with just the faintest disappointment. “Thought you were gonna be good.”
“I…I was just going to call him,” you stammer. “I know you’re in a hurry.”
The stranger studies you now, that familiar smirk beginning to fade as his attention flicks across your face. Perhaps he suspects a lie or perhaps he merely doesn’t trust you, but truth be told, you know better than to try and pull a fast one on him. 
Finally, he plucks his cigarette from between his lips before tossing it to the floor and nodding at you. “Yeah? Go on, then,” he instructs, reposition the barrel at your chest. “Call your little pretty boy. Tell him he’s got a visitor.”
With a racing pulse, you once again slowly reach for the telephone, eyeing the gun carefully as you scoot closer.
You’re careful not to make any sudden moments. Hesitant to even look at him for fear of upsetting him, but your timid demeanor only entertains him further.
He simply chuckles as he slowly makes his way over to your side of the desk. Snatching up the phone just before you can reach for it and handing it to you almost cockily.
Curious, you glance up. That soft green in his eye is almost alluring, even despite the circumstance. Still, he reeks of nicotine and expensive cologne, and you lean back in an attempt to put as much space between you as you can.
He smiles. “I’m gonna watch you dial,” he tells you calmly. “Make sure you keep your word. Okay, Doll?”
Posed like a question, although you both know you don’t exactly have a choice. And you'd likely point this out if you were just a touch braver, but nevertheless, you nod. Agreeing to his terms as you take the phone and begin to dial.
As the seconds go by, you feel him watching you closely while the line rings. Leaving you to desperately await the sound of your sweet Johnny’s voice. A sound you’ve never needed more than in this moment.
Yet his voice never comes, and your heart sinks to the cold floor blow as you return the phone to the desk.
“He…he must already be on his way,” you murmur, and the man hums.
“You think so?”
You nod weakly.
He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, just inches from your arm before leaning closer. “How much are you willing to bet, hm?” His brow raises. “How sure are you that your precious fiancé will actually save you tonight?”
You feel trapped by him now. The closer he moves, the faster your heart pounds. You have nowhere to run, no personal space to disappear into. 
But you only have to hold on for just a little longer. Johnny will come for you. He always does.
“Incredibly sure,” you respond, ignoring the slight waver in your voice. “He said he would be, so he will.”
The man considers this before clicking his tongue. “All right. Then how about I make you another deal, yeah? For every minute he’s late, and for every minute he leaves you here unattended…I’ll put an extra bullet through his head.”
A sharp chill runs down your spine, skin growing hot and prickly, but you force your expression to remain unfazed. “And why would you do that if you need him so badly?”
The gentleman laughs now. A sound that would almost be charming if he weren’t so vile. “Because I don’t need your precious Johnny,” he answers calmly. “I just need what’s in his safe.”
And despite the danger you’re in and despite your better judgment, your features scrunch into a grimace as you scoff, “Oh, how pathetic.”
Your reaction loosens his smile.
“Truly, how incredibly pathetic to come all the way down here at this time of night – and on Christmas Eve – just to break into his safe,” you huff. “Honestly. He won’t give you a damn thing. And you have absolutely no business to come storming in here and—”
You don’t get the chance to finish the rest of your furious scolding before he’s suddenly standing to his feet and wrapping his fingers around your arm.
Instantly, you’re yanked from your chair and shoved against the bookcase just behind you. Hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs as he traps you there, leaning in so close, his nose nearly brushes your own. 
“I’d be careful how you fucking speak to me, mama,” he seethes quietly, yet even still, there’s just an air of pleasure. “Because you might not get the chance to do it again.”
He’s desperate to scare you. Desperate to see you cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction.
Instead, you suck in a sharp breath, and do the one thing you can think to do:
You spit.
The collection of saliva just misses his eye, landing on his cheek with a rather wet splat until the amusement fades and fury takes its place.
His fingers leave your arm and find your throat, curling around the delicate skin and forcing your head up as he begins to chuckle darkly.
“So, that’s how you wanna play, hm, Doll?” Another tsk. “You wanna be bad? Wanna test my fucking patience?”
You squirm a bit in his hold, yet for some reason, you don’t feel as frightened as you did before. Because there’s this look in his eye – this hunger. And even though his grip is tight…you feel oddly safe.
“Better find a way to keep this pretty little mouth shut,” he says next, head cocking to the left almost curiously. “Or I’ll have to shut it for you.” 
His attention returns to your mouth, fingers slowly slipping up toward your chin until he can brush is thumb over the painted fibers of your lips.
Just enough to taunt you yet startle you all in the same second. 
“Maybe,” you finally breathe before jerking your head away from his cruel touch. “If you knew how.”
The cocky grin widens as his hand immediately returns to your neck. “Still disobeying me, hm?” he nearly purrs. “Guess I could always just squeeze this sweet, little throat to keep you quiet, yeah? Feel your pretty pulse beneath my fingertips. Feel the life drain from your body…watch the light go out in your eyes.”
You take in a strained inhale, and he makes a sound that almost sounds like a groan.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, moving in just a bit closer until his lips are ghosting across yours. “Or maybe…I could put my gun in your mouth. See how chatty you are then, yeah, mama?”
Your chest heaves anxiously, but you find just enough confidence to whisper, “But without your gun, how will everyone know what a tiny cock you have?”
And you’re so proud of yourself. So endlessly pleased with the way you’ve managed to make his smug expression waver, even if he keeps his smirk in place.
“Oh, you think that’s funny,” he snorts as you attempt to bite back a laugh. “Well, you wanna know what I think is funny? I think it’s funny that you said Johnny would be here…and he’s not.”
“He will be,” you retort, a bit firmer. “He will.”
“See…you keep saying that,” he muses, placing one hand on the bookshelf beside your head. Truly trapping you beneath him. “And yet…your noble fiancé still isn’t here to save you.”
You tilt your head back in an attempt to appear stronger, but it doesn’t seem to fool him. 
“Are you afraid?” he whispers, chest brushing against yours. “Are you afraid your Johnny won’t be able to keep you safe from the bad man?”
It’s almost hostile, the way he goads you. And yet you can hear just the slightest concern beneath his question.
“Or maybe you’re afraid he can’t pay up,” he continues. “Maybe you’re afraid he’ll have to find another way.”
Suddenly, the grip on your throat constricts. Recapturing your attention.
“Are you gonna be my other way, mama?” he exhales. “You gonna be my consolation prize?”
You feel dizzy. The room is spinning. And you aren’t sure if that’s because of the hold on your neck or the way he’s speaking to you. 
However, before you can decide if you’re actually intrigued by his intimidation tactics…the sound of footsteps echo outside through the hall.
Johnny.
It has to be him. You almost need it to be him, and your shoulders unwind as the man glances toward the closed door curiously before finally leaning back.
Then, he grabs onto your arm for a second time, and flings you back toward the chair. Shoving you down and keeping you still.
“You’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hisses softly right as the door swings open. “And then maybe…I just might reward you.”
But you don’t even mind this malicious threat because then you see him. Your fiancé, smiling brightly as his eyes find you before they flick to the man to your right.
For a moment, he seems surprised, seemingly assessing your position and the situation before his grin widens. 
“Ah, Mr. Styles,” he calls as he strides into the room, quickly removing his hat and coat. “What a pleasant surprise. Did we have a meeting tonight?”
He seems relaxed. Almost too relaxed, as though he doesn’t view this man as a threat, and you aren’t sure whether to feel relieved or wildly confused. You hadn’t exactly expected him to grab the mysterious guest by the collar and throw him out the window, but you also didn’t expect him to welcome him with open arms. 
A strange man is alone with his future wife, in his office, in the middle of the night, and that doesn’t seem to concern him even a little?
Perhaps Johnny is far too friendly for his own good.
The gentleman, in turn, straightens up while subtly slipping the gun behind his back. Tucking it into his belt just out of view before Johnny can catch it. “Not quite,” he says coolly. “I’m here to discuss a bit of unfinished business.”
Your heart sinks, yet Johnny merely nods. “Ah, I see. Well, is there any way this can wait until after Christmas? It’s been a long night, and I’d like to be getting the lovely lady home.”
Now, both of their stares turn to you, and eagerly, you begin to rise from the chair. Grateful for the opportunity to leave this unsettling stranger behind.
Yet before you can even find your footing, the man’s hand is coming down in a firm smack on your shoulder to force you back down.
“I’m afraid the lovely lady isn’t going anywhere,” he replies, and you catch Johnny’s expression fall. “And neither are you. Have a seat.”
Johnny begins to frown. “Look, Harry, whatever business we might have, I’m sure it can—”
“I said, have…a seat,” the man – Harry – repeats a bit brasher. “Yeah? Or things will get a lot worse for your darling fiancé.”
Johnny hesitates, eyes flicking to yours. But he must notice the panicked look you wear because he finally sighs and does as instructed. Taking a seat in the chair just in front of the desk before glancing toward Harry.
Harry nods, almost proudly. “There you go. S’not so hard, is it?”
Johnny’s figure slumps but his lips purse together. “What do you want?”
“Oh, I just want to talk,” Harry says, his smirk returning. “And lucky for you, your schedule just cleared up.”
“Harry—” Johnny begins, leaning closer as though getting ready to stand.
But instantly, Harry is reaching back behind him for the gun, pulling it free, and aiming the barrel straight at his head.
Johnny quickly leans back, eyeing the weapon hesitantly while you gasp and glance up at the stranger pleadingly.
Harry only looks at Johnny. “See, I’m running out of fucking patience. Eight goddamn months I’ve had to listen to you go on and on about this special fucking shipment you got. And now…it’s time to collect.”
Your sweet fiancé understands now. Realizes why this man is here and how real the threat is, and glances back at you almost apologetically.
You merely mouth, “It’s okay.”
Johnny’s eyes flick back to the gun. “I’d be careful waving that thing around. Somebody might get hurt.”
The man merely hums. “Oh, I’m fucking counting on it.”
Now, the office grows quiet. A tense, charged sort of energy that filters between the three of you as Harry begins to walk around the desk.
“So,” he continues, grabbing onto the other free chair in order to spin it around and sit in a straddle, “where’s the safe, Johnny?”
Johnny’s brow raises, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a thick swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Down at the club, you said you just got a brand new, fancy safe to hold everything from your latest shipment. Practically bragged about it to the whole goddamn bar, yeah? So…where is it?”
With piqued interest, you look between the two men curiously as you await Johnny’s answer. You’ve never really been sure where he gets all his money. You assumed most of it came from the bar and alcohol sales, so you’re rather stumped by what sort of shipment they might be referring to.
However, Johnny isn’t so quick to divulge all his secrets. “And what is it you’re expecting to get out of my safe, Mr. Styles?”
There’s another heavy pause as Harry rests his arms over the back of the seat and whispers, “Everything.”
Instantly, Johnny scoffs. “You think you can storm into my office on Christmas Eve and threaten my fiancé? Threaten me? That you’re entitled to anything you damn well please?” A bitter scoff as he leans back. “You’ll be arrested before morning, and you’ll never see a red fucking cent.”
 His retort dangles between them for only a moment as a breath catches in your throat. Pulse racing as you watch the stranger’s reaction closely.
Yet the mystery man doesn’t so much as flinch as he suddenly repositions the gun into the air, aims it just to the left of Johnny’s head, and fires.
The sound is deafening, much like your sharp, shrill shriek as the bullet flies through the air – just missing Johnny’s ear – and lodges into the wall behind him.
Johnny immediately flinches, eyes screwing shut and muscles recoiling before he seems to realize that he remains unharmed.
And once he does, he takes a deep breath, and begins to smirk. “You missed.”
“Did I?” Harry runs his tongue over his bottom lip before re-cocking the gun. “No, see…I never fucking miss. That was your first warning.” 
Johnny simply snorts. “Yeah? Well, eat my shit.”
Things move quickly from there.
Harry is instantly on his feet, tossing the chair aside rather angrily before he’s turning to you once more. And you don’t even have a moment to think before you’re being yanked from the seat for a second time and immediately tugged to his chest as he presses the barrel of the gun into the side of your temple. 
“Where’s the fucking safe, Johnny?” he says again, and you notice Johnny’s face pale.
“Styles,” Johnny murmurs, “you don’t have to do this—”
“The safe,” he seethes. “Where is it? Or do you need a little incentive, huh? Need to see her pretty little brains all over your goddamn floor? Is that what it’s gonna take?”
Poor Johnny doesn’t know what to do. He looks from the gun, to your face, to the arm keeping you hostage.
And you almost feel bad for him, yet you aren’t even afforded the chance for empathy before Harry furiously growls and shoves you in Johnny’s direction.
You stumble across the wooden floor until Johnny can quickly take you into his embrace, keeping you safe from the bad man as you begin to sniffle.
“My love,” he whispers, tightening his hold on your trembling frame while turning you away as if to protect you. “It’s gonna be all right, I promise.”
With a quick nod and a hiccup, you look up and slip your hands around his neck for comfort. “I know.”
He smiles.
It’s Harry’s disgusted sneer that brings you attention back. “Fucking pathetic. Really, mama? This is who you choose to save you?”
Your features fall ever-so-slightly while Johnny begins to pull you behind him, shielding you from the aggravated aggressor. “If you need money so badly, there are plenty of other ways.”
“It’s not just about money,” Harry retorts calmly. “It’s about your money. Yeah? So where’s the fucking safe.”
“None of your goddamn business—”
The reply no sooner leaves his mouth before there’s another gunshot fired into the air. 
One of the paintings on the wall falls with a crack and you jump almost two feet into the air, nails scratching down Johnny’s nice shirt.
“Johnny,” you whisper faintly, refusing to let this go on any longer. “Johnny, tell him. Tell him, please. I don’t care about the money; I don’t care about any of it. I just want you. I love you, and I can’t lose you.”
The office falls silent as you request hangs in the air, and you feel Johnny take in a deep breath.
“Yeah, Johnny,” Harry adds in a condescending murmur. “She loves you. Don’t make her watch you die. It’d be such a shameful waste of her tears.”
Johnny looks to you, and your expression softens. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “It’s okay, I promise.”
Finally, he sighs. “Under the desk.”
Harry’s head whips toward the large table curiously before he frowns. “Where?” he murmurs before repositioning the gun at Johnny’s chest. “I promise you don’t wanna lie to me.”
However, Johnny’s indifferent expression remains. “Under the desk,” he repeats while thrusting his chin toward the massive piece of furniture. 
And now Harry seems to understand, although it does little to relax him as he suddenly reaches for you again and yanks you from your lovers’ arms.
“Show me,” he hisses, keeping you hostage again while ushering Johnny forward with the barrel of the weapon. “And don’t be dense.”
And Johnny can do nothing but obey, seemingly defeated while sending you one last remorseful look. Finally moving to lift the desk and pull it back.
The sound of wood scraping against wood is heavy, and it takes him quite a while to relocate the table beneath the window by himself. 
But once it’s out of the way, you notice a particular part of the flooring juts out. The rotten board almost askew.
You and Harry lean closer, both magnetized by intrigue as he bends down in order to wrench the board up, revealing the hollow hiding place underneath.
And there you find it. The large, black box with a gold dial in the middle.
He glances up toward Harry, perhaps looking for permission – which Harry quickly gives him – before reaching down to put in the correct combination.
And after a couple seconds of clicking and turning…the door swings open.
Truth be told, you were hoping to find a secret gun that might help you out of this situation, but it seems there are no weapons to be found as Harry shoves you back in order to get a better look.
He no longer seems concerned about Johnny or the possibility that he might attempt to attack because Johnny seems to have given up. 
All your dejected fiancé does is straighten up and motion you back to him, watching Harry bend over and reach inside the safe almost uninterestedly. 
Your heart aches for him, yet you can’t help feeling relieved. You’re a few steps closer to this wretched night being over, and perhaps once Harry has what he came for, you’ll be able to leave.
“Are you all right?” Johnny whispers to you now as Harry begins to unload the contents in the floor. 
You nod quickly, clinging to his strong frame as though you’re scared you might be taken again. “Yes, I’m all right. Are you?”
“I will be once I know you’re safe,” he says, and your heart sinks.
Once everything inside the safe has been shoved into a bag, Harry turns to the two of you. “That was a good start, Winters. Now where’s the rest of it?”
Johnny frowns. “I don’t know what you mean. Everything I have is in there.”
But Harry only tsks as he sets the items down and begins to stride closer, making you curl even further into Johnny’s embrace. “Come on, now,” he mumbles almost tauntingly. “You know what I really want. And you know that you’re gonna fucking tell me. Isn’t that right, mama?”
He looks to you for only a moment as you swallow. 
Johnny begins to seethe. “No. No, you can have everything else, but you won’t touch that.”
“Johnny,” you try, unnerved by the sudden look of warning in Harry’s eye. “Johnny, please…just give it to him. Whatever it is, I don’t care, just…just make him leave.”
“Smart girl,” Harry adds. “Come on, Johnny boy, your darling fiancé is scared. Don’t you wanna save her?”
Your lover simply grows stiff, eyes narrowing at the faux sincerity in the stranger’s voice.
“Johnny,” you mumble again. “Johnny, please, he’s right. I’m scared and I don’t care about what you have or what you don’t have. I just want you. And I want him to go away.”
Still, Johnny wrestles with his decision. With the choice he’s being forced to make, and as the seconds go by, Harry’s patience reaches its limit.
He grabs for you – again. Forcing the weapon under your jaw this time around as Johnny’s muscles tense and his fingers curl into his fist.
“God, look at him,” Harry whispers to you now, lips ghosting up the shell of your ear while forcing your eyes on your fiancé. “Fucking look at your pathetic excuse for a man.”
You attempt to remain indifferent – appear unafraid – but he sees right through you.
“D’you really think he cares about you, Doll?” he murmurs. “Do you really think he’ll choose your life over his own?”
“Let her go,” Johnny barks, yet it only forces the barrel even further into your skin.
Your chin is tilted up, a sharp inhale getting caught in your throat until Harry begins to chuckle.
“How about this,” he says. “I’ll let you choose, mama. I’ll let you decide if he gets to watch me kill you…or if he gets to watch me take you. All for myself.”
“Fucking piece of shit—” Johnny hisses, but Harry simply tsks.
“So, what do you say? What’ll it be? Either way, I’ll have him on his goddamn knees by the end of the night. And then we all win, yeah?”
“Enough,” Johnny yells, and a strangled silence splits the air. “Fine. Fine, I’ll tell you. Just let her go.”
Harry’s arm begins to lower but not very far. “Once it’s in my hand, she’s all yours.”
And you want to resent these men for treating you like you’re some sort of object to be traded, yet you’d happily be given back to your lover if it meant you could leave this nightmare behind.
No matter the cost.
Johnny rolls his shoulders back and flicks his unrelenting stare back to his desk. “There. The picture.”
You feel your eyebrows raise while Harry slowly begins to loosen his hold on you.
“Get it,” he instructs, and with an aggravated sigh, Johnny obliges.
He retrieves the golden frame from the table before pulling open the back and removing the picture inside.
The picture of you.
It almost breaks your heart, the look on his face. Like he’s absolutely gutted to be defiling this memory of you both, and you ache to comfort him.
Once the photo has been plucked from the glass, you catch the faintest sparkle in the soft light of the moon, and hear yourself gasp.
There, sitting snug inside the small frame, is the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen.
It’s…stunning. The most gorgeous jewel you’ve ever been privileged to lay eyes on, surrounded by what you can only assume to be hundreds of tinier diamonds and rubies arranged in a delicate but intricate pattern. 
Altogether creating the most breathtaking necklace you’ve ever seen.
It has to be worth hundreds of dollars – thousands, in fact – and Harry reaches over to take it from the frame with the biggest Cheshire-like grin you’ve ever seen.
This is what he came for.
“You have it, all right? You have it, now go,” Johnny calls, already attempting to reach for you. “You got what you want.”
With an agreeable hum, Harry studies the necklace a moment longer before finally looking to you. “You’re right. We did, didn’t we?”
You both smile.
Instantly, you raise the gun that Harry had discreetly and secretly slipped into your hand only moments ago and aim it at Johnny’s chest.
Three.
Johnny’s expression shifts, eyes widening as he begins to piece together what’s really going on. Why Harry looks so proud and why you look so relieved.
Two.
His lips part. Ready to speak to you, whisper your name, ask for an explanation. And a part of you can’t help but wonder if you’ll feel any remorse for the deception you’ve put him through these past few months.
But as you stare at him now…you feel nothing but liberation.
One.
The third and final gunshot echoes through the air. Louder and far more permanent. Resolute.
Johnny stumbles back, unable to catch himself before he goes tumbling to the ground. A dark red stain expanding like watercolor across his chest, ruining the clean white shirt underneath.
You’d bought him that shirt.
And as the look of life slowly leaves his eye, you feel your muscles unwind, and your shoulders droop.
It’s over.
Harry’s got his arms around you before you can even release the deep breath you’ve been holding onto for so long. 
“Oh, good fucking girl,” he nearly groans, pressing his lips to yours for the first time in months as you sling your arms around his neck. “Fucking hell, I missed you, mama.”
If Harry had had it his way, Johnny would have been dead months ago. He never liked this plan – not because he thought you couldn’t handle it, but because the idea of going without you for so long nearly killed him.
But it was the only way to gain Johnny’s trust. And to find his true weakness. He never would have given you the location of the safe or the necklace if you’d simply held him at gunpoint from the get-go.
No, he needed a reason to cave, a reason to put his possessions on the line in order to save something else he truly cared about.
And that’s where you came in.
Sure, it was hard to be without Harry, but you knew it had to be done. Getting these items would set you up for years. You’d never have to work in sleazy bars again. You could simply be with him…forever.
And perhaps pretending to be a stranger to him and appear frightened of his intentions wasn’t quite necessary, but you happen to like the roleplaying aspect. 
The way he threatened your life as though he wouldn’t do everything in his power to protect it. The way he taunted you, teased you, scared you…when he knew deep down how much you fucking loved it.
You can still feel his fingers around your neck. The pressure of his hand against your throat, holding you still, keeping you close. You hadn’t felt it in months and a part of you wanted to keep the game going for just a bit longer if it meant you could have him.
You weren’t able to run into his arms and kiss him the way you can now and it’s…perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“Did he hurt you?” he whispers, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw. “Did he fucking touch you—”
“No,” you’re quick to assure him. “No, never. He wanted to, but I never let him.”
“Good.” He takes hold of your hip and gives it a firm squeeze. “Good girl, knew you’d be on your best behavior, yeah?”
You grin. “Of course. Only ever thought about you.”
“Is that right, doll?”
“Mhm.” You tuck your lip between your teeth and nuzzle your nose to his. “How could it ever be him?”
His lashes flutter, and you can see the edges of his frayed sanity coming loose. He’s had to pretend for far too long, and you don’t imagine he can do it much longer.
“Yeah?” he murmurs, nearly clawing at your dress. “Then, maybe I’ll—”
“What…did you do?”
The sound of Milton’s confusion pulls you apart instantly. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide, expression horrified. Looking from his boss, to you, to Harry, and back.
He sees the necklace on the desk, sees the gun in your hand, sees the bag of gold and cash lying at Harry’s feet.
He understands, and your heart almost sinks. Milton was one of the good ones.
Quickly, Harry takes the weapon from you and points it in Milton’s direction.
Milton only leans back with a soft inhale while you turn to your lover and whisper, “No. No, not him.”
Harry’s pursed lips and furrowed brows never waver. “What?”
“Not him,” you repeat, as firmly as you can.
And he hesitates for only a moment before dropping the weapon and nodding his chin at you. “Grab the bag and go out the window.”
You nod your understanding before stealing one last glance at the bartender by the door.
He’s heartbroken and terrified…but his features grow softer as he finally mumbles, “…five minutes. I’ll give you five minutes.”
And you can’t help but smile.
You rush to grab what you came for and hurry to the window, with Harry right behind you. You don’t have a lot of time. Once Milton makes the call to the police, you’ll need to be far enough away that they can’t find you.
You know they’ll be looking. Know they won’t stop until they find you both – after all, they’ve been searching for you for years.
But you don’t mind a life that’s on the run, as long as it’s with him. 
And the pleased smile he offers you now only confirms this.
You quickly lift the hem of your dress and begin over the ledge, with Harry right beside you to help. He takes your hand for support, keeping you steady until you can safely drop to the ground outside before he’s following suit.
The moment his feet hit the ground, you both run. The Chicago air is cold – frigid. You don’t have enough clothes to truly cover you and your feet are sore from having to wear these outrageous shoes all night.
But you somehow feel…alive. Invigorated and so very free. You have everything you’ve ever wanted.
You have him.
You both slip along the shadows as you make your way through town, leaving the speakeasy and Johnny Winters behind. After a minute or two, you hear the sirens in the distance, and the stakes are raised. They grow louder and louder the closer they get, and it’s then that Harry recaptures your hand and tugs you into a dark alleyway for cover.
This is where you stay until the cars have zipped down the street and proceeded without you. They don’t even think to look for you here and you’re rather impressed with your lover’s quick thinking.
Harry, however, isn’t as quick to revel in the success. Continuingly peeking around the corner in order to watch for anything unusual. Ignoring your amused laughter and giddy grin of accomplishment.
He’s on edge. Alert. Ready to run again if need be, and while you rather admire his practiced precision, you hope to put it to better use. 
You drop the bag near the wall and make your way for him, palms quickly finding his cheeks in order to pull his attention to you.
He grunts. “What?”
But you don’t answer with words. You answer with a kiss. A kiss that makes your stomach flip and your mind grow fuzzy.
And this seems to be explanation enough as he groans with approval and wraps his arms around your middle to keep you against his chest. Nipping and licking at you as though his life depends on it.
Perhaps it does.
He shoves you back against the brick after only a few seconds, finding the leverage he needs in order to deepen the kiss and truly claim you. In a way he’d been desperate to the moment he saw you sitting in that office in such a beautiful dress.
“Trying to distract me, hm?” he murmurs, and you can’t help but smile. “Yeah? Or did you just need me that badly?”
He spins you around, pressing your cheek to the cold blocks of clay before dancing his fingers down your spine. Indulging in you.
It makes your insides twist.
You feel the hem of your dress gather in his fist as he finally gets a proper look at what he’s been missing for months. And the sound he makes goes straight to your cunt.
“You filthy fucking thing,” he whispers, rather delightedly while moving in to trail his mouth along your neck. “Look at you. Look at how perfect you are.”
His fingers find your pussy, stroking over your covered slit once or twice before plucking the covering from your hips and dragging it down your thighs. 
“Just dripping for me, yeah? All fucking night.” He drags his palm up the inside of your leg. “Power makes you weak, doesn’t it, mama?”
You nod desperately, unable to answer with words.
But he understands, smirking to himself rather deviously before his hands are tangling in your hair in order to yank your head back. Just to hear you choke on a whine. “I’ve waited months for this. Yeah? M’gonna take my time with you…gonna make it worth it.”
And you don’t doubt that you will.
You nod again as the sound of his leather belt coming undone echoes between your ears. You’re trembling with anticipation, body aching for the feel of his cock. It’s been far too long, and you’ve nearly withered away without him.
You imagine he feels about the same, already fisting himself in one hand and readjusting your dress in the other. You hear him mumble something under his breath – you’re not quite sure what. But you suppose it doesn’t matter. He can say whatever he likes as long as he gives you what you need. 
Normally, he’d take his time. He loves to make a show out of ruining you, but there’s no chance for that tonight. No patience. So, he kicks your feet apart, grabs your hip, and eases himself in all before you can take a breath.
And it’s perfect. Exactly the way you remember. The stretch, the scratch, the desperation. Nobody feels the way he does, and you both know it.
He’s still for a moment, merely pushing himself in and watching your pussy swallow him whole. As if so overcome by the sensation that he can’t do much else. As if losing control over his own body.
So, you push against his chest to remind him you’re here while your fingers reach back for his hair in order to tug it softly.
You feel him smile against your cheek. “All fucking night,” he whispers the moment he’s buried to the hilt. “Knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?”
You grin as well. You’re rather happy he noticed.
“Spitting in my fucking face,” he continues. “Challenging me. Acting like a fucking brat. S’all cause you were so fucking needy for me, wasn’t it, mama?”
“Maybe,” you can’t help but retort. “Maybe I knew you’d like it.”
He laughs now. A low, deep, sadistic sound from the back of his throat. Using his hold on your scalp to force your head into his shoulder. “Is that right, hm?”
You only nod.”
“Yeah? Then say it,” he hisses. “Tell me you missed me. Tell me you missed my cock. That nobody fucks you like I do—”
He accompanies this request with his first, sharp thrust. Pulling back only to drive himself in so hard, the air is nearly knocked from your lungs.
“Because they can’t, can they?” he coos, yet it’s angry. Fingers moving from your hair to your neck. Squeezing until you gasp. “Nobody knows how to treat this little pussy like I do. Do they?”
You fall mute. Going limp in his hold as the pleasure begins to build.
“You love it when I fuck you like this.” His nose presses to your cheek as he breathes, your delicate throat a plaything in his touch. “Love it when I kill for you. Love it when I make you mine—”
You gasp at the ecstasy, hardly able to hear him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You love me,” he murmurs, and you just about disappear into his embrace.
“I do,” you gasp, almost too loudly. “I do, Harry, please—"
“Quiet,” he hisses, glancing now toward the street in order to make sure the police haven’t found their way to you. “You know better than that. You’ll take me and you’ll do it quietly. Understood?”
Your only response is to whimper pitifully while your nails scratch down the brick walls of the alley.
In turn, he grasps onto your jaw, forcing your head to the side until your eyes can meet. “I said, is that fucking understood?”
“I thought you said to be quiet,” you can’t help but retort, and he hums.
“Oh, is that how you wanna play it?” He releases your throat only to take hold of your hips once more and spin you around between thrusts. Quickly returning to his place between your thighs before lifting one of your legs and hiking it around his waist.
“What…” you begin, chest heaving as the tip of his cock drags down your clit. “What are you—” 
“Had to see you,” is his gritted response. “Had to see this pretty, bratty face as I ruined you.”
You imagine you’d smile if you weren’t so close to coming apart, but he understands. Pressing his forehead to yours before reaching up toward the top of your dress and ripping the fabric down to reveal your chest. 
You can tell he’s been wanting to do this all night. Know he’s been ogling your tits from behind the expensive fabric since the moment he walked in, and truth be told, that’s the real reason you wore it. 
Not because Johnny loves you in red.
But because Harry deserved to look at something pretty.
The cold air meets your skin with an unforgiving fervor, and you squirm against the brick as Harry’s eyes fall to the tattered fabric lying so pathetically on your chest.
Instantly, his head dips, mouth leaving open and sloppy kisses to the beautiful pair before him. Tongue stroking the hardened nipples rather respectfully, all things considered.
In turn, you run a hand through his dark curls as he does this to you. As you watch him take whatever he wants. Feeling the way his hair moves like butter between your fingers. The way he hums against you. The way his lashes flutter.
You��ve missed this.
Then, your grip tightens, and you yank his head up until his lips can meet yours. And you take. Take the taste of him, the taste of you, and the taste of victory.
His palm comes up to rest against the wall beside your head. Steadying himself as he works to find that perfect rhythm again. Over and over and over.
And all you can do is move your anxious kisses to his throat as he fucks into you. Whispering, “Nobody, baby. Nobody feels like you do. Nobody.”
Your fingers trail down his strong back, feeling each muscle that dips and flexes as he moves. The way he grunts when you scratch your nails down his spine. The way he consumes you and succumbs to you all at once.
Johnny was beautiful, but Harry is a beast. You’ve never seen a man like this before – never felt a man like this before. Every curve of his body is ethereal. Every detail, every touch.
Your touch continues to move lower and lower down his strong frame until you find something at the base of his spine.
And it makes you grin.
You slip it from his belt with ease, feeling the way it sits firmly in your hand as though it were made for it.
Harry doesn’t seem to notice. Or perhaps he just doesn’t care with the way he’s so deep into you. Emotionally, physically.
But he’s quickly pulled from his pleasured trance the moment he feels the familiar, cool touch of his gun sweeping across his jaw.
He stills. Straightening up ever-so-slightly, eyes finding yours.
But you’re too busy gazing at the barrel that dances across that beautiful face. 
After all, he got to have his fun this evening.
Now it’s your turn.
You bring it to a stop just under his chin, tilting his head up exactly the way he’d done to you earlier as he releases a deep breath.
“Mama…” he warns, but you only hum.
This isn’t the first time this deadly weapon has made this an unofficial threesome, but it is certainly the first time you’ve been the one to wield it.
You hate guns. You do. But you love Harry’s. The way he holds it. The way he handles it. The way he uses great care and great power.
Because there’s something about seeing him with it. Seeing the way he controls it, controls the room. The way he holds someone’s life in the palm of his hand…
Perhaps you should be concerned by how enamored you are by it. By him.
But not tonight. Tonight, you simply enjoy.
And from the look in his eye, he seems to be enjoying it, too.
After all, you know he loved watching you use it on Johnny. Know he almost had you right then and there, on Johnny’s desk, before the mission was even through.
He’s endlessly pleased with you, and you can’t help but use this to your advantage.
So, with the weapon still taut to his clenched jaw, you lean forward and ghost your lips over his. “What’s the matter, Daddy? Does power make you weak?”
The twitch of his cock is answer enough.
You go in for the kill. With your fingers dancing over the trigger button, you lean back and dip down before dragging your tongue up the length of the barrel.
His eyes nearly roll back, and the sound that leaves his chest is euphoric. You think you might just kill him.
Because you’re slow. Meticulous. Licking every inch of the weapon until you finally reach the tip still tucked just beneath his chin.
Then…you kiss him.
And he’s so overwhelmed that he growls into your mouth, no longer threatened by the gun at his throat. Instead grabbing onto the back of your neck in order to squeeze it tight and keep you close. Devour you the way he’s been so frantic to.
You don’t even realize that you’ve begun to lower the gun until you feel it snatched from your grasp.
And pressed tightly to your clit.
The cold surface of the weapon against the warmest part of your body has you arching your back with a whimper. He has the upper hand once more, and he’s certainly not about to waste it. Mouth curling up into a satisfied, smug grin at the way your expression has gone hazy.
You’ve never looked at another man the way you look at him and he knows it.
“Is this what you wanted?” he asks softly, adding just enough pressure to make you whine. “All fucking night? The moment you saw me? Saw my gun? Wanted me to fuck you with it?”
Your nails meet your chest, scratching down the frigid skin in a desperate attempt to find something to ground you.
His only response is to drag the tip of the weapon down just a bit further. Until he can watch it glisten in you.
“Fucking looking at you,” he muses beneath a strained exhale, enamored by the way you subconsciously begin to grind on it. “So desperate to feel it. To be fucked by it. And what if I do, hm? What if I fuck you with my gun right here in this alleyway?”
You only whisper his name and an airy, “Please…”
“I thought about it,” he continues quietly, nose brushing yours as he slips the soaked barrel back up your cunt. “Thought about ripping off this pathetic little dress and fucking you right in front of your precious fiancé.”
You wish he had.
“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you, mama?” His fingers drum against the handle. “Yeah? I know you would. Would have loved to watch him watch me.”
And he’s not wrong. He hardly ever is when it comes to your darkest fantasies, and it’s just one of the many reasons why you love him.
“But I had to wait,” he tells you now, finally pulling the gun away from your dripping clit until you nearly crumple to the cold concrete below. “Because after all this time…I’m the only thing that gets to fill you tonight, yeah?”
You simply nod again as he brings the gun back to your mouth with a proud grin.
And you know exactly what he wants, swiping your tongue all along the barrel and tasting every drop, every indication of your need for him. Swallowing it all as he watches proudly.
The moment you’re finished, he takes the gun and returns it to his pocket, tucking it away safely. Because he’s right again, and you need to feel him far more than you’ve ever needed anything else.
So, you grasp onto his face and bring his lips to yours, allowing him to pick up right where he left off.
Because as much as you love the power…you love being weak for him more.
At least in moments like this.
He fills you and fucks you until you’re dizzy. Until you can taste the pleasure and the unraveling. 
You make a show of it. A way to apologize for all the time lost. Trailing the tips of your fingers along your own chest and down your sternum until you notice you have his attention.
He watches you take your tit into your palm before you’re tweaking the hardened nipple with a soft whine. Allowing your head to drop back into the wall while you do it again and again.
And he’s an angry sort of infatuated. Groaning almost pitifully before kissing you again and easily swatting your hand away in order to do it himself.
But that’s still not enough. So, you play your ace, and move your touch down to your clit in order to pinch it exactly the way he likes.
And it’s beautiful. The most exhilarating feeling, and this is what sends him over. The feel of your pussy clamping down on his cock, the sight of your fingers against your clit, the sound of your pathetic whimpers and pants as you cry out his name.
He fills you before he can stop himself, kissing you quickly as he releases into your aching, abused cunt. 
Claiming you in more ways than one until you have no choice but to follow.
It rips you apart in the same way he ripped the dress. Until you see stars, and your back arches, and your toes curl. And everything makes sense.
He works to make it last for as long as he can, and once it’s all over, there’s a soft, tender moment of silence as you work to catch your breath.
You forget about everything else. The sirens, the lies, the deceit. Even Johnny. You forget about it all.
Because you got more than a diamond necklace tonight.
You got Harry back.
After a second or two more, you lazily reach up to sweep some of his rogue curls from his forehead. Wanting to really see his eyes as he holds you tonight.
“Harry?” you whisper into the cold, dark alley.
He hums. “Yes, mama?”
“I love you.”
And you’ve never seen him so happy. “I love you more,” he breathes, kiss you again as if to cement this vow.
Eventually, the moment comes to pass, and you have to drop your leg back down to the floor and part from him. You find that your muscles are sore, and just a touch achey, but you don’t even mind. Because it’s somehow just as deliciously pleasurable.
Harry works to readjust your dress and keep you covered; despite the way he’s ruin the expensive fabric. He offers you his jacket – insists on it. Wrapping it around your shoulders before you can even argue.
You smile as you snuggle into the warm material, feeling calmed by the familiar smell of him.
“There,” he says as he looks at you before his head tilts. “Just missing one thing.”
Curious, you watch as he slips his hand back into his pant pocket in order to fish something out.
The necklace.
He hadn’t told you about it before the mission. Only about the safe, and now you think you’re beginning to realize why.
He places it around your neck and readjusts the clasp until it can sit comfortably over your heart. 
And you both look down as it sparkles from your chest, smiling together as though you truly can’t believe it’s real.
“You like it?” he whispers.
You grin so wide, your cheeks hurt. “I love it.”
He kisses you again, and it’s perfect.
Everything. All of it.
Him.
Suddenly, a loud toll echoes through the small town. The sharp chime coming from the clocktower in the town square.
Once, twice, three times. 
Midnight.
“It’s Christmas,” you realize aloud as you and Harry both glance toward the clock. 
His expression softens, and it makes your heart soar. “I guess it is.”
And then…you feel it. The first drop of something cold on your cheek. And then another. And another. And another. Gathering in your hair, getting stuck on his lashes.
Snow.
With a gasp, you look up into the dark sky as it dances down onto the quiet Chicago streets.
A rather perfect ending to a perfectly imperfect day.
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
With a soft giggle, you curl yourself under his arm and press your lips to his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”
He laughs, and you’ve never been so happy.
“Merry Christmas, Mama.”
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I'M SORRY THIS ONE GOT A BIT DARKER, IT WAS FUN BUT MOSTLY JUST FOR THE ERA ASPECT!! Thank you for reading if you did and letting me write something a little weirder 😭💞
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs
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angelisverba · 9 months
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someone sent a mafia ask and i won’t be posting it bc…. i like it….. all i will say is thanks for the inspo 🤓
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smuttyaf · 2 months
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The Business
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚.
𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞: 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞/𝐠𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫, 𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬 & 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐝𝐬𝐦. 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬:
his life is starting to affect you.
𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧’𝐬 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛:
the story about how you meet.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐭:
harry shows you what he does for work.
𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐫. 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬: ( 𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 )
harry introduces bdsm.
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐦
secrets cut wounds into the relationship.
𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞
you’re compelled to adapt to his lifestyle.
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hsgucci94 · 7 months
Text
His weakness
Prologue
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"I didn't think you were the type to lose your sanity for a girl,” Wyatt, his right hand, admitted, pouring himself a glass of scotch and sitting on the armchair opposite to him.
"I didn't either," Harry simply replied, looking at a fixed point.
Wyatt chuckled, "Well, I only hope she won't interfere with our business, or she'll eventually regret messing with the mafia."
Harry gave him a death stare, and that was enough to keep his partner silent. "She won't," he stated, now playing with the rings on his fingers, "I would have never guessed she was the type to stay with someone like me, but she is."
"Does that mean you'll take her with you when the times comes?"
"It means I'll do anything to protect her. And I can't do that from prison."
He was doing business with the devil while running from the FBI. And while it was not the ideal lifestyle, it was his, and you were willing to go through it all for him.
Some said you had been brainwashed, others that you had gone crazy, but little did they know that you just happened to have fallen in love with a criminal.
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His weakness, a mafia!harry short story.
Read the published parts here:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Please, like & share if you liked it? it’ll help so much 🥺✨thanks!! x
full masterlist
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