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berrynarrybanana · 9 months

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I haven’t been on in ages, but so many anons have been asking for this one because the link in my master list hasn’t been working 😭 I fixed it on the master list, but here’s a reblog!

“One more fucking sound out of you and you’re done for.” Harry turned on his heel, snapping at the man tied to the chair in your living room.

Sadly, it wasn’t the first time you came home to someone being held captive in your home. Harry tried his best not to bring strange criminals into your home, but sometimes he really didn’t have a choice. You knew one thing for sure though, this man was not going to make it out of your apartment alive. Harry would never risk letting someone go with the knowledge of what your home looked like or where it was. He was much smarter than that. With a sigh, you dropped your bag and your keys on the table by the front door. Harry turned back to look at you, his face changing from anger to desperation the second your eyes met. With a quick shake of your head, you walked past the man tied to a chair in your living room and straight to the kitchen. Harry was hot on your heels, waiting for you to speak first. He knew you didn’t want to hear apologies, you wanted answers. You wanted to know why this was happening, again, after you specifically told him you would castrate him if he did it again. Clearly he didn’t like sex as much as his job.

With tension in your shoulders after a long day at work, all you wanted was a very full glass of wine and very unhealthy food. On your way home, the only thing on your mind was a nice quiet evening with Harry, some takeout, and maybe an orgasm or two. That all flew out the window the moment you walked inside. After bypassing the wine and heading for the whiskey, you poured yourself a glass before chucking it back and pouring another. Finding the words to say in this situation was hard. Harry knew he was wrong, yet he still did it. He did exactly what you warned him against and he was just hoping an apology was going to get him off the hook for the hundredth time. When you turned around, he was standing on the opposite side of the kitchen island, giving you your space as he should do.

“Why?” You croaked out, taking another sip of your drink.

Harry sighed, hanging his head with his hands pressed into the countertop. He wasn’t in a suit, which was a little weird. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt. His hair was unstyled and he looked tired. His eyes were heavy and his face looked fuller. He looked like he just woke up. You took note of his sweatpants as he rounded the corner of the island, still keeping his distance as you eyed him. Maybe there was a good reason here?”

“He broke in while I was napping on the couch.” Harry said softly. “Don’t know who is or who sent him. I was hopin’ to have him out of here before you got home but he’s not giving anything up.”

You raised your brows, looking over his features.

He was telling the truth. You could see it in his eyes. Harry had only lied to you a handful of times in your relationship. You knew what he was like when he wasn’t telling the truth. He was defensive and jumpy. This was nothing like that. This was defeat and guilt. With a sigh, you put your glass on the counter behind you before standing up straight. You walked towards Harry as he crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t frowning, but he was definitely about to start pouting. With a brush of your thumb over his cheek, you sighed.

“Do you trust me?” You whispered, looking over his shoulder at the man.

“What?” Harry’s face scrunched up in confusion as he looked at you.

“Do you trust me?” You asked again, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“Yes.” He whispered.

With a quick nod, you turned on your heel to grab another glass. You poured some whiskey into the glass before walking right past Harry and back to the living room. Harry turned to watch you as you walked. The guy was still struggling, trying to fight his way out of the ropes that had him strapped down to your dining chair. Harry was going to owe you a new dining table after this. With a soft smile, you walked in front of the man, glancing back at Harry as he watched you from the kitchen with his arms still crossed. Thankful for his trust, you sent him a wink before looking down at the man tied to the chair.

“Listen, honey-”

“Brad.” The guy tilted his head, spitting onto your marble floor. “Names fucking Brad, not honey.”

“Okay,” You said softly. “You look a little stressed, Brad. Would you like a drink?”

“I don’t think it could hurt.” He let out a bitter laugh, looking up at you through swollen eyes. Your husband never was one for showing mercy. “Whiskey?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, letting out a soft laugh. “I normally don’t go for liquor, but my husband back there has pissed me off- again I might add. Not the first time I’ve come home to this.”

“I imagine not.” He said.

You walked forward, putting the glass to his lips before tipping it back.

He downed it in a matter of seconds and you gave him a sickeningly sweet smile. Keeping your eyes on his, you let him know who was in charge in this situation.

“Harry, darling,” You called out, holding the glass up. “Another drink for the man?”

Harry walked over to you, glaring.

“What the fuck are you getting at?” He snapped, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Don’t worry about me, darling.” You glanced up at him. “Brad and I are having a lovely chat here and after the beating you put him through, I think he deserves a few drinks with a pretty lady.”

Harry’s cheeks grew red as he snatched the glass out of your hands, turning on his heel and stomping back to the kitchen. He trusted you, but that didn’t mean he had to like your methods. You heard the glass slam on the counter as you moved closer to Brad.

“So, Brad,” Softly, you brushed your fingertip over his face. “Why were you in my home?”

“None of your business.” Brad said quickly. “This concerns that bastard and my boss, no one else.”

“So you work for someone else?” You hummed, trailing your finger down his neck and over his shoulder before walking behind him. “A former colleague of my husbands or an enemy?”

“I said it was none of your business.” He snapped. You stood behind him, an annoyed and fake smile on your lips as you slipped your fingers into his hair.

“Brad, honey,” He squirmed under you. “We both know you’re going to die before Harry let’s you out of this. So how about I make you a deal?”

“No.” Brad and Harry said at the same time.

Harry was next to you, holding a drink in his hand. You shot him an icy glare before walking back around to stand in front of Brad.

“How about one last meal with a pretty lady before my husband kills you?” With a smile, you dropped down to your knees in front of Brad, dropping your hands to his thighs with a seductive glint in your eyes. “He’s pissed me off and I don’t want him to get his way, Brad. Neither do you, right?”

“Right.” He said slowly, looking at you.

Harry’s grip on the glass in his hand was so tight, you thought it might shatter.

“So how about I get a little revenge on my husband and you have one last good time before you die?”

“You’re insane.” Brad whispered, looking down at you.

“Certifiably.” You forced yourself to smile wider. “What do you say, Brad? Want to piss him off even more?”

Harry threw the glass as you slipped your hands a little further up Brad’s thighs. You were nauseous at the thought of actually touching Brad. But you knew you wouldn’t do it. You would never do anything like that to Harry. Brad sputtered out as you pushed his shirt up a little, your fingers dancing over the waistband of his jeans. He was getting hard, you could feel it against your wrist as you looked up at him.

“Frank Quinton.” He sputtered out. “It’s Frank Quinton!”

“Why?” I asked, popping the button to his jeans. I shot Harry a look, praying that he would catch the drift.

Harry was already in the kitchen, ripping a drawer open. You knew he kept a gun in that drawer for protection. It freaked you out at first, but after years of this life, you knew better. Harry stalked over as Brad started to curse under his breath.

“One of Harry’s men fucked Frank’s daughter.” Brad sputtered. “Doesn’t settle well with the boss. He thinks the guy took advantage of her. Please, baby, touch me.”

Harry pointed the gun at Brad’s skull, but you shot him a pleading look.

“Which one of Harry’s men?” You started to pull his zipper down.

The moment your Brother’s name left Brad’s lips, Harry shot.

You flinched, immediately pulling your hands of Brad before you hit the ground. Harry lowered his gun, his eyes trained on you as you took a deep breath in. When silence fell over your apartment, you scrambled to your feet as the bile began to rise in your throat. Your heels hit the marble floor as you ran to the sink, hovering your head over it. The whiskey and some of your lunch came out as you reached up to hold your own hair back. You had only seen a few men be killed in your time of knowing Harry and never once had you seen him do the killing. It was always his henchman. When you were done throwing up the contents of your stomach, you stood up, reaching for your whisky glass to rinse your mouth out. You spit the whiskey out, taking a deep breath before you closed your eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry snapped.

“I did what I had to do to get answers.” You whispered, turning around. Harry was beyond livid and for some reason, that fueled your anger even more. “You don’t get to be mad.”

“You were about to blow a fucking enemy in our living room while I watched you!” Harry shouted, pointing back at Brad’s dead body. “That is not okay.”

“But shooting him in the head in front of your wife was?” You shouted back. “You killed a man in front of me. I was still touching him.”

“I’m well fucking aware of that.” He growled. “I know you’re upset, but I was protecting our fucking home! Touching some other guy isn’t a way to get back at me.”

“I got farther in five minutes than you did.” I snapped. “I asked you if you trust me and clearly you don’t. If you trusted me, you would have known that I would never cheat on you. I unbuttoned his pants, Harry. I didn’t fuck him in front of you.”

‘

“It seemed like you would have gone that far, yeah?” Harry let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“I’m going to fucking kill you right after I go kill my fucking brother.” With a grumble, you walked past Harry. “Daft fucking idiots. I swear to god-”

Before you could get a few steps away, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you back into his chest. He was heaving, his nostrils flared and his eyes wide. When you looked up at him, his eyes roamed over your face. Within seconds, Harry’s lips were pressed to yours and you were being shoved against the counter top. Your arms hung by your side as Harry grabbed your face in his hands, giving you everything he had. All traces of the day melted away as you spoke through a heated kiss. You didn’t always need words with Harry. This kiss was breathtaking. This kiss was an apology, from both of you.

“Harry.”

When his lips pressed to your neck, you tossed your head back, moaning.

“There’s a dead body in our living room.”

“I don’t fucking care.” He growled, his hands dropping down to the back of your neck so that he could unzip your dress. After a few seconds of struggling, he spun you around, ripping the zipper down. “You were gonna fuck him in front of me, weren’t ya?”

“No.” You shook your head as Harry slipped your dress off your shoulders.

He pressed his lips over the skin of your back repeatedly as his hands gripped your hips. He pulled you back into him, your ass brushing against his dick in his sweatpants.

“See what you do to me?” He growled, nipping at your earlobe. “You drive me crazy, you crazy girl.”

“Harry.” You moaned his name, dropping your head back.

“Go to our room, now.” He pulled away from you, just like that. “I want you naked when I come in, yeah?”

“Wait-”

“I have to call your brother.” He said as you turned around. “He clean up his own fucking messes.”

“Baby.” You whispered, reaching up to brush your fingers over his cheek. “Don’t lose that fire, yeah?”

“Don’t worry,” He pulled his phone from his pocket before lifting it up to his ear. “I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of you, darling. I’m gonna make you scream.”

“Yeah?” You smiled softly. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

You walked past Harry, avoiding the dead body in your living room as you headed for the stairs. Quickly, you stripped out of your dress before walking to your bathroom. You grabbed your robe, tying it up as you looked at yourself in the mirror. There was blood on your face. Just a few little specks, but still enough to send you straight to the toilet again. You dropped to your knees, tears welling up in your eyes as you dry heaved. There was nothing left in you anymore. Suddenly, having sex with your husband was at the back of your mind. Standing on shaky feet, you barely made it to the shower. When you turned the hot water on, you stripped out of your robe and jumped under the spray. Secretly, you were thankful your husband was stupid rich. The waterfall shower head was exactly what you needed right now. The steam rose around you as you stood under the spray, your head tilted up to catch the water. The heat and lack of food in your stomach left you dizzy. As your body swayed back, you reached out to try and catch yourself, but Harry’s hands caught you first. He pressed himself into your back, his forearms slipping under your own and pressing hard against your side. He had you steady on your feet in seconds.

“Darling?” He said quickly, ducking his head to try and catch a look at your face. Your eyes were shut, but you were squeezing them shut. You hadn’t passed out at least. “I need you to talk to me. Are you okay?”

“Tired.” You croaked out. “I threw up again.”

“You’re not one to have a weak stomach.” Harry’s brows furrowed in worry. “Are you coming down with something?”

“Don’t know.” You opened your eyes, trying to turn around in his arms. “I need to go to bed. I need food.”

“I got you.” He said softly, reaching behind you to turn the shower off. “Already ordered some takeout, should be here soon.”

“The dead body?” Saying his name would only make you vomit again.

“Your brother took him.” Harry whispered. “Come here.”

Harry wrapped you in a hug, kissing the top of your head a few times. After a few seconds, you wrapped your arms around him. A few tears started to fall as you pressed your face into his wet shirt. He jumped in the shower fully clothed to catch you. What a hero. Harry shushed you softly, brushing his hand over the back of your head as he apologized.

“I’m sorry.” You pulled back, sniffling as you looked up at him. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, I just wanted it to be over with.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry brushed his bruised knuckle over your cheek. “Should have called you and told you not to come home yet.”

“Next time.” You teased, giving him a soft smile. “You know I wouldn’t-”

“I know, darling.” He leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I’m gonna call the M.D and have him run over to check on you, yeah? After takeout?”

“Maybe tomorrow?” You whispered, closing your eyes as Harry kissed over your face. “I’m so tired I could sleep standing up.”

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” He pulled back, keeping a hand steady on your bicep as he grabbed a towel.

Once he wrapped you up in the soft, fluffy towel, Harry smiled down at you with a glint in his eyes. He crouched down, settling his left arm behind your knees and his other arm behind your shoulders. You squeaked out as your feet left the ground. Harry let out a loud laugh, tossing his head back as he walked out of the shower and the bathroom. He playfully dropped you onto your bed before leaning down to kiss your lips softly. He quickly pulled away, scrunching up his face as you furrowed your brows at him.

“Taste like vomit, babe.” He shook his head. “Gross.”

“Fuck off!” You laughed at him, kicking his thigh with your foot. “Grab me some pajamas you utter dick.”

“Anything for the baddest bitch on the west side.” He winked. “Using your seduction skills to get information. If I wasn’t married to you, maybe I would hire you.”

You rolled your eyes, snorting as Harry walked over to the closet.

It didn’t matter what he did or who he killed.

You were always going to be head over heels for Harry Styles.

There was no doubt in your mind.

intruder // h.s

a/n : I don’t know what this is. A little snippet of Mafia!Harry to see if I enjoyed writing it. Turns out I did. I hope you all enjoy it! (P.S I made that very shitty mood board up there, don’t judge me.)

Trigger warnings: blood, gore, guns, alcohol, dead people and stuff.

“One more fucking sound out of you and you’re done for.” Harry turned on his heel, snapping at the man tied to the chair in your living room.

Sadly, this wasn’t the first time you had come home to someone being held captive in your home. Harry tried his best not to bring strange criminals into your home, but sometimes he really didn’t have a choice. You knew one thing for sure though, this man was not going to make it out of your apartment alive. Harry would never risk letting someone go with the knowledge of what your home looked like or where it was. He was much smarter than that. With a sigh, you dropped your bag and your keys on the table by the front door. Harry turned back to look at you, his face changing from anger to desperation the second your eyes met. With a quick shake of your head, you walked past the man tied to a chair in your living room and straight to the kitchen. Harry was hot on your heels, waiting for you to speak first. He knew you didn’t want to hear apologies, you wanted answers. You wanted to know why this was happening, again, after you specifically told him you would castrate him if he did it again. Clearly he didn’t like sex as much as he liked his job.

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