GUESS WHO FUCKIN WROTE SOMETHING AGAIN???????? Me xox
I’m super into gang/mob Harry rn so I wrote this as part of a little blurb series 🥺🥺🥺
STRIPPER Y/N and GANG LEADER HARRY (who owns the club obviously) have been dating for about 6 months. He loses his temper with her when tensions in the gang are mounting.
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You glanced at the clock as the last customers left the bar. 2.30am, an early finish. You opened the door to Harry’s office, smiling at the boys sitting in there.
“Harry, everyone’s gone,” your eyes landed on him. He was at the big leather chair behind a giant mahogany desk. The room was dim and smelled like whisky. He didn’t lift his eyes from his computer, forehead set in a deep frown.
“Okay, darling. Thank you for tonight,” he dismissed you as if you were just any of the other girls. He didn’t even sneak a glance at you standing in your lingerie. Did he forget you’d made plans tonight? Your smile faded slightly, but you just nodded and backed out of the room, sensing he was a little busy.
You changed out of your stage attire and makeup into your jeans, an oversized t shirt and converse, before going back out into the bar. It was completely empty now, even the bar staff had finished cleaning and counting up and had left. You glanced at the clock again: 3.10.
You knocked on the door of the office softly, before opening it and sticking your head in. Everyone was still sat there.
“Hello guys,” you smiled. They all nodded back. “Just to let you know, the bar staff have all left. We’re good to go whenever.” Harry always liked to be the last to leave, but often had to be told when this was as he was cooped up in his office for a lot of the night. This time, he gave you a fleeting glance, nodding curtly. You took this as your cue to leave. Why was he being so weird with you tonight?
You retreated back to the dressing room and sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone to kill some time. You didn’t even realise you’d fallen asleep until your eyes were opening again. Sunlight streamed through the frosted window of the large dressing room. The clock read 5.25am. You rubbed your eyes, exhaustion overwhelming. The level of tiredness you felt was enough to make you want to cry, and your aching muscles protested when you forced yourself up to go to the office once again.
You pushed open the door.
“Harry, is it time to head-“
“Oh would you just fuck off, y/n?!” Harry shouted across the room. All of the men froze. Your eyes widened, mouth slightly agape. You blinked slowly, before simply turning and leaving the room, head hung.
“Mate, do you not think that was a bit harsh?” Niall asked. Harry rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his computer.
“Yeah, I’m not gunna lie Harry, that was a bit uncalled for,” Louis continued, leaning back in his chair to look through the open door to see if you were hovering outside. You weren’t. Harry still didn’t respond, but he softened. The door of the main entrance of the club opened and closed quietly.
“It’s been a really stressful week, guys,” Harry eventually tried to defend himself.
“A stressful week doesn’t mean you take it out on her though. She doesn’t know what’s going on. All she knows is you stay in this room all fucking day then leave her to get home alone when her shift finishes.” Liam was angry at him, and wasn’t trying to hide it.
You’d grown very close to his men since Harry had opened up to you about what he did and who they all were a couple months ago. They’d even have some meetings at Harry’s while you were there, and they didn’t mind you walking in in your pyjamas to make a tea or grab a snack. They DEFINITELY didn’t mind when you came over with something you’d baked that morning. This also meant they were more protective of you. To them, you were one of the gang now, even though Harry would never officially let you join. Whenever you were on the club floor selling drinks, dancing on stage, doing lap dances, one of them was always watching. You’d noticed that whenever someone was particularly disrespectful they’d be removed instantly. They protected you from the creeps in the bar, they stopped the bouncers from hitting on you, they even would watch you get into your car and leave if Harry wasn’t driving you, so if they had to protect you from their boss, they would.
“She can’t keep fucking bothering me!”
“Why not? Because you won’t talk to her about work so she doesn’t actually know you’re stressed out?” Harry was stumped with that one. “Mate, you need to use your brain. She’s got no idea why you just shouted at her. She’s got no idea about the threats or the cancelled shipments. All she knows is her boyfriend is acting like a dick. Go find her and apologise.” Liam borderline demanded. Harry glanced at his watch and had to do a double take. It was 5.30?! You’d finished work three hours ago and had stayed around for him, and he’d thrown it back in your face. Sighing and running a hand through his hair, he simply nodded and stood, picked up his jacket, and swept out of the club.
Driving home, he grew more and more frustrated. He realised all the things that he had done wrong, he couldn’t imagine how you felt. Of course, he didn’t want you involved in the gang in any sense, but you didn’t know a single thing they did, so how could you have known there had been threats on peoples’ lives this week? People had even been seen hanging around the club, checking it out, scaling it up. You couldn’t know, all you knew was your boyfriend had made your favourite food and you were gunna go back to his place after work for a cosy night. He prayed you’d gone to his house.
Throwing open the front door, Harry breathed an audible sigh of relief when his eyes landed on your handbag and shoes tossed to the side. You’d come home. He bounded up the stairs three at a time to come find you, but skid to a halt when he met you on the landing. You were holding a duffel bag. You’d been crying. Slowly, you placed the bag on the floor and looked up at him with a steely glare.
“Sweetheart,” Harry started toward you. “I’m so sor-“
“No!” You shouted, pushing him away from you harshly. His jaw dropped. “No, you don’t just give me a hug and apologise to me and assume everything will be okay!” Tears welled in your eyes and you wiped them away furiously. Harry was taken aback. “You can’t talk to me like that. You can’t treat me like that.” You sounded a lot more dejected now, resigned, tired. It was at this point Harry noticed the bags under your eyes. “You kept me up so late last night, and you knew I was working tonight.” He couldn’t stop the smirk creeping onto his face when he thought of what you’d been up to the night before. In a fit of pure rage, you threw the makeup bag in your hand at him. He dodged it.
“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry. It’s not funny. Carry on.”
“I just figured you needed some time away from me for a little bit. All of my stuff is here,” you explained, looking down at the bag you’d packed. “I can’t find my glasses, though, so if you see them can you-“ you were cut off by Harry snatching the bag from the floor and stalking back into his bedroom. “Harry!” You shrieked, following him. By the time you’d caught up, he had already taken out your toiletry bag and was unpacking it in the bathroom. His back was turned, but in the mirror you could see his expression. He looked angry, he looked hurt. Slowly, you came up behind him, placing a hand on his back. His fingers were trembling when he placed your toothbrush back beside his.
“Harry, talk to me,” you whispered, sensing something deeper was at play here.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, still turned away from you. “I didn’t- didn’t know what time it was. Shit’s been so bad lately. I really didn’t mean to lash out at you, darling.” You sighed. You wanted to forgive him, but he had lashed out so easily. Noticing your hesitation, he turned around to finally look at you. He looked pained. “Please don’t go,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I know I hurt you. You don’t have to forgive me, but please stay.” Honestly, you were shocked at you emotional he was. This man, this huge, tattooed, mysterious man with a gun strapped to his hip, was almost in tears over you.
“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll stay.” Harry’s shoulders relaxed at this.
“Can I touch you?” He asked quietly. You nodded, a small smile creeping onto your lips. Instantly, you were swept up in a bone-crushing hug, feeling Harry’s face buried into your neck. He inhaled deeply, sounding a little shaky. You reached up to scratch his scalp in the way he loved, and heard him mumble an “I love you.”
You froze.
So did he.
“What?” You asked. Harry pulled away to look at you, a small smile making his dimples show. “Harry, what did you just say?”
“I said “I love you”,” he replied casually, in full confidence. His arms moved to hang around your hips. You could physically feel your heart fill with joy.
“I love you too,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him. He kissed you back feverishly, passionately. This kiss held every emotion you’d both felt for the past hour, it was tender and understanding. It connected you. Without you even realising, tears had begun to spill from your eyes. Harry pulled away quickly, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs.
“What’s wrong, darling?” You sniffled deeply.
“I’m sorry I shouted at you, and pushed you, and threw my makeup bag at you,” you whimpered. Harry giggled quietly.
“I deserved it, don’t be silly. Now, I believe I owe you dinner,”
“It’s 7am,”
“I cooked you dinner, so let’s have dinner for breakfast,”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
DOES ANYONE WANT A PART 2????? WHERE HE ~really~ MAKES UP FOR IT? 😏😏😏😏😏















