CW: mentions of drinking, mentions of crimes, minor language, tiny moment of threatening violence, one small possessive moment and reader is just a little clueless.
Word Count: 5.4K
A/N: I am so excited to start this series I hope y’all enjoy the first look at these two! I’m posting this a day early because I work all day tomorrow and don’t wanna risk not being able to get it out✨
Summary: You find yourself on a penpal site and decide that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you write the inmate with pretty green eyes a letter💌
“Any fun plans for tonight?” Your ears perk up at your coworker Julia’s voice coming from behind you as you organize the gel pens next to the cash register while waiting for the last few minutes of your shift to go by. She has a hopeful look on her face and her eyes are shinning with excitement when you turn around to give her your full attention, having always found it a bit rude when people don’t bother to look at the person they’re speaking to. But sadly Julia takes your politeness as a sign that whatever you’re about to tell her is extremely juicy when in reality it’s only a slightly different version of your usual Friday evening routine.
“There’s a new documentary out about one of the Real Housewives that I’ve been dying to watch.” With each word that leaves your mouth you watch the excitement fade from Julia’s eyes but you just assume it’s because she’s not familiar with one of your favorite reality shows. “It’s about the one from Salt Lake City-I think her name is Mary? Well she’s apparently a cult leader or something.” You explain with a bubbly tone that doesn’t quite match the subject you’re speaking about but you can’t help it, you love a good documentary.
“Oh uhm that-that sounds so fun.” You smile and nod your head enthusiastically as she tries her best to seem interested, not that you mind if she’s not because you understand not everyone is into the same things as you.
That’s a big reason as to why you love working at a craft and hobby store, you get to learn all about the odd little hobbies people are into and the art projects they’re in the middle of working on. The odder the hobby or the craft the more passionate the people seem to be and you love it, nothing beats the look of excitement on their faces as they tell you all about how they ended up getting into whatever it is that brought them to your store in the first place. You get a sense of joy helping people find what they need, it could be a special type of glue that will help them fix their model train that they’ve had since they were a kid or the perfect color paint that will help them finally finish the art project they’ve been working on all year. It also doesn’t hurt that while you get to help people and try your best to make them happy you just so happen to be surrounded by fun colors of paint and funky patterned fabrics, turning your place of work into your place of happiness because honestly nothing brightens your mood like a stroll down the scrapbook aisle that’s filled with glittery paper and every kind of sticker anyone could ever need.
“Sorry I have to go see if we have anymore baby blue acrylic paint in the back-I think the shelf is empty.” She’s turning and rushing off in the direction of the stockroom before you can even tell her you restocked the paints before you went on your lunch break earlier today.
“Do you have any spray paint that’s good for outdoor furniture?” You playfully roll your eyes as you turn around to face Niall, your bestfriend and neighbor who just so happens to work at the bank across the street from your store and likes to walk you home on days like today when the two of you get off at the same time. “M’thinkin about redoing my patio chairs.” He tells you with a smile as his bright blue eyes stare into yours.
“You don’t have any chairs on your patio.” You remind him with a laugh that has him smiling as he leans against the counter your register is on. “Actually I don’t even think you have a patio?”
“Excuse me? I have about three square feet of patio space.” He argues with a huff as you start to untie your work apron from around your waist so you can hang it on the coatrack with all the others. As you do this Niall can’t help but glance down at one of the front pockets and raise a brow when he notices something new. “Did you add another flower?” He asks making a grin spread across your face as you nod your head while grabbing your purse from under the counter.
“I did! I sewed it on last night while watching Criminal Minds it was that episode about-”
“Let me guess…a serial killer?” Niall jokes as he grabs your purse from you so you can slip on your bright yellow jacket, the glare you send him has him letting out a quiet chuckle because you’re about as threatening as Frank, the stuffed polar bear you keep on your bed that’s missing an eye.
“Not all of them are about serial killers Niall but anyway-I sewed it on last night and I think I might add some roses because I have sunflowers and tulips…they are so pretty I love them but no roses oh and some daises…I have a few of those as well so I think it could use some red? What do you think?” Niall tries his best to keep up with your train of thought as he stands there and watches you wrap your baby pink scarf around your neck while rambling off your idea about adding a new flower patch to your apron.
“I uh think roses would be nice.” He answers silently hoping it’s the answer you wanted to hear because honestly he got lost the moment you mentioned the tulips but he can tell by the way your eyes seem to light up that he did good making him let out a small sigh of relief.
“Right? Roses would be so pretty.” You tell him excitedly as he hands you back your purse. “Are you really going to get chairs for your patio? If so I’d say don’t get metal they’ll get all rusted in the rain and then all gross in the summer.” Niall can’t help but let out a laugh as you give him some friendly advice about what kinda chairs he should get for a patio he can’t even fit a potted plant on.
“Thanks for the tip love-I’ll be sure to remember that.” He says with a soft smile as he moves so he can hold the door open for you after you shout to Julia that you’re leaving for the day. “Straight home or do you wanna pop into the ice cream place?” He asks as he places a hand on your lower back so he can gently move you to his left side, keeping you as far away from the busy street as possible because he knows that’s just a disaster waiting to happen due to your sometimes overactive mind keeping you from being able to focus on things around you such as curbs and oncoming traffic.
“You know I’ll never say no to ice cream.” You answer as you loop your arm through Niall’s with a smile. “Did you call Amelia back like I told you?” Niall lets out a huff as the two of you stop at a crosswalk.
“Yes but she-”
“Did she answer?”
“Yes but-”
“Oh god did she breakup with you?”
“No she-”
“Thank goodness I was about to freak out.” Niall holds back a laugh as the two of you cross the street, totally unfazed by you making it take twice as long for him to tell you a story due to your constant interrupting because he’s known you for so long he knows you sometimes get a little too excited and can’t help it. “So what did she say?”
“She agreed to see me tonight but she’s still upset with me about the whole canceling on her an hour before her company Christmas party.”
“You have to bring her some ice cream-that’ll help ease you out of the dog house.”
“M’not in the dog house…”
“She didn’t talk to you for three days and threatened to send all your stuff back in trash bags so I’m sorry to tell you this but you are very much in the dog house.”
“Okay so let’s say I am in the dog house…you really think some ice cream will help get me out of it?” You look over at him as if he just asked you the craziest question you’ve ever heard as the two of you continue to head towards the little ice cream shop just a few blocks away from the quiet street you and Niall live on.
“Niall…ice cream can fix all sorts of problems. Never underestimate the power of a sweet treat.”
The sound of your radiator hums in the background as you sit and stare at your television with wide eyes and your mouth slightly hanging open. You blink slowly as the credits start to roll across the screen signaling the end of the documentary you were so excited to watch that turned out to be more depressing than you expected making you have to pause it halfway through the first part and grab your bottle of very cheap and very sweet white wine. As you grab your remote you let out a heavy sigh, not liking all this new information you just learned about one of the Housewife franchises you enjoy watching in your spare time.
“That’s so unfortunate…I really liked her.” You mumble to yourself as you switch off the television and drop the remote onto your coffee table so you can grab your glass of wine. “She seemed so normal or…well I mean as normal as you can be on a show like that because they pick people that will be entertaining but-but this just makes me…sad.” You say with a huff as you bring your glass up to your lips so you can take a sip, the sweetness of it making it a little to easy for you to take another sip and then another until suddenly you’re looking down at your hand with a frown when you’re met with an empty glass.
“That-when did this happen?” You ask yourself when you look over and notice the bottle that you swore was more than halfway full just ten minutes ago is now empty, your eyes scan the kangaroo on the label that seems to be staring back at you with almost a judgmental glare in its eyes that makes the frown on your face deepen as you place your empty glass down.
You’ve never been one to handle not having something to do so using the part of your brain that hasn’t quite been engulfed in a wine induced fuzziness you grab your laptop and decide maybe some retail therapy is in order because you often times end up spending hours on a website and not even purchasing anything so it’s not that big of a threat to your bank account. You plop down onto the floor and place your laptop on your coffee table after turning it on, your fingers hover over the keys as you stretch your legs out and try to think of something you need. As you glance around your living room your eyes land on the notebook you have on the side table next to your love seat and it’s as if a lightbulb goes off and a bell starts ringing in your mind because your fingers start typing into the search bar for an item you always need more of.
Pens.
“Pen-” you let out a puff of air as you accidentally hit the enter key making a giant list of sites that offer pens appear on your screen. “Let’s narrow it down a bit…let’s try pen-does that say penpals?” You squint your eyes as you read the description for the link at the top of the page. “Penpals in your area…inmates-like inmates in jails? You…you can just write to someone in jail? How interesting.” With no one there to tell you it might be a bad idea to click on a link that takes you to a penpal website for inmates you end up doing just that, you click the link and a grin spreads across your face when the home page of a legit enough looking website takes over your screen.
You lean in closer to the screen so you can read more about the process of becoming an inmate’s penpal because while you’ve had a penpal before in middle school but she lived in Australia and it was for a class project to learn about how to properly write a letter and how the mail system worked, so you have no clue how writing to someone in prison works. As you’re reading the details you find out this is a very legitimate program that offers inmates that are doing serious time behind bars in a jail that’s to your surprise only an hour away a chance to make new friends and have a connection to the outside world. You find out that the program is primarily for inmates who don’t have a lot of visitors and don’t have any violent crimes on their rap sheet and those bits of information have you contemplating on taking a deeper look.
You chew on your bottom lip as you click the “become a penpal now” link at the bottom of the frequently asked questions page of the website deciding that the least you can do is take a look and see if anyone strikes you as being in desperate need of a friend. After filling out your information you’re taken to a page that has nothing but rows of mugshots that list the inmates crimes underneath them as well as their name and date of birth and in a tiny red font reads the amount of time they’re doing but you ignore that because you had read earlier that everyone on the list is doing more than five years so you find it pointless to even look. By the time you get to the bottom of the third page you feel like maybe this was a waste of an hour of your life, not that you were in the middle of doing anything important but still it starts to make you a little sad looking at the photos off all the people knowing they don’t get a lot of people coming to see them. But just as you’re about to click out of the website and restart your search for actual pens you see something or more so someone that catches your attention.
“Harry…that’s a nice name.” You mumble to yourself as you scroll down so you can click on his photo to make it larger. “Oh….look at those eyes and that smile…why is he smiling? He must know the photographer-oh that’s silly he’s just smiling because…because he knows it’s easier to make a smile than it is to make a frown-uses less muscles.” You nod to yourself as you talk through your thought process on why the very handsome man in the photo on your screen with emerald green eyes has a playful grin on his face while all the other mugshots you’ve seen have been nothing but scowls.
“Let’s see what are you in for….oh extortion-I know that word it means….something with money…oh and for money laundering-that’s not good Harry you shouldn’t be doing things like that.” You say with a disapproving tsk as you scroll down and hover your mouse over the button that will give you instructions on how to go about sending him a letter. “Oh what the hell he seems harmless.” With that you click the button and a small smile forms on your face when you’re given all the dos and don’ts of writing your penpal a letter.
Two hours later you’re siting in front of your coffee table with a two page handwritten letter staring at you that you wrote in your very best pink gel pen that you picked because not only does it write smoothly it also is such a fun color you hope it’ll brighten Harry’s mood while he reads it. As you look away from the letter and back over to your laptop with Harry’s information, not bothering to read all the bits in red because you just assume it’s more details about his crimes and the wine has officially covered your mind in a warm fuzzy blanket not really allowing you to focus on the small print. You scroll down to see if anywhere it mentions if you’re able to send things in your letters because you feel a little odd that you know what he looks like but he won’t have a single clue what you look like.
After searching for a solid five minutes and coming up empty handed you decide that you might as well just slip a photo of yourself inside the letter since his mail will be getting searched and opened prior to him receiving it anyway so if he’s not allowed to have a picture of you they’ll just toss it in the trash and it’ll be fine. Without much thought you get up and rush to your bedroom to grab your Polaroid camera that you use for scrapbooking and hold it out in front of yourself and with a big smile on your face you hit the button making a flash go off followed by the sound of the photo being printed, after placing the camera back down on your desk you head off back to the living room.
“Well Harry…I really hope you aren’t a weirdo.” You whisper to yourself as you look down at the half way developed photo, you smile as you slip it into the envelope before reaching down and carefully folding his letter in half and sliding it into the envelope that’s already addressed properly and has a cute little flower stamp in the corner, the only thing left for you to do is drop it off in your mailbox tomorrow morning on your way to work.
“Styles!” Harry doesn’t bother moving from his spot on his bed as a guard shouts his name. One would think by the looks of him, how he has his arms crossed under his head and his eyes closed with a sense of calmness that seems to be oozing out of him that he was off relaxing on a beach somewhere instead of being sprawled out on a paper thin mattress that has a spring poking him in the middle of his back, tucked away in cell that’s located in a rather remote corner of the county jail.
“Styles! Mail!” This has Harry’s eyes opening up and his brows furrowing because he doesn’t get mail, not here at least. It’s not because he doesn’t have anyone that would want to send him letters or cards it’s because Harry prefers getting all his information about what’s going on outside the sad little cement blocks that make up his current residence by phone or by the two people he has on his visitors list that come to see him once a week.
Harry reluctantly sits up and swings his legs over the side of his bed before standing up, he takes his time stretching his arms over his head to get the creaks out of his joints from laying in the same position for too long. When he turns his head he sees his least favorite guard Lenny standing directly outside his cell with a pink envelope in his hand and a smirk on his face. As Harry walks the four steps it takes to get from his bed to the front of his cell he glances down at the envelope in Lenny’s hand and rolls his eyes when he sees it’s been cut open at the top.
“It’s a federal offense to open someone’s mail.” He states as he leans his shoulder against the cold metal bars that separate him from the annoyingly smug looking guard.
“While you’re in here your mail is my mail so get used to it.” Lenny says as he slides the envelope through one of the openings, Harry narrows his eyes at the suspicious looking piece of mail making Lenny roll his eyes as he gives it a shake. “Just take the damn letter Styles it’s not gonna kill you.” With that Harry reaches out and grabs the envelope so he can read the name on the front, not fully believing that the bright pink envelope could be for him.
Harry quirks a brow when he sees his own name written in swirly letters on the front and a return address he’s never heard of before in the corner. He turns the already opened envelope upside down and before he can catch it something falls out and lands on the floor near his feet while two sheets of paper slide out and into his hand. He slips the paper back into the envelope so he can bend down and grab what appears to be a Polaroid of some sort off the floor, but before his hand can grab it he sees the black tip of Lenny’s baton that he usually has secured on his belt lands on it and in one quick motion the photo is sliding out under the bars of Harry’s cell.
“Oh wow went and got yourself a girl I see.” Harry feels his usual calm and relaxed demeanor start slipping away as he turns and sees Lenny staring at the photograph with a look on his face that for some odd reason makes Harry who is usually not very violent, because he has people who do that sort of thing for him want to defend the girl in the photo that he doesn’t even know and punch the annoying guard right in the throat.
Harry feels his hand clench into a fist at his side at the fact someone else’s eyes are staring at a photo that was sent to him and him alone. Now normally Harry isn’t one to be so protective and borderline possessive over someone he doesn’t know or seen for that matter but he figures that whoever went out of their way to send him this letter deserves a level of respect that includes keeping their picture private and not in the grubby hands of a prison guard. It doesn’t help that he watches Lenny lick his lips as he continues to stare at the photograph, a low whistle slipping past them as he finally looks away and over at Harry who is now doing everything in his power not to overreact.
“She’s a babe.” He states casually as he holds the photo out for Harry to grab, making one key mistake in the process and getting a little too close to the inmate who has officially reached his breaking point with the smug guard standing in front of him.
“Look at her again and I’ll be mailing your wife your eyeballs in a brown paper sack.” The words come out so smoothly it’s a little unnerving as Harry grabs Lenny’s wrist with his free hand and pulls it through the same opening he used in the bars to give Harry his letter making the guard’s face get forcibly pressed up against the rough metal. “Don’t forget I know where you live and I’d hate for sweet Tammy to come home to such a gruesome package waiting for her on that tacky fucking welcome mat you have that’s covered in dog paws.” He reminds him quietly so only Lenny can hear, Harry doesn’t wait for a response before he’s snatching the photo out of his hands and shoving him away from his cell. “Get the fuck out of my sight.”
Harry turns around so his back is facing the bars and he feels his mouth twitch upward as the sound of feet rushing down the corridor bounce off the walls of his cell. He walks over to his sad excuse for a bed and sits on the edge of it before finally turning the photograph over letting him see who it is that sent him the letter in a bright pink envelope. The woman in the photo isn’t exactly what Harry was expecting when he turned the Polaroid over, not that he’s really sure what he was expecting but a woman with a big grin on her face and her hair in a messy bun with what looks to be a tye dye shirt on while standing in what Harry can only assume is her bedroom based on the blurry view of some curtains and a pillow in the background surely wasn’t it.
The smile on the girl’s face is one that can’t be faked, she’s practically beaming with happiness as she stares into the camera and it has Harry curious as to when and why this photo was taken because something in the back of his mind is itching to know what got her to smile like that because he thinks he sort of likes it. With the photo in one hand he reaches over with his other and grabs the pieces of paper out of the envelope and when he sees the beginnings of the letter he can’t help but let out a chuckle because naturally the girl in the photo is the exact type of person to write a letter to an inmate in pink ink with dainty little doodles all over the margins. Harry moves so his back is up against the wall, trying to get as comfortable as he can before he starts reading the letter, never letting go of the photo in the process.
As Harry finishes reading the letter he finds himself smiling at how utterly clueless this girl seems to be about anything jail related but that’s something he doesn’t mind, he sort of likes knowing she probably hasn’t ever had a run in with the police and he has to admit he is very entertained with how odd she is. Part of him even feels a bit proud of her for not revealing her real name because like she mentioned it’s not safe to just give random inmates you find on a website your actual name, it makes him wonder if that’s something he’ll be able to earn eventually but that’s only if he decides to write back.
He looks away from the swirly handwriting and over to the photo still in his hand, it’s remarkable how much the girl in the picture perfectly matches the words written on the paper, the smile and colorful shirt go hand in hand with the pink ink and random facts he now knows about her. His mind starts coming up with questions as to how he even ended up on a website for inmates seeking penpals and what all it said about him but he just pushes them to the side as he stares down at the photo .
“Nice to meet you Goldie.” He mumbles to himself with a smile as he reaches over and slips the photo under his pillow so no one else can get even the smallest of glimpses at it while walking by. He moves so he’s laying down on his back with an arm tucked under his head, he chews on his bottom lip as his eyes scan over the last paragraph one more time.
“Hobbytown…interesting.”
“You want me to do what?” Harry rolls his eyes as he leans against the wall the line of phones are on, he’s loosely holding onto the reciever while his bestfriend and business associate Zayn on the other end of the call tries to fully understand what his boss just asked him to do. “You want me to go to a…art store and see about some chick who-”
“Watch the tone.” Harry snaps making his friend pause on the other side of the phone. “Don’t be an asshole-just go see if she really works there or not because I got a letter and I need to know if it’s legit or not.”
“A letter? She sent you a letter? How’d she know where to send it or that you were even in the clink?”
“Never mind all that just go do what I asked-before you come see me.”
“Before? H that’s in two days I have a shit ton of other…things I gotta do.”
“Well consider this priority number one.” Harry’s tone tells Zayn this conversation is done, it’s the one that holds a certain edge to it that leaves no wiggle room for negotiations because what Harry says goes and that’s that.
“Okay I’ll go tomorrow but who exactly am I looking for?”
“She goes by Goldie and likes the color pink.”
“And does this Goldie know who you are? Like…really know who you are?” Harry lets out a sigh and runs his free hand through his hair as he looks over at the guard that’s watching him to make sure he doesn’t do anything unruly while out of his cell.
“No. She thinks my crimes are just money related because all she saw was what I got booked for.” Zayn can’t help but laugh making Harry’s jaw tick because for some unknown reason hearing Zayn snicker at some information that has to do with the girl who’s photo has been tucked under his pillow for the last two days makes a weird sort of anger start to bubble up in his chest. “The fuck are you laughing at you prick?” Zayn instantly goes quiet and Harry can hear him clear his throat before he speaks again.
“Sorry I just-so she doesn’t know who you are but she wrote you a letter?”
“What is this twenty one questions? Just go do what I asked and I’ll see you Tuesday.” With that Harry hangs up the phone and signals the guard he’s done with the phones for the day. “Fuckin asshole.” He mumbles as he glares at the telephone before being escorted back to his cell. He goes and sits on the edge of his bed for a moment before he finds himself reaching over and grabbing the letter that he practically has memorized due to how many times he’s read it. His eyes instantly find the paragraph that interests him the most, a chuckle slips past his lips as he reads the line that he finds shows the personality of the girl who wrote it more than any other part of the letter.
summary: fall 1925. a journalist looking for a story, a jazz musician dancing with the devil. [au]
cw: smut18+ - oral fem!receiving, alcohol usage, drugs, fem!reader, depiction of gangs, lower case in case u hate me for it, unedited.
word count: approx 16.7k
| debated posting for a while idk. can u tell i have a thing for historical au’s yet
not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.
masterlist
october 16th, 1925 | chicago
a brick building sat tucked into a narrow side street, a sweet irony. it was flanked by tall, worn structures that once boomed with business but now seemed abandoned - their faded signage barely legible in the dingy light of street lamps. there was a reminiscence that lingered, the apollo club once tucked into bed and remained asleep as the city began to expand. there’s no longer a sign that introduces apollo to the public, having been removed a few years ago as the prohibition bared its ugly teeth.
the marquee sign held a dim, white glow with no words placed into it. however, on top of the sign sat a faded golden lyre, subtly marking the place for those who knew. the large entrance door had the chipped markings of the sacred name from a previous white paint, but since has been worn due to time. it’s the kind of door you’d pass by without a glance, unless you knew to look for it.
the club entrance is set into a recessed alcove, shadowed by the overhang of a rusted fire escape. the door itself is heavy and wooden, painted black, with the sheen of wear from countless hands that have brushed against it. it's always slightly ajar, as if welcoming those with enough curiosity to push through, yet closed enough to keep out prying eyes. graffiti lines the walls of the alley, the scrawl of the city's underbelly just a little louder here, a hint that apollo is more than just a music venue - it's a haven for those who dwell in the shadows of society.
a faint, pulsating glow of golden light leaks from beneath the door, casting long shadows onto the rain-slicked pavement. on humid summer nights, you'd hear the low, vibrating hum of jazz slipping out through the cracks - just enough to make a passersby wonder. there's an old iron gate, usually half open, that leads into the alley, lined with crumbling brickwork, creating the feeling of stepping into another world once you've crossed it.
the baseline thrummed through the floorboards, a low, sultry hum that vibrated in the soles of Y/N’s shoes as she stepped into the speakeasy. smoked curled lazily in the air, hanging like the lingering whispers in the dimly lit room. glasses clinked somewhere in the haze, the murmur of voices a soft undercurrent beneath the rich, haunting notes of a piano.
apollo was hidden away in the outskirts of the city, masked - a sanctuary for the lost and reckless. she had heard about this place, about the intoxicating music and the enigmatic man who commanded the small stage. but no story or rumor could have prepared her for the reality.
he was there, center stage, his figure bathed in the golden glow of a single spotlight. harry styles. the name had followed Y/N for weeks, woven into the fabric of the underground world she’d been chasing. no one knew much about him, but everyone had a theory. some said he was a runaway aristocrat, others swore he was tangled up with the mob. all anyone could agree on was that harry's voice could pull the soul right out of your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.
and now, watching him under the light, she understood why.
he wore a suit that was all sharp lines and expensive fabric, his hair curling softly against the collar of his white shirt, the top button undone in a casual defiance of formality. a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the smoke twisting like a lazy snake around his face. his eyes, half-lidded and distant, caught the light just enough to gleam as his fingers skimmed across the keys of the piano, a melody drifting from the instrument like a dream. the room fell silent around him, every eye drawn to the man who made the world seem to slow with every note he played.
Y/N stood in the shadows by the bar, watching. observing. this was why you were here. not just for the story, but for him.
as harry's song came to an end, a slow, mingling silence settled over the room. he stood from the piano, and for a brief moment, his eyes swept the crowd - dark, heavylidded, and sharp. when his gaze landed on her, it felt like a secret had passed between the two, unspoken yet undeniable. a slow smile curled at the corner of his lips, like he knew she’s been watching. like he had expected her all along.
Y/N’s breath caught.
this wasn't just any speakeasy, and harry styles wasn't just any jazz musician.
the crowd erupted in applause, but Y/N barely heard it, her pulse loud in her ears as harry disappeared from the stage, swallowed by the dim lights and thick curtains that parted briefly before closing behind him.
she inhaled sharply, forcing refocus. she was here on business, not to get swept up in the glamour. with a quick glance around, she pushed through the crowd, dodging clusters of people who were already sinking into the fog of jazz and alcohol. the bartender caught her eye as she neared the back hallway, a raised eyebrow hinting that he knew she didn't belong.
"can i help you, miss?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind. he didn't look like the type to throw you out without hearing your reason for being there. his eyes were a soft blue, almost doe-like.
Y/N runs her fingers through her hair, shifting in her stance. "'i’m supposed to speak with mr. styles." she said, confidence threaded into her tone. it wasn't a lie - she had been assigned to investigate, after all - but she hadn't exactly scheduled an interview. the bartender sized her up, his eyes narrowing in slight suspicion, but before he could reply, a deep voice drifted from behind him.
“no need, lou. i’ve got it.”
harry appeared as if he'd materialized from the shadows themselves, his presence as sharp and magnetic as it had been on stage. he was close now, the soft glow of the bar's dim lights illuminating the fine details of his face - the dark stubble tracing his jaw, the faint crease near his brow that suggested weariness beneath the allure. but his eyes, those piercing eyes, were locked on Y/N with a curiosity that sent a shiver down her spine.
"follow me." he mumbles, tipping his head toward the back. his voice was smooth, the words wrapped in an accent that didn't quite belong in this part of the city. she hesitated for only a second, feeling the weight of the moment settle. this was what she had come for.
Y/N stepped past the bartender and followed harry down a narrow corridor. the hum of the lounge faded as she moved deeper into the club, the walls closing in, and the only sound left was the echo of their footsteps and the soft click of harry's polished shoes against the floor. he led her into a small, private room at the end of the hall. it wasn't what she had expected for a locally popular musician, no. there were no plush velvet couches, no haze of cigarette smoke. instead, the room was plain, almost bare with a simple desk, a chair, and a window that overlooked the city streets. the chair looked a bit comfortable, at least - the light floral pattern matching its time.
harry leans against the faded oak desk, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded her with a faint smile. “you’ve been watching me all evening.” it wasn’t a question, just a quiet statement of truth.
Y/N swallowed, fighting to keep her composure. “i’m Y/N, a journalist.” she pauses, reaching into her bag and pulling out a dainty notebook. “m’here to write a piece on nightlife, the underground scene. apollo has a reputation.”
harry’s smile widened at her words, though his eyes darkened a bit, shadows playing in their depth. “and here i thought you were just another fan.” he pushed himself from the desk and takes a slow step towards the journalist, his gaze flickering between the notebook and her pretty face, studying every nuance like he was cataloging it for later. “but i’m guessing you’re not here to talk about the music, hm?”
she opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. it was like he was pulling her into his orbit with nothing more than a look. after a beat of prolonged staring, she found her voice. “no.” she shakes her head, trying to choose her words carefully. “there are rumors about you, mr. styles - about your connections, like the bootleggers that keep this city running after dark.”
harry's eyes gleamed, and he tilted his head, lips curving into a smirk and that hid something more. “rumors," he repeated, his voice soft and amused. he was closer now, just a few feet away, and the air between them felt thick. "rumors can be deadly in this city, darlin’. you should be careful who you listen to."
"i'm not afraid of rumors," she quips, forcing her chin up in defiance. "but i am interested in the truth. if you're involved in something bigger, people wanna know. your name became a gallery seemingly overnight.”
for a brief moment, the playful edge in harry’s expression faded, replaced by something harrowing - something that made Y/N’s heart race in both fear and fascination. "the truth," he echoed, his voice dropping to a low murmur. he leaned closer, his face inches from hers now, the scent of tobacco and something sweet dancing in the air between them. "the truth is, sweetheart, maybe i just sold my soul to the devil." his eyes burrow into hers, as if he’s trying to search within her. “people who come knockin’ for answers usually end up regretting it.”
his words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding, but she didn't back down. if anything, his warning only ignited her determination. Y/N had spent too long fighting to be taken seriously as a journalist, too long navigating a world where men thought they could intimidate or charm you into submission. she shakes her head, holding his gaze. “i don’t scare easily.”
harry stares down at her for a long moment, unwavering; like he was trying to figure out what exactly to do with the woman that stood before him. then, without warning, he let out a soft, breathy laugh while he shakes his head. “y’got guts, i’ll give you that.” he straightened up, breaking the tension between them, although the smirk still lingered on his lips. “alright, i’ll tell you what. wanna talk? come back tomorrow night and we can talk.”
with that, harry turned away, leaving Y/N standing in the dim room, heart pounding as the door clicked shut behind him. she stood there for a moment longer, her mind racing. she had come looking for answers, grazing her finger along his words like a page in a book, only receiving a paper cut in return. she found something dangerous, intoxicating, and impossible to ignore.
*
the next day arrived with an unseasonal chill in the air. Y/N stood at the street corner, breath visible in the low glimmer of a streetlight, clutching the strap of her bag a little tighter than usual. the thought of returning weighed on her mind. everything about last night - harry’s intense gaze, the invitation, the strange undercurrent of danger - lingered like a ghost in the back of her mind, pulling her in even as logic said to be careful.
she wasn’t new to risky assignments, but something about apollo felt different, like stepping into a dream where the rules of reality didn’t apply. there was an edge to the club that unsettled her, but it was also what made it difficult to resist.
she pulled her coat tighter around her frame as she made her way back toward the club’s narrow alley. the day had passed in a blur of half-hearted distractions, mind constantly drifting back to the meeting with harry. she had went to work as usual, exchanging small details of her story with her boss that doubted she could produce something of this measure. after all, she was just a woman. the city’s usual bustle had faded into a muted hum, and now, as she approached the speakeasy, it felt like she was walking into the mouth of something unknown.
the alley was darker tonight. the same graffiti-covered brick walls loomed on either side, but the faint pulse of golden light beneath the door felt almost menacing now. the faint, muffled sound of music drifted through the walls - a melancholy trumpet, shrill and poignant.
for a moment, she hesitated. was this really a good idea? she could walk away now, no questions asked, and pretend that harry styles and his world of secrets weren’t as intriguing as they appeared. but something inside Y/N knew she couldn’t. no, not after the things his smile hid, not after the way he had looked at her.
she stepped closer, hand hovering over the door handle. she bites her lip, pushing it open and then waltzing into the club like she belonged. the same smoky haze filled the room, but tonight, the air felt heavier, as if the very walls were holding their breath. warm lights twinkled in the lounge, two men standing upon the stage and playing their instruments with ease. it made her heart heavy, a sad language transcribed into feelings. it was wordless, but the tune held more than a jumble of letters could. some of the folks who sat in the booths actually listened, while others drank and talked amongst themselves.
Y/N scans the room, noticing harry near the bar. his outfit was a bit lackluster in comparison to yesterday, but he still looked dazzling. his posture seemed tense, gazing around the club as if he was in search of something - or someone. when he spots Y/N, a flicker of recognition crossed his features, but it didn’t come with the same easy smile. he offered a curt nod, gesturing her to follow him into a dimly lit area of the lounge.
and so she did, her bottom lip falling between the nervous grip of her teeth. the leather booth was tucked away in a back corner behind the bar, the faint light flickering overhead and casting long shadows over harry’s face. he slid into the booth first, leaning back with the same nonchalant grace as she had seen the night before. Y/N hesitated momentarily before sitting across from him, her bag resting beside her, ready to take notes when appropriate - but this felt less like an interview and moreso stepping upon a trapdoor. still, she tried to remain confident. harry’s eyes never left her, but there was a tension in his posture now, something taut and coiled just beneath his surface. he tapped his fingers heavily against the table, expression unreadable. “so, you came back.” he mutters, his voice a low rumble that made her stomach flip. “guess that means you’re serious.”
she knits her brows together, trying to maintain a collected composure by sitting back in her seat. “why wouldn’t i be?” she quips, her voice steady despite the anxiety that bubbled in her chest. she felt so close to him, feeling the weight of his presence - the same magnetism that could have everyone in the room gravitating toward him.
his lip twitched, almost like he was fighting back a grin, but his eyes remained cloudy and guarded. “y’persistent, little dove.” he paused, running his hands through his curls as his gaze flickers toward her hand reaching into her small bag. “but persistence can be- what’re y’doing?”
her eyes narrowed, turning her head to look at the suddenly more tense (if possible) man across from her. “i- i was gonna take notes.”
his features hardened, shaking his head and she immediately pulled her empty hand out from her bag. “y’trying to make things obvious? you’re already comin’ in here dressed like the press.” he grumbles, leaning slightly over the table between them. he turned his head away, jaw tightening, staring at some distant point in the smoky haze in the lounge.
she waited, her heart hammering in her chest as she nodded. the tension between them palpable yet unspoken. she wondered if there was a reason at all for this, if she would get any sort of answers or if he was just wasting her time.
after silence fell between them, his fingers stilled on the table. when he finally glanced over at her again, something had shifted in his expression. there was a flutter of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded, but it was fleeting. “i’ll give you a crumb.” he sighed, studying her face. “but it won’t be the whole story, not yet.”
she nodded slowly, like if her movements threatened to be too quick and cast a breeze, he’d blow away. like a dandelion to make a wish upon.
“there’s things about this city that the public won’t see.” he began, voice low and steady. “like the people who run it. the alcohol, drugs, power, it’s connected.” he paused, his adam’s apple bobbing against his collar. “bigger than just one man. i don’t pull the strings, m’just a puppet.”
her pulse quickened as she nodded along, trying her best to remember each key detail so she could write it down in her apartment later. “if this is so risky..” she paused, her throat dry and voice shaky. “why tell me?”
for the first time, harry felt the words get caught in his throat. why. his throat could be slit in the back alley tomorrow morning, or his fingers hammered against a table for even looking as if he was running his mouth. his eyes averted to the table, but when he looked up again, the mask was back in place, his expression reserved and hardened. “i’ve been where you are.” harry murmurs. “lookin’ for answers. thinking i could handle whatever. but i was wrong. this world will take everything from you if y’let it.”
her heart ached at the hint of pain in his voice, but before she could respond, harry leaned back in his seat. the moment of vulnerability gone as quick as it appeared. “s’all i’ll give you for tonight.” he said, voice firm. “if you want more you’ll have to earn it.”
she opened her mouth to protest, but harry stood up swiftly, eyes softening momentarily as he looked down at her. “m’on next.” he says gently, nodding his head toward the stage. “feel free to listen, otherwise, get home safe.” he dismisses, turning away and disappearing within a dark hallway.
Y/N frowned as harry vanished before her, slouching in her seat. she replayed his words over and over, studying them so she could write them down as effortlessly as she could later. she debated asking for a drink, but decided it against it as there was some clattering and adjusting on the stage. she had to crane her neck to steal a glance, but after a beat, harry appeared. the same soft spotlight shone on him, and she swore he looked like painting of the fallen angel brought to life. his eyes were narrowed and glossed over, the golden gleam of light paining him a rose gold. he held a heavier looking guitar in hand, and he started to strum after a momentary pause. his voice was low and raspy, and she could’ve sworn she floated toward the center of the lounge to watch instead of walking. his face held every bit of emotion the song could emit. it was almost refreshing to Y/N to see him this way, instead of the feigned apathy that befell him almost constantly.
the melodies he played revealed how shattered he was, it was apparent. he resembled a tragic painting from years into the past she would study in the history classes from adolescence. harry, himself, was poetry. an art. Y/N felt her chest grow heavy, knowing that she was sucked so far into the enigma on stage that she couldn’t fall away from this if she tried.
*
Y/N tossed and turned that night. the rain pitter-pattering on her thin windows as she curled into her desk, writing down whatever she could in her notes. every scribble in the margins were a question mark, riddles with no answer. she had even put on her favorite nightgown, silk and blushed pink. the color of harry’s lips, perhaps a shade lighter.
the next day dawned gray and overcast, the chill from the night before lingering like a hangover. Y/N eventually awoke in her small apartment, the events of the previous night playing on repeat in her mind. harry’s cryptic words, and the way he had performed on stage haunted her like the fading notes of his song. she sat at her rounded kitchen table that stood by a window, puddles rippling with each sprinkle of rain and the usual bustle of pedestrians moving about. the cup of tea before her steamed her face, and she basked in it. the warmth was comforting, having not changed out of her night attire and she hasn’t dared to try to warm the apartment just yet. coal was too expensive, and she could tough it out in heavy layers for just a bit longer.
her editor had phoned earlier, asking if there were any updates. but she dodged it completely, citing vague leads she still had to chase down. in truth, she wasn’t quite sure what she had. a story? not yet. a lazy article in the morning paper? maybe. she felt like she had an omen more than a paper worthy of breaking news. perhaps, she thought, she should take it as a sign and work down at the pier as a fortune teller. maybe even ask her boss for her own segment in the paper as a prophet. she tried not to grin pathetically at her inner turmoil.
before heading back to apollo in the evening, something that had become her routine - she took a second to think about what she should wear. harry mentioned in passing last night that it was already too obvious to take notes, especially since she dressed like the press anyway.
her lips pursed as she feathered her fingers over the clothes in her wardrobe. she wasn’t as cool as she’d like to be, didn’t have much that would fit into the speakeasy scene. she definitely didn’t own any flapper dresses or laces, but she did have a glittery black dress that reached her knees and frayed at the end. it was her late best friend’s, something she kept for sentiment and didn’t expect to ever wear. she clipped her hair up behind her, deciding against overdoing it in jewelry and only pulling on a dainty silver necklace that has been passed down through the women in her family. the mirror was a bit worn, but she smiled at her reflection, it looked like another version of her. her makeup was almost bare, her features dreamy. she had made note to wear one of her longer coats, mostly because of the weather, but also because she wouldn’t have felt safe bouncing around the city in her current dress.
she made her usual way back to apollo, the chill in the air almost as sharp as the sound of her kitten heels hitting the pavement. the occasional car rolled past, headlights cutting through the gathering gloom - it was only a thursday night after all. she was greeted by familiar warm lights of the club shimmering from underneath the door. she patted herself down anxiously, taking a deep breath and relaxing her features. she pushed the door open, the crowd larger than it previously was last night. the door scooted to a close behind her, and she unbuttoned her coat as she waltzed further in. there must’ve been a deal on drinks due to how much busier the bar was. louis had shot her a gentle glance, and she returned it with a small smile.
Y/N knew harry was on stage by the sound of his voice. it was piano again tonight, and the lyrics were bare - relying more on the notes of the piano to speak for him. her eyes twinkled at the sight of him. he’d worn all black tonight, and it made his green irises more vibrant. she was transfixed. Y/N doubted the idea that everyone was born with a set purpose, but it was undeniable how harry’s purpose was music. her mind wandered to the possibility of him even being the embodiment of apollo himself.
the journalist didn’t know where he was in his set, so she turned on her heel to the dispersing bar crowd. louis nodded a greeting toward her while another man beside him, one she hadn’t recognized, poured drinks for the few that were waiting. “hey.” she smiles, shrugging her coat off and setting it neatly in her lap as she sat on stool. “busy tonight.”
he only nodded again, his thin lips tugging into a smirk as he wiped down a glass with a clean, white rag. “thursday’s usually bring more of ‘em in.” he shrugged. “dunno why.”
she nodded, watching the brunette maneuver around the glasses. she didn’t realize until now that he also had an accent that sounded far away, since she was always usually focused on harry. Y/N bit the inner corner of her lip, nodding along absentmindedly to whatever he said until he ducked down a bit to meet her level, waving his hand slightly with a smile. “y’hear me?”
her cheeks flushed a bit, sheepishly shaking her head. “no.” she laughed, “sorry, what?”
he placed the glass in front of her, turning away momentarily before he poured her an amber colored liquor. the tips of his index and middle finger gently pushed the glass toward her before he stepped away to put the bottle back.
she stared at the glass like it would jump out at her. it was illegal to drink like this, prohibition and all. not to mention, her career would whither away if her boss caught wind of her getting into trouble with alcohol she wasn’t supposed to have. “it won’t bite.” lou chuckled, standing in front of her again, ripping her away from her own thoughts. “might taste like it though.”
she smiles with him, the tip of her finger running along the rim as she stares at her waning reflection in the alcohol. “bit nervous.” she admits quietly.
he scoffs, humor evident in his tone, however. “ ‘cause of the bloody prohibition?” he asks, causing her to look up. “don’t worry ‘bout it, we won’t be troubled here.”
she shook her head to his words, knowing that he meant the cops wouldn’t dare to stop by here unannounced. it felt self explanatory, gathering it from harry’s mumbles and such. the interconnections that ran through here were a dime a dozen - it’s easy to assume law enforcement could have their hands dirty as well. and so Y/N inhaled, giving louis an amused expression as she downed the alcohol she now recognized as whiskey. her eyebrows furrow from the taste, lips pursed as she slid the glass back over to him. “thank you.”
harry’s melody began to lighten, hinting that he was most likely almost finished. that was confirmed when he stood from the piano, pressed his lips in a flat smile toward the crowd, and disappeared behind the curtain without so much as a glance in the bars direction. she heard the heavy glass push toward her again, eyes falling on the doe eyed boy who gave her another drink. “he’s n’ a mood, you’ll need it.”
with that, she warily gulped it down, muttering another soft thank you as she picked up her folded coat and crossed over to the familiar path she once took the first night - his office. her steps started to slow as she walked further into the hallway, noticing his door slightly ajar. her pulse quickened, unsure of the personality she would encounter in a moment - she supposed the alcohol would help. thanks louis. steeling herself, she knocked lightly, then pushed it open.
there he sat, behind the same oak desk, but his easy charm wasn’t there. not visible to her at least. his face was shadowed, the small lamp casting sharp lines on his features. he could be cut and molded from marble. his sleeves were rolled up, revealing tattooed forearms. his fingers tapped restlessly against a half emptied glass. he looked up when she entered, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. “you came back.”
Y/N lightly closed the door behind her, hanging her coat on an abandoned rack beside her. she ambled toward the seat across from him, his eyes taking over her figure. his glance held something new, something she hadn’t seen from him before and she tried to stifle how her cheeks threatened to heat from it. she sat down, crossing her legs. “you told me to.”
he hums, eyes finally settling on her face as he shifts in his chair. “y’look different.” he mutters, swirling the remaining liquid in his drink. the ice clinked softly, a sharp contrast to the tension that seemed to always exist between them. “y’blend in. beautifully, too.”
she was unable to hide her blush now, the heat betraying her. it was obvious he noticed it as well, his lips threatening a smile. “thank you.” she says softly, “didn’t bring my notes either.”
he chuckled, taking his last sip. “good girl.” he grins, setting the glass down and falling into his seat more. he stretched out his legs, folding his arms over his chest - his gaze unwavering. “it’s a machine.” he starts, jutting his chin out toward her as an indication she should listen. “profit on the alcohol and drugs, or help smuggle it, get something in return.” he shrugs, swallowing dryly. “quid pro quo.”
she nods, placing both her hands upon the table as she fidgets with the tips of her fingers. if she’s doing something simultaneously, it’ll help her remember for later.
he clears his throat, sitting up only slightly. “cops get a cut for letting it slip under their nose. gang makes money either way, they run it.” his tone was matter-of-fact, like it was how to word went ‘round. and she guesses, in a sense, it was.
“what did you get?” she quizzes, without even thinking. it felt too personal of a question, and she wanted to clasp her hands over her mouth for asking so abruptly. but she remained still, biting her lip. she could blame her bluntness on the alcohol if needed.
he looks at her through his eye lashes, smiling gently - like he didn’t allow himself to fully. “my name.” he pauses, sitting up completely and bouncing his knee in a rhythm. “didn’t have anything before i started helpin’ out. immigrated to america on a whim, nothin to my name.” he chuckled, though it sounded sad. “met them, and suddenly i had an apartment and instruments and an audience.” he enthused, shaking his head to himself with the same gentle smile. “s’what i came here for. the music.”
she had stopped fidgeting moments ago, too enamored by his words. the more that fell from his lips, the more hopelessly intrigued she felt. he was a story she couldn’t stop flipping the pages to, his roots in a reality she was unaware of.
his expression shifted, an indifference settling upon him. “but the debt is infinite.” he says lowly, locking eyes with her. “done is done, in is in.”
Y/N’s lips parted, her face falling. a glimmer settled in her eye, searching harry’s face. she wondered briefly if he was only a figment of reality, perhaps a warning. “sold your soul to the devil.” she echoed his previous words, and she tried to ignore the shiver that wanted to run down her spine.
his lips finally curled into a full smile, nodding. “exactly, sweetheart.”
silence sat between them once again. there was a weight upon her shoulders, yet she felt almost weightless from the whiskey coursing through her veins. she hadn’t drank in a while, and due to her belly being empty, she felt its effects more quickly than usual. she remained still however, not wanting her head to spin off her shoulders. “tell me what i can do.”
harry almost snorted a laugh, but the sincerity dancing upon her features made him decide against it. his chest almost felt warm at her empathy. he shook his head, smiling. “there’s nothing you can do.” he pauses, “they’re smart, no mistakes. no loose ends.” he figuratively wraps something around his neck, holding his fist above his head. “only loose end they have is a noose.”
her breath hitched, and she swore her heart missed a beat or two. “nothing?” she murmurs, almost to herself. she shot him a glance, something a bit harsher. “why am i here then?” her voice was louder than usual, and had an edge to it. “you know my reasoning here, yet it feels i’m stonewalled.”
he sighed, running his hands through his messy curls. “cause,” he hesitated, another sigh escaping. “god.” he mumbles, letting his head fall backwards and lean against his chair. “i shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. y’gonna get yourself killed.”
she froze in her seat, “why do you say that?”
he groaned softly, shifting in his seat once more. she picked up on how restless he can be when upset. “you want to write y’little heart out on this, make a good story.” he says firmly, staring her down. “and it will, it will make a good story. but they’re not gonna clean house, make things the way it should.” he shook his head. “they’ll kill you, and then threaten your boss into confirming that y’were chasing a conspiracy, Y/N. you’ll not only be dead, but soil your own name in the process.”
she didn’t move, her mouth agape. she couldn’t help the small feeling that she was tricked sit in her chest. he could’ve turned her away from the get-go. she would’ve found another lead, another story. but now her job knew of her efforts, and her boss already doubted that a woman could publish such news. her shoulders falter, lips falling into a frown. “you already let me in.” she muttered, shaking her head. “everything here can be anonymous. but i’m not backing away now.”
he rolled his eyes, his frustration evident - but he could only blame himself. he dangled the carrot, he sucked her into his whirlpool of corruption that any reporter would be a fool to ignore. and if his death was a result in this, his own sword would be in his executioner’s hands. “god help you.” he sighs, clenching his jaw.
she took that as his defeat, and a small grin spread across her lips. she reached for the whiskey bottle that previously filled his glass, bringing it to her lips and taking a swig with a wince she couldn’t stifle. “don’t think theres one between us.” she whispers her reply, shoving the bottle toward the man across from her.
harry chuckled softly at her words, though there was no humor in his eyes. he caught the bottle as it slid toward him, the amber liquid sloshing inside. he took a long pull from it, his gaze fixed on her over the rim. there was a silent understanding now, one that settled uncomfortably between them. they were both two sides of the same coin - her driven by the need to uncover the truth, and him, trapped by the web of corruption he'd helped weave around himself.
Y/N felt dizzy, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the whiskey or the way he looked at her. the quiet between them made her unsure if the should bid her goodbyes, or sit with him for a bit longer. he didn’t make an effort to shoo her away like he would usually do, but he didn’t ask her to stay, either. but, like a jinx, harry stood from his seat, rounding the desk until he towered over her. he extended his hand down to her, gently pulling her up from the chair. she wobbled, and harry watched her through half-lidded eyes. “y’alright?”
“i’ve had a few.” she smiles sheepishly, removing her hand from his. the inside of his hands were calloused, a faint bruise on a knuckle or two, though the top of his hands were soft. “i think i should head home, if we’re finished here.” she murmurs, slowing inching toward the door to avoid tripping in front harry.
he lets out a breathy laugh, ushering toward her and placing his hand on the small of her back - barely. his fingers lightly grazed the fabric of her dress, and his palm simply hovered instead of pressing down. “let me walk you then.”
she furrows her brows as she shrugs her coat back on, shooting the curly brunette a look as he pulled open the door. “i can manage.”
he only smiled again, following her along the hallway into the main area. “m’not letting a pretty girl walk home alone, all the while dizzy from havin’ a few.”
she exhales through her nose, pursing her lips. of course he was right, but she wish he wasn’t. she dreamt of a world where women could feel safe, but it was only 1925, and the feminists of her time could only do so much with what they were given. so instead, she settled on wishing that at least her future daughters will have more. he lead her through the familiar corridor, stealing a glance or two.
harry pulled the door open for her, the crisp air hitting her a bit harsher than she would’ve liked. she hastily buttoned up her coat, a hand lightly touching the small of her back again. they walked quietly, only the wind and the click of their shoes audible as Y/N lead the way. harry’s nose began to flush a shade of pink, his curls dancing in the breeze. the alcohol made her feel a bit warmer however, or maybe it was her coat, or the hand she knew was on her back. “just around this corner.” she utters, breaking the silence.
they round corner, entering her street. brick apartment buildings sat on the edge of the sidewalk, along with a few small shops and a mechanic a little bit farther down. “not too bad of a walk.” harry adds, watching her start up the steps toward the main entrance. he stops by the large glass door, hands shoved in his pockets as she opens it. she looks at him expectantly as he just stands there, bobbing on his heels from the cold.
“coming in..or?” she trails off, raising an eyebrow at him.
“um.” he mumbles, taking the door from her hand and pulling it further open to step in behind her. “only if you’re okay with it.”
she laughs, traipsing toward the staircase with harry trudging close behind. “you walked me, least i could do is offer you something warm to drink.”
harry only smiles, remaining quiet as he mirrors her steps. she was only on the third floor, which harry thanked his lucky stars for, since his legs already ached from his jog in the morning. Y/N walked a few doors down, stopping on the fourth before unlocking her door and holding it open for the musician enter behind. she hangs her coat and drops her keys on the entry table beside her door while harry locks it from habit.
she toes off her shoes, encouraging harry to follow her into the kitchen and take a seat - in which he does silently. he feels almost too tall for her things, like it was a dollhouse intricately made for her. the floral table cloth on the round table hung off the sides gently, kept in place in the center by an unlit candle and a cute, little ceramic trinket. he couldn’t help but smile as he took in the surroundings, everything fitting into her personally so well. the floors were creaky and wooden - almost dull, but she brightened things up with all the pretty colors she could find. of course there was a fluffy rug in the sofa room, not to mention the bookshelf adorned with all kinds of books and little sentimental items she’s collected over the years. it was homey, and it was just hers.
she placed a mug in front of him, a raised etch of lavender right in the center. he fiddled with the tea bag, letting the steam wash over his face. Y/N had sit in the only chair left, which was across from him. a chill radiated off the window, but the temperature in the apartment was comfortable, nonetheless. harry had eyed her notebook that sat on the edge while he took a sip, and it took almost everything in him not to ask if he could take a peak.
“i don’t usually drink.” she says softly, tracing the florals on the tablecloth. “since the law and everything. but it’s nice.”
he places the mug down, nodding along with her. “it is.”
“i swear,” she whispers, reaching her hands out and taking harry’s wrist in her palm. he shivered from how cold her touch was, but melted into it as she began to trace the anchor inked onto him. “i could write a story on these alone.”
he grinned, his breath hitching. a daze clouded her eyes, and he knew it was just the liquor speaking for her. he still chose to enjoy it, however. his eyes threatened to flutter shut, to sink in his seat until he floated to the ground like a leaf shaken from a tree. but his trance came to an end as she pulled her fingers back, fidgeting with her own again. “sorry.” she mumbled bashfully.
“s’okay.” he shrugged. it was more than okay. he picked up his mug again, taking another sip. they sat in a blissful quiet, harry eventually finishing his tea to which she placed the used mug into the sink to reside in for the night.
Y/N leaned against the counter, and she could feel every beat and flutter of her heart against her chest. harry watched her expectantly, standing in her stunning dress in something as simple as a kitchen. a spring flower blossoming in the dead of winter - she was otherworldly. “i’m gonna change and i’ll walk you out after, okay?” she asked softly, to which earned a nod from harry. she began to step away, but before she peeled off into her bedroom, she paused, “you can look over my notes so far.” she murmurs, eyes glancing to her notebook before she crosses over to her bedroom.
harry felt like she read his mind. with her permission, the man doesn’t think twice. as she disappears, he pulls the book open to read over her pages. neat and cursive all in black ink, annotations and question marks in her margins. everything fit into this girl so well - it was almost alarming how her heart lived on her sleeve. but his jaw tightened at her writing, both their names everywhere. he knows that they only discussed anonymity prior to leaving, but it made his stomach twist seeing his name next to all these investigative questions and statements. his nostrils flared as he stood from the chair, walking out her door without so much as a goodbye.
*
Y/N had spent the last seventeen hours in a haze. after hearing the slam of her door, she rushed out only to find an empty apartment and a spread open notebook on the side of the table harry sat at. she had read over her pages more than once, but she couldn’t find a hint as to why he was upset. she had only wrote down what was said, maybe her own questions here and there, but it wasn’t anything offensive. all she could do is sit with her worries as she fell into sleep, and then on her bus ride to work the next morning. she helped out on other small article, not sure if this apollo piece would even see the light of day. was she even supposed to go to the club tonight? was that harry’s way of ending their conversations all together? she had spent the entire shift like that, but her mind went quiet on the way home. trees and people passed in a blur from the window, and a sigh of relief fell from her lips as she saw her apartment building come into view.
before she could even trudge up the staircase to her floor, one of the doormen stopped her with a gentle shout. “ms Y/L/N!”
her eyebrows furrowed, meeting him in the middle of the lobby. “what’s happened?”
he chuckles, shaking his head as he ambles over toward the front desk and pulled a powder blue gift box from underneath and walked it over. “a man dropped this off for you this afternoon.”
if her eyebrows could knit inward all the way to the opposite ends of her head to create an intersection, they would. “sorry? what man?” she asked softly, almost to herself.
“brown haired gentleman, tall.”
she only looked up in slight disbelief at the doorman, but offered him a gentle smile and a thank you as she rushed up the steps. the description was vague, but she could only assume it was harry. right? she unlocks her door, pushing it open with her shoulder and slamming it shut with her foot as she stumbles into the kitchen, placing the pretty box on the counter while she just stares at it. it was wrapped in a white lace bow, and she almost didn’t want to unravel it from how cute it sat. (but she did anyway, of course).
her lips parted at the sight before her, unfolding the cream-white fabric to open up to her as exhaled out of shock. the dress was a white that reminded her of vanilla, the trim neckline and shoulders were lace that faded gorgeously into a tinseled dress that would fall above her knees. she only assumed the tinsels would dance with every twist or turn she could make. she draped it over her forearm after admiring the fabric, noticing a small hand written note that lay at the bottom of the box.
see you tonight,
H.
and once the evening drifted into dusk, she slipped on the same coat and made the routine trek back to apollo. the music echoed from the club a bit louder tonight, most likely because it was friday. it was a warmer night in october, causing more people to be out and about. she stepped in, the electricity in the lounge immediate. there was clearly wealthier patrons about, and everyone’s voices blended in with the melody that came from the stage - not harry.
her dress dazzled in the low light, and she felt more at ease with how she mixed in with the other women here so effortlessly. she stepped further in, spinning around once or twice to see if she could spot harry, but, no avail. she wondered if he was even here, and if he wasn’t, why was she?
she took a breath and moved toward the bar where louis stood with a familiar grin. “didn’t expect you tonight.” he greets, sliding over a cocktail he had quickly thrown together.
“no?” she asks, picking up the glass and taking a small sip, happier that it was tastier than the liquor last night. “harry isn’t here?”
he shook his head, rummaging about behind the bar. “he is, he just didn’t mention that you’d be popping in. usually does.”
she frowned, forcing down another sip. she didn’t want to think about the possibility that harry didn’t expect her, thus not being the one to drop off the gift. beneath the glamour of the lounge, there was a buzz in the atmosphere that felt ominous. men in suits held conversations at desolate tables, and there was clearly white powder dusted about from previous lines. the event spelt specific, not its usual casual undertone - like the night was made for something. then, out of the corner of her eye, harry came into view. he walked from behind the curtain, only giving a soft smile to the men he had passed on stage. his clothes were dark again, hands shoved into his pockets as he glanced around. his movements were slow, like he genuinely wasn’t expecting her to stop by. his eyes weren’t eager, and his ears didn’t perk up in attempt to listen to her melodic voice. he greets someone unbeknownst to Y/N, shaking their hand with a flat-lined smile. he seems to look through the woman, a face that couldn’t compare to the journalist he’s become accustomed to. through his blank gaze, he spots her, nevertheless, and he had to take a deep breath to keep himself upward. of course she looked stunning, the lights above her making her face glow, while also reflecting prettily off her dress. none of them even moved for a moment - drinking one another in.
she shifted as harry neared her, leaving the woman with a puzzled expression. he looked good in his suit, but there was an edge to his demeanor. he didn’t smile at Y/N like he did to the woman, but his eyes held more than a tight-lipped smile could. as he stood before her, he nodded toward her dress, a hint of confusion lingering in his features. “blending in again, eh?”
she hesitated. it felt like things were moving in slow motion as harry reached past her to grab a drink from lou, sipping it gingerly as he stared down at her through half lidded eyes. “you like it?”
he swallowed, swishing around the ice as he nodded. “i do.” he says, quiet enough for only her to hear. “how many of those y’got?”
this is where she could allow her heart to take shelter in her throat. she studied his gaze, looking for even a smidge of taunt on him, but there was none. he was being genuine. she shook her head, lips parting. “you didn’t gift it?”
now it was his turn to look confused again, his forehead wrinkling from a furrow. he leaned beside her, only one hand beside her right hip on the surface of the bar. they were close, her arm against the edge of his chest. “what are you talking about?” he asked softly, and she could feel his breath above her ears. “be natural.” he cooed, but his body was tense.
she complied, of course. she didn’t move, remaining smushed against him as she takes a sip from her drink. “this dress was left for me. it had a note, seemingly by you.”
Y/N could hear him swallow, and it didn’t ease her worries one bit. harry sighed, licking his lips before he draped his arms across her shoulders, pulling her into the corner of the bar. it was still open enough for prying eyes, but just a little less visible. he guided her back against the counter, harry towering over her as he faced the crowd - his eyes occasionally scanning behind her. “play along.” he whispers, brushing a loose strand that fell from her clip behind her ears. “what’d the note say, dove?”
by his demeanor, Y/N knew he was troubled with something. she knew she should be shaking with fear in realization that it wasn’t from him, but the butterflies in her stomach gaslit her into believing she was alright. his touch was pillowy and warm, and she could melt in it if he’d let her. but she felt his hand drop, and her eyes snapped open. “um.” she paused, shaking her head ever so slightly. “said see you tonight.” she mumbled, watching his jaw tighten. “H.”
he froze, all attention placed back onto her. she had glanced around, looking for onlooking eyes but harry gently pulled her chin back his direction. “what?”
oh, how she wanted to drop to her knees and pull the fallen angel back up to heaven.
“it ended with H.”
his sigh was heavy, and his grip never fell from her chin. he had parted his lips to speak, but was interrupted by a large hand patting his back. he dropped his grip, glancing at the man beside him. brunette and basically the same height as harry. brown haired, tall gentleman. check.
“you received it well!” the man beamed, all attention pointed at Y/N, to which she only nodded. he extended his hand, lightly shaking hers. “you’ll have to excuse the H initial. figured you would trust that most.”
her eyes darted between the two men in front of her. harry was guarded, as per usual, but his eyes were worried. and the other man, stood confidently, unwavering. “you’ll have to forgive me.” she started softly, “but what is this for?”
“you’ve been around a lot.” he paused, wrapping his arm around harry’s shoulders. “with my star here.” he grinned, not releasing harry. “and i had to silence my intrigue on the pretty girl that made a pattern of coming and going with hushed words.”
she nodded.
his eyes narrowed, unraveling his arm from harry’s frame. before he could form another word, harry stepped over beside her and had pulled her head into his lips gently, kissing her temple. “s’my girl.” he stated. there was no shake or waver, and if Y/N didn’t know anything she would’ve believed it herself.
“your muse!” the man exclaimed, a smirk spreading across his lips - but there was a glimmer in his eye. a doubt, but it was barely there. “i thought we told each other these things?” he asked, but it sounded rhetorical.
“i’m so sorry.” Y/N frowned, shaking her head. “i had begged him for privacy. i didn’t think it would bring trouble.”
his eyes narrowed again, a smile still on his lips but it felt like he could see right through her. “no trouble at all.” he said lowly, nodding toward her. “our work is a lifestyle.” his eyes shot at harry, his smile faltering slightly, but not completely. “not a fan of surprises myself but,” he paused, his gaze befalling Y/N’s. he reaches for her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “i enjoy seeing you in my own surprise.” he murmured, eyes raking up her dress. and with that, he left. Y/N was sure she was only in a lucid dream until harry had pulled her away toward the awfully familiar hallway.
wordlessly, his hand remained around her wrist as she followed without protest. his shoes clicked over the tile as he pushed open the door with a little too much force, ushering her in and slamming it shut behind him. his chest rose and fell rapidly, back leaning against the closed door.
“say something.” she pleaded, her voice shaking.
he held up his finger, shaking his head as his nostrils flared. she took the hint, quietly leaning against his desk with a pout. his digits ran through his disheveled curls, and after it felt like hours had passed, he finally looked up at her.
“harry.” she whispered, it was weak. pathetic even. and she would kick herself silly if she saw herself now in the perspective of her a week ago.
his jaw clenched so hard she thought she would see it snap with screws and coils shooting out. he mumbled something under his breath, incoherent to Y/N as he darted to his desk, causing her to move aside before he swept everything of its surface and onto the floor. “fuck!” he shouted, his cheeks red and eyes starting to gloss over. she wanted to reach out, pull him into a hug and coax him into even breaths but it wasn’t in the cards right now. “i-”he paused, it almost sounding like a whimper. he stumbled to lean against the desk, gripping the edges until his knuckles turned white.
she swallowed dryly, her shoulders having already fell. she didn’t feel scared, she didn’t think she had a reason to be afraid of harry himself. but she was worried, yes. “harry?” she repeated, almost a whisper.
he shook his head, curls falling over his eyes. the words caught in this throat from how many thoughts bounced through his head. he felt like his world took a 180 from only knowing this girl for five days, and someone noticed. he didn’t expect the guy to know exactly what was going on, but now Y/N is recognizable. a pawn, an object in his life that can be used to dangle in front of him if they saw fit. “-i can’t ease you out of this now.”
she didn’t want to cry. but the weight on her shoulders would make her if she didn’t try hard enough. she had worked so hard to prove herself at her job, and now this one groundbreaking piece for her career could be ripped out from underneath her. part of her blamed herself, he had warned her countless times. and if she had been smart, she would’ve ran for the hills at his first warning. but she wanted to know the ins and outs, but also wanted to know him. her lip betrayed her by quivering, eyes glossed over with tears. she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of humiliation at her failure.
“Y/N.” he calls out, running his hand down his face. he sighs, taking a calculated step closer to her. “Y/N,” he repeated, only softer. his much larger hand removed her own from her eyes in attempt to shield him from her tears. her cheeks were flush, eyelashes damp as he thumbed a stray tear away. he felt responsible, as if he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing - but it was the opposite.
“m’sorry.” she mumbles, eyes finally melting his. “i’ve made a mess of things.”
he chuckled softly. he wanted to audibly agree, but he knew that would make her feel worse. he took a slow step back, hands dropping from her face to her shoulders. “you’re involved.” he said lowly, his heart in his stomach.
“involved.” she repeated, nodding. she sniffled, and all she wanted to do was crawl into one of the booths out there and sleep the rest of the night away. “-you’re letting me write?” she thought out loud, fully expecting that he would’ve pushed her away. it had seemed that way earlier. “i thought it was done?”
he let out another sigh, hesitantly pulling her into a hug. his chin rested on her head, and she very slowly wrapped her arms around his waist - debating if she should. he didn’t know if falsely giving her the title of his girlfriend was the right move or not, but the man seemed to believe it. what else was he supposed to say? she’s the new bartender! not a day in hell. she wants to play here! would’ve forced an audition. she’s the journalist i’m in kahoots with! shot in the back alley. so, girlfriend she is. “m’afraid you’re stuck with me for a while.”
and Y/N wanted to be terrified. she wanted the world to flip upside down and to boil over with anxiety. she wanted to want to disappear from everything completely. but she didn’t. and all that ran through her mind was, how could it be bad if it felt so good?
*
three days later, harry stopped by Y/N’s apartment again, and for the first time, there was no tension, no silent storm hovering between them. she sat cross-legged on the couch, a notebook sprawled in her lap as she scribbled notes, but her eyes shot up as soon as she heard the knock. she hesitated, fingers tightening around the pen.
another knock.
she rose, padded to the door, and opened it to find harry standing there, his dark curls slightly tousled and his expression unreadable. for a moment, they just stood there, gazing at one another like strangers who had seen too much of each other’s souls, yet still didn’t know how to bridge the gap.
“morning.” he said, his voice low, almost tentative.
she stepped aside to let him in. “i wasn’t sure I’d see you again so soon.”
he shrugged, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. “had a few things to clear up.” his tone was casual, but his eyes - those piercing green eyes - betrayed something deeper. a tension he wasn’t quite ready to confront. but he relaxed in her presence for the first time, melting into the apartment that smelt like black tea with honey and the morning paper.
Y/N moved back to her spot on the couch, closing her notebook as harry took a seat across from her, elbows resting on his knees. There was a comfortable silence now, one they hadn’t shared before.
“so, about the other night-” Y/N began, unsure how to dive into the complicated emotions swirling in her chest.
harry’s jaw tightened slightly, and for a moment, she thought he might brush it off like he usually did. but instead, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “i wasn’t expecting arthur to do that. i didn’t want you dragged into that world like that. it wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Y/N nodded, feeling a strange relief at his honesty. she had been waiting for him to shut her out again, to dismiss her like he had before, but instead, he seemed almost open for the first time. “arthur?”
he nodded, “his name is arthur. he’s been involved longer than i have. insanely loyal and in love with the game.” he sighed, leaning back again. though something crossed his expression, a forgotten afterthought. “i’m so sorry-” he rushed out, shaking his head. “you’re not already with someone are you? i don’t want to ruin your reputation.”
she couldn’t help but giggle, shifting onto the rug and scooting herself to sit before his bent knees. “no harry, m’not spoken for.”
he looked down at her, lips parting as he breathed her in. an innocence floated about her like an aura, but sometimes her eyes held something opposite. she was a puzzle to harry, one he wanted to find all the pieces to so badly. an airy relief washed over him, and he knew it was the thought of her not caring for anyone in that way. her eyes were slightly puffy from sleep, her skin softened and lips the perfect shade - she resembled a cherub.
she placed her hands on his knees, pulling herself up. all she wore was a dainty white lounge dress that had tiny purple flowers scattered about, thick socks covering her feet. “would you like anything to drink?”
he had stood up after her like on autopilot, following her small steps into the kitchen. “coffee?” he suggested softly, seeing the back of her head shake into a nod. the girl hummed to herself, a tune he recognized as his own as he sat down. harry couldn’t resist a smile, the soft clatter of mugs and the steady drip of the percolator accompanying her honey soaked voice. “do you take sugar?” she called out from over her shoulder, glancing back at him with a small smile.
“two, if you got it.”
she nodded once more, taking out a small glass dish and removing it’s lid, setting two cubes of sugar in the mug. she stirred it around with a small spoon, handing it to harry as she retrieved a glass bottle of milk from the fridge if he wanted it.
“thank you.” he murmured, listening to the soft clatter and creaks as she sat down across from him. he uncorked the glass bottle, allowing only a trickle or two into his coffee. he settled in his seat, happy to see that the coffee was his perfect shade of brown.
“it feels like you aren’t used to mornings like these.”
harry glanced at her, raising an eyebrow as he took a careful sip. “mornings like what?”
she simply shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “quiet, simple. no trouble brewing over the horizon.”
he let out a soft laugh, stirring his drink a bit. “they come and go.”
they sat in a comfortable silence, a low hum of conversation easing between them. at some point, Y/N had gotten up to make herself tea, taking sips during the pauses of their voices. harry found himself sinking into the moment further, letting the usual tension that sat on his shoulders slip away. it felt like mornings in manchester before he crossed an ocean. the air was calm, his mum’s voice soft.
she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she set her empty mug down, pulling her legs into criss-cross in her chair. “you’re different when you’re like this.”
he furrowed his eyebrows, curiosity piqued. “how so?”
she bit her lip, eyes averting from harry’s as she thought. “relaxed.” she smiled gently. “it suits you.”
harry blinked, unsure of how to respond at first. he wasn’t used to being seen like this - stripped of the persona he so carefully put together - but there was something about Y/N that made him feel like he shouldn’t pretend, despite her interest in the truth. he leaned back, bicep stretch along the back of his chair. “i don’t know how to do relaxed.” he confessed, voice gentle and low.
she smiled again, pillowy and sweet as a dessert. “you’re doing it now.”
there was something about the way she looked at him - like she could see straight through all the mess, straight to who he really was. it was disarming, and he found himself leaning in just a little, his fingers brushing more deliberately against hers now. “maybe you're rubbing off on me.” he murmured, his voice teasing but laced with a sincerity he couldn't hide.
Y/N's breath hitched slightly, but her smile didn't waver, looking up at him through her lashes. "maybe that's not such a bad thing."
for a long moment, they just sat there, the space between them filled with a quiet intimacy. harry's fingers slid up her fingers and enveloped her hand into his. the touch slow, deliberate. she didn't pull away. instead, she leaned in slightly, the rounded edge of the table resting beneath her breastbone.
his heart raced in a way that felt foreign but not unwelcome. it wasn't the adrenaline of a close call or the rush of making a dangerous move. it was something delicate, slower. he wasn't sure what to do with it, but he didn't want it to end. “you’re not scared of me, are you?" he asked hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N's eyes flickered up to meet his, her expression light but sure. "no, harry. i never was.” she confessed. of course it was the truth, she had always felt pulled into him like he was the center of gravity. even when uncertainty loomed over her, a flicker of fear toward harry himself never washed over. perhaps it was natural selection, his beauty a siren call to a sailor - and she followed the melody blindly.
there was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken feelings, before harry shifted closer to her, raising his bum off the seat ever so slightly to lean farther in.
he swallowed, his hand moving from hers to gently cup her cheek. he hesitated for a split second, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt, but all he found was the same quiet confidence she always carried.
without thinking too much, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against her forehead. it was a simple gesture, but one that made her heart swell. she closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of his touch, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist.
when he pulled back, their faces were still close, and Y/N couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips. "that wasn't so bad, was it?" she teased lightly.
harry chuckled, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "no. I suppose not."
they stayed like that for a while, harry having adjusted the chair to round the table and sit next to her. the morning stretched lazily around them as the world outside carried on. but for now, in the quiet warmth of her apartment, everything else seemed to fade away.
before harry bid his goodbye, he left another kiss on her forehead. her shampoo smelt of strawberries and her soft strands of hair felt like velvet against his skin. “need you to join me for an event tonight.” he mumbled into her forehead, pulling away to look into her eyes. he was kneeled in front of her, one leg underneath him while the other in front. his breath smelt like coffee and the jam biscuit she had given him earlier, the familiar scent of the smoky lounge embedded in the locks of his curls.
she hummed, eyes closing as she leaned back ever so slightly. if she was that close again, she might’ve been tempted to press her lips against his. “what for?”
he swallowed, an anxious feeling threatening to creep up his chest and out his throat to word vomit all over her. but he sighed, breath warm against her face. “a colleagues house. black tie event. you were invited.”
her eyes peeled open, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched in confusion. “why?”
“think they’re testing this girlfriend theory out.” he said lowly, the palm of his hand resting upon her knee gently. “don’t believe they suspect much, but i’ll need you on my arm. will you?”
she nodded, searching his expression to look for something hidden. “only if you’ll give me more to write.”
he gave a small smile, sending her a soft nod as he patted his hand against her knee, standing up. “y’have my word.” he stated, stepping off toward the door. and he meant it, she really did have it; both as a promise and written with the ink of her pens.
*
that evening, Y/N stood in front of her mirror, her hands smoothing down the delicate fabric of her dress. if she had owned any dresses, it was definitely an evening gown or two. the pine green gown hugged her figure just right, the hem barely above the floor as she twirled once in front of her reflection. the neckline was that as many of the bras she owned, though a bit more conservative - only a glance of her cleavage available to the eye. the back hung loosely, draped down to the highest point of her waist. the bones and muscles in her back rippled in the light gorgeously, that in itself could be her accessory. her hair was pinned back with loose tendrils falling around her face, and her silver necklace sat at her collarbone. she didn’t often dress up like this, but tonight wasn’t just any night. harry had asked her to play a part, and she intended to do it well.
a knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly gathered herself, giving one last glance in the mirror before padding to the door. she opened it to find harry, his dark curls neatly tamed, a black suit tailored to perfection, and a bow tie hanging loosely around his neck - unfinished. he stood there for a moment, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, and for the first time since they’d met, she swore she saw him falter.
“wow.” he breathed, blinking as if trying to steady himself. “you’re breathtaking.”
Y/N smiled softly, feeling a warmth creep up her neck. “you don’t look too bad yourself,” she teased, gesturing to his unfinished bow tie. “though i think you need a little help.”
harry chuckled, stepping inside as he fiddled with the fabric. “never could get the hang of these things,” he muttered.
Y/N stepped closer, her fingers gently brushing his as she took over, expertly tying the bow. they stood there, inches apart, her gaze focused on the task while harry watched her intently. the air between them seemed to crackle, and for a brief moment, the world outside their little bubble ceased to exist.
“there.” she whispered, smoothing the collar of his shirt. her hands lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “all set.”
his gaze held hers, something unspoken passing between them. he swallowed hard, the tension from the nights before returning, but this time, it felt different - heavier, more intimate.
“ready?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N nodded, though her heart raced in her chest. before shutting the door; she reached over to the coat rack, pulling out a black shaw to wrap around her shoulders. “ready.”
as they stepped outside and made their way down the dimly lit street, the autumn air crisp and cool against their skin, harry reached out and placed his hand on the small of her back, inches below the bare skin revealed by her dress - or lack there of. it was a simple, but the way his hand felt closer than before sent goosebumps over her skin like a tidal waves. it wasn’t just for show anymore; there was something genuine in the way he touched her, something that made her feel more grounded than she had in days.
they arrived at the event after a wave and a whistle to a taxi - a grand estate, the kind that screamed old money and exclusivity. the soft hum of jazz music filtered out into the night air as they approached, their shoes clicking softly against the cobblestone driveway. Y/N squeezed harry’s hand slightly, her nerves bubbling to the surface.
“remember,” he whispered, leaning down so only she could hear. “you’re my girl tonight. no questions. just follow m’lead.”
Y/N nodded, her resolve strengthening as she straightened her posture. she could do this. she wanted to do this. it wasn’t just about the story anymore - it was about him. the world he was caught up in, the danger he carried on his shoulders. she wasn’t going to let him bear it alone.
they stepped through the grand doors, the warm glow of chandeliers illuminating the opulent room. men in tuxedos and women in sparkling gowns mingled, the soft clink of champagne glasses and muted laughter filling the air. harry’s hand never left hers as they wove through the crowd, his grip steady and reassuring.
moving through the throng of people, harry’s demeanor shifted. he was calm, collected, every inch the confident musician with connections to powerful people. he greeted a few familiar faces, keeping Y/N close by his side, his arm occasionally resting around her waist in a way that felt both protective and possessive.
at one point, they stopped by a group of men deep in conversation. one of them, a tall man with slicked-back hair and a knowing smile, turned his attention to harry, then to Y/N. his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.
“this must be the lovely lady we’ve heard about.” the man said smoothly, extending his hand to Y/N. “arthur’s told us quite the tale.”
harry tensed beside her, but Y/N met the man’s gaze steadily, slipping her hand into his for a brief shake. “it’s a pleasure,” she said, her voice calm despite the unease creeping up her spine.
the man’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “likewise. you know, we’re always curious when new faces come around. especially ones as..captivating as yours.”
harry’s grip on her waist tightened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. “she’s with me,” he said firmly, his voice low but clear. “and that’s all you need to know.”
the man raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t press further. instead, he gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer before turning back to the group. “of course. enjoy your evening.”
as they moved away from the group, harry’s tension didn’t ease. he guided her toward a quieter corner of the room, his hand still firmly on her waist, though now it felt more like a shield than a gesture of affection.
“harry.” Y/N murmured, glancing up at him. “what was that about?”
he didn’t respond immediately. he ran a hand through his curls, his eyes scanning the room. “they’re watching us,” he muttered. “arthur, the others..they’re testing me. testing us.”
Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t waver. she placed a hand on his arm, grounding him, bringing him back to the present. “m’not afraid,” she whispered, her voice steady. “are you?”
harry’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. he placed his hand over hers, squeezing gently. “ ‘course not.”
for the rest of the evening, they stayed close, a united front in a world full of shadows and whispers. and though the stakes were high, Y/N felt a strange sense of calm wash over her.
as the night wore on, the atmosphere in the grand estate only seemed to grow heavier. the elegance and tinkling of champagne glasses became a backdrop to the undercurrent of suspicion and subtle power plays. Y/N could feel it - the tension in the air, like a taut string waiting to snap.
harry remained by her side, guiding her through the room like a chess piece he was careful not to lose. every so often, he would lean down and murmur a soft reassurance in her ear - small words meant to comfort, though they were as much for him as they were for her. when he was sure no one else could hear, he would occasionally feed her bits of information of those in the room. things she could write down later.
they drifted from one group of people to the next, exchanging pleasantries with men and women who, by all appearances, were simply enjoying a lavish evening. but she could see the way their eyes lingered too long on her, the flicker of curiosity when they spoke to Harry. she was an outsider in their world, and she knew it.
as they approached another cluster of guests, Y/N’s gaze was drawn to a tall man at the center of the group. he stood out, his dark suit impeccably tailored, and his brown locks slicked with gel gleamed in the soft glow of the chandeliers. arthur. his eyes landed on them almost immediately, a slow, calculated smile stretching across his lips as he stepped toward them.
“harry,” arthur greeted, his voice smooth but with an underlying sharpness. his gaze slid to Y/N, lingering for a beat too long before returning to harry. “and his daphne.” he winked, laced with a teasing undertone. it struck something in Y/N, like a foreboding whine on a cello vibrating in her chest. daphne. apollo. the huntress he fell in love with. a journalist ravenous for truth.
harry’s grip on Y/N’s waist tightened slightly, but he kept his voice steady. “arthur. you’ve made your introductions previously.” his tone left no room for further taunts, referring to the night before.
arthur’s smile didn’t falter. if anything, it grew more amused. “ah, yes. but i’m afraid I didn’t get the chance to know her better.” he looked at Y/N now, his sharp gaze flickering over her dress, his lips curving into a smirk. “you do make quite the striking pair. no wonder people are talking.”
she felt the weight of his words, but she didn’t waver. she offered a polite smile, her hand resting lightly on harry’s arm. “i’m afraid i don’t pay much attention to gossip.”she said, her voice calm and measured.
arthur chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “smart girl. but in this world, my dear, what people say can be just as dangerous as the truth.”
before Y/N could respond, a woman joined the group, her gaze sharp and calculating. her long, dark dress shimmered as she moved, and she carried herself with the grace of someone used to commanding a room. her blonde hair was pulled into a bun, adorned with pearls.
“arthur,” she purred, placing a hand on his arm. her eyes flicked between harry and Y/N, and a knowing smile curled her lips. “i see you’ve finally met harry’s companion. been the talk of the evening.”
he inclined his head slightly, his shoulders relaxing. “indeed, i have. a pleasure.”
Y/N could feel the weight of their scrutiny, the way they were testing her, pushing for a crack in her composure. but she kept her head high, refusing to let them see her falter. she wasn’t here just for harry’s sake - she had a job to do, a story to uncover. this world, as uncertain as it was, held the key to something much bigger than any of them.
harry, sensing the tension rising, spoke up again, his voice cool. “it’s been a lovely evening, arthur, but i think it’s time i took her for some air.”
arthur’s eyes glinted with amusement. “of course, harry. i’ll see you as the night continues.”
the was a subtle threat buried in those words, but harry didn’t take the bait. instead, he nodded curtly and gently guided Y/N away from the group, his hand firm on the small of her back.
they found a quieter corner of the grand ballroom, away from the prying eyes and sharp tongues. Y/N exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her nerves finally catching up to her.
“what was that?” she whispered, turning to harry as soon as they were out of earshot.
harry ran a hand through his curls, his expression tense. “he wants t’rattle me. but i see it in his eyes, he’s fallin’ for it. slowly.”
“and what happens if he doesn’t?” Y/N asked, her voice soft but steady.
he met her gaze, his green eyes filled with something unreadable. “he wont, dove. i won’t let that happen.”
she swallowed, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on them - the stakes higher than she had anticipated. this wasn’t just a simple gathering of the city’s elite; it was a power play, and she was right in the middle of it.
but she wasn’t alone.
he reached for her hand, his fingers lacing through hers as he pulled her a little closer. his voice was low when he spoke again, almost too soft to hear. “y’doing so good, yeah? jus’ keep following m’lead.”
Y/N nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand steady her. his praises allowed a heat settle between her thighs as well, his cool breath a contrast that allowed her breath to hitch.
they lingered in the corner for a moment longer, the noise of the party humming in the background. Y/N could feel the weight of harry’s eyes on her, the way he seemed to be thinking about something he wasn’t ready to say. but before she could ask him what was on his mind, a familiar voice interrupted them.
“there you two are.”
Y/N turned to see louis approaching, a relaxed smile on his lips with a flute of champagne in his hand. his easy demeanor provided a brief respite from the tension that had been hanging in the air. harry’s hand loosened slightly around hers, though he didn’t let go.
“didn’t expect to see you tonight, lou,” harry greeted, his voice still holding an edge of caution though a small smile tugged the corner of his lips.
he shrugged casually, swirling his drink before taking a sip. “figured i’d pop in, someone’s gotta supply the alcohol.” his eyes flicked between the two of them, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you two seem to be handling the attention well.”
Y/N glanced at Harry, sensing the subtle shift in his stature. he was more relaxed with louis around, but she could tell he was still nervous. it was as if he was waiting for the next move, the next subtle threat hidden behind a pleasant smile.
lou has been a friend of harry’s since arriving to america, having worked behind the bar alongside with him before the opportunity of music presented itself. louis had a kind heart with a tough exterior. he wouldn’t have expected him to be in this line of work, but louis explained it was necessary to support his family. the economy struggled, and jobs were few and far between. he’d rather risk being caught bootlegging than burning alive in a factory with a boss who couldn’t care less.
the shorter brunette raised an eyebrow, catching the tension between them. “arthur giving you a hard time?”
harry’s jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. “he’s testing the waters.”
he chuckled, shaking his head. “sounds like him. loves to push people, that one. see how far they’ll go before they crack. but don’t worry, mate. he’s all talk tonight. no one’s going t’make a scene here.”
Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at his words, though she still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. the event had an air of sophistication, but beneath the polished surface, there was a current of something darker - something she was only beginning to understand.
louis set his empty glass down on a nearby table and turned to Y/N, his expression softening. “y’holding up alright? not the easiest crowd for a newcomer.”
she smiled, though she felt the evening pressing down on her. “i’m fine, really. just trying to keep up.”
he gave a small nod of approval. “you’re doing more than keeping up, love.”
harry shot lou a warning look, but he waved it off with a smirk. “relax, H. they’re impressed. they don’t know what to make of the relationship yet, but that’s good. keep ‘em guessing.”
she was in a role tonight - harry’s partner, his girlfriend as far as the others were concerned - but it was a game, and she was still figuring out the rules.
before any of them could say more, the sound of a glass being tapped echoed through the room. the buzz of conversation faded into silence, attention turning toward the center of the ballroom where arthur now stood, a drink in hand and a smug smile on his face.
“ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice commanding the attention of the room. “i’d like to make a toast. to good company, to old friends, and to the future that lies ahead of us all.”
there was a murmur of agreement as glasses were raised, but Y/N noticed the way arthur’s eyes lingered on her and harry. a smile spread across his lips, a glimmer in his brown eyes.
“to new faces,” he added, his gaze locking onto Y/N. “and to the fresh opportunities they bring with them.”
Y/N’s stomach tightened. the toast was meant for her - thinly veiled, but it was there. she could feel harry tense beside her, his fingers pressing gently into her waist. he didn’t move, but she could sense the shift in him, his calm facade now cracking under the weight of arthur’s words.
“cheers,” the brunette finished, his glass raised high as the rest of the room followed suit. the clinking of glasses filled the air, and then, just as quickly, the room returned to its previous hum of conversation and laughter.
but she could feel the change. arthur’s toast had been more than just a public greeting - it was a message. she wasn’t just a guest here anymore.
louis leaned in slightly, his voice low. “watch your back tonight, love. arthur doesn’t like loose ends.”
harry shot a pointed glance toward his friend before tugging on Y/N’s hand toward arthur’s direction. she smiled softly at lou before quickening her stride to keep up. “saying our goodbyes.” he mumbled, “we’re leaving.”
his pace was quick and purposeful as they made their way across the extravagant room. she followed closely, her pulse racing as she felt the weight of arthur’s gaze settle on them before they even reached him. it wasn’t just a casual departure - it was strategic. harry knew how to play his cards.
arthur shot them a wide grin, a knowing look flashing in his eyes. he tilted his head slightly, swirling the golden liquid in his glass with a lazy grace. “leaving already, harry? night’s still young.”
he didn’t falter, his voice calm but firm. “got t’get her home at a decent hour. just came to say goodnight.”
arthur’s eyes flicked to Y/N, his smirk lingering. “a shame. was hoping to learn more about your muse.” his words were light, but there was a distinct undertone of menace.
Y/N stood a little straighter, refusing to shrink under his gaze. she smiled politely, though the steel in her eyes matched harry’s. “m’sure we’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted in the future.”
he chuckled softly, the sound sending a chill down her spine. “i look forward to it.” he glanced back at harry, raising his glass slightly. “safe travels, old friend. see you soon.”
harry gave a sharp nod, his grip on Y/N’s hand tightening just enough to signal the need to move quickly. “of course. goodnight, arthur.”
without another word, harry guided her swiftly toward the exit. the cool night air hit them like a wave as they stepped outside, the tension in the room left behind but still clinging to their skin.
Y/N exhaled sharply, her breath visible in the cold as she glanced at harry. “what now?”
he ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched as he looked down the dimly lit street. “take y’home and help you write.”
she nodded, hoping to shake off the lingering unease that wrapped around her like a shroud. “do you think he’ll try anything?” she paused, glancing up at him. “he seemed interested.”
he held onto her hand, guiding her down the long driveway and to the sidewalk. “interested in you, yes. but it’s more about power for him. wants to see how far he can push, wants to have an aspect of control over me to keep me from leaving. i don’t think he knows.”
as they walked down the neighborhood to meet the main road, he kept a pace brisk. his fingers were still interlocked with hers as if anchoring them both. once turning a corner and being met with the lights of the city, harry waved down another taxi to bring them back to her apartment. the ride was quiet, the low buzz of a radio echoed a host’s incoherent words along with the sounds of the tires against the road. he guided her up the steps of the complex after being dropped off, reaching for the keys she had told him to hold onto and allowing the door to open.
hey both settled in at the coffee table, shoes having already been taken off but they still resided in the evening’s attire. harry softly told Y/N things to write down, her hands flicking out the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen. “i still feel guilty.” she murmured, continuing her movements. “for making your life more difficult.”
he shook his head, softly placing his hand across her paper to stop her writing. “nonsense.” his tone was soft, but firm. sincerity. he sighed, pulling her soft, cold hand into his. the pen rolled off the edge of the notebook, falling onto the rug. “arthur has a way of getting in someone’s head, makin’ them doubt themselves.” he paused, thumbing gentle circles on the back of her hand. “but s’nothing. i know you’re smarter than his antics.”
she nodded, her cheeks turning a tinge of pink. his touch was soft and electrifying all at once, a rubber band stretching in her belly threatening to snap. the grip on her hand went loose, his lips parting ever so slightly. her hair was down, having taken out the clip once she walked through the door. the sight of her sitting on her heels across the small table was a teasing in it of itself. his chest tightened as he let go of her hand, scooting around the coffee table to sit beside her. her perfume was light and floral, and when he noticed her chest start to rise and fall more hastily he felt himself twitch. “Y/N..” he trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. he kept his hands on the table, nervous to act on the thoughts that bounced around his head.
the pads of her fingertips trailed along the fluffy rug until she reached his thigh, her touch light and meticulous against him. “harry.” she whispered, almost breathless. “can we still pretend?”
his hand met hers before he gripped her wrists lightly, halting her movements all together. “pretend?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. of course he knew what she meant, but watching her cheeks blush into a darker shade of pink made his pulse quicken. “pretend you’re still mine?”
she nodded sheepishly, a heat pooling between her thighs pathetically. she wriggled her wrist in his grasp, her lips in a slight pout. “treat me like your girl.” she pleaded quietly. “just for a while longer.”
harry hesitated, eyes burrowing into hers like he was searching for answers. her eyebrows furrowed with need, eyes clouded with a desperation that pulled harry away from her eyes. he tugged on her wrist, gently pulling her into him as she tried to scoot her bum across the space between them simultaneously.
he cupped her cheek with his other hand, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that sent her heart racing. she melted into him, the kiss deepening as he maneuvered her wrist-in-hand to his lap, bounding her to him. the warmth of his body against hers ignited a fire within her, and she felt herself yearning for more. he bunched her grown above her knees ever so slightly as he pulled her onto him, his large hands kneading the flesh of her bum as his tongue swiped past her lips, brushing hers.
with a sudden shift, harry broke the kiss and guided her to sit on the sofa, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "relax, sweet girl.” he murmured, hands trailing up her soft legs and dragging her dress back up along with it.
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he settled between her legs, trailing gentle kisses from her knee, up her inner thigh until he could see the thin fabric of her panties clinging to her wet cunt. his hands looped around her thighs and spread them apart. the cool air against her skin sent shivers through her body, heightening her senses. she leaned back against the sofa, her heart pounding in more places than her chest. "harry," she gasped, her hands tangling in his hair hesitantly as he continued his exploration, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake. the anticipation built within her, and she could feel herself aching for his touch. she knew what was he was intending to do, though she’s never felt it before. she lost her virginity in high school, but only heard the idea of a man’s face between her folds through her best friend. she believed it to be a fantasy, only existing behind her eyelids as she fingered herself underneath the covers - until now.
"just a taste" he mumbled, his voice low and sultry, but it sounded as if he was talking to himself. his lips grazed over the wet spot of the fabric, the gasps that fell from her lips melodic, and he wondered if he could mimic the melody on his guitar. his thumb grazed up her covered folds, pressing down on her clit hidden between. she hissed, his fingers finding themselves looped around her underwear, pulling them down in a swift movement. he bunched up her dress a bit more, nearing her core as he gazed up at her through his eyelashes, an eager grin on his lips before he pressed a soft kiss against her most sensitive spot. his breath was hot against her, hands gripping the place where her hips and thighs met. his lips brushed over her folds before he spoke, “y’trust me, Y/N?”
her fingers remained threaded in his curls while she nodded feverishly, which only earned a tsk from harry. he placed a few kisses on her inner thigh and around her folds, the girl squirming underneath his hold. “my girl would use her words.” he taunted gently. he inched closer to her core as she whimpered multiple pleases. the sensation was foreign and electrifying, a shiver cascading down her body.
he placed a tentative kiss on her bud to get a feel for her sensitivity. her back arched involuntarily as she tried to pull his face closer to her dripping cunt. he responded eagerly, tongue flicking out to taste her - a jolt of pleasure shooting through her. his lips enveloped her clit, sucking and lapping like it was the best flavored lollipop in the local candy shop. although he only promised a taste, he would go against his word - already addicted to the way she felt against his mouth. “this okay?” he asked against her, keeping his movements the same until she answered.
“yes-” she whimpered, riding her hips against his face. “more, H. please.” she breathed, desperate for his movements to continue. the sensation wasn’t anything compared to her fingers - intimate and raw, filled with a heat that threatened to consume her.
his tongue flicked hungrily as he explored her with deliberate care. he licked and sucked, tongue swirling in ways that made the coil in her belly tighten. she bucked her hips against him, strings of desperate moans falling from her parted lips. nothing existed outside of this moment, including the neighbors behind thin walls. she cried out profanities that mixed in with his name, harry continuing his assault on her cunt. the knot in her tummy tightened, threatening to release - but she didn’t want it to end just yet. his mouth was ecstasy against her, and she wanted to ride out this high as long as she could. he didn’t rush, his tongue moving in slow languid strokes. his left hand trailed softly down her leg, his thick fingers sitting at her her entrance before he slowly pushed two in, feeling her walls clench tightly around him.
he couldn’t stifle the small groan that escaped him, reverberating against her pussy as he flicked the tips of his fingers upward. he leaves sloppy kisses around her thighs while his thumb encircles her clit greedily, watching the sight before him as if it was the first colored film with clear audio. “har-“ she moaned, having trouble forming coherent words. “m’gonna-“
“y’gonna what?” he asked lowly, quickening his place. “tell me, dove.”
her moans were messy, getting louder as she nears her release. he removes his hand, gripping onto her hips again and pulling her flush against his face. she could feel the tension coiling in her core, the pleasure mounting in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating.
she was on the edge, teetering on a precipice she had never experienced before, and harry seemed to know it. he slowed down, drawing out every moment, savoring her reactions, until Y/N couldn't take it anymore. her back arched, her hands gripping the sofa as her body gave in, the pleasure crashing over her like a wave.
her body trembled, every nerve alight as she rode out the overwhelming sensation, harry's touch steady and grounding. his mouth never left her core, lapping at her as he drank in every drop of her release. and when the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she collapsed back against the cushions, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.
harry lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he climbed back up, resting beside her. his lips and chin glistened with the remnants of their passion, placing a gentle kiss atop her head.
once the tremors subsided, he stood up in a fluid movement, taking her hand into his as he gently pulled her up from the couch, guiding her to the open bedroom. he helped her sit on the edge of the bed, combing his fingers through her disheveled hair. “y’clothes in the dresser, dove?” he almost cooed, to which he earned a nod. he crossed over to the dresser with flowers etched into the wooden surface. he pulled out a thin, white nightgown, helping Y/N out of her dress to slip the gown over her head with care.
he leaned over the bed as he helped her get into the spot against the wall, tucking her blankets her frame. before he could step away, her fingers caught his, her expression weary and but wanting. “pretend a while longer?” she frowned, “don’t go.” she pleaded, fingers slipping from his as she patted the spot beside her.
“y’want me to sleep here?” he thought out loud, his gaze tender as it lingered on her. “y’sure?”
she only nodded as harry began to shrug off the blazer, undoing his belt that hugged his slacks around him. his fingers struggled with the bow tie, a sigh falling from his lips as he put a knee on the bed, leaning over with a small smile. “requires your assistance.”
she giggles quietly, undoing the bow tie before he pulled away and stripped down to his boxers. the moth on his abdomen fluttered with every breath as he slipped into the spot beside her, head resting flat against the pillow as she pulled herself into his side, draping an arm lazily around his torso, head on his shoulder. “thank you f’today.” he mumbled, tracing slow patterns along her back through the fabric of the nightgown.
she hummed, eyelids heavy as her breathing slowed. she listened to his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin a perfect contrast to the coolness of the blankets. it felt like heaven against her. she drifted further into slumber as she parted her lips, whispering out, “thank you for everything.”
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.
You loved the days Harry drove you to work. He'd make sure you arrived at the office with a hot coffee in hand and a fresh kiss on your lips.
But you also loved it because it meant he'd pick you up from work, too. All day, you'd have something to look forward to. You'd get in his car and he'd hold your hand and ask you about your day.
Lately, Harry took great joy in spoiling you. You think it has to do with being exclusive to one another. That decision didn't come long after realizing he was working with your father. You and Harry unlocked a new level of connection, and he was quick to officially lock you down.
It was like you'd been upgraded from princess to queen. Most times when he picked you up from work, he'd already have takeout in the car or dinner reservations made. You had even received one or two gifts waiting for you in the passenger seat.
So when he picked you up today, you were a little taken aback by his solemn mood. "I was thinkin' we'd take a little trip," he said, pulling out of the parking lot.
You furrowed your brow. "Okay. I can look at my work calendar tomorrow and--"
"No, I mean tonight. Just an overnight thing," he replied.
You blinked. "Harry, it's Tuesday."
He exhaled from his nose. "I know. I just think maybe we should get away tonight," he restated as he pulled to a red light.
You paused. "What's going on?" you asked finally.
He cleared his throat. "Your dad's… Um…"
"He's away for the week. Is something wrong?" you tried to get to the point.
Harry chewed his cheek. "My order was to get you out of the city," he said.
You blinked. "Well, what about my mom?" you asked after a second.
"Your uncle's taking her," he answered.
The fact that you were being taken separately struck you; if you were together, you could be taken out at once.
"What's going on?" you asked again.
He sighed. "I don't know, Y/N. Really. I told them you'd want to know more. They just told me to take you away," he said, and watched as you paled.
"Where's my mom?" you asked, tearful.
"I don't know," he said.
"Just drive, then," you mumbled, folding your arms and slouching into the seat.
He let you stew in silence for a bit before resting his hand on your thigh. "I know it's not what you wanna hear, baby. Trust me, I tried. I'm sorry."
You got out your phone and called your mom.
"Y/N--" he tried.
She answered the phone.
"Mommy, where are you?" you asked.
"Hi, baby. Your uncle's taking me on the highway. I think Daddy has a surprise in store for me," she said, and your stomach twisted.
"Can you text me where you're going?" you asked.
"I can ask your uncle in a second. What's going on with you?" she asked you.
"Nothing, Mommy. I just didn't know you were leaving on a trip."
"Well, I didn't either. It's a surprise. Listen, Y/N. He's having me navigate, so I really can't talk. I'll call you when we get there. Bye!" She hung up.
You turned to look at Harry who was red in the face. "Y/N," he complained.
"What? You weren't telling me anything," you snapped.
"I was just about to tell you to turn your phone off. Just in case it's being tracked or something," he said. "Your uncle is supposed to do the same for your mom."
You blinked. "Can I at least text my boss to let her know I won't be in tomorrow?" you asked.
"Wait until we've got this under control. You never know who could implicate things. Turn your phone off, please," he instructed you again.
You glared at him for a while before shutting off your phone and staring out the window, facing away from him. He took his hand off your thigh.
You slid your phone into your purse silently. "Where are we going?" you asked.
He cleared his throat as he pulled onto the highway. "At least three hours away."
"Can we stop for dinner?" you asked.
He sighed. "Not right now. Let's wait an hour or so," he said. "I'm sorry. I know you're hungry after work, but I didn't have time to stop."
You picked at your nails.
"I said I'm sorry, baby. The good news is that I packed you an overnight bag in the backseat. I remembered your swimsuit, so hopefully the place we find has a pool."
"It's fine. Just drive," you replied.
When you arrived at a hotel three and a half hours later, you were exhausted, to say the least. You spent the drive mostly in silence and worried about your dad, your mom, and the severity of the situation. You were also afraid Harry might try to confiscate your phone.
Harry set your bag onto the queen bed and you flopped yourself alongside it.
"Do you wanna check out the pool?" he asked.
You shot him a dirty look. "Not really."
He came over to massage your back, but you rolled over.
"What's this about?" he asked.
"What's it not about?" you shot back. "You picked me up from work today to tell me my dad might be dead, I need to turn my phone off, and we're going three hours away with no real destination other than to separate my mom and me in case someone's hunting us. Not to mention, I was starving for the better part of the drive with nothing to do," you listed.
"You can eat any of the snacks in here," he offered.
"Gee, thanks," you retorted, getting up. "I'm taking a shower," you announced, awkwardly grabbing your purse along with your pajamas.
He watched you, furrowing his brow. "I didn't bring any… feminine products," he said then.
You turned beet red with fury. "Oh my God, I am not on my period! I am just annoyed for all of those very fucking valid reasons I just listed!" you exclaimed.
"Then why are you bringing your purse into the shower?" he asked.
You paused, chewing your lip. Fuck. You should've known Harry was better than making that chauvinistic comment.
"I don't want you to take my phone, okay?" you mumbled. "It's turned off, I swear."
He nodded. "Understood," he spoke after a beat.
You stood there another uncomfortable second before retreating into the bathroom to shower. He gently knocked on the door while you were getting undressed.
You resisted the urge to sigh immaturely. "Yes?" you asked.
"You can use this to play music if you want," he said, opening the door a bit and holding out an old MP3 player. "I don't know if you saw, but I brought your book. Sorry I forgot to mention that in the car."
"It's fine, I get headaches when I read in the car anyhow. Thanks," you said, grabbing the device and setting it on the sink.
"I know it's hard. I'm sorry. I love you," he said through the door.
"I love you, too," you said softly.
"Okay. I'll let you take your shower." He shut the door then.
You finished in the shower and rejoined Harry in the bedroom, ensuring that your phone was still in your purse. He was eating chips and reading a book of his own as reruns played on the TV.
You set the MP3 player next to him. "Thanks. It had some good songs," you said quietly, meeting his eyes shyly.
He nodded at you. "You're welcome. It's a must-have when undercover."
You joined him in bed then. "So… How often do you go undercover?" you asked.
He shrugged. "When they need me to." He probably wasn't allowed to tell you.
You turned your attention to the TV. He offered you some chips.
"No thanks," you said quietly.
He shut his book then and began watching the TV with you. You snuggled into him after a bit. The program was boring, and you needed a better distraction from your anxiety.
You leaned up to capture his lips in a chaste kiss.
Not long after, his hands were roaming your body gently. "Oh, sweetie… Even like this, I can feel you're so tense. Can I take it away for you?" he asked.
"Please," you whispered, and he needed no further instruction.
He adjusted so he lay overtop of you, and you whimpered a bit before his lips remet yours. "Baby, relax," he whispered. Even with his best and consistent attempts using his hands, words, and lips, you were still shuddering and stiff.
He nestled his nose to your ear. "Hon, I don't think it's right to go any further right now. Is that okay?" he asked.
"Mhm."
He kissed your cheek. "Okay. Wanna just do this for a little more til we fall asleep?"
"Yeah."
"Psst," you heard in your ear.
You stirred from sleep. "Hm?" you asked.
"Hey, I just got word we're all clear. Your dad is okay. He's with your mom right now. They're staying at the resort your uncle took her to for the rest of the week," he said softly.
You sat up.
"Sorry I woke you up. I thought you'd want to know," he said after a second.
"No, thank you," you said, nodding. "I guess this whole thing just threw me off. I don't remember ever doing anything like this before," you told him. "My dad goes on trips, but my mom and I usually just stay home."
He nodded solemnly, and you could tell it was a close call.
"Is he hurt at all?" you asked.
"I don't think so. They didn't mention anything," he said.
"Can we go home today?" you asked.
"Yeah. I booked us a session at the spa unless you wanna head home now and try to make it into work," he offered.
You shook your head. "Can I turn on my phone and text my boss?"
"Yeah," he said, getting up and retrieving it from your purse. He had to search for what pocket it was in. Either he was a really good undercover agent, or you could trust him.
You turned on your phone and texted your boss that you were sick and couldn't work that day. "What time is the spa?" you asked.
"Ten," he answered.
You nodded your appreciation. "Wake me up before nine."
He kissed your forehead. "Sounds like a plan."
After the spa, you loaded your bags back into the car and hit the road. You were thinking of how you wanted to spend your afternoon when Harry spoke up.
"I'm sorry how all this happened," he said.
You shook your head, grabbing his hand. "No, I'm sorry I acted so immaturely. You were just doing your job."
He sighed. "I don't like ordering you around, though."
You gave him a skeptical glance. Harry definitely didn't have a problem being in charge. Neither did you, but you appreciated that he was a man with initiative. "You don't have to lie," you said half-jokingly.
He smiled. "No, but I don't like it when you're obviously upset and confused. I really didn't know how to go about it," he shared seriously then.
"I appreciate you being so sensitive. And again, sorry I didn't have the best attitude," you replied.
"I didn't expect you to," he said, changing lanes. He added, "I love being with you, but I don't like being in these situations. I want the best for you, and I get that you get defensive."
You nodded. "I think it'll just get better with time. I understand you can't tell me things."
He cleared his throat. "There is one thing I wanna tell you."
You perked up.
"Everything I do, everything I’ve done, is all so I could have a chance with you, Y/N," he said. "I would never, ever hurt you. I would never disobey the group and put you in jeopardy. We are all working in the best interest of your family and all of our safety. If I ever felt that they weren't doing right by you, I would speak up. I spoke up yesterday and told them that you weren't going to buy the overnight thing as easy as your mom did. Maybe they'll listen better next time once I report back," he said.
"I don't mean to make your job harder," you said. "I can listen better next time."
He sighed. "I don't want there to be a next time."
"Well, it kinda seems like there probably will be," you said realistically.
He ran his thumb overtop your hand for a bit before speaking up. "I'll be okay. As long as you remember what I told you."
You nodded. "I will," you said solemnly. "I love you, Harry."
"I love you, too, princess. What do you want for lunch?"
hey girl! this is really random but i was looking for an account that find fics and i saw that sometimes people ask you so i thought i’d give it a shot
basically it was a long fic about harry getting arrested and going to jail for a good few months but the reader gets pregnant as he goes to jail
she doesn’t tell him but i’m pretty sure niall is in the fic and he helps her change their house into a nursery etc and she’s sad that harry isn’t there to help but goes and visits him sometimes and im pretty sure he’s trying to find a way to get out quick
that reminds me actually he could’ve been mob!harry because now i’m thinking, i’m pretty sure a deal of something went wrong so they get pulled over when he’s driving or something and that’s how he’s arrested
and niall may be one of his guys so he takes care of y/n whilst also trying to help get harry out of prison with their connections
anyways he gets out eventually and she picks him up from prison but she’s heavily pregnant which is how he finds out and he’s really happy and then they have sex in the car because he can’t resist
sorry that was so over explained but i’m dying to find it so if you or anyone knows plz let me know!! thanks <333
Hi! No worries:) it’s true I do get lots of these asks lol and somehow I never know when I get them 🤦🏻♀️ so useless, sorry! 😭
But if anyone has read this or knows where to find this mob!Harry fic please drop it in the comments or send a link! It sounds really good!
Congrats on 1k‘🥰 So for the sleepover can I request this for Harry Holland “You weren’t there…why weren’t you there? I needed you! I needed you! And you weren’t there!”
𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬
⤷ mob!harry holland x reader, stabilized relationship, cursing, assault (!)
prompt: “you weren’t there… why weren’t you there? i needed you! i needed you! and you weren’t there!”
words: 1.3k
You knew you shouldn’t have left the house on your own. With your boyfriend’s line of “work”, you knew you’d be an easy target for whoever wanted to mess with him. Harry had warned you about the dangers of his lifestyle before you started dating, but you assure him you were okay with that, and that you’d take all the precautions he thought necessary for you to be safe.
One of those precautions was never going anywhere alone, that’s why you had your bodyguard follow you around wherever you went. Today, you had made plans with your boyfriend to go shopping, so you had given Jake, your bodyguard, the day off, seeing as you’d be with Harry when you left the house.
Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned and as the clock reached 3 pm, an hour after what you and Harry had planned, and he still hadn’t shown up, you gave up on trying to call and text him, deciding to get into a cab and go by yourself.
That didn’t seem to be a problem as you made your way through the stores, looking and trying everything that caught your eye, but as you made your way out of one of them, carrying two bags on each arm, you felt the presence of two men behind you, which at first, didn’t bother you that much, but as they kept following you around, no matter how far you went, you started to feel like maybe you were in danger.
Taking your phone out of your purse, you tried to call Harry again, but it went straight to voicemail, just like the other times. As you rounded a corner, trying to get away from the two men behind you, you felt a third one cover your mouth, grabbing your body and dragging it to an alleyway nearby, before slamming it against the wall, holding your hands. “Fuck!” You screeched, as you felt your head hit the concrete.
As you opened your eyes, you saw a bald man staring at you with hungry eyes, “So you're the new Holland’s princess. I gotta say, those kids know how to choose their girls.” He smirked, showing off his yellow teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, let me go!” You tried to fight them off but he was, obviously, stronger so it ended up being pointless. “Uh, she’s a feisty one, I like it!” The man said, trying to lean in to kiss you but you spat on his face instead. “Bitch!” The bald man growled, before leaving a harsh slap on your face.
You felt the skin of your cheek burn, the tears that had brimmed your eyes since the attack started, now ran freely through your face. “Hey, go easy! Boss said he just wanted us to send a message.” Another one of them said, his thick accent making your stomach turn. “He didn’t say we couldn’t have some fun, though.” The man that had slapped you said, trying once again to kiss you. You gave him a kick on the crotch this time, earning a harsh punch on your stomach in retaliation. “Oh,” you moaned in pain, feeling dizzy for a few seconds. “Let me show you how I treat whores like you.” Said the bald man, before hitting you one more time.
The same thing kept happening, again and again, the man would try to harass you, only for you to fight back and get beaten up for it. You had no idea how long the attack lasted, all you knew was that, when they finally went away, you were left on the ground, crying in a mixture of pain and fear, the tears blurring your eyes, making it hard for you to see who you were calling to.
Turns out, it was Harrison, one of Harry’s friends, and at that moment, you couldn’t be more thankful for hearing him pick up the phone.
Ten minutes later, a car stopped in front of you, a blond figure getting out of the car. You felt so weak, you didn’t even have the strength to check who it was. “Hey y/n, it’s me.” You heard Harrison’s voice, your sobs growing in size upon realizing someone was there to help you. “C’mon, let’s take you out of here,” Harrison exclaimed, carefully lifting your body, helping you get inside his car.
Harrison must've told everyone what happened, ‘cause when you got home, the Holland’s came rushing to your side, wanting to know how you were feeling, all except one, your boyfriend, who still hadn’t shown up. Tom’s girlfriend, Maria, helped you to a bath she had prepared, helping you undress and get into the tub since you still felt like you had been run over by a truck.
Half an hour later, you were tucked in bed, your hair still wet from the bath, feeling a tiny bit better after taking a few painkillers Maria had offered, as well as a bottle of water that you chugged all in one go. After taking care of you, Maria left, ushering you to get some rest. That turned out to be a difficult task to be done though, since every time you closed your eyes, images of the man hitting you came rushing back into memory.
It was much later when you heard the bedroom door open, the sound waking you from your light slumber. Thinking it was Maria checking up on you yet again, you mumbled a little “I’m fine, Mar!”, not even bothering to turn around. “It’s me, baby!” You felt your whole body tense upon hearing Harry’s voice, the sound of his footsteps growing louder as he approached you.
Taking a seat on the bed, Harry tried touching you, only for you to crawl deeper under the covers. “Hey, it’s me, love. Are you okay?” Your boyfriend asked, trying once again to reach for you. “y/n, talk to me, please! Are you hurt?” He seemed genuinely concerned but you were just too angry to care. “Am I hurt? I don’t know, Harry! What do you think? Do I look like I’m hurt?” You snapped, finally showing your face to him. Harry’s eyes immediately widened upon seeing your bruised face, “Baby…” he mumbled, tears brimming his waterlines.
You avoided his touch once again, “Where the fuck were you, Harry?” You asked, feeling a new batch of tears. “Baby, I’m sorry! I was at a meeting and I left my phone at the office. I’m so sorry, darling.” Harry let it out, trying his best to explain himself. “You weren’t there…why weren’t you there? I needed you! I needed you! And you weren’t there!” You cried, tears blurring your vision. “I’m sorry, y/n! I’m sorry, I should’ve been there with you. I’m so sorry!” Harry reached for you, caging yourself in his arms while you tried to fight him off. “I needed you, Harry! I needed you.” You kept mumbling, finally letting yourself sob in his arms. “You’re okay! I’m here now, baby!” Your boyfriend assured you, leaving kisses on the top of your head.
It took a solid fifteen minutes for you to calm down, finally taking your head from your boyfriend’s chest and looking at him. “I’m sorry they did this to you, darling!” Harry whispered, taking your face in his hands. “I was so scared, Harry!” You cried, Harry quickly dabbing your tears away. “I know, baby! I’m sorry! I promise you they’ll pay for that.” Your boyfriend said, leaving kisses all over your face. “Just pick up the phone next time I call you.” You let it out, a small smile appearing on Harry’s lips. “I will! I’m never letting anything happen to you again, y/n. I promise!” You felt a sense of safety in Harry’s words, making you lean in and leave a small kiss on his lips. “I love you, y/n!” He mumbled against your lips, “I love you too!” You said, burying your face back into your boyfriend’s chest, where you stayed for the rest of the night.
Please like if it’s not too shabby, re blog for anyone who you think may enjoy and follow if you want to read more! I love you all! Be safe and be kind x
AN: I have always wanted to write this, and I’m so excited to carry it on! I’m in no way medically trained, but I have researched as best as I could with medical areas. If anything is completely inaccurate, educate me, please don’t have a go at me!
Masterlist
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Your day consists of work, eat, sleep, wake, repeat. You never had much time to do anything else, considering most day’s you worked 12 hour shifts on your feet, by the time you were back into your small, cosy apartment and had eaten, you just wanted to sleep until you had to wake up and do it all over again.
When you were younger, you always wanted to be a singer. You wanted to be on stages in front of hundreds of people, singing your heart out and having them scream your lyrics back to you. It was all you’d ever dreamed of, until you were 13 and you had to watch your Grandad be rushed into hospital.
You nearly lost him, and it was a miracle you didn’t. You were 13 when he had taken you to the park on a walk to get ice cream. You were 13 when he collapsed on the floor beside you. You were 13 when you had to call an ambulance. You were 13 when you had to do CPR on your Grandad with a paramedic on the phone to you. You were 13 when you decided you wanted to help people by becoming a nurse.
You worked your arse off throughout your school years, and once you had completed your A-Levels, at 18, you were accepted into a nursing degree apprenticeship in the heart of London. You had lived in a small village in the county of Somerset, as much as you loved it because it was home, the local hospital was very quiet, and you didn’t feel like you would be able to reach your full potential. London hospitals were crying out for nurses and doctors, they had a continuous flow of people in the doors.
You had been doing your job for 3 years now, your time was split between the General Care ward, and the A&E department. You were always happy just to go wherever you were most needed.
The General Care ward was quiet compared to A&E...well in some ways. Your shifts there consist of giving food to your set patients, making sure they’re comfy, hydrated and at least smile three times a day. Taking blood, checking blood pressure, giving medication, checking notes and generally just helping them do whatever they had to do, A&E on the other hand...well, you have to expect the unexpected. You once helped deliver a baby in the car park...now that was an interesting day.
From people coming in with minor cuts and burns, to the patients who were so close to loosing everything. Especially in London, fights and stabbing victims are seen at least 3-4 times per week. You have watched everything possible, from births to deaths, it could be tough in there, and you find yourself having to remind yourself that you have a job to do and people need you.
On this particular day, you were sat on the General Care reception desk, updating notes on the patients files and making a few phone calls. You had just finished your rounds of checks and each patient on the ward had a vision today, usually if you had spare time and there was one, or a few people without visitors, you’d happily go and sit with them for a while. For a Wednesday afternoon, it was fairly quiet.
“Hey Y/N, I know you’re rota’d to be on General Care today, but we don’t have many beds taken up but we do have a full staff list, I know A&E is rammed today. You don’t mind switching to down there do you?” Robert, the head of department asked as he stood on the other side of the desk, elbows resting on the oak wood. He was in his early 40′s and the member of staff who helped you through a lot of your training. He had a beautiful wife and three gorgeous children, who occasionally visited on his lunch break, and you’d often find yourself sneaking around to the staff room with his three children to find biscuits. Since you moved to London by yourself three years ago, they had been such a welcoming family. Often inviting you for a Sunday dinner, and always making sure to tell you that every Christmas, Easter, or birthday, if you ever found yourself alone, there would always be a place at the table with your name on. And for that, you were incredibly grateful.
You had made a lot of friends at work, I suppose you could say it was an ideal group of friends, because you didn’t often have to worry about having to cancel on plans because you were working...because none of you could ever make pans due to the fact you all were always working.
“Of course I can” You smile softly. “I’m on a 12pm-12am shift here, so is it the same down there?” He nods and smiles “Life saver...literally” You both chuckle.
“Oh, how did Lily do in her dance exams?” “Oh she did great, distinctions in ballet, tap and jazz! She was chuffed, her teacher actually suggested she start to train in gymnastics too. Reckons she will really go far with it...” He beams widely, he took so much pride in his family. Tommy was 16, he was the oldest who wanted to follow his dad and be a doctor; Maisie was 10 and had been singing since she came out the womb, and Lily was just about to turn 6, she loved to sing, dance and act, mostly dance, and was always getting her mum to send you videos of the latest dance she had learnt in class.
“I’ll page Júlia now and let her know you’re coming down” He nods and smiles, giving you a small salute as you headed into the General Care staff room, to grab your bag from your locker. You check your phone quickly and set it back into your pocket before hurling your bag over your shoulder and heading downstairs to A&E.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my superhero” You hear a soft chuckle behind you as you stick your bag in the A&E break room locker. You turn your head and grin widely “Aren’t I always?” you smirk. You and Júlia took the same apprenticeship here when you began three years ago, she was your first friend, now your best friend and honestly, you don’t know how you ever lived without each other.
She was small and petite, with long dark hair and glasses, and outside of work uniform, which 80% of the time was scrubs covered in someone else’s blood, she had the best fashion sense. You bonded over a small Harry Potter deathly hallows tattoo on her right wrist on your first day, and now every other month you both have a ritual, a tradition if you will. Full of junk food, blankets, your sofa bed in the living room and all eight Harry Potter films, back to back. 19 hours and 32 minutes from start to finish and it was worth every second.
You hug her tightly and grin. “What time are you on shift til?” She hugs you closely and sighs. “Til midnight, I’m on a twelve hour shift today and I only started...barely an hour ago” You smile. “What’s todays bets?" you ask curiously as you quickly take a sip from your water bottle.
“Well...it’s only Wednesday, so we reckon there will be one bicycle incident...two that come in with broken bones, one car crash and we haven’t had any stabbings yet this week so chances are that could be a strong contender today” She sighs and smiles. You get used to seeing a lot when you work in A&E, so before each shift, the A&E department usually guess what will come in that day, and whoever guesses correctly gets first choice of donut the next shift.
“Any gang rumour tip offs this week?” Living in London, you could be sure that hidden in the bright city lights and busy tube trains, there were much darker secrets lurking in the alleyways. Organised Crime Groups were very popular, however no one knew the full extent of them. Injured members of these groups would only ever be treated at the hospital if they were found by the police, and even then, they were smart.
As staff, you were always alerted of those who were on the most wanted lists, but it wasn’t always at the front of your mind when it was a matter of life and death. You had also been told that they use fake names, alias’s, but you would never really be able to tell. For all you know, anyone could be lying to you. But you had a job to do and you were there to help them, that was what mattered the most to you.
“Not yet, although the police were here looking for someone the other day. Thought they had seen her coming in the front door in scrubs pretending to be a nurse, but turns out it was actually one of the nurses” she chuckles.
“Oh really? Robert mentioned that the other day, who were they looking for?” You ask curiously. You couldn’t help but wonder sometimes, you’d grown up in a tiny village, where trouble never took place.
“Vicky or...Viktoria...Viktoria Wood I think they said” She shrugs. “Showed us a photo and I had to do a double take at first because she looked just like you” Her lips let out a chuckle as they curve into a smile.
“Must of been ugly then” You roll your eyes and smile, feeling a hard whack on your arm in seconds. “Will. You. Stop. Doing. That” She mutters in between hits. “Ouch! Will you stop hitting me?!” You groan, but give her a smile “I’m not doing anything-”
“You’re beautiful...I mean, even I would” She winks and smiles.
“Who wouldn’t you?” You raise an eyebrow and return her smirk from earlier. “Cheeky bitch” She mutters and laughs as you both head out of the quietly isolated room and round the corner, into the middle of the department.
“Mmmm, it’s still fairly quiet here today-” Júlia sighs softly
“You see...now you just jinxed it! Lula, have you learnt nothing?” You roll your eyes playfully and smile, pinching her arm.
“Oww! Hey!...okay fine! I deserved that, I’ve learnt my lesson now. You never say the Q word in A&E” She mutters.
“Who’s in charge of resus today then?” You ask as you look around, after greeting some of the other nurses and doctors on duty today.
“Alex” Isla sighs, while updating a patients notes. Isla was much taller than you, and only two years older than you. She had bright blonde hair with the deepest brown eyes.
“Oh great, is he that bad today?” You roll your eyes and raise a brow, she just looks at you with a knowing nod, before muttering a good luck with a chuckle as she picks up the phone to dial.
Alex. If anyone could make your blood boil it was definitely him. You’d dated him for a few weeks last year and it was awful. He was possessive, controlling and down right manipulative. You had broken off the relationship after five weeks, and he hated you for it. Maybe it was because he had been confronted about his behaviour, or maybe it was because he was power hungry and wanted to control everything.
“Ah Miss Y/L/N…how nice of you to arrive…an hour after your shift begins!” He glances at his watch with a smug look as you turn to face him and roll your eyes to him. “Actually I was rota’d for Gen Care today but it was quite so they asked me to come down here. So why don’t you just zip it and go and do your job” you fucking twat.
His brown eyes glare into yours before he runs a hand through his short, brown, slicked back hair as he walks away. Your angry thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of the red phone beside you. The red phone only rang when it was an ambulance coming to the department. When you began this job, the sound of the phone used to give you nightmares, now you’re more accustomed to it.
“Royal Hospital London, Resus” you speak into the phone, taking a pen in your hand and a form to the desk.
“One male, 25, stab wound to the left shoulder, suspected fracture to right ankle, patient in and out of consciousness” you nod as you listen to the paramedic on the other end of the phone, and write quickly, also noting down the heart rate, and other numbers you needed.
“Thank you, what’s your ETA?”
“ETA 4 minutes” you nod and hang up the phone before pressing on the microphone button “adult trauma call, ETA 4 minutes” your voice rang through the speakers of A&E resus and in that split second, a bed was being freshly wiped down, plastic aprons were being tied up, wires and machines pulled out along with any equipment that could be needed. When you were dealing with someone’s life, you couldn’t be wasting time finding supplies.
It was overwhelming at first, but now you know what your doing, you know that no matter who this person is, their life is in your hands, and they had family and friends who needed them to survive.
As the doors burst open, it was a suddenly pure chaos and rush.
“This is Ryan Hart, 27 year old male, drifting in and out of consciousness, stab wound to the left shoulder, other knife wounds as well as bruising. It seems as if it was a provoked attack, possible fracture to the right ankle” You all listen to the handover and nod.
The bed surrounded by doctors, nurses and paramedics, with a muscular, blonde man groaning on the bed in pain. The pure white sheets quickly becoming stained with crimson liquid. Stab victims especially...you could never predict the outcome.
Hours passed as you all managed to get the patient stable, cleaned up and into surgery. The first 24 hours are critical for any life threatening injury, as midnight struck and your shift came to an end, you couldn’t help but sigh softly as you grabbed your bag and keys “Hey, Ju, you want a lift home?” You head over to her and pull your jacket on, the midnight October chill was descending quickly these days.
She nods and sighs as you both clock out and head down to your car. As you head home you finally speak up. “You did good today...” You smile softly.
“Thanks, so did you. I guess we’re kind of...used to it now. We nearly lost him a couple of times.” She admits with a sigh. “You know, the first time I ever saw a patient come in, in that condition, I thought I’d never be able to cope with it. Now...unfortunately, it’s another days work” You shrug and sigh. “At least on busy nights, Alex isn’t being too much of an arsehole” Júlia smiles with a soft chuckle. “You’re not wrong there! When are you next in work?” You ask, parking up to her apartment. “Friday, got tomorrow off.” She smiles.
“Same here, you coming over tomorrow?” You yawn softly. “Do you even need to ask!” She smiles, hugging you tightly and kissing your cheek as she thanks you for the lift and heads inside. You wait until you watch her head inside, and you can see the light turn on in her apartment. She always waves from the window to let you know she got in safely.
You headed home, locking the door behind you and stripping your clothes off. Having someone else’s blood in your hair wasn’t unusual for you either anymore. You took a quick shower, pulled your wet hair up into a bun and pulled on a sports bra and joggers, collapsing into bed and drifting off to sleep.
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Friday morning rolled around as quick as you could imagine. You were on a 6am til 6pm shift today on General Care. You pulled up to the car park and headed up. A few new faces in the beds today, one in particular you recognised straight away. It was the man from A&E, although you couldn’t help your surprise as you had assumed he would be in the Intensive Care Unit. Robert strolled over with a coffee in hand for you “Thanks” You smile “So, no critical care for Mr Hart then?”
Robert shook his head, “Whatever happened that night...he was bloody lucky. His surgery went great, bit miserable and serious for a 25 year old though. Good luck with him today” He chuckles and hands you his notes as you flick through quickly. You wander through the ward making your morning rounds.
“Morning Betty, did you sleep alright?” You smile. Betty had been here for two weeks now, and you couldn’t help but admit that she was a favourite of yours. “Much better now that old miserable man beside me is gone” She chuckles as you help sit her up and get her some water.
You pull open the curtains to the last bay with a small smile “Morning, I’m Y/N and I’ll be your nurse today” He grumbles a tired hello and sits up, groaning softly. “Do you want me to grab you another pillow?” He looks up at you with a raised brow. “Well I asked for one yesterday and that bloke said no. Little shit” He mutters grumpily. “Well...I don’t feel like being mean to people today and I know discomfort when I see you” You chuckle and sigh, going to grab another pillow. “Ryan, right?”
His brow furrows “How do you-?” “I’m good with faces. I was working in A&E on Wednesday when you came in. Does anyone know you’re here?” You chuckle softly. “No. And keep it that way” He says sternly, adjusting a pillow behind his back as you frown softly at small spots of blood poking through his gown. “Sorry...do you mind if I just take a look at your side...looks like you might need to be cleaned up or re-stitched.”
He sighs “I don’t have a choice do I...” He mumbles. “Nope!” You grin as you go to grab fresh stitches, a dressing and bits to clean up with, as you turn you felt someone crash into your side, almost knocking you clean off your feet.
“Sorry I-” You squeal as you felt two arms engulf you tightly, stopping you from falling “Sorry there lil’ darlin’. My fault” Your eyes were glued to the emerald jewels gazing back at you, a mop of curly brown hair and a black suit, he was definitely a charmer.
“I was actually just looking for the toilet...I always get lost in these places...don’t know how you do it!” He chuckles softly, sweet little dimples on show. Wow. “Oh...yeah sure! You get used to it after a while. Just down this corridor, go right then it’s the first left” He smiles.
“Cheers...I’m Marcel” He offers out a gentle hand, you grin sweetly and shake his hand. So soft, so warm. You couldn’t help but melt at his gentle touch. “Oh...Y/N...” You grin. “Nice to meet you Marcel...I best get back to work...wounds to re-stitch and all” You chuckle softly, giving a shy smile and waving the bits in your hand gently.
“Of course, nice to meet you too Y/N...maybe I’ll see you around” His smile reminded you of the Cheshire Cat, bright and wide as he waves, heading to the toilet as you walk back to Ryan’s bed. “Sorry about that...someone nearly knocked me over” You chuckle and sit at his side.
You pull up the gown gently at his side and you couldn’t help but frown softly, his side poked with bruises and cuts...but something seemed strange about it. “It might sting a bit...” You pre-warn and gently dab the small cuts with the anti-septic liquid, earning a soft hiss from his lips.
“Has it been itchy?” You ask softly, looking up at you, his mouth and eyes still grumpy as he nods. “That explains it...I need to re-stitch your side” You sigh and gently get to work. “How did this happen anyway? I haven’t seen any police question you...” You admit quietly, glancing up at him. “What are you? A fucking detective or something?” He grits out with a sigh. “Sorry...Sorry I’m just tired” He mutters and you nod. “I understand...if it’s any consolation...I’d make a shit detective” You give him a soft smile, making him chuckle slightly.
Your fingers grazed over his fresh stitches, it looked as if whoever did this wanted him to suffer. H S. Just those two letters were cut into his skin, leaving a scar for life. You couldn’t imagine ever being in that position, what you didn’t notice, was those beautiful emerald eyes from earlier, had been burning into you every second while you re-stitched your patient.
Once your shift was over, you tidied up the desk and yawn softly.
“Long day huh?” Your gaze meets up to meet those same pretty eyes from earlier. “Oh hi...Marcel right? Yeah I...guess you could say that. You’re...still here?” You shrug and smile.
“Yeah...Marcel” He smiles. “Oh yeah, I was visiting my auntie...she’s in the ward round the corner. Actually I erm...well I was just leaving. Can I walk with you downstairs?...don’t want to get lost again” He chuckles.
You give him a sweet smile “Of course” You grab your bag and say goodbye to the staff as your shift was finally over. “Actually, I was speaking to my auntie, she told me how you had taken care of her last week...I’m really grateful. Jean...bed 172 I think” He holds the door open for you sweetly.
“Oh yeah...she’s lovely. You’re more than welcome! It’s my job” You shrug and smile. “Well, I know that’s your job but...some nurses aren’t the nicest” He shrugs “I don’t suppose I could...take you for coffee or something as a thanks...if you don’t have any other plans tonight of course?” He offers and smiles.
You thought hesitantly for a moment, but it made a change from your usual routine “Erm...yeah sure! Why not” You smile. “There’s a great place just round the corner” You suggest and smile.
He nods and follows you as lead the way. “So...have you been doing this job long?” He asks, making small talk “Well, actually I moved here to London to do a degree apprenticeship three years ago when I was 18. Originally from just a small town in Somerset” You smile and find a small table in the corner. “Ah! I was wondering about the accent” He chuckles. “What can I get you?” He offers. “Are you sure? Erm, just a hot chocolate will be great. Thanks” You smile, quickly checking your phone under the table quickly before putting it back in your pocket.
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That’s all you remember. So when you wake in a cold sweat, with heavy eyes and a pounding in your head, it was safe to say you were confused. You blink warily, unsure of your surroundings. Deep red walls, a fire crackling by your side, black wood furniture, with a flat screen tv against the wall. “Well, well, well...look who’s awake. Didn’t even put up a fight did you missy. That’s very unlike you darlin. I didn’t even have a disguise this time...just a stupid fake name.” You hear a smirking comment from behind you. Your body froze as you glace down. You were held tight against a chair, bound by rope at your wrists, waist and ankles. “w-what...what’s g-going on” You whisper shakily, panic filling your veins as you felt tears slip down your cheeks.
“Oh come on...I think you know” You were met by those striking green eyes once again, but this time they were dark and clouded, a hint of evil behind them. “M-marcel?! Where are we...what’s happening” You choke out a horrified sob. “Oh cut the fucking act out now!” His voice changes in an instant, booming through the room.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You were terrified, and in that second you regretted raising your voice in the slightest. “Please...please let me go! Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything I swear” You sob, choking on your panicked breaths. Your mind was flooding back to everything you’ve ever known. This was going to be it. Never seeing your family ever again, not seeing your best friend, everything you worked hard for in the last three years would be taken away in an instant.
“Maybe you can start telling me what the fuck you and James are playing at Vee...I’m still going to kill you...so you may as well tell me” He breathes heavily down your neck as you felt the cold metal against your temple. Beads of sweat balling on your forehead as you felt another slight pinch of metal nip your skin, just under your jawline.
“P-Please believe me...I-I don’t know who James is” You sob, your eyes squeezing shut. “Stop lying Viktoria! You played a very good undercover game...but you can drop the shitty accent now. I know you two are up to something. So the quicker you can tell me, the quicker and less painful I can make your death” His voice was sending chills into your bloodstream, you had never been so terrified in your life. You felt the small blade dig ever so slightly deeper as you whimper louder.
“I’m...I-I’m not Viktoria! I’m Y/N...just Y/N I swear. You have to believe me!” You plead. You turn your head slightly to see a hint of confusion in his eyes from what you just explained. Although your thoughts were interrupted by fast, heavy footsteps running down the hallway and barging through the door.
“Boys! Your supposed to be on patrol what the fuck are you doing back!” The curly brunettes voice boomed in anger.
“Harry! Harry! It’s Liam! He’s been shot!” A thick Irish accent called out as they hurl themselves through the door, dragging one in, holding him up with his arms and pulling him onto the sofa.
Harry? Who the hell is Harry?! To say you were confused and still very terrified was an understatement, but for a second you forgot all of that when you saw a muscular, tall, brown haired boy groaning loudly in agony, you presumed that one was Liam. You whimper as you felt a metal blade cut through your skin. As Harry, aka Marcel, had turned around he seemed to have forgotten he was holding a blade and dropped it slightly at the male outburst. It grazed your shoulder before dropping to the floor beside you.
“Fuck! What the fuck happened?!” Harry rushed over to Liam’s side, leaving you tied to the chair. “H-Harry...t-they’re i-in our territory n-now” Liam groans deeply, clutching at his side with sweat dripping down his head. Then it clicked for you. This was one of those gangs. One of those gangs you heard all the rumours about on a daily basis. Fuck. What did you do to deserve this?!
“Well don’t just fucking stand there! Do something!” His voice boomed to the other three lads surrounding them. You wondered if there was any more. The lad with the Irish accent had obviously dyed blonde hair, which he definitely suited, with striking icy blue eyes. The next had mousey brown hair, with slight stubble, and though you couldn’t tell his eye colour from where you were sat, they seemed like one look could do plenty of damage. The last one had jet black hair, with deep, dark brown eyes and a more shaped beard than the last one. They were all In smart, tight black suits, their guns and knives quickly discarded on the floor as they came in so the could help Liam.
“We don’t know what to do! Liam’s the one with the medical knowledge!” The one with the darkest hair shouts. The blonde one was getting as much tissue as he could.
“Fuck...Fuck he’s hardly breathing Harry!” The Irish one shouts as they panic. “Come on Liam...you silly prat! You need to stay awake come on”
You close your eyes tightly “His lung could be collapsing...” you say loud enough for them to snap out of panic, their heads turning to you. “Who the fuck is this?” The mousey brown one growls.
“We’ll deal with that one later! We need to sort Liam out!” Harry growls back to the other boys before turning to you, pointing the metal gun to your temple. “You...you need to shut the fuck up before my finger slips on the trigger!”
“P-please...I-I can help! Y-you can hold a gun to my head the whole time if that helps and kill me after but I can help him!” You plead. You was terrified, and part of you was kicking yourself for offering your help to someone who was set to kill you, though you had no clue why. But on the other hand, Liam hadn’t done anything to you...as far as you were aware, and you also couldn’t stand there and watch someone suffering. That wasn’t your nature.
“Fucking let her help Harry! What hope do we have?!” One of the boys shouted, causing you to flinch.
“Niall. Undo the ropes and Louis...make sure you have a gun on her at all times....I still don’t trust this one yet. We lose Liam...she gets it. Got it?!” Harry glared at you while you nodded. The blonde boy, who you could now name as Niall slashed the ropes quickly as you got up and stumbled over, Louis standing just paces behind you as he watches your every move, holding you at gunpoint.
“Liam...Liam, I need you to stay awake for me ok...come on keep breathing. You have no idea who I am but I promise I’m going to help!” You promise him as you quickly rip his shirt open. All the terror you were feeling seconds ago, was now pushed to the side. Seeing someone so lifeless and in need of help always kicked your emotion away, confidence taking over your nerves. “I need something thicker than tissue!” You tell the others as you press your hand against the wound to stop as much bleeding as possible.
They all stare at you dumbfounded and you roll your eyes, “oh for fuck sake” you mutter and quickly pull off you work shirt. It was better than nothing. Leaving you in your bra and trousers, blood still trailing down your arm, but that wasn’t your worry right now. “You...”You turn and look to the dark haired boy. “I-I need my bag...if he kept it. I need something in there...Now!” You shout to him as he nods in shock and confusion and rushes off.
You look up to Liam’s pale face. “Liam come on...I need you to wake up. You look like you could order these boys around better than me” You run your fingers across his cheek with your free hand, pushing your fingers against his pulse.
You look up at Harry and Niall “I need you two to keep talking to him! One of you needs to put your fingers against his neck to make sure he still has a pulse...the other one needs to hold this here for me” They rush to Liam’s head and do as they were told, judging by the look in Harry’s eye, he didn’t like taking orders but he kept quiet.
As the guy came back with your bag, you grabbed Niall’s hand and put it over the shirt covering his wound while you rummage through your work bag, pulling out what looked like a pen with red lid.
“Okay...” you take a deep breath and sigh. “What are you going to do with a fucking pen?!” Harry snaps. “It’s not a pen! I always keep one on me just in case! Its a tube...like a catheter. He has trapped air in his lungs and his lung is collapsing, I need to get air out of there asap!” “Have you ever done this before?!” Harry stares at you in disbelief. “...Once” You sigh, grazing your fingers along the top left side of his chest, feeling gently. ”If you fucking kill him I swear to-” “Ok...I know I need you all the be quiet so I can help him” You say softly as the room fills silence. You take off the lid and take the needle and tube out, you take a deep breath as you push the needle perpendicular into his chest. You begin to hear a small rush of air and you let out a breath of relief, taking out the metal needle, leaving a small orange hub poking out his skin. Liam finally groans and rolls his head wearily.
“She did it...she did it!” Niall chuckles in relief. “You need to be careful...He still has an open wound!” You sigh, wiping the tension sweat from your forehead.
“But he’s going to be alright though?” The darkest haired boy muttered worriedly, looking up at you with soft hopeful eyes. “For now...” You nod. “We’ve sorted the most important part and he’s breathing...Have you got anywhere you can take him so I can sort him out properly?” He nods, “Well we have a whole infirmary room. It’s Liam’s area of expertise”
“Well get him in there and I can sort the rest of him out as best I can with whatever is in the infirmary room”
“Who did this to him?” Harry muttered angrily as Louis helped take Liam to the other room.
“Viktoria...Viktoria Wood” Niall sighs. Harry’s face fell and for once his face completely changed. If you knew him, you thought it may have been guilt. But you didn’t know him. A stranger had just kidnapped you, held you hostage and threatened to kill you, until you save his friends life and he realises that he took the wrong person.
