#harry styles mob

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WC:7,091

He reaches a hand against her face again and caresses her warm cheek. She flushes under his touch but doesn’t flinch away.

“Are you scared of me?” He asks.

Y/N gulps and lets out a shaky breath. “You’re a Made Man. You kill and you torture. Of course, I’m afraid of you,” she breathes and it’s the first proper sentence she’s directly said to him… that she’s afraid.

Harry remains quiet, letting himself revel in the sound of her voice. Silky soft, just like her skin and hair.

He dips his face down so he’s level with her. Even with her four-inch heels, he still towers above her, Y/N’s eyes level with his clavicle.

“I kill and torture those who deserve it, those who betray me,” he tells her. “But you are going to be my wife, Y/N. And fear has no place in a marriage.”

or

Y/N’s eighteenth is turned into an engagement party for her arranged marriage.

//

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