Arranged - Pt. 5 (Amore Mio)
Mafia!Chris Evans x Female Reader
Series Summary: Living in this life, you've never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you're dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you're pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He's the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.
Warnings: language, alcohol, arranged marriage (Chris's family signs contract with readers family that promises their firstborn daughter to their firstborn son), parental abuse mentioned, age gap. The reader is 25, Chris is 35. Guns, violence, blood. SMUT. oral, fingering, unprotected sex (18+only)
W/C: 6.5k
This is a work of fiction.
Italian and Italian translation in italics. (The translations were run by someone who fluently speaks Italian, if there are any corrections to be made, please let me know!)
"Sooo..." you leaned back against the counter, pausing for a second to roll your bottom lip between your teeth while you toweled off your wet hands, "Will you be home for dinner?" You watched Chris move through the kitchen quickly, paying attention to his phone.
"No," he responded quickly, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, putting his phone to ear when it rang, "Yeah?"
You watched him for a second, setting the hand towel back on the counter while trying to brush off the disappointment panging in your chest. Almost every dinner for the past 3 weeks was spent much like the first few days of your marriage. Alone, leaving a plate for Chris in the fridge. Only now, the plates were there the next morning instead of being eaten and cleaned. Chris's presence around the house had been scarce while he and Romano tracked down whoever ordered the hit. You made the mistake of asking why they couldn't get the cops involved, which Chris scowled, growling out, "No. Cops." and then left. Again.
You understood why he was busy, after visiting Sebastian, you wanted whoever ordered the hit to pay, too. But you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss him. Things had gotten lonely around here, there were only so many ways you could distract yourself. Although, the many Amazon packages being delivered every day proved that you were at least trying.
Turning around, you dipped your hands back into the soapy water, grabbing the sponge to finish off the dirty dishes from your 10th attempt at making the perfect batch of chocolate chip cookies.
Chris stepped into the other room for his call, leaving you to it. Once again, you were trying to convince yourself that he was just busy and it had nothing to do with you. It was his job. His life. One of his men was attacked and it was up to him to make them pay. That was his life. You were just his wife. If there's anything you learned about this life, it's that you would take a back burner.
You finished up with your dishes, Chris still muttering in Italian somewhere down the hall, and checked the time. 5 pm was still early-ish for dinner, but maybe you could convince your father to let your mother leave with you. It would give you a chance to visit with her and kill a few hours without being so lonely. Once you loaded the dishwasher, you dried your hands again and made your way past Chris to your bedroom to change, shooting a text to Vinnie and letting him know you would be needing a ride in a few minutes.
When you made your way back downstairs a few minutes later, you were surprised that Chris was still there. Anytime his phone rang recently, he was running out of the house a few minutes later.
"Where are you going?" Chris's dress shoes echoed off of the hardwood as he turned the corner muttering, "Dammi venti minuti." (give me 20 minutes) before shoving his phone into his pockets. He adjusted the sleeve of his navy dress shirt, cuffing it once, then looked up at you.
"To visit my mamma, maybe grab some dinner," you slipped on a pair of heels before standing up straight and walking towards the front door again. You offered a small, tight-lipped smile as you passed.
He cleared his throat, "What? No goodbye kiss?"
You paused with your hand on the door and turned slowly, walking back towards him and pecking your lips against his before turning away. You were trying your best to keep your attitude in check, knowing it wasn't his fault that he'd been gone so frequently the past few weeks.
But on the other hand, he'd barely acknowledged your presence recently. Why did he all of the sudden care about where you were going and the fact that you weren't kissing him?
His hand reached out, gripping your wrist and pulling you to a stop, "You okay?"
"Yeah, just wanna get over there soon. If I wait any longer my father will be there and I'll probably pick a fight with him and– I just wanna go... Get out of the house for a little bit," you let out a humorless laugh and lifting your left shoulder in a shrug.
He studied you for a second, his brows furrowing for only a moment before he understood the issue, "I'm sorry, cara."
You shook your head, looking at your feet, "No, don't. Really, it's okay."
"Y/N.." he tipped your chin up with his index finger, meeting your gaze, "I'm truly sorry."
And now you felt like shit. You definitely thought your poker face was a little more convincing. He had too much going on to be concerned with your feelings, too. The last thing you wanted while he was tracking down someone as dangerous as he was, was for him to be distracted.
"Please, don't. It's okay. Just– Just focus on what you need to do and come home to me. Okay?" You reached up, smoothing the crease on his forehead when his brows knitted together, letting your arm fall back to your side when he relaxed a little.
His thumb slid across your bottom lip, his eyes glued to yours as he pulled out his phone, dialing back whoever was just on the phone with him, "Prenditi cura di questo senza di me," (take care of this without me). You didn't know what he was saying or who he was saying it to, but whatever it was, struck a nerve with the person on the other end. Chris's neck flushed red, his jaw clenching at whatever was said to him in return, "Devo ricordarti chi sono? Ne risponderete a me." (do I have to remind you who I am? You answer to me.)
Your pulse quickened, his thumb remaining on your lip. How he could be so worked up at someone over the phone, yet remain so gentle with you awakened something within you. The corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile, reading the want and desire in your eyes. You really needed to work on your poker face.
He snapped off a few more things in Italian, only raising his voice a little before his phone was tucked away again. He jerked his chin towards the staircase, "Go change. Something nice. Tell your mother lunch is my treat tomorrow."
Your hand reached up, gripping the wrist that held your chin, "Chris..." you shook your head, "No. You have things to take care of... And Seb... I mean, that's your priority."
"That's where you're wrong, cara," he leaned down, his lips just barely touching yours, "You are my priority."
You melted into his chest, gripping the back of his neck and closing the distance between you. Never in a million years did you expect those words to come out his mouth. There was a twinge of guilt in your chest when you considered the fact that you've spent a lot of time underestimating just how important you were to him. In its own way, Chris being so dedicated to figuring out everything with Sebastian, only proved just how loyal he was. You knew he would do the same for you. Shit, he had done the same for you when your dad split your lip open not that long ago. The overwhelming realization that you were falling in love with Chris exploded through your body as you pulled him closer, moving your lips against his.
He pulled away, chuckling softly and resting his forehead against yours, "I'm gonna need to stop now, cara, or we won't be leaving the house at all."
"I don't hate that option," you teased, pressing your lips to his again, lingering for a moment, "Go, take care of business. Do whatever you have to do. I'll still be here when you get back."
He shook his head, "Not tonight. It can be handled without me. Get changed, I wanna take you out."
You narrowed your eyes for a second, knowing that Chris owned several clubs, "Out or out?"
"To dinner," he replied, smiling softly.
"Okay," you replied softly, turning and heading towards the stairs.
Before you got too far away, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against him. His lips brushed your earlobe, "Dinner now because I owe you a nice night," he murmured, his voice low, "but I will get you into one of our clubs–" his hand lowered, resting on your hip bone before sliding back to grip your ass, "– and feel this tight ass grinding against me."
You exhaled a shaky breath, "We need to stop... or I'll make sure we don't leave this house."
You felt him chuckle against you before he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your exposed neck, "Go, we'll continue this later." His hand smacked your ass, earning a squeal from you as he ushered you to the stairs, "I'll be waiting."
Practically skipping up the stairs and down the hall, you threw on an emerald wrap dress that fell mid-thigh and a pair of black, heeled, thigh-high boots. You touched up your hair and makeup quickly then made your way back downstairs.
Chris shook his head as you bounced down the stairs, a smile tugging at his lips. Once you reached the bottom of the stairs, he pulled you against him, dipping his head to kiss your jawline, "What are you doing to me, woman?" He bunched up the fabric, slipping his hand underneath and groaning when he discovered no panties, "Fuck, Y/N."
You smirked, barely pressing your lips to his, "We'll continue this later."
"Jesus Christ," he mumbled under his breath, making you laugh.
"Come on, ragazzone," (big/tough guy) you tagged his hand, pulling him towards the garage door.
You took a sip of wine, giggling as the alcohol swam through your veins, "God, no. It was so embarrassing! I ripped my pants in front of the entire school!" He shook his head, taking a sip of the whiskey in front of him, a grin plastered to his face. You reached over, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb, "I missed your smile."
His smile wavered for a second, guilt flickering over his eyes, "I hope you know I am sorry, Y/N. Things have been a little hectic lately and I'm sorry that I've neglected you."
"Chris, no," you shook your head, sitting back, "Please don't forget that I know this life. I was– I mean, I'd gotten used to having you around. I forgot we couldn't live in the honeymoon stage forever."
For about the 100th time since you'd gotten to dinner, his phone rang. He pulled it out, checked the caller I.D. and slid it back into his pocket.
"Baby, answer it," you lifted your chin, gesturing for him to step away, "Go. Just see what they need, it could be important," he opened his mouth to offer some sort of rebuttal, "And before you ramble on about how important I am, I appreciate it and I appreciate you. But if you don't answer this call, I'm sleeping on the couch tonight."
He shook his head, standing from his chair before leaning down and tilting your chin up with his index finger, "You are the only person that can threaten me and get away with it."
You smirked, "I'll keep that in mind."
Chris walked away after pecking your lips, picking his phone up to his ear.
You watched him while he spoke, his fingers running through his hair a few times during the short conversation, his frustration apparent. It was obvious that he missed something important while he was treating you to dinner and that someone wasn't happy about it. You felt guilty about pulling him away.
He made his way back to the table after a few minutes, "I can read it all over your face, don't."
"What?" You furrowed your brow as he sat down.
"Y/N, you're starting to feel guilty. I can read it all over your face. It's fine. They can handle this without me."
"It doesn't seem like it..."
He shrugged, "But they can. So quit worrying and drink up. We're here to have a good time," he lifted his hand to signal the waitress.
"Just get the check," you shrugged.
His eyebrow cocked, "Already?" You wanted to roll your eyes like you hadn't finished your meal 2 hours ago and were both still working on the same glass of alcohol.
You smirked as the waitress walked over, running your foot up his leg and stopping at his inner thigh, "Already."
He shifted in his chair, clearing his throat, "Yeah, okay. Check. Please."
"Right away, sir."
You looked up at the waitress when she lingered for a second too long, batting her eyelashes at Chris. Desperate whore. She opened her mouth to say something else, but you cut her off. You reached over and placed your left hand over his, your shiny new engagement ring gleaming under the can lights, "Faster, thank you," you locked your eyes on hers, the corners of your mouth twitching when her eyes flickered to your ring and then back to you.
"Yes, sorry."
Chris chuckled when she scurried away, then shook his head and pulled out his wallet, "You know what," he licked his thumb, pulling out $500 and dropping it onto the table, "Let's get out of here." He extended his hand, pulling you out of your chair and into his chest, his other hand cupping your ass, "jealous?"
You gripped his jaw, stretching up onto your tiptoes. Even in heels, you weren't close to being eye-level with him, "Sei mio." (you're mine.) you growled, nipping at his bottom lip.
His eyes darkened, his lips crushing down onto yours, "You have no idea."
You knew from the look in his eyes and the way he reacted to your touch, exactly where this night was going. There was no denying the incredible sexual tension that's been building between the two of you. He told you in the beginning that he wanted to take things slow and give you space to acclimate, but holy shit you were going to explode if tonight didn't end the way your body was begging it to.
He led you outside, handing the valet his ticket. You stood in front of him, your head leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. He tightened his grip, leaning in so his nose brushed against your ear, "When we get home–" his right hand slid from your waist to your hip bone, gripping softly, "–you're gonna come all over my tongue as I devour that sweet pussy and then I'm gonna fuck you until your legs give out, capito?" (understand?)
You let out a small gasp, your eyes flickering to the other valet driver directly to your left, hoping he couldn't hear the things Chris whispered in your ear.
His grip tightened on your hip, "Capito?" clearly someone didn't give a fuck whether they were heard or not.
"Capito," you shuddered.
He nuzzled his nose against the base of your neck, inhaling softly, "Good girl."
You thanked God that his arm was secured around your waist because holy shit, your knees were wobbling. It felt like your whole body was shaking with anticipation, you hoped Chris couldn't feel the effect that he had on you. Although it didn't necessarily seem like a bad thing for your husband to know just how much he turned you on with only a few words, you had a feeling that at some point in the future, Chris would use that against you in the best way possible.
Once his Bentley pulled up in front of the two of you, he side-stepped around you, making his way towards the passenger door to pull it open. You climbed in, wringing your hands together as you pictured what your night had in store.
He buckled in before turning to look at you, "Ready?"
"Ready," you nodded, smiling to yourself.
The two of you sat in a comfortable silence on the way home, excitement and anticipation electrifying the air around you. Chris stole a few glances, smirking slightly when you'd meet his gaze and bite your bottom lip or shake your head a little. He kept his hand on your upper thigh, using his thumb to stroke against your bare skin, teasing you almost the entire drive home.
When you pulled into your neighborhood, you glanced over at Chris for a second. He kept his eyes on the road, but you knew he was aware you were looking at him. He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, a small smile on his lips. Your eyes raked over his features, starting with his deep, brunette hair, styled almost perfectly. His fingers ran through his hair entirely too often for it to ever be perfectly styled, but it was perfectly disheveled. Just the way you liked it. His beard was perfectly trimmed and lined up and he always smelled like his favorite YSL cologne. Sandalwood and citrus.
The navy blue dress shirt he wore had a few buttons undone, exposing a few tattoos on his chest. That by itself did something to you, stirring something deep in your belly, making you weak in the knees. Something about everyone else getting a sneak peek while you got the real thing made you feral. No one else woke up to him at their side in the morning. No one else saw him the way that you did. Only you felt the soft, gentle touch that those bloodied knuckles were capable of and it made you swoon. More than you'd like to admit. You weren't sure if the feelings you were developing for Chris were reciprocated, but with every day that passed, you knew you were falling in love with him. And that terrified you for more than one reason.
You continued your once over as Chris pulled into the long driveway, your bottom lip pulling in between your teeth when you took in his arms. His sleeves were cuffed just below his elbows, exposing a couple more tattoos on his forearms. You watched as his arm lifted from your thigh, his muscles bulging against the fabric of his shirt as his thumb traced across his bottom lip. You wanted him. Bad. And he knew it.
He pulled into the garage, smirking when he looked over at you. You were practically drooling, of course, he was amused.
You went to open the door, but Chris reached over you, yanking it shut and clicking his tongue, "Non mi insulti." (do not insult me.)
Folding your hands in your lap, you smiled when he climbed out and walked around the hood of his Bentley, pulling the door open and extending his hand to you, "grazie," you winked, keeping your hand locked in his as you walked into your home.
Neither of you said a word as he led you up the stairs and down the hall to your now shared bedroom. He nudged the door open, guiding you towards the bed. Standing at the side of the bed, one of his hands rested on the small of your back, the other reached up to cup the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his. You tasted whiskey as his tongue parted your lips, meeting yours in the middle. You used your index fingers to loop through his belt buckles, pulling him closer to you. The hand cupping your neck slid down, his index finger trailing down in between your breasts, stopping at the bow that cinched your dress together in the front. He broke the kiss, pinching the fabric between his finger and thumb, pulling softly and unraveling the tie, his eyes locked onto yours.
Your dress fell open, exposing your breasts, causing Chris to groan quietly, "you are so fucking beautiful, Y/N," the low growl in his voice certainly didn't help with the arousal pooling between your legs, "so fucking beautiful and mine."
Just those words made you weak in the freakin' knees. Chris being so possessive brought out something primal in you. The want in his eyes– not the want– the need, was all that you needed to confirm just how you felt about him.
"All yours," you whispered breathlessly, rolling your shoulders slightly so the green dress slid off of your arms, gathering at your feet.
He grabbed your hands, pulling your left one to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on your palm. His hands then lowered to your hips, pushing you back gently and guiding you to the bed. Chris kneeled between your legs, licking his lips before turning his attention to your boots. Gently, his fingers found the zipper and pulled, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. He pulled the boot off, setting it off to the side before making quick work of the other one. Starting at the ankle on your left leg, he left a chain of kisses all the way up to your inner thigh, "Do you remember what I told you?" he mumbled against your skin.
You let out a shaky breath, nodding your head, "Yes." Your voice barely registered above a whisper. You gasped softly when he placed a kiss on the mound of your pussy, shivering when you felt his warm breath against your sensitive skin.
"Mia figa," (my pussy) he mumbled, his large hands gripping the insides of your thighs.
Once again his possessive nature sent a flutter of butterflies through your stomach.
He used his thumbs, gently parting your slit before nipping at your clit, your hips bucking in response. You gripped the comforter underneath you, a loud moan escaping your lips when his head dove in between your thighs. His lips secured around your clit, sucking hard, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. You threw yourself back against the bed, your back arching as you saw stars.
"God, Chris, oh god," you moaned, your thighs shaking around his head as he held you close. You were a mess, unraveling in the best way. If it was up for debate before, it certainly wasn't now. You were his. In every way, shape, or form. His.
Your hands weaved through his hair, pulling him closer as the pressure built in your core, the quick approach of your climax taking you by surprise. Your breaths started coming out uneven, your toes curling. He could sense how close you were, tightening his grip on your legs as you shook under his tongue.
Feeling the coil inside about to snap, you gripped the comforter again, a moan building in your chest, "Fuck, Chris, I'm gonna come, right there, yes!" Your back arched off of the bed as you came, your body trembling as pleasure swept through your body. Chris kept going, lapping at your core for a few more seconds before he pulled away, wiping his mouth on the inside of your thigh. Your body collapsed against the bed, chest heaving as you came back down to earth, "Jesus Christ," you laughed.
You looked up at Chris, his beard glistening as he unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to the side. He smirked, "I don't think he could make you come like that, cara."
You smiled at his cockiness. This man knew he was good and wasn't afraid to show it.
He kicked off his shoes, before sliding his pants and boxers off, his cock springing free. You propped yourself up on your elbows and licked your lips, your eyes flickering down from his gaze, "Chris.."
"Nervous?"
You shook your head and met his eyes again, "No. Get over here and fuck me."
He flashed a grin, shaking his head before strutting over to you, his arms caging you in on either side of your head, "How long have you wanted this, Y/N?"
You inhaled a shaky breath, "Too long," you replied honestly, meeting his gaze. Truth be told, you would've made sure this happened a few weeks ago if the mafia life hadn't gotten in the way. You've ached for Chris for the longest time now, in more than one sense. With everything going on, he's been absent physically and mentally and this was the reconnection you were craving.
You gripped the back of his neck, pulling his lips to yours as he leaned and held his weight on his left arm, fisting his cock with his right hand and running the tip down your slit. You gasped as he grazed your sensitive clit, "Please, Chris," you begged, desperately needing him to fill you up.
He was so goddamn cocky and you begging did nothing to help that. You were convinced the smirk on his lips was going to be permanently etched on his face after tonight.
He lined himself up with your entrance, leaning down to kiss your lips, "Relax, cara." He kissed your cheek, your jawline, then stopped to nibble on the pulse point on your neck. He eased into you, both of you letting out a guttural moan as he bottomed out, "Are you okay?" he rasped.
Your thumb grazed his cheekbone before you answered, "Perfect."
He slid out as you drew in a breath, letting out a strangled moan when he slammed back into you, pleasure causing your toes to curl while your back arched, "Fuck, cara, you're so tight," he choked out, nipping at your collarbone gently while his pace increased. You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer to you, his deep moans putting you closer and closer to the edge.
You let out a small whimper when he pulled out, looking up at him as he slid an arm around your waist, scooting you back to the middle of the bed. He climbed on to join you, hitching your legs over his shoulders before thrusting back into you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his hips pounded into you, hitting deeper and deeper with each thrust. You clawed at the comforter as Chris picked up the pace, a mixture of skin hitting skin, panting breaths, and deep moans filling the room.
Being with him so intimately was everything you'd ever imagined and more. His body fits against yours perfectly, your bodies moving in unison. Despite never being together physically before, it was like your bodies knew each other in another life. Chris was the last piece of the puzzle you'd been searching for.
Chris looked down at you, his eyes filled with lust, watching you writhe underneath of him. He shook his head, his pace increasing, "Fuck, I'm not gonna last much longer," he grunted out another moan, cursing under his breath.
You gripped the back of his neck, your fingernails digging into his skin, "Fuck me, Chris. Harder."
"Jesus," he muttered, but he did what you asked, "Voglio vederti toccare te stesso, I wanna see you touch yourself, Y/N. Come for me," he whispered, a shiver running down your spine as his breath hit your bare neck.
You lowered your hand, middle finger drawing circles on your already sensitive clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You felt the tension building in your core as Chris's thrusts became staggered, chasing his own release. Throwing your head back, Chris shifted his weight, reaching down and gripping your chin. He tilted your chin slightly, making you look at him, "Guardami quando vieni qui," (look at me when you come)
Normally, right now would've been a good time to remind him that you didn't speak Italian, but from context, you knew exactly what he was saying. You looked into his cerulean eyes, trying your best to keep eye contact, the pleasure surging through your body almost making it too much.
He adjusted himself slightly, sending both of you over the edge as he buried himself deeper inside of you. Your second orgasm of the night exploded through your body, Chris mumbling a string of obscenities as he finished inside of you, his movements becoming less and less rhythmic.
You panted, catching your breath as you smiled up at him, his lips puffy and pink from being kissed, sweat beading along his hairline, "God, could you be any fucking hotter?"
He chuckled, slowly pulling out of you before lowering himself to press a kiss against your lips, "I could ask you the same, cara. Stay put, I'll be right back."
You watched him as he climbed off of the bed, disappearing into the bathroom for a second. You heard the sink run for a second and the sound of the closet door being opened and shut before he reappeared. He ran the warm rag between your legs, cleaning you up, chuckling when your hips involuntarily bucked at the sensation. You smiled seeing the sweats and old t-shirt sitting on the bed next to you.
Deciding against it, you scooted yourself back, crawling under the comforter and jerking your chin for him to join you. He smiled, climbing into bed next to you, wrapping his arm around your hips, and pulling you closer.
You stared into his eyes for a second, unsure of exactly what you wanted to say or what exactly you were feeling. You knew you were in love with Chris, you knew it with every fiber of your being, you were in love and you wanted so badly to tell him. The thought of him not feeling the same was holding you back. After all, this was an arranged marriage. He wasn't obligated to reciprocate any feelings that you had towards him. For all you knew, you were just a warm body to help pass on his family name.
Chris reached up, stroking your cheek, "What's on your mind, amore?" (love)
You inhaled a sharp breath, willing yourself not to read into it. It was just another pet name. It didn't mean anything.
The left side of his mouth twitched up into your favorite crooked smile, slowly being joined by the other as he continued to stroke your cheek, "Assecondami." (humor me) he breathed out, leaning towards you slightly to press a kiss to your nose.
You closed your eyes, savoring the simple, yet intimate gesture, "Chris..."
"Guardami, Y/N," (look at me)
Meeting his eyes once again, you swallowed the lump in your throat, exhaling a shaky breath.
"Y/N, what's wrong?"
You shook your head, "No, nothing," you raised your hand, running it through his brown locks a couple of times, smiling when his eyes shut momentarily, "I promise you, nothing is wrong. Everything is... beyond perfect. I can't even put it into words."
That wasn't necessarily true. There were 3 words that could spell it out pretty fucking easily if you would just say them.
"Provarci, per me," he coaxed, his fingers tracing up and down your spine.
You rolled your eyes playfully, "I got the last two..."
"Try, for me," he chuckled, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger, "Put it into words." He seemed almost anxious like he knew what you wanted to say. Anxious for you to spit it out.
Taking a deep breath, you chuckled a little, "God, what do you do to me?" Your stomach was a mess of butterflies, your hands trembling from the confession sitting on the tip of your tongue. Just say it. Don't be a little bitch, say it. You took yet another deep breath, "Chris... I'm– I think I'm in love with you."
You wanted so badly to close your eyes, but you were glad you didn't because you would've missed the grin that spread across Chris's face, his eyes lighting up, "Really?" he asked simply, his thumb moving up to stroke your bottom lip. You nodded, his grin melting into a soft, loving smile, "Cara.."
Before he could say anything else, the front door swung open with force, someone bellowing Chris's name up the stairs. Your brows furrowed in confusion, your heart pounding against your ribs.
"Chris! We need to fucking talk! Where are you?!" Someone shouted, the front door slamming shut.
Soft, nose-kiss-Chris was gone, his eyes darkened as his jaw went rigid and Mafia Chris came out, "Stay here," he ground out, pushing himself off of the bed and throwing on the sweats he'd laid out for you. He bent down to grab the Glock secured in his nightstand, tucking it into the waistband of the pants and he was out the door, slamming it shut behind him.
You scrambled from the bed, obviously not listening to him, you wanted to know what was going on. You didn't have any underwear handy, so you grabbed his dress shirt and threw it on, buttoning it up and rolling the sleeves down. If you weren't so nervous about what was happening, you would be a little more thrilled about wearing this navy shirt that smelled just like him.
Tip-toeing over to the door, you pulled it open, the voices carrying up the stairs.
"We fucking needed you tonight, Chris and you weren't fucking there!" The man shouted, something glass shattering against the floor.
"Then maybe I need to re-evaluate who the fuck I'm sending out because anyone competent shouldn't need me there to fucking babysit," Chris snapped back.
You felt a twinge of guilt in your chest, this was kind of your fault for acting like a brat earlier. Making your way down the hallway to the stairs, you listened to them scream at each other, Chris very quickly losing his patience for whoever this man was.
You got to the stairs, slowly making your way down, the two of them coming into view as they stood in the foyer. If you were in anyone else's home, you might be scared to witness whatever altercation was happening downstairs, but you knew Chris wouldn't let anything happen to you.
"We fucking needed you," the man shouted again.
Chris's chest puffed out a little and you wanted to roll your eyes, what a caveman. But clearly, right now wasn't the time.
Your eyes flickered to the door, which was flung open, wood splintered from where Tony kicked in the lock. This wasn't going to end well for him.
"I was busy. And you didn't need me, Tony. This was a simple run. A fucking chimpanzee could've done it." You could tell from his posture that he was done. You couldn't place Tony, but assumed he was new because no one in their right mind would talk to Chris like this if they'd been around for a while.
Tony scoffed, "Yeah, busy."
"I suggest you tread lightly, fratello," Chris spat, his hands clenched into fists at his side.
His tone made you tiptoe down a couple of more stairs.
Tony scoffed again, "So you go off and marry Y/N, and then the rest of us are left doing your dirty shit, cleaning up your messes, and–"
Chris rushed at Tony, his forearm pressing against his neck as he pinned him against the wall, Tony's head making a small dent in the drywall, "Keep her fucking name out of your mouth," Chris growled, putting more pressure on his adam's apple as Tony gasped for air.
You. Are. Fucked. And fucking in love. You should be scared, not biting your lip and getting turned on by Chris's possessiveness over you. Yet... here you were. Ready to get Chris back in bed with you while he threatened the life of some man for speaking your name.
Tony clawed at Chris's arm, begging for him to relieve the pressure. You could tell he let up a little bit when Tony gasped, but he kept him pinned to the wall, "I suggest you get the fuck out of my house and thank your fucking lucky stars I didn't put a bullet in between your eyes for speaking about me and my wife like you did. Not to mention barging in uninvited, breaking my fucking door, and pulling me away from my woman, you piece of shit. You're lucky I owe your father money."
Tony nodded, his eyes wide at Chris's threat, "I'll go," he choked out, "I'm sorry, boss."
Chris stepped away, "Sparisci dalla mia vista," (get out of my sight)
Tony scrambled out of the front door, pulling it shut behind him as he gasped for breath.
Your husband stood in the foyer, his back to you as his hand yanked through his hair, mumbling under his breath. He turned, stopping suddenly when he saw you standing on the stairs in his shirt, "I thought I told you to stay put," he deadpans.
You shrugged, "This seemed more interesting."
His eyebrow cocked at the mischievous grin on your lips, "Was it?"
"Mmm," you hummed in response as he made his way up the stairs. Even at the stair below you, he towered over you. You met his eyes, "It was." You answered, raking your fingernails down his bare chest, "I'm not that good of a listener."
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "I've noticed," he teased, "You're gonna give me a run for my money, amore."
You smiled, "Well, a little birdie told me you have plenty of it, so..." you trailed off, winking.
His left hand rose to your cheek, cupping softly, "I love you, too, Y/N."
Your eyes widened, a grin spreading across your lips, "You do?"
"Sarei stupido a non." (i'd be stupid not to)
Flinging your arms around his shoulders, you pulled him in, crushing your lips to his. He freaking loved you. On the surface, Chris didn't seem like a man of many words... or emotions. Your chest swelled with pride knowing that you got to see the most vulnerable side of him. A side that he hid from everyone else. You brought that out of him.
One hand reached around, cupping your ass, the other settling onto the small of your back, "Now... before I take you back upstairs, I need you to understand that when I tell you to stay put, you stay put, Y/N. I will never let anyone or anything hurt you, but you have to listen to me in a situation like this," he kissed your nose, before meeting your eyes again.
You wanted to make a joke about him punishing you, but now didn't really seem like the best time. He wasn't letting this go, "Okay, I'm sorry. I promise."
"Good."
Before you could say anything else, he scooped you up and tossed you over his shoulder. You squealed, giggling as he walked you up the stairs, swatting at your ass, "Now, I'll show you what happens when you don't listen."
You laughed, "I don't think that's a good way to put it, it might just make my selective hearing worse."
He swatted your ass against, chuckling, "We'll see about that, amore mio." (my love)
You swooned, smiling as he walked you to the bedroom, gently setting you down on the floor. My love. He loves you. You framed his face with your hands, pulling him in for a kiss, "Ti amo, Chris."
He smiled again, "Ti amo, Y/N."
Those words coming out of his mouth made you melt and you knew, just like your mamma had said, that you and Chris would live very happily in love.