Deadly Nightshade - larry stylinson one shot [completed] (bottom!louis)

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Deadly Nightshade
dedicated to platonicstylinson love u bby

Disclaimer. I do not own one direction or anything with a brand name. This is a fan fiction and purely for entertainment.

Twitter: fruitoflouis

DO NOT STEAL MY STORIES/WORKS. ©larryent

WARNINGS:
> murder in detail
> smut
> crossdresser!Louis bottom!Louis
> that seems like it 🤔

SUMMARY:
The one where Harry is the top drug lord in the Northern hemisphere but he isn't alone, he's got Louis, his little Deadly Nightshade.

INSPIRED BY & WILL INCLUDE LYRICS FROM:
• Lana Del Rey — Ultraviolence
• Lana Del Rey — Off to the Races
• Lana Del Rey — Black Beauty
• Lana Del Rey — Florida Kilos

Harry didn't see anything wrong with a little revenge every now and then. In fact, he strongly supported it and in his type of business, getting revenge was a regular task that he had no fear of completing. When he walked in on his husband slicing a man's throat and he wasn't positive if it was anything but boredom that pushed Louis to murder yet another one of their butlers.

"Nightshade," Harry drawls, leaning against the door frame. "We just changed the carpet."

Louis' eyes fall onto his husband, the bright blue framed by a thick coat of mascara. The corner of his lip quirks up and his tongue pokes out. "Oops."

"That was the third one this month, I think you need a hobby," Harry suggests and observes the lifeless body by Louis' heels and purses his lips. The man's name was Martin, a middle eastern twenty-something-year-old with no wife, and no kids.

A few months ago, when Louis began ruthlessly murdering all of their maids, cooks, and butlers, Harry took it upon himself to only hire people who had no family, since then if they went missing (or when they went 'missing') no one could report it. Therefore, Harry doesn't need to dash out thousands of dollars to keep someone's lips shut.

"This is my hobby," Louis smirks, trailing the bloody knife over his arm, and drawing a tiny heart. "Plus, he pissed me off."

"What did he do?" Harry immediately asks.

The blue-eyed man lowers his gaze to the body and narrows it into a glare. "Kept on staring at my husband." He swings back his foot and kicks the man's side. "Asshole."

Harry only shakes his head with a small sigh leaving his lips. "Let's get you cleaned up." He steps further into the guest room and takes Louis' hand.

Once Harry brings them both to their bathroom, he strips his husband of his bloody blue velvet dress and white panties. He slides the fabric down Louis' body, kissing along the man's shoulders as he goes. Then, Harry switches on the bath, making sure the water is warm enough and plugs the tub.

Harry drags Louis over to the large mirror and wraps his arms around the latter's curvy waist. "You're a true beauty, my Deadly Nightshade." He presses his lips to Louis' ear, "just as beautiful as when I first met you."

All those years ago, Louis was nothing but a stripper in one of the top clubs in the city. He was at the ripe age of twenty-one, with nothing but a passion for filthily dancing in front of grown men with money to toss.

Only the wealthiest men visited the club, The Lucky Lovers it was called. Not only dancers could keep them satisfied and it became a regular thing for Louis to have a man snort cocaine from the skin of his thigh or back. Turns out, Louis' boss was getting the drugs straight from the biggest drug lord in the content. And his boss was walking on thin ice the moment he made a deal with the devil.

And so when Louis' boss failed to make several payments on time, a special visit by the drug lord himself was bound to happen.

Harry walked into the strip club on a late Thursday night, a cigarette between his lips with over twelve armed men by his sides. The music booming from the speakers stopped after the first bullet that was fired, dancers and rich men scattering around the club for safety.

Luckily for Louis, he was doing his set at that moment and froze right in his place in the spotlight. His lips parted and hands gripped the pole tighter when Harry walked up to him.

"Where's your boss?"

Harry's voice was so deep and raspy that night, and his eyes were a calm green even with the bullet going off right by his side.

"In the back." Louis had answered, feeling vulnerable in his skimpy red lace panties.

That was when Harry demanded Louis bring him to his boss. And so, Louis had hopped off the stage and stumbled in his high heels down the hallway to his boss's office.

The rest was history.

Louis became a member of Harry's mafia three years after that night at the club. And he and Harry also got married that day, so Louis became the second ruler of Ultraviolence. Of course, after excessive training and tests of loyalty and honesty.

All along, the road of their relationship was a ticking bomb for Louis' sanity. Seeing dead bodies almost every day, participating in tortures, and being deprived of any contact with the outside world only sped up the disintegration of Louis' mind.

That was how he turned into the monster he was today. A brutal man married to a heartless man who has more power in his hand than the government of any country in the Northern hemisphere. After all, Harry has hinted that most of the money in North America is 'dirty drug money'. He also stated on multiple occasions that the government will do anything to keep Ultraviolence happy.

"I love you, Nightshade." Harry rasps, "and I'm going to love you for every day of our lives."

Harry's breath tickles his neck and Louis giggles into his hand, about to speak but is cut off by a buzzing next to the door.

"Sir, Malik of the Cruelties is here."

"I'll be down in a moment," Harry calls out. He drops his chin on the top of Louis' head and smiles at their reflection. "I forgot we had reservations with Zayn. How about you clean up and meet us downstairs, hm?"

"Okay." Louis nods, letting his husband lead him to the bath that was just full enough.

"Wear that dress we got yesterday. The one with the slit right here." Harry brushes his fingers over Louis' right thigh. "Don't forget those heels I love too."