TW: mention of needles, and blood
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Chapter song:
THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND by Bad Omens
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I stare down at the iPad in front of me, attempting to study the guys' schedules while I wait for Harry. The shop closed nearly an hour ago, but Harry told me he needed to finish up some drawings before we could go home. I'm trying to be productive, but every time I try to do anything, my mind drifts elsewhere.
I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as I sigh heavily.
My brain has basically been mush the last couple of weeks, ever since Harry suggested Charles had been drugging Morgan. I haven't seen her since that night, the last two times I've gone to a club I've been able to avoid interacting with Charles afterwards, but she has been consuming my thoughts since then.
Her and Catarina.
I've been trying to find a way to contact Catarina. I looked her up on social media, though she seems to have no internet presence whatsoever. I even went to The Red Room by myself one night to see if she was there, but I had no such luck. Harry wasn't too happy when he found out I'd gone without him, either.
This guilt, though, is enough to make me go insane.
Harry and I can't be certain that any of those girls are being drugged, or held against their will, but the strange expression on Morgan's face haunts me. Drugs or not, something was definitely off that night.
I feel someone standing behind me as I sit at the front desk, and before I can turn around, two arms wrap around my waist, causing me to jump. The familiar scent of smoky musk floods my senses, and my thoughts are instantly muted when I feel the warmth of Harry's chest pressed against my back.
"Hi," I giggle, leaning my head back against his shoulder to look up at him.
His eyes meet mine, and that smile that I love grows across his face, his perfect dimples making an appearance. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. "Hi," he whispers, pulling away to lean on the desk next to me. "What are you doing?"
"Just trying to get an idea of what the rest of this week's schedule looks like," I sigh, resting my chin in my palm as I glance back down at the iPad. "I'm having a hard time focusing."
Harry pulls his lips to the side, his eyes scanning my face before he leans over to click off the screen. My brows furrow as I look up at him in confusion.
"Harry, what-"
"Do you want to do something fun?" He cuts me off, a mischievous smirk forming on his lips.
I cock my brow, tilting my head. "Like what?"
"Tattoo me," he says nonchalantly, making my eyes widen.
Tattoo him? I've never tattooed anyone. Why on earth would he want me to put something so permanent on his skin?
It would look horrendous.
"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, an exasperated chuckle leaving me. "Are you insane?"
He pulls his lip ring between his teeth, shrugging. "Maybe," he chuckles, sending me wink. "But I'm insane for you."
My cheeks flush, and I roll my eyes at him as I shove his shoulder playfully. "Oh, stop," I laugh.
"We're doing it," he says, standing up straight before he begins to walk towards the back room. "Let me just draw something up."
I sit frozen in my seat, my lips parted and eyes wide as my nerves sky rocket. I've always wondered what it was like to tattoo someone, but I never imagined I would ever get the chance to do it. Now that it's here, I'm actually kind of freaking out.
Since I started working here, I've been captivated by all of the talent surrounding me, but especially by Harry's work. I've never met anyone as talented as he is, and he knows it, too. I mean, he's wearing a shirt with his own artwork embroidered on the back, which he did himself.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't incredibly intimidated by this idea.
After a few minutes of picking anxiously at my cuticles, Harry reemerges from the back room with a piece of graph paper in his hand. He holds the drawing up to me, my brows furrowing as I take it from him and examine it.
I attempt to piece together what on earth the arrows could mean, but when I can't figure it out, I look up at him with pursed lips.
"Why the arrows?" I wonder.
He suddenly averts his gaze down to the paper in my hand, and I notice his cheeks turning a light shade of pink before he clears his throat. "It's to symbolize star-crossed lovers," he mutters, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear.
"Why?" I ask confusedly.
Star-crossed lovers are two people whose love is doomed by the stars, and can't be together. He's written our initials, which makes me think that he believes we are star-crossed. The idea that he could possibly feel that way makes my heart break a little.
"O- Our relationship," he begins, running his fingers through his hair. "Whatever we are, we didn't begin in the best way. I don't know what that says about where we're supposed to end up, but part of me worries that it can't be good."
My bottom lip sticks out in a pout as my eyes scan his face, his amused smirk now replaced by a frown. I know he's uncomfortable talking about his feelings, so this can't be easy for him, but it also hurts that he truly feels this way.
"I've never thought of us as star-crossed lovers, Harry," I shake my head. "How we started out doesn't matter, what matters is where we are now, and where we're going to go. Our beginning doesn't say anything about our end."
He nods his head, staying quiet for a moment as my words sink in. "The thing is, we don't know what the future holds for us," he sighs, looking back at me. "But, no matter what happens, I'm so fucking grateful for the every moment I've been able to share with you. I-"
His words seem to get caught in his throat as his eyes flick back and forth between mine. I hold my breath as I wait for him to continue, my chest tightening in anticipation.
Please say it.
"I want to have a piece of our story on me forever," he finally says, lifting his hand to place it softly against my cheek.
My stomach drops slightly, my hope to hear those three words dashed. Still though, a smile grows on my lips as I lean into his hand, his thumb stroking my cheek.
It's okay if he doesn't love me, at least we're together.
"Okay," I nod. "Okay, let's do it."
Harry's expression brightens, his grin growing across his cheeks. His evident excitement causes my stomach to flutter, and he leans forward to scoop me up in his arms, making me squeal. My arms find their way around his neck, my legs around his waist, before he nudges his nose gently against mine.
"You're going to love this," he assures me before placing a quick kiss on my lips, and setting me back on my feet. "I'm going to get everything set up for you!"
I watch intently as he jogs over to his station and begins setting up his needles and machines. I've never seen him this excited before, and I can't help but giggle as he sings quietly to himself.
"Can you put some music on?" He asks, keeping his focus on threading the needle through the metal tube that he's connected to his machine.
I hum, nodding my head as I pull out my phone to connect it to the bluetooth speakers. "What do you want to listen to?"
"Bad Omens?" He suggests, stealing a glance at me.
I pull up Spotify, and type the band's name into the search bar before hitting shuffle, music now filling the empty shop. I never used to listen to Bad Omens, but ever since Harry introduced me to them a few weeks ago, I've become completely hooked.
"You ready?" He asks, raising his eyebrows at me.
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, my nerves returning as I stare at everything on his tray. It's starting to feel very real now, and the fact that I'm about to drill a needle into someone's skin is actually pretty terrifying.
Finally, I sigh heavily, nodding my head.
"Where do you want to put it?" I ask as I step hesitantly up to the massage table, my fingers tracing along the black drape sheet.
Without a word, Harry begins to unbutton his tight, black jeans before sliding them down his legs. My eyes widen as he leans against the massage table to slip his feet from the legs of his pants, and throws them to the side of the room. He turns to look at me, sending me a smirk as he points to a bare spot on his thigh.
"Right here," he states.
I swallow harshly, my cheeks flushing as my eyes trail up his tattooed legs. I try desperately to avoid stopping at his gray briefs as heat rushes to the apex of my thighs.
"My eyes are up here, princess," he teases, lifting his shirt slightly to adjust the band of his underwear, clearly trying to entice me further. The action causes my breath to hitch, my cheeks burning. "Come here, baby."
I roll my lips into my mouth as my embarrassed gaze meets his amused one, and he holds his hand out for me to take. I roll my eyes before walking towards him as he sits on the edge of the table, pulling me into him so I'm standing between his legs.
He brings out his tongue to wet his lips as he stares at me, the green in his irises darkening. I feel my breath get caught in my throat when he brings his hand up to cup my chin.
"You're so beautiful when you blush for me." He pulls my face towards his until our lips are mere centimeters apart, our heavy breathing drowning out the loud music. "So fucking perfect."
My eyes flutter shut when he presses his lips to mine, his tongue running along my bottom lip. I whimper softly when his teeth replace the gentle caress of his tongue, nipping at my delicate skin. Before I can melt into the kiss, he pulls away, though the hunger in his dark eyes remains.
"Come on," he rasps. His hand slides down to grab my ass roughly, making me gasp. "Let's get me tattooed."
My bottom lip juts out in a pout, annoyed by his teasing, and he pulls his lip ring between his teeth, biting back a laugh at my flustered reaction.
Asshole.
"Fine," I huff. "What do I need to do?"
Harry takes a few minutes to cleanse the empty space on his thigh before shaving it, and showing me how to place the stencil of the arrows properly. After a few messy attempts, I'm finally able to fit it perfectly in the small spot, and I smile proudly as I stare at my work.
He adjusts his position on the massage table, leaning back on his hands as he fixes his eyes on me. "Come sit down in front of me," he says, nodding towards the chair at his station. I swallow harshly before doing as he says, and looking up at him to wait for his next instruction. "Now put your gloves on. I grabbed some smalls for you."
A small smile appears on my lips as I slide the black, latex gloves over my hands. It's such a simple gesture, yet the thoughtfulness causes my heart to race.
God, what is he doing to me?
"Pick up the machine; get used to the weight of it."
I reach across the wrapped, silver tray, carefully picking up the machine and situating it in my hands. I hold these things every day, whenever I have to take them apart to flip their stations, but it's different when I'm about to use it on someone.
The metal tube is heavy, the ridges around it creating the perfect grip for my fingers. The machine he picked out for me is hot pink, my favorite one of his, and I inspect the black clip cord to ensure it's attached properly to the base. The needle is small, with only three prongs to create a crisp, thin line. Though, with the multiple points, it won't be considered a fine line tattoo, which I'm grateful for.
Louis has told me on several occasions how difficult a single-needle tattoo is, and I don't need any other factors making this harder than it already is.
"I'm going to turn on the power supply," he informs me, reaching forward to flip the switch on the black box at the end of the clip cord. Instantly, the machine starts vibrating in my hands, my eyes widening when I nearly drop it. Harry twists the knob, adjusting the speed of the needle. "That feel alright?"
He looks at me with raised brows, waiting for a response, and I nod my head hesitantly. He gives me an encouraging smile before gesturing to the tray with his chin. "Dip the needle into the ink cap."
He's filled three small, clear caps with thick, black ink, the plastic bases stuck to the saran wrap with globs of petroleum jelly. I dip the buzzing needle into the ink, careful not to pick up too much of the dark pigment.
"Perfect," he assures me. I force a small smile, trying my hardest to keep my hand steady against my nerves, and the vibrating metal between my fingers. "Take it slowly, okay? You want to use gentle, but firm pressure, and do the best you can to follow the stencil."
I swallow thickly, my eyes fixed on the purple arrows staining his leg. "W- What if I mess up?" I choke out, adjusting nervously in the black, cushioned seat.
"Then it'll be even more unique," he whispers, his voice soft, and gentle. "Baby, you're going to be amazing. Let's just take a deep breath."
I look up at him, following along as he inhales deeply through his nose, holds it for a moment, and exhales heavily through his mouth. We do this a few times, the repetitive action soothing my shaking hands.
"Ready?" He asks me, his brows raised. Finally, I nod my head, pursing my lips. "Go for it, princess."
I clear my throat before staring back down at his leg, framing the stencil with my free hand to pull his skin taut. Slowly, I lower the machine until it meets his skin, pulling the first line. I watch as the ink bubbles along the thin mark, mixing with the small amount of blood seeping through the broken skin. My gaze flicks up to see him staring at the line with a neutral expression on his face.
"Does that hurt?" I wonder, furrowing my brows.
I've never seen someone so unfazed while getting a tattoo. I'm actually kind of impressed.
"Of course it hurts, it's a tattoo," he chuckles, making me roll my eyes. "It's fine. Keep going."
I do as he says, pulling line after line until the stencil is replaced with wobbly, black ink. The whole thing took about thirty minutes, and you can tell where I jumped from Harry gasping, acting like he was in pain just to scare me. Aside from that, the tattoo actually isn't too bad.
Not as bad as I thought it would look, at least.
Harry hops up from the table, walking towards the mirror to inspect my work. I chew nervously on my cheek as I wait for his reaction. Harry reassured me multiple times that he didn't expect a masterpiece, that he'd love it no matter what. I hope to god he meant that.
I would be mortified if he ended up hating it.
Finally, he turns around to face me, a wide grin spreading across his face. "It's beautiful, baby," he says, making his way back to me, and grabbing my cheeks in his hands to pull me into a kiss. The action catches me off guard, and I freeze for a moment before I finally kiss him back.
"You're sure you don't hate it?" I half-joke when he pulls away, sitting back down on the table.
"Are you kidding? I love it."
My cheeks flush as he stares at me in admiration, his eyes never leaving mine. I'm used to catching him looking at me, and it's an action I've grown to love, but this time feels different. I can't put my finger on it, but it causes my heart to swell, my whole body igniting under his gaze.
"Do you want to wrap it for me?" He asks, pulling my focus away from the heat flooding between my thighs.
I clear my throat, nodding my head before I grab the Tegaderm he set aside for me. As I'm laying the clear adhesive over the tattoo, my favorite Bad Omens song starts playing through the shop's speakers, THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND.
I made another mistake
Thought I could change
Thought I could make it out
I mouth along to the words as I smooth out the edges of the Tegaderm, being sure the tattoo is fully sealed.
Promises break
Need to hear you say
You're gonna keep it now
"You're incredible," Harry mutters, and I look up to find him staring at me again.
I roll my eyes, pulling my lips to the side to hold back my stupid smile. "Shut up," I mutter.
As I'm about to throw away the adhesive's wrapping, he grabs my arm to stop me, and when I meet his eyes again, they've grown dark, that familiar look of hunger taking over his face. It makes my heart race with anticipation.
I miss the way you say my name
The way you bend
The way you break
"Come here," he orders. His voice is rough and demanding, leaving no trace of his previously gentle tone. I drop the bundle of plastic on the floor before eagerly following his orders. When I'm standing in front of him, he places his hands on my hips, gripping them roughly. "Get on my lap."
I nod my head, wrapping my arms around his neck as he pulls me up to straddle him. He pushes my hips down firmly, my eyes widening when I feel how hard he is. A whimper escapes my lips as he lifts his hips slightly to meet mine, pressing himself against my core with a groan.
Your makeup running down your face
The way you touch
The way you taste
"Fuck, I love the sounds you make," he growls, removing one of his hands from my waist to grab my cheek, pulling me in to meet his lips.
The kiss is rough, and messy, his teeth clashing with mine as he slips his tongue past my lips. A groan echoes from his chest when my fingers lace in his hair, tugging at the long strands.
When the curtains call the time
Will we both go home alive?
His hands find their way to my ass, kneading it through the thin material of my skirt.
"Have I ever told you how much I love your ass?" He says between sloppy kisses. "Would fucking love to spread you open."
His words cause a moan to leave me as my arousal pools in my underwear, the noise making Harry chuckle against my mouth.
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" He hums, trailing his lips across my jaw until they hover right outside of my ear. "Want me to fuck your tight little ass, hm?"
It wasn't hard to realize
Love's the death of peace of mind
My breath shudders when he pulls my earlobe between his teeth before tracing it with his tongue. "Use your words, princess," he demands, lifting his hand to smack my ass.
I throw my head back at the sweet, stinging sensation. "Yes, Harry," I moan. "Fuck yes."
He hums against my skin in response as he moves his mouth to my neck, nipping at the skin sharply.
You're in the walls that I made
With crosses and frames
Hanging upside down
I grind against him as his lips suck harshly at my neck, causing my wetness to soak through my underwear, and onto his. He inhales sharply at the sensation, bucking his hips upward.
"Sit on my face," he chokes out, making me pull away to look at him with furrowed brows.
"Here? Right now?" I look around the shop, suddenly feeling self conscious.
He chuckles lowly, his hands sliding over my bare legs until they're tucked under my skirt, teasing the waistband of my underwear. "Yes, here. Right now," he hisses before tearing at my thin panties, making me gasp.
"Harry," I whine. "Stop ruining all of my underwear."
For granted, in vain
I took everything
I ever cared about
Ignoring my complaint, he lays back on the massage table, and begins pulling me up towards his face by my legs.
"Harry, we're at work," I argue, attempting to ignore the nervous excitement growing in my abdomen.
The last time Harry and I were at risk of getting caught, I'd had one of the best orgasms of my life. The thought of riding Harry's face in the middle of Blackhouse causes goosebumps to grow across my arms and legs, a new rush of heat flooding the space between my thighs. As my heart pounds against my ribcage, I shuffle on my knees until I'm almost positioned over Harry's face.
I miss the way you say my name
The way you bend
The way you break
"You're telling me-"
He places a wet kiss on my inner thigh.
"You don't want my tongue-"
He kisses the thigh opposite, making me bite down hard on my bottom lip to hold back my moan.
"Licking your wet pussy-"
His tongue peeks out, replacing his lips to caress my burning skin.
"Until you come all over it."
The moan I was holding back finally escapes me when he slips his hands under my thighs, pulling me up the last few inches until I'm hovering right over his face. His hot breath hits my core, causing exhilarated chills to run down my spine.
"Sit on my face, princess," he demands, holding eye contact with me as he brings his tongue out to lick a stripe right between my folds.
Your makeup running down your face
The way you fuck
The way you taste
The feeling of his tongue swiping over my sensitive clit nearly makes my legs give out, and I finally give in to my body's demands, lowering myself until I'm completely resting on his face.
Harry hums against me in approval, his hands gripping my thighs to keep them open as his tongue delves into my entrance. My eyes pinch shut at the sensation as I lace my fingers in his hair.
When the curtains call the time
Will we both go home alive?
It wasn't hard to realize
Love's the death of peace of mind
"Fuck, Harry," I whine, my hips impulsively grinding against his tongue as he laps up my arousal pooling over it.
"Say my name, baby," he says, the vibrations hitting my core adding to my euphoria. "Tell me who makes you come."
Love's the death of peace of mind
His lips attach to my clit, and he sucks harshly before bringing it between his teeth. I pinch my eyes shut, a whimper of pain and pleasure leaving me as he nibbles at the sensitive nub.
"You make me come, Harry," I breathe, my grip on his hair tightening as his teeth continue to graze along my delicate skin.
You come and go in waves
Leaving me in your wake
"That's right, princess," he groans, his large hands pulling me down farther onto his mouth. "You're all mine."
His low voice against me sends shockwaves of pleasure throughout my entire body, and I have to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from coming over his words alone. I feel my thighs begin to shake, my whole body tingling from the way his tongue flicks my clit before delving inside me repeatedly.
"I know you're close," he says, his movements picking up, making me squirm from the overstimulation. "Can taste it."
You come and go in waves
Swallowing everything
"Come for me," he demands as the music breaks down, my back arching from the heavy music pounding in my ears, and the way his tongue laps at my clit feverishly. "I want fucking all of you."
"Oh my fuck-" I cry out, my hips bucking forward as my body reacts to all that's happening around me.
Are you satisfied?
Love's the death of peace of mind
He grips my thighs tighter to keep me from moving, using his nose to massage my clit while his tongue swirls in and around my entrance. I feel the familiar knot of an orgasm building low in my abdomen, and it takes everything in me to keep from grinding roughly against his face to bring myself even closer.
When the curtains call the time?
Will we both go home alive?
It wasn't hard to realize
Love's the death of peace of mind
"Fuck, Harry I-" I attempt to choke out, but my ability to speak is stolen when my orgasm rips through me.
My thighs instinctively clench around his head, though he makes no efforts to move them as he moans into me, my arousal pooling into his mouth.
When the curtains call the time?
Will we both go home alive?
It wasn't hard to realize
Love's the death of peace of mind
My breath escapes me in choked sobs, my chest heaving as he continues to suck at my clit to increase the intensity of my euphoria. It feels as though my entire body has burst into flames, Harry consuming every ounce of me as I melt for him.
Consuming my entire being.
Love's the death of peace of mind
It's as if the world has shattered around me, leaving only Harry, and me behind. The movements of his tongue finally slow to a gentle caress as he sucks harshly one last time at my folds, collecting every last drop of my come, just like he wished.
I swallow harshly, my eyes fluttering open before I look down at him, his gaze fixated on my heated face. I feel my breath get caught in my throat from the way he looks at me, as if I was his last meal.
Love's the death of peace of mind
I lift myself off of him with shaky legs, collapsing on the massage table next to him as he turns to his side to face me. His lower face is glistening with my arousal, and I lean forward to press my lips against his, tasting myself on his tongue.
His aggressive demeanor has softened, and he places his hand on my cheek as our lips move together in perfect sync. It's slow, and sweet, and causes my heart to flutter. I don't understand how this man can suddenly be so gentle after devouring me on this table. It makes my head spin.
As my lips dance with his, I'm hit with my love for every part of him. The angry, the sad, the happy, the sensual...
I fucking love all of him.
I pull away, my eyes locking with his. The darkness in his irises has faded back to the beautiful emerald green, and he smiles at me proudly. I can tell my cheeks are still pink, and my breathing is ragged. He knows exactly what he does to me, and he revels in it.
I shake my head in exasperation before scooting into him, his arm wrapping around my back as he pulls me closer.
"You're going to be the death of me," I mumble into his shirt.