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callmelola111 · 11 months

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color me purple ♡ part one

✄ - - - - part 1 , part 2 , part 3 - - - - soundtrack - - - - ♡

synopsis: it’s summer and you’re back at camp stillwater. as a counselor you mean serious business and you’ll do whatever it takes for your cabin to come out on top. the only thing in the way of that; ellie williams and her crazy antics.

| 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 3.3k

| ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, some fluff + some angst (for now), marijuana use, pet names (doll, princess, hun), light sexual themes, swearing, mentions of blood (reader gets bloody nose), mentions of age (reader and ellie are both said to be 20 but feel free to change it in ur head lol)

a/n: feeling so summer lately i just had to write this. living vicariously through reader cause like why tf am i not having a summer camp gay awakening. this series is just 3 parts but it is sweet as pie so pls enjoy!!! i love you all dearly ♡~ lola

The blinding sun beamed down on your bare skin. Normally the sweltering heat would bother you more, but the excitement of your first day back at camp was more than enough to distract you from the outlandish temperatures. You barreled down the grassy hill, duffle bag in hand, revealing the large wooden arch that spelled out the words CAMP STILLWATER.

The grounds were bustling with counselors and caretakers preparing for the arrival of campers later that evening. Everyone was dressed in color coded garments that signaled what cabin group they belonged to. You were dressed in red, head of cabin 12. Your sheer, white ringer tee read “Staff” and was hemmed with strips of crimson. To match, a pair of red booty shorts with white stretching down the sides. They were just long enough to cover your plush cheeks until naturally riding up as you walked to reveal the crease where ass meets thigh. To top it off, knee high socks striped with the same exact red. You were fucking adorable.

Nature crunched under your sneakers as you practically skipped down the trail headlining it to your cabin. As you reached the steps a very familiar voice called out your name.

“Well, well, well, look who it is. Cabin neighbors, once again. Did ya miss me doll?”

“Ellie fucking Williams, don’t flatter yourself. I’ve been praying all week that I wouldn’t get stuck with your dumbass again. But, here we are.” You rolled your eyes in a dramatic fashion putting an emphasis on your obvious sarcasm. This would be your 3rd summer bunking next door to your biggest rival Ellie Williams.

Although you and Ellie weren’t truly enemies, she did get on your nerves, and you got on hers. This fed into a mutual sarcastic bit that you guys have continued to carry out for years. You’d think by 20 years old the two of you would’ve grown out of these childish antics, but it was secretly one of your favorite parts of the summer.

Ellie gave a half-assed chuckle, “you can never escape me.”

“Oh yes I can!” You whipped your head around, excusing yourself from the conversation and climbed up the weathered steps of your cabin. Ellie gawked as she watched you depart, your thighs giggling with each step. Her piercing green eyes always found their way to your body, but only when she thought you wouldn’t notice.

You entered the barren room and didn't even take the time to unpack before you started adorning the walls with themed decor and tying red ribbons in your hair. Cabin 12 always thrived with spirit when you were there. You took your role as camp counselor seriously and took the competitiveness even more seriously.

Camp Stillwater ran on a point system, and at the end of the summer the cabin with the most wins a trophy. The girls from your cabin were always finishing first in the tournament games, but when they didn’t, it was Ellie’s stupid blue campers who were swooping in to steal the victory. It drove you crazy. Last summer you came second to her and you were determined to never let it happen again. You began speaking to the empty room as if trying to somehow manifest these dreams into reality.

“This year cabin 12 will finish the summer with the most points.”

“Talking to yourself again?” You jumped at the sound of Ellie, not noticing that she had been lurking in the doorway. She was only there for a moment, but didn’t feel like announcing herself, too busy enjoying you running around like an excited puppy, spouting off about victory. Ellie had always admired your high spirits and go-getter attitude. A ray of light emitted from you constantly and she loved to bask in its glory. But, of course, she’d never let it be known.

“God Ellie you can’t just sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry princess but the warden wants everyone at the mess hall like now. Come on slacker!” You noticed the change of clothes on Ellie, she was now adorned in a T-shirt just like yours but with blue details rather than red. Her auburn hair was pulled into a messy half-up, half-down, she always wore it like that when it started getting hot.

“Shut up, I'm not a slacker!! I’m just busy going above and beyond for my campers.” you argued, a pout forming on your lips. Ellie always knew how to press your buttons.

“You really wanna win this year huh?” She moved into your space, tilting her head with a cocky smirk.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

“And you really think I’m gonna let that happen?” she teased.

“You’re so annoying Ellie. You can do whatever you want, but I will be winning” You jutted your head forward dramatically in an attempt at intimidation. Ellie rolled her eyes.

“Right… let’s just get going before we’re late and they don’t let you counsel at all” Ellie grabbed your hand and pulled, urging you to follow. Feeling her warm, calloused hand in yours, you almost didn’t want to let go. But, you did.

The mess hall was lined with strings of wooden picnic tables, all connecting to create a sense of community when it was filled with campers. Flags cascaded the walls, each a different color with a number, representing the teams. A large case expanded across the back wall, filled with trophies from years before. The corners of your mouth upturned with anticipation of the summer to come. Your thoughts were soon interrupted by an amplified voice booming from a megaphone. Holding said megaphone was the warden, Mrs. Campbell.

“Alright ladies! Tonight is the night! You all know what to do so go ahead and file out to find your campers!!” You and Ellie exited out the back of the building, heading to the camp entrance. A swarm of girls’ chatting and screams grew louder as staff united with them. One of your favorite parts about Camp Stillwater was the lack of boys. You felt safe, and you loved the idea of getting to empower all these young impressionable women.

You held up a sign signaling your cabin number and a single file line began forming in front of you. You handed each of your girls red ribbons (matching the ones in your own hair) as a personal touch, trying to foster a bond right from the start. Meanwhile, Ellie stood around for her campers dapping them up, giving off the perfect “chill counselor” vibe. You found the lack of discipline a little obnoxious but to each their own.

That night Stillwater kicked off camp with a bonfire complete with goodies for smores. You sat, knees together on the rough log, feeling as it left imprints of the bark on your bare thighs. Ellie sat just one log over goofing off with some other staff members, shooting an occasional glance at you.

The plastic bag of graham crackers crinkled as you ripped it open to begin assembling your late night snack. The hot air had turned cool with the lack of sun, but the preceding heat lingered in the melted chocolate you attempted to pass out. You stared as the sticky mallow and sweet liquid coco coated your fingers, inviting golden crumbs to join in. Ellie observed you deciding how to handle the mess, and with just a few seconds of thought, watched you stick your sugary soaked fingers straight in your mouth. A surge of guilt hit Ellie, noticing how much your licking troubled her. She clenched her thighs together and decided sweets just weren't for her.

With your hunger satisfied, the bonfire burned bright and you droned off getting lost in the flicker of the flames. Just then, you see a familiar Ellie in your peripherals wandering to the woods. Curious, you peeled your sticky legs from where you sat and got up to follow. You trailed behind her struggling to conceal your presence due to the snapping twigs under your feet. Ellie snaked her body back to acknowledge you and your obviousness. She loved to tease.

“Stalker much?”

“God, you wish I was stalking you, Williams.”

“So why are you following me then? Trying to catch me breakin’ the rules?” she questioned, half joking, half not. Continuing your follow, the two of you reached a more secluded part of the forest and Ellie halted.

“If you don’t want me to catch you, then maybe you should stop breaking rules. Ever think of that?” you taunted.

“Whatever Nancy Drew.” And with that, Ellie reached into her pocket pulling out a freshly rolled joint.

“You gonna bust me?” she teased before you quickly slapped the drugs out of her hands and into the moist dirt below.

“ELLIE!!!” you scolded her like she was a camper.

“Hey what the hell dude?!” she reached down to retrieve the now dirty joint and began to light it. A panicked look washed over your face and your eyes darted around, surveying for any possible company. God forbid you let this girl get you in trouble.

“I should be saying what the hell to you! Smoking on the job? So much for setting a good example… God, Ellie!” You palmed your face not sure how to proceed. In spite of your make believe beef, Ellie was your friend and you didn’t want to tattle. On the other hand though, the goodie two shoes and competitive freak inside wanted so badly to expose Ellie's naughty behavior. With her out of the picture, you could finish this summer out with a win. But, if you were being honest with yourself, camp wouldn’t be the same without her.

“Sorry, sorry. I know” Ellie shook her head at the ground pretending to be ashamed but she couldn’t have cared less. She knew you’d never tell, so on she went with her scheming.

“You wanna hit though?”

“Ellie!!” This time you gave a blow to her exposed bicep, really trying to lay the guilt on thick.

“Come onnnn. This is your 3rd year here, you’ve gotta loosen up at some point. Just one hit? Please, for me?” Ellie flashed you the most annoying puppy dog eyes and a devilish smirk already anticipating your answer. Growing up you found it easy to resist peer pressure, you’ve always thought of yourself as a rule follower, but when it came to Ellie she always knew what to say to push you to the edge. She was such an instigator and you fell for her act every damn time.

“Fine… one hit.” She practically shoved the weed in your hands in excitement as you reluctantly gave in. Ellie always had so much fun chipping away at that good girl exterior you worked so hard to uphold. You then took a slow drag and passed it back to her. You fixated on her wet lips as they placed themselves around the joint. She took a quick inhale before an amused look spread across her face.

“Cherry?” Already feeling the high, you gave Ellie a puzzled look, not understanding what she meant.

“Your lipgloss hun” She gestured to the pink stain rimming the tip of the joint.

Your face flushed red, “shit sorry.” You dug your foot into the ground and gave your lips a lick, recalling the fruity flavor.

“S’all good, I liked the taste” She replied, making your face turn a shade redder, almost matching the shorts that hugged your curves. Ellie would remember this moment, the taste of your lipgloss felt like a brush with destiny. Already assimilating the flavor to memory, she imagined her lips on yours and that cherry taste lingering in an exchange of saliva. God Ellie!! Stop being a perv and shut the fuck up!!

As one of the few masculine girls at camp, she was practically drowning in women, but her fixation with you prevented anything past a casual hook up. And casual hook up she did- with at least a fourth of the staff. Understandably, things got desperate being stuck at camp for 2 months straight. It’s not like you had the privacy to rub one out while sleeping in a room full of occupied bunk beds. But, with Ellie being a known player, you personally hadn’t thought twice about getting involved, despite the occasional butterflies. Bullying each other was more fun anyways.

Finally, Ellie finally finished off the joint, letting you take a couple more hits in between hers. She stomped the roach out into the moist ground making sure to put out any remaining embers. Her long stride pointed in the direction of the light filled cabins before you stopped her. With weed now rampant in your system, you weren’t ready for the night to end.

“Waitttt, stopppp, we can’t go nowww!” You grabbed Ellie’s wrist leading her back into the darkness, straight towards the lake.

“What? You wanna hangout with me all of the sudden?”

“I- I wanna swim…” you mumbled, almost afraid to hear it come out of your mouth. One of the most important rules at Camp Stillwater was no swimming after dark. Ellie almost gasped hearing you propose such a mischievous idea.

“Rulebreaker! Rulebreaker!” she chanted, almost falling over with laughter. Inside though, Ellie was kicking her feet at the thought of having a late night swim with her favorite girl.

“Come on Els, you’re the one who told me to live a little. Pleaseeee!!” You bat your long lashes like a cartoon character but there was no need to beg as Ellie was already on board. She loved corrupting you.

“I’ll race you!!” She shouted before dashing through the trees, kicking up dirt with each long stride. Of course she turned it into a competition, and you bolted right after her trying to catch up.

Neither of you even stopped to breathe as you reached the edge of the lake. Instead shirts, shorts, and shoes all flying off your bodies landing amongst the greenery, desperate to get your sweaty bodies into the cool, evening waters. As you dived in, a sense of euphoria washed over your body along with the deep blue ripples of H2O. Ellie’s head rose out of the water 2nd. She slicked her wet hair back and gave you a toothy smile that was to die for. You giggled at the sight, everything seeming a bit more silly while under the influence.

“Having fun princess?” she questioned, cheeks full.

“Yeah I am,” you smiled back, “I don’t think the fact that I’m breaking like 5 different rules has hit me yet.”

“Enough with the rules, let's have fun!” Ellie dove back into the water circling around your smooth legs. She took ur skin between her pointer and thumb, giving you little pinches like some sort of sea creature. You kicked and squirmed in reaction causing Ellie to shoot back up from her underwater adventure.

“Fuck off!” you shoved her bare shoulder with a teasing force. She put her hands up surrendering to your irritation. Her veiny arms glistened with lake water and your eyes wandered before getting stuck on the large tattoo adorning her forearm.

“Hey, that wasn’t there last summer.” you gestured to her.

“Yeah, uh, I got it a few months ago”

“It looks good,” you paused, “can I touch?” Ellie offered out her inked limb to you. It rested in your left hand and you used your right to trace the linework. Water droplets collected with each gentle brush of your fingertips. Goosebumps followed your delicate touch and Ellie's face turned red with enjoyment.

“S’pretty” you said, noticing a blush growing across your own face. You glanced off into the distance at the silence. The thick forest trees and bright stars urged you to take in a deep, pollution free inhale. Ellie broke the moment of zen to speak.

“Turn around.” she demanded. You obliged immediately despite her unknown intentions. You felt her hot breath on your neck and sudden skin-to-skin contact. She hooked her long fingers around your wet locks of hair, moving them across your back to one side. A chill radiated down your spine

“What are you doing Ellie?” you whispered. The closeness you shared and the now still lake, cloaked with haze, sent a hush over the both of you.

“Guess what I’m drawing” she whispered back. You scrunched up your shoulders in response to her vibrations hitting at your pulse. The feeling of her rough fingers met your back and began tracing symbols. You attempted to focus on her movements but it proved hard to decipher the message when she felt so close. Despite knowing Ellie for a long time, the two of you had never had this much prolonged touch. It ignited a feeling that you weren’t sure how to get control of. The silence hinted at your cluelessness.

“Here I’ll do it again,” she said, drawing out "I ♡ U” once more across your back.

“Fuck, I dont know. A dick?” You turned back to face Ellie questioning her with a giggle. Her face was littered with disappointment before quickly concealing it from you with a big splash of water. The tender moment was lost. She went along with your answer, lying through her teeth.

“Fine, you got me freak! It was a dick.” You splashed Ellie back harder, amused by her childish humor. The water slinging continued until you both became absolutely winded and ready to climb in bed. Oh fuck, bed...

“ELLIE, OH MY GOD, CURFEW!” you practically squealed before switching to breaststroke and heading towards land. Ellie snapped out of this little dream and followed after you.

You frantically threw on your clothes over your now soaked bra and panties. Wet spots began seeping through your shorts as you fiddled with your sneakers. Your wet feet swirled in the dirt below, caking them with the mud of your making. You vetoed the shoes and bolted towards the cabins completely barefoot. You were so focused on getting back that you hardly even noticed the branches and rocks assaulting your skin.

“FUCK WAIT UP!!” Ellie yelled, just feet behind you. As you looked back to acknowledge her request your ankle caught on a huge log that littered the forest's path. Your balance was thrown and your face went plummeting straight into the ground, hitting a dull rock on its way down. Ellie’s pace doubled as she jumped to your rescue. She fell to her knees by your side giving you support as you lifted yourself up. Looking down, your hands were dirty, stuck wood chips pressed into the skin. You dusted them off against each other, seemingly fine.

“Bro, oh my god, are you okay??” Ellie pestered, worried out of her mind.

“I think, yeah. It was honestly more embarrassing than painful.” you gave a light chuckle before looking up from the ground when suddenly a gush of liquid escaped your nose. Your finger dipped into the steady flow and you took note of the deep red now covering them.

“Just great.” you rolled your eyes. Ellie had the most concerned look on her face despite your injury being a simple bloody nose.

“We’ve gotta get you to the nurse like now!”

“Ellie chill, I’d rather not have an encounter with authority while I'm high as fuck and out past curfew.” You never thought you'd be saying that sentence.

“Fine, at least take this.” Ellie handed you a crumpled up tissue she had retrieved from her athletic shorts and you shoved it up your nose halting the flow.

Returning to the main area of the campgrounds felt like a walk of shame. You were drenched, muddy, and decorated in your own blood, and Ellie looked just as bad. Eventually the two of you reached your neighboring cabins and there waiting in between the steps of 11 and 12 was Warden Campbell. Fuck.

✄ - - - - part 1 , part 2 , part 3 - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

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stylesloveclub · 1 year

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KARMA

In which y/n tends to make a lot of spontaneous decisions when she’s drunk, and Harry’s a tattoo artist.

+++

On any average work day, Harry sees a lot of people come through his tattoo shop.

The majority of them are people who’ve gotten tattoos before – usually big burly men who come in to add a new tat to their sleeve, or teenage girls getting a secret butterfly on their side boob. There are the artsy people who come in for some detailed line work, and there are the silly drunk people who get a smiley face tattooed on their ass. Sometimes he’ll have someone come in for their first tattoo ever, shaking in their seat and tearing up before the tattoo gun even touches their skin.

Very rarely does he have someone come in for a piercing. But when they do, they’re usually older girls coming in for a helix or a belly button piercing.

Not five year old girls, wearing sparkly pink shoes and a sunflower printed dress.

“Hi!” Harry’s eyes flicker up to the lady standing behind the little kid. “Do you guys pierce ears here?”

“Erm… for her?” Harry says skeptically, pointing at the little girl. She can’t be older than five years old, standing with her thumb in her mouth and hiding behind the legs of the lady she’d come inside with. The lady seems young, probably the same age as him or a bit younger. He assumes the little girl must be her daughter.

“Yup!” the mom exclaims (or maybe a nanny, or aunt… Harry doesn’t really know. Or care.) “We wanna get her ears pierced for her birthday!” She looks down at the little girl with a glimmer in her eyes.

Harry contemplates saying no, he really does. He doesn’t like having kids in his shop— or anywhere near him if we’re being honest. They have snotty noses and sticky fingers and cry way too loud for him to be able to tolerate them. But this little girl seems relatively nice… she’s been quiet so far, and her nose is clean. Plus, the shop’s not busy today. Even if she did start crying, she wouldn’t scare any customers away. So he decides to be nice – just this one time.

“Sure,” he sighs. “I can do her.” He decides to do it himself instead of assigning the job to one of his employees. He’s been here the longest and has the steadiest hands, so he can get this over with the quickest.

He has the woman (y/n, he learns from the paperwork) sign a couple of papers, then has the two of them pick through the earring options that they have on display.

“Which one do you like the best, Lola?” Harry overhears her asking the little girl. Or– Lola, as he’s overheard.

Lola, still sucking her thumb, points to a pair of heart-shaped pink studs. “Tha’ one,” she says through her stuffed mouth.

“Oh, the hearts are so pretty!” y/n says giddily. “Good choice sweetheart.” She looks up at Harry. “Could we get those ones, please?”

He nods, and makes note of it in their paperwork.

“Follow me,” he says, leading them into the back room where he usually does the piercings. He motions towards a black, leather table that his clients usually sit or lay down on when getting their piercings done. The table is too tall for little Lola to climb onto all by herself, so y/n picks her up and plops her down on the seat. Her little sparkly shoes dangle from the edge, hanging two feet above the floor.

Harry washes his hands and takes out his sterilized materials from the cabinet in the room, as well as the pair of pink earrings that Lola has requested. A pair of black gloves fit onto his hands tightly. He then sits on a little rolly stool and rolls over to where she’s sitting on the bench.

“M’gonna disinfect your ears now,” he says to the little girl, tearing open a package of alcohol swabs. She just nods quietly, thumb in mouth. He can tell that Lola is nervous, her eyes wide and scared with her legs swinging nervously. She keeps looking over at y/n, who’s sitting on a chair right next to the table.

“Are you excited Lola?” she asks enthusiastically, trying to hype the little girl up.

It doesn’t work. Lola’s little eyes start to grow watery, her chin wobbling as she shakes her head no. “M’scared,” she whines, a frown taking over her face.

Harry rolls away as soon as he sees the tears. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Oh no, Lola!” she exclaims, squatting in the spot Harry had just been. She grabs Lola’s hands in hers and looks into the little girl’s tearful eyes. “Don’t be scared! We don’t have to pierce your ears if you don’t wanna baby.”

“But I do!” Lola whimpers.

“Well then what’s the problem bubs?” she asks soothingly.

Lola looks at Harry, then leans over to (not so successfully) whisper in y/n’s ear. “He’s scary,” she says, the pout on her face only deepening. Y/n looks over at Harry helplessly.

Ah, yes. He supposes his all black clothes, tattooed arms, and black painted nails weren’t doing much to comfort the little girl… maybe he is a little scary.

“Hey,” he says rolling back to the table, his voice somewhat softer than the deep, grumpy rumble it had been before. He’s gonna have to really up the niceness if he wants to get through the session smoothly. “Nothing to be scared of, little lady. It’ll just take a second and s’not even gonna hurt.” He gives a tight smile, the best he can muster up despite his apprehensiveness about talking to a kid on the verge of tears.

“Y’hear that, bubs?” she reassures the little girl with a big smile on her face. She plays with Lola’s hands encouragingly. “Come one, you’re a big girl. You can do it!”

Lola sniffles deeply and wipes her eyes with her tiny fists. “M’a big girl,” she affirms with a confident nod.

“Good girl!” y/n says, giving Lola a stellar high five. She gets up from where she’d been squatting and goes back to her seat, letting Harry roll back to where he’d previously been.

“I’m going to wipe your ears again, okay? We’ve gotta make sure they’re nice and clean.” Harry explains. He’s added a bit of an enthusiastic kick to his voice, really selling the “I’m not a big meanie!” vibe to Lola. She nods, a few leftover tears hanging onto her long eyelashes.

She winces when the cold wipe touches her earlobe, and Harry fears for his life. Was every little thing going to make this little girl cry? He decides to distract her. “How old are you, Lola?” He asks the first question that comes to mind.

She holds up five fingers. “Wow! Five years old!” he bursts. “You’re a big girl!”

That makes her smile and nod happily. Harry internally lets out a sigh of relief. He got a smile out of her, who would’ve thought!

He takes a sterile pen and marks two dots on Lola’s earlobe for where the piercing would go. “What do you think?” he says, turning to y/n. She nods and holds up an excited thumbs up.

“Okay, Lola,” Harry says nervously, pulling out the needle he’d be using to pierce her ear. He cleans it below the table so that the little girl doesn’t see it and start crying. “M’gonna need you to stay very still for this next part. Okay, sweetheart?” Lola agrees, but her composure falters when he brings the needle into view. “I know it’s a little scary, but I need you to be brave. Can you do that for me? Be a brave girl for me?”

She nods her head. “Brave,” she mumbles to herself. “Brave girl.”

He realizes that the clamps that he usually uses for piercing ears is too big for Lola’s small earlobes – but it’s okay. He’s done so many impromptu piercings that he has a shit ton of experience not using the proper equipment. Instead, he just holds the skin of her earlobe tightly and stretches it taut so that the needle would go in smoothly.

“Okay Lola, take a deep breath in,” he instructs gently, piercing the needle through her skin in one smooth motion, “...and out.” He quickly follows through with the heart shaped studs and secures it with the backing. “You did it! One ear done!”

She looks up at him confused. “That was it?” she asks, reaching her hand up to feel if the earring is actually there.

Harry catches her little hand and brings it down to her lap before it makes contact with her piercing. “Ah, ah-” he tuts, “we can’t touch it okay? You gotta let it heal or else it’ll start to hurt.” He notices the way her little fingers wrap around his hand as he holds them still in her lap. “Are you ready to do the other ear?” he asks patiently.

She nods a bit more enthusiastically this time, no longer scared.

“Atta girl!” he exclaims, piercing the other ear in the same manner. He sanitizes her ears one last time and makes sure that everything is secure before holding up a mirror for the little girl to see her reflection in. “What do you think?”

Lola’s eyes go round, glimmering happily. “Pretty,” she says, looking at y/n for confirmation.

“So pretty, Lola!” she exclaims, standing up and pinching the little girl’s cheek. “M’so proud of you, you’re such a big girl! Thank you…” she looks at Harry, trailing off at the fact that she doesn’t know his name.

“Harry,” he fills in for her. He rolls away from Lola and throws away the trash.

She smiles softly. “Thank you, Harry.”

+++

It’s a quiet night at the tattoo shop, which Harry is thankful for.

There’d been a few appointments earlier in the day, larger pieces that people had scheduled months in advance because they took a lot of consultations and took long chunks of time to tattoo – but there had barely been any walk-ins. It’s a Thursday night, so of course his business isn’t bustling the way it would be on a Saturday.

Harry decides to start cleaning up – if he’s lucky, nobody else would venture in before their closing time and he’d be able to get home a bit early. (His little cat is waiting for him at home!) He wipes down the tattoo chairs and puts away all the needles, sweeps the floors and turns off the lights in the staff room in silence, until suddenly, he hears the bell above the door ring and someone clumsily stumbles in. It’s y/n.

Harry looks at her. She looks at him.

“Hi…?” Harry says, his voice a little doubting, a little bit confused. Why was she back?

She stands in front of him nervously. “Um…” she’d stumbled into the tattoo shop with such confidence, but finds herself suddenly nervous and unable to speak under Harry’s intimidating gaze. “Hi.”

She won’t lie– she’s a little, teensy weensy bit drunk right now. She’d been at the bar across the street with a couple of her girlfriends, just hanging out and having fun, when she spilled to them about the hot tattoo artist who worked at the shop across the street.

She’s had plenty of fleeting crushes in her life, but none have been as quick and captivating as her crush on Harry. With his deep voice, green eyes, and tan skin, he’s cast some sort of spell on her. She’d been in his presence for what… a total of 45 minutes? And yet she can’t get him off her mind!

He was just… really hot! And he had that sexy, mysterious vibe to him…. With all those tattoos and the rings and the black eyeliner… gosh he was straight out of some bad boy romance novel! If it weren’t for the fact that she’d been with her five-year old goddaughter when she met him for the first time, she’s sure she would’ve started acting up. He was just so attractive!

In her tipsy state, with her cheeks warm and a fuzzy feeling in her chest, she couldn’t help but rant to her friends about it. She’d met the hottest guy ever, and she’d never have the chance to see him again! It was tragic!

Well… it doesn’t have to be that way, her friends told her. What was stopping her from heading over to the tattoo shop right now?

No, she thought to herself. Going over to the tattoo shop, drunk, with absolutely nothing to say except Hi, I think you’re hot? She could never do that…

The vodka lemonade in her system said otherwise, though. That, along with all her friends who hyped her, had somehow managed to convince her to venture across the street and visit her dreamy tattoo man!

So now she’s in his tattoo shop, with absolutely no idea of what to say or how to act.

“How can I help you?” he asks after a tense second of silence.

“Um…” she doesn’t really have a game plan, but she decides on the spot, “I want a piercing.”

“A piercing?” he clarifies. She nods. “Okay… where?”

She points to the shell of her ear. “You want a helix piercing?” he asks once more.

“Yeah,” she says confidently, accompanied by an eager nod of her head.

“Okay…” he mulls it over for a second. “Are you… y’know– like, in the right headspace to do this?” Something is telling him that she’s not completely sober, and he doesn’t want to do something that she’d regret.

“Yeah, yeah!” She brushes it off nonchalantly, “I only had like, one drink! And I’ve been meaning to get a piercing, especially after I came in here with Lola.”

The first half of that was a lie– she had like, three drinks. But, it is true that she’d been thinking about getting her helix pierced for a while. She’d always thought they were cool, and had thought to herself that she’d like to get it done. She just never had taken any initiative on that thought… until right now, at least.

“If you say so…” He’s still a bit doubtful, but he supposes his slight suspicion isn’t enough of a reason to refuse service to her.

He brings her the paperwork on a clipboard and gets all his required equipment out as she fills it out. “Which do you want?” he asks her, pointing to the wide variety of helix piercing options displayed.

“Um…what do you recommend?” She’s normally much more prepared and would have done a bunch of research on what kind of jewelry would heal best or what type of metal was safest… but again, this decision was kind of made on a whim.

“I always tell clients to start off with a stud, and then if you want you can switch it out for a hoop once the piercing has healed.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” A pretty, butterfly shaped stud catches her eye. “Can I do that one, please?”

He nods. Grabbing his equipment, he decides that y/n is gonna be the last customer of the night, so he flips the sign on the front of the door to read closed, and leads her into the backroom, the same room where he’d pierced Lola’s ears.

“Where’s your daughter?” he asks, turning on the lights. Y/n follows behind him, and sits on the bench that he guides her towards.

“Oh, she’s not mine!” “She’s not?” Harry had assumed that was her daughter with how close they were and how easily y/n comforted the little girl.

“Lola’s my goddaughter!” she bubbles. “She’s at home with her parents right now. I just got to take her out this week for a little pre-birthday surprise.”

“That’s cute,” he hums. With a pair of black gloves on his hands, he rips open the sanitizing pad and stands in front of y/n. The cool alcohol wipe feels refreshing against her ear, a striking contrast to how flushed her face feels.

Harry’s eyes are dark and stern as he focuses on his job. His knuckles nudge her chin, angling her head in a way so he could clean the backs of her ears too. She’s looking up at him with wide eyes, captivated by his every movement. With how close he’s standing to her, she can feel his breaths against her cheek, see the sparks of gold embedded in his green irises. She can’t help herself from staring at his pretty pink lips, how they pout as he marks the spot he wants to pierce.

Now, usually it makes Harry really uncomfortable when people stare at him while he’s doing their tattoo or giving a piercing. He’d rather they just close their eyes, or stare at the staring, anywhere else but at him! But with her… he doesn’t fully mind it. She’s kind of cute, he has to admit.

He holds up a mirror for her. “Look good?”

She nods. She barely looks into the mirror and doesn’t overthink the placement of it at all. Somehow, she trusts Harry wholeheartedly.

He takes the needle out of its sterile packaging, and y/n eyes it nervously. “Do helix piercings… hurt a lot?” she asks with a timid voice. The sight of a needle coming towards her face has sobered her up quite a bit.

“Not necessarily.” He notices her nervous eyes, “They obviously hurt more than a lobe piercing, since it’s cartilage, but s’only like a pinch.”

She still looks frightened. “Can you, um– count?”

His eyes narrow slightly, and she feels like he’s judging her. But he agrees nonetheless. “Sure. Ready?” She nods her head as best as she can with her ear pinched between his fingers. “3…2…1.” She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a sharp breath as the needle pierces through her cartilage.

She exhales with a shaky breath. “Ow,” her eyes open, stinging with tears.

He looks at her with a furrow in his brow. If she knew him better, she’d know that he’s concerned. But since they’re practically strangers, it just looks like he’s annoyed with her. “Did it hurt?” he asks.

“Little bit,” she mumbles. “I think it’s just the thought of a needle that’s making me a wuss. I’m not good with needles.” She sniffles a bit, but her tears aren’t heavy enough to fall from her lashes.

“Well that was the hard part,” he says, somewhat reassuringly. He follows through with the butterfly shaped stud, and secures it in the back.

He holds the mirror up for her once more, and she gazes at her own reflection in awe. “It’s so pretty,” she whispers. The butterfly glimmers prettily on her ear, the jewels that make up the wings shining under the white lighting. He sanitizes the piercing once more, then takes a step back.

“Make sure you avoid touching the piercing, ‘cos that’ll irritate it and also potentially infect it. Little bit of swelling and redness is fine for the first few days, but if it persists or gets infected then go to the doctors.” He takes his gloves off and throws his trash into the bin, then grabs a bottle of an aftercare solution, “Y’have to wash it 2-3 times a day for the next 3 weeks, then once a day after that. Don’t go swimming or submerge it under water, don’t pick at it or play with the piercing, avoid sleeping on it. And if you think anything is wrong then feel free to come back and we’ll check it out for you, yeah?”

She nods her head diligently. “How long does it take to fully heal?”

“Helix piercings take anywhere from six months to two years to fully heal. The better you take care of it, the better it’ll heal.”

Her eyes widen, “I didn’t know piercings took so much work.”

He eyes her curiously. “What made you decide to get pierced today if you didn’t know anything about it?”

“Oh, I was just… like in a fun mood,” she explains, avoiding the fact that the only reason she’d come in here was because she wanted to see him, the hot tattoo artist she’d been fantasizing about for the past week. “Me and my friends perform at the bar across the street every Thursday night, and we got some drinks afterwards and I just… decided to do it.” She smiles nervously.

“You perform?” he asks.

“Oh, yeah!” she bubbles excitedly. “I mean, I just play the keys, but my friend is a really good singer and it’s a lot of fun. S’right across the street, you should check it out one day!”

He hums. “Maybe one day.”

+++

Y/n didn’t really think much of it when she told Harry to come check out one of their performances. It just kind of… slipped out.

She didn’t think he’d actually show up! In fact, she thought she’d totally fumbled with him! She just got a piercing from him, and that’s it. No phone numbers, no flirting, nothing.

But here he is, sitting at a bar waiting for her as she walks off stage.

“Ruby,” she whispers to the lead singer of their band. “He’s here.”

“Who?” Ruby whispers back, looking around inconspicuously.

“The tattoo artist,” y/n says nervously.��

Ruby’s eyes widen. “Where?!” she gasps excitedly.

“Long hair, sitting by the bar with a drink.”

Ruby finds him easily, “Girl… he’s hot.”

Y/n nods. “What do I do?”

“Go talk to him, duh!” Ruby spares another glance towards Harry. “He’s looking at you. Go over there right now, or I’ll do it for you.”

Y/n’s palms sweat and she looks at Ruby helplessly. She’s nervous! But Ruby just raises her eyebrow and gives her a look, one that tells her to suck it up and go flirt with her dream man.

With a deep breath, she walks to the bar, eyes glued to the floor and desperately avoiding Harry’s eyes until she’s right in front of him. “Hi,” she says.

He takes a sip of his drink, some type of golden whiskey sitting in a crystal glass. His eyes glimmer with familiarity. “Hi.”

“You came,” she says, fingers twisting behind her back.

“I did.” He flags the bartender down. “Are you drinking anything?”

“Oh, um… just a strawberry marg.” She smiles to herself– he’s buying her a drink! That must mean something, right? “How much of the show did you see?”

“Just the end. Had to close up shop and all before I came.”

She nods understandingly. “How, um… What did you think?” Her drink arrives and she takes a long, nervous sip.

“It was good. You were great up there.”

Her cheeks grow warm and she hopes Harry can’t tell how happy that small comment made her. “Thanks,” she says with a soft smile.

He takes another sip of his drink, and says nothing more. He’s got an intimidating demeanor, one that makes y/n shrink into herself, and yet she doesn’t want to leave his side. She’s attracted to him, obviously, but also intrigued. His mysterious ways have captured her attention, his quiet personality something y/n wants to unravel.

She coughs dryly, even though her throat doesn’t itch or anything, and awkwardly takes a sip of her drink. She wishes she had something to say to Harry, and wonders if she should just walk away to save herself from this painful silence.

“Y/n!” One of her bandmates, Benji, somehow hears her prayers and wraps his arms around her shoulder. “Killed it on the keys tonight! So groovy babe, you’re amazing.”

“Thanks Benji,” she mumbles, her face heating at the extravagant attention he’s drawn to them. Harry observes her quietly, not even acknowledging Benji’s presence – just watching her. He takes another long, quiet sip of his drink.

“This a friend of yours?” Benji asks, nodding towards Harry. His arms are still wrapped around her shoulders, his hands rubbing up and down her arm warmly. She can feel Harry eyeing the contact.

She clears her throat. “Yeah, this is Harry. He tattoos at the shop across the street.”

“Oh, sick! Nice to meet you man.”

Harry tips his drink in acknowledgement, but still says nothing.

“Listen– me, Ruby, and Char are heading to Nora’s apartment in like, thirty minutes. You wanna come with? You can ride with me.”

Y/n glances at Harry, but he’s looking down at his drink, swirling it softly. The ice clinks in his glass softly, somehow standing out to y/n’s ear despite how loud the bar is. “Um, I’ll let you know, okay? I’ll text.” Benji pats her arm with an affirming nod, and heads back to his table where the rest of their friends are sitting.

“S’that your boyfriend?” Harry says, finally looking up. His brows are furrowed, as usual, and his green eyes stare at her intensely.

“Oh, Benji?” she laughs. “No way. He’s dating Nora.”

He hums. “No boyfriend at all, then?”

She shakes her head softly, “No boyfriend.”

“Good,” he says, setting his glass down. “Would suck if I was trying to hook up with a girl who’s taken.”

Pause.

“You– what?” Her heart stutters in her chest, and she forgets how to breathe. “You want… with me?”

He sets the drink down and stands from his stool, towering over her. Looking at her with those intense, green eyes, he unabashedly glances down at her lips. “What are you doing after this?”

“Um.” Benji’s invitation flashes through the forefront of her mind. Her eyes flicker between his nervously, looking for any signs that he might be messing with her. He’s dead serious. “Nothing.”

“I live just a little bit away. Do you want to come to mine?”

“To yours? To um– like, you know…” her brain is going haywire and she can’t get a proper sentence out. “Like to… hook up?”

He nods, eyes hard but honest. “Would you want that?”

“Yeah!” She realizes how eager she sounds, and tones it down. “I mean, yes. I’d want that. I would want to go to yours and would like to, um… you know. I would wanna…” She stumbles over her words, struggling to formulate her thoughts into coherent words. She shakes her head and looks at the ground shyly, embarrassed that she can’t get it out.

Harry steps forward, lifts her chin, and gives her a kiss – mostly to shut her up, but also to test the waters, see if the chemistry is there. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands lifting softly with the intention of grabbing onto his arms, but too shy to actually touch him, so they just hang in the air between them. Harry, on the other hand, cups her jaw with the hand that he’d use to tilt her chin upwards, while the other hand rests on her hip. He puckers his lips softly against hers, sucking her bottom lip gently.

His grip on her hip tightens as they kiss, and she relaxes into his touch. The whirlwind of thoughts disappears in the kiss, the anxiety of trying to speak with him and knowing how and where to touch him vanishes in seconds. Her hands finally feel comfortable enough to touch him, resting gently on his chest, fingers grabbing onto his shirt unconsciously. He pulls away with a soft click. When her eyes gently flutter open, glazed over with puppy-like eagerness, he confirms to himself that the chemistry is definitely there.

“Ready to go, then?”

+++

Harry’s apartment is oddly nothing like y/n expected.

From his rugged exterior, you’d think his home would be dark and grungy, like himself. But he lives in a cute apartment, quaint and cozy. The building is in a nice area, with an apparently new lock and intercom system that y/n envies (getting into her building is a hassle – her key always gets stuck and she’s always getting calls from people who want the person in room 316. She lives in 318!). He keys them in with a small fob attached to a key chain, and she follows him through the lobby, up the elevator, down the hallway, and into his apartment.

A sweet little white cat with pretty blue eyes sits in front of the door as they walk in. She meows up at Harry, and tangles herself between his legs, her fluffy tail twirling behind her softly. “You don’t mind cats or anything, do you?” Harry asks.

“No, not at all!”

“This is Dandie,” he murmurs. Harry picks the cat up into his arms, his tattooed arms striking against her delicate white fur. “It’s short for dandelion.”

“How sweet,” y/n coos, stepping forward. She tries to give Dandie a scratch on the head, but the cat flinches her head away, meowing grumpily. Y/n pouts.

“Takes a while for her to warm up to people,” Harry explains. “Don’t take it personally.”

He sets Dandie down, letting her prance away as she pleases while he leads y/n further into his apartment. It’s homey and comfortable, clearly lived in. Harry has dark, espresso colored shelves lined with books and little trinkets, souvenirs and little decorations that you’d find in antique shops. A sage green couch with a chunky knit white blanket draped on top sits in the center of his living room, matching the fluffy white rug that lays under his coffee table. A half full mug of tea sits on a coaster on top of the glass table. It faces the wall with a large television attached to it.

Underneath the television is a short stand that has a record player sitting on top of it– a fancy one, she might add – with built-in shelves that store all of his records. She wanders towards them, straying away from Harry, who’s gone to the kitchen to set out some food for Dandie. There must be a hundred of them, she thinks to herself, most of them old artists that she’s never heard of.

He startles her when he walks back into the room, snapping her out of her curious exploration of his home. “Put some food out so Dandie won’t bother us,” he says. Y/n nods, looking at Harry shyly. She’s not very well-versed in this whole… one night stand stuff, and doesn’t really know what to do, so she stands there nervously as he comes closer. She knows that the whole reason she’s here is to hook up with Harry, but she has no idea how to initiate it. She’s not some sexy vixen who knows how to seduce a man – she’s a nervous and clumsy girl who doesn’t know where to put her hands when she kisses someone!

It’s a miracle that she’s managed to somehow capture Harry’s attention, despite the fact that she constantly stumbles over her words and barely knows how to act around him. He’s just like… scarily intimidating!

Lucky for her, he takes the lead and initiates the contact so that y/n can stop wracking her head over how to relieve the tension between them. He stands in front of her and cups a hand under her jaw, his fingers sliding into her hair. Although his brows are still furrowed, his eyes are somewhat softer as he looks down at her, flickering between her eyes, then down to her lips.

Did you want to put a record on?” He asks, eyes still fixated on her lips.

Her breath hitches in her throat, and her tongue darts out to lick her dry lips. “Can I?” she responds gently.

He gives an affirming hum, his dark eyes darting back up to hers, searching them intently. His pupils have dilated, his bright green irises now a deeper, forest green. “Anything in particular you wanna listen to?”

“Um…” she pulls away from and bends down to the height of the shelf to look at his selection. She sees Billy Joel, The White Stripes, The Cranberries… all music that she never really listens to. Oldies aren’t necessarily her taste, she’s more of a Taylor Swift gal. The only artist she recognizes is Fleetwood Mac, which he has a whole selection of. She plays it safe and goes with a vinyl of their “Top Hits,” delicately removing the record from the shelf and standing up with it.

She’s nervous about setting the record up (it seems like Harry’s a big record guy and she doesn’t want to scratch the vinyl or break the spinner or anything like that), so she gives the record to Harry, who stands closely behind her. With his chest pressed to her back, he wraps his arms around her and takes the vinyl out of her hands, easily taking it out of its case and placing it on the spinner. His soft, warm breaths tickle the back of her neck, and she wonders if she imagined the feeling of his lips skimming her shoulder.

Delicately, he places the needle on the record and it starts spinning, a warm static noise playing before it fades into the strong piano of the first song. His hands now rest on her hips, large and warm and gentle, and this time she knows that she’s not imagining him pressing kisses along her shoulder, and up to her neck. Goosebumps trail down her spine, and she closes her eyes, subtly tilting her head to the side to give him more access. When his kisses reach the base of her neck, he sucks lightly – not enough to leave a permanent mark, but just enough to make her core pulse and the skin there throb.

His hands trail up her sides, twisting her around slowly so that she’s facing him again. She follows him easily, moony eyes staring up at him in anticipation of his next move.

He finally leans in for a kiss. Y/n reciprocates eagerly, leaning up to kiss him back. Her eyes shut delicately, ready to fully relax into the kiss – but he pulls away before she has the chance to fully appreciate the way his lips feel against her.

Her eyes open and she looks up at him with a pout, concerned and a bit scared about why he might’ve pulled away so soon. He grabs her hands, which had been awkwardly hanging by her sides, and wraps them around his shoulders.

She feels much more comfortable this way, relieved that Harry has taken the burden of figuring out what to do with her hands away from her. Then he leans down to kiss her again, and she lets him take control.

His blunt, black painted fingernails scratch softly against her scalp as his fingers curl in her hair, holding her steady so that he can kiss her as he pleases. His other hand holds onto her waist, palm resting over her clothes while his thumb sneaks under her shirt to tenderly tease her warm skin. Her stomach jolts at his light touch. Their lips fold over each other perfectly, linking and unlinking in a slow, sultry, continuous kiss. She doesn’t realize that she’s craning her neck upwards trying to get closer and closer to him as they kiss, or that her fingers are unconsciously gripping onto the back of his shirt.

Harry takes a step forward, never breaking their kiss, inching y/n backwards until she’s pressed against the wall. The hand that had been cradling her jaw slides down her neck, then over her shoulder, then presses against the wall to support his weight as he leans over her. His neck bends downwards to reach y/n’s lips so that she doesn’t have to keep getting up on her tippy toes. With a hand on her lower back, he presses her against him, her back arching so that her stomach is pressed against his firm abdomen.

Although the sexual tension between Harry and y/n had been there since the moment they kissed in the bar, it had been a bit muted. Her anxiety over not embarrassing herself and figuring out how to initiate anything with him had muffled any of her desires, and distracted her from noticing the way Harry was eyeing her hungrily. Now that they’re kissing though, with their bodies pressed together and their hands roaming over each other, the tension is bursting. Y/n feels the heat in her core spreading all over her body, a desperate whimper growing in her chest and spilling out into Harry’s mouth.

Here she was, kissing the hot tattoo artist that she’d been dreaming about all week, with his firm chest pressed against hers, his thick fingers tangled in her hair, and his pretty pink lips on her mouth. It made her head spin with excitement. She’s no longer embarrassed in communicating her eagerness, whimpering and pressing herself into him even more.

Harry untangles his lips from hers and buries his face into her neck, kissing her there. She arches her head backwards, letting it knock against the wall to bare the skin of her throat to him. Her fingers untangle from the back of his shirt, only to tangle into his hair, long curly tendrils that she softly grasps as he kisses and sucks at the thin skin of her throat. Harry’s lips are soft and skilled, suckling gently at her most tender spots and breathing warm air over them to make her shiver. She moans softly, and not so subtly presses her hips into his center.

His hands roam her body, going from holding onto her hips, to grazing her ribs, then back down to skim over her ass. His palms feel warm, burning her skin through her clothes as he grips her thighs and lifts her into the air. With his hand under her thighs, her legs wrapped around his waist, and his hips pressing her into the wall, he somehow effortlessly picked her up.

The firm bulge confined in his black jeans presses deliciously against her soft heat, and she rolls her hips forward. With her fingers tangled in his roots, she guides his face back to hers so that she can start kissing him once more, feel his soft lips slick against hers and his warm breath against her face.

In a spur of the moment decision, Harry tightens his grip on her thighs and pulls her off the wall, carrying her over to the green couch in the center of the room. Laying her down gently, he breaks their kiss to kneel down on the floor next to her. She props herself up on her elbows and stares down at him with lust-blown eyes and swollen lips, breathing heavily as he teases the button of her denim jeans.

“Off?” he asks, and she nods eagerly, letting him unbutton, unzip, and undress her without hesitation. She’s left in her plain underwear, which he also peels off, leaving him face to face with her soft folds. His hands find her knees, and she watches him spread her legs open, her pretty pussy blooming like a spring flower.

Harry bites his lip, eyes unblinking and fixated on her center as he inches closer and closer. When she feels his warm breath against her center, she shudders, a warm rush spreading from her core, all the way up her spine. Her breathing visibility quickens, chest rising and falling noticeably enough for Harry to finally look away from her pussy and flicker his eyes up to her.

“Alright?” he murmurs, warm hands resting soothingly on her thighs. He’s a man of few words, yet he still manages to check in with her.

“Yeah,” she breathes shakily.

Without saying anything else, he leans in and licks a bold stripe up her center. His tongue dips between her folds, spit mixing with the slick that had gathered there since he first kissed her at the bar. She whines and bucks her hips upwards as soon as he makes contact with her, shutting her eyes when he starts to swirl his tongue round her clit. He makes no noise, face stoic save for the furrow in his brow showing his sheer concentration.

Pink lips wrap around her clit, sucking lightly and sending a shock throughout her entire body. When she wriggles around, he holds her hips still, his thick fingers pressing firmly into her plushy skin. Her hand shoots down to grip at the edge of his couch, holding herself steady as quiet whimpers escape her throat. She doesn’t want to embarrass herself by moaning obnoxiously, biting her lips to keep her noises in, but Harry’s making it really hard for her with the way he’s sucking her clit.

When he slides a finger into her pussy, any shame or embarrassment flies out the window. A loud cry escapes her, and she feels herself practically sucking his finger in, eager to finally have something penetrating her. Harry pulls off her clit with a pop and watches his finger disappear into her heat, biting his lip at how warm and tight she feels. He nearly groans out imagining how amazing she’d feel wrapped around his cock.

Slipping another finger in next to the first, he curls his fingers up and searches for that plushy spot on her front wall. Honestly, just having his fingers inside of her is enough to have her squirming, but when he finds her special spot, she feels her fingers go numb and her lip nearly bursts from how hard she bites down on it.

He smiles to himself when she clenches around his fingers, a subtle confirmation that he’d indeed found her g-spot and was rubbing his fingers against it in the right way. And if she’s being honest… that smile alone could’ve made her cum. A self assured, cocky smirk, with a dimple piercing his cheek and a smug glimmer in his eye. It makes her head spin, having someone so attractive sitting between her thighs.

When he leans back down to suck her clit, combined with the feeling of his fingers curling into that plushy spot, a familiar ringing starts in her ears. Before she knows it, she’s cumming around Harry’s fingers, clenching and whining and throwing her head back as pleasure overtakes her body.

It’d been so long since she’d come at the hands of someone other than herself, nevertheless someone as good as Harry. She’d given up on hookup culture and one night stands long ago, opting for her trusty Urban Outfitters vibrator over fake orgasms, and had nearly forgotten how good it felt letting someone else do all the work. How nice it felt to have broad hands skimming over your legs as you cum, or having someone’s lips teasing your skin as you come down from your high.

Her heart beats sporadically as she calms down, regaining her vision and blinking open her eyes to see Harry kissing her inner thighs. His fingers slip out of her pussy gently, slicked in a glossy layer of her cum, which he licks off casually. Y/n nearly cums again just from seeing that.

He pushes himself up from the ground to stand. “Up for more?” he asks, pressing down on the bulge in his jeans. Nodding, she sits up on the couch so that she’s face to face with his cock, and undoes the button of his tight, black jeans. She yanks them down to his knees, revealing a pair of black Calvin Kleins, and a large tiger tattoo on his thigh. Momentarily, she gets distracted, tracing the sharp inked teeth of the tiger, feeling the firm muscle of his thigh. But then he palms himself through his briefs, and she remembers the mission she’s on.

Pulling those down as well, his cock bobs up in front of her face, pink and ruddy tip hypnotizing her as it sways up and down, finally free of its confines. She’s ready to return the favor, licking her lips and eager to get her lips around his cock – not only because she feels obligated to suck him off since he ate her out, but also because his cock is pretty. It’s thick and hard, with veins running up the sides, and he looks clean and well groomed. Her mouth waters, and she wants him in her mouth. But, before she can even lick the tip, he wraps his own fist around it, tilting it away from her mouth.

Her eyes flicker up from his cock to his face, an upset furrow in her brow, but Harry disregards it. “How do you want it?” he asks instead, too impatient to get sucked off. He’s been dreaming of her warm cunt ever since she came around his fingers.

She says nothing, instead grabbing his hips and pulling him down to sit next to her on the couch. His cock bobs heavily between the two of them as she straddles him, her knees encasing his thick, muscled thighs. “Um… do you– condom?” she asks breathlessly. He wriggles a hand into the back pocket of his pants, which hang around his knees carelessly, and pops a trojan out.

Ripping the foil with his teeth, he sheaths it onto his cock in less than a minute. Y/n lifts herself up on her knees, lines him up with her pussy, and sinks down gently. With her on top, she sets a slow, easy pace for herself, taking her time as she presses down. He fills her up, inch by inch, stretching her to the brim, and she loves it.

Harry spreads his arms on the back of the couch, casually watching as she lowers himself on his cock. She’s warm and wet and so fucking tight… he throws his head back in ecstacy, relieved to finally have his cock snugly inside of her. Her hands reach backwards to hold onto his knees, lifting herself up and down, angling in a way so that his cockhead rubs against her g-spot everytime she grinds down.

With his lip between his teeth, his bright green eyes stare as she starts bouncing faster. He reaches a hand out to hold onto her hip, his palm smoothing over her soft skin and guiding her as she lifts herself on his cock. He makes no noises, but he breathes deeply through his nose and watches her with lust-blown pupils, eyelids heavy as if he were drunk.

Y/n on the other hand, whimpers with every swivel of her hips, cheeks flushed and chest bursting. She’s doing her damn best but being on top is hard! The burning in her thighs is lowkey making her regret climbing onto his lap instead of letting him have his way with her, but just as she’s about to start cramping up, Harry’s other hand leaves the couch to grip her hip. With both hands burning on her hipbones, he helps her bounce up and down on his cock.

She relaxes now, his strong hands helping her immensely and letting her start focusing on the burning orgasm bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She falls forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her chest against his, whining into his ear when his cockhead kisses her g-spot each time he pulls her down. He grunts quietly when her fingernails dig into the muscles of his shoulders, and whispers a quiet praise in her ear.

“Yeah, that’s good,” he murmurs with a low voice – that sends her over the edge. She clenches around his thick length, squeezing her thighs tightly around his hips as she lets out a choked moan, a quiet ohmygod escaping her through her orgasm.

She flutters around his cock the same way she’d done around his fingers and his vision goes white, throwing his head back on the couch and letting his eyes blink shut in bliss. A lazy smile overtakes his face as her pussy milks his cock, and he releases in long warm spurts into the condom.

She breathes heavily in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck and holding on for dear life, while Harry sits there casually, blissed out and fully content. His hands rub over the skin of her bare thighs gently, thumbs tracing soft circles as her shaky breaths start to even out. She pulls her face out of his neck, and looks down at him with blown out eyes and hot cheeks.

“Good?” he asks with a cocky smirk, the cutest dimple in his cheek.

She nods breathlessly, fluttering her eyes unbelievingly. “Wow,” is all she can say. Harry chuckles cutely.

He’s still fitted snugly inside of her, so she lifts herself off his cock, hissing at the feeling of being empty after he filled her up so well. Harry takes the sloppy condom off of his prick and ties it off, standing up when y/n shuffles off of his lap to throw it out in the kitchen.

When he walks back in, cock bare and swinging about, y/n is getting herself dressed and ready to go. If there’s anything she hates more than the awkwardness that comes before hooking up with someone for the first time, it’s the awkwardness that comes after you actually have sex. She always felt insecure, extra vulnerable, and a little bit nervous… and she never knew what to do with herself. So even though she could really go for a cuddle or something right now, she gets herself dressed and ready to head home. That’s what you do after a one night stand, right?

Harry seems a lot more… relaxed than she’d expected, though. She was worried he’d be rushing her out of his house, ordering her a taxi and getting dressed as soon as they were done. But no, he casually slides his black Calvin Kleins up his legs, kicking his black jeans onto the floor with no second thought. He sits himself on the couch, and opens up a water bottle.

“Brought you some water,” he says casually, nodding towards the bottle he’d brought from the kitchen after he’d thrown the condom out.

“...thanks,” she says, picking up the water and cautiously sitting back down next to him. She cracks the seal open and takes a small sip. Harry chugs half the bottle down, then throws it onto the coffee table.

“Whereabouts do you live?” he then asks, throwing an arm on the back of the couch.

“Um… about 10 minutes from the tattoo shop. East side of town, in the apartment complex near the port.”

“Oh so you’re not too far,” he murmurs thoughtfully, and she shakes her head in confirmation. “That’s perfect.” He searches around himself for a minute before he finds his phone, face down on the side table, and passes it to y/n. “Why don’t you put your number in then, and we can do this again?”

She grabs his phone a bit dazed, “you wanna hook up again?”

“Err, yeah?” he says dumbly. “Only if you want to, though.”

Her heart flutters giddily – so this wasn’t goodbye! She’s really winning the jackpot, and she wonders what she’s done to get this much good karma. First she got to hook up with the hot tattoo artist, and now he wants to turn it into a fling? “Yeah… yeah sounds good.”

+++

THE REST OF TATTOORRY IS PATREON EXCLUSIVE!!! PART TWO IS ALREADY OUT ON PATREON!!!!! THANK U FOR READING!!!

#harry #harry styles #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #daddy harry styles #daddy!harry #harry styles daddy kink #harrystylessmut #harrysmut #harry one shot #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles oneshot

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s4sharkteeth · 11 months

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If you go, I'll stay, you come back, I'll be right here

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lolasimms · 1 year

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Hiii Lola how you've been? Hope you're alright, sweetie, sending love to ya! ♡

I was thinking the other day about modern!abby being outside doing some stuff and immediately sees like a plushie or something that she knows reader would love so she buys it and she is like "I thought about you when I saw this so I bought it, you like it?" Looking at reader with her pretty eyes and a tiny pout on her lips but when reader almost scream of joy she smiles and looks at her all full of love! 💌🧸

– saia ୨୧

Strawberry Shortcake - Abby x reader

Hey Saia, I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to your ask. Thank you for it though <3

Throughout your relationship both you and Abby made it a habit to spontaneously gift each other. It started off when you’d both confessed that one of your many love languages was gift giving, so when you realised she would like your gifting and she vice versa, you both went ham. Though Abby always felt self conscious in the things she’d choose to buy, partly due to her partners in the past always finding her gifts “too considerate” or “too practical.”

You however always loved that whenever Abby bought you something it was straight from the heart. She was never one to buy an item for you simply because of the brand name or the price, she prided herself on knowing you, knowing what you liked. Abby was always considerate, that was evident in all she did for you.

Today like any other, Abby had finished up a few classes and then headed to the store to run some errands. The store cart was filled with vegetables, fruit, a selection of yoghurts, your favourite spreads, rustic loaves and a little bottle of wine. Once she was satisfied, she’d crossed out the items she’d already gotten before heading to the hygiene isle to get the last items on her list. She was a very precise shopper, the kind who had a list and always made sure to stick to it. Unless of-course, she saw something that you might like.

So when she mistakenly took the wrong turn into the toys and plushies isle, her attention was immediately diverted when she spotted a strawberry shortcake plushie that just screamed you. All thoughts of going off the list were thrown out the window when she imagined the look on your face when you see the plushie of your favourite cartoon character. The one that you’d told her so much about. She even remembers the time you’d excitedly made her watch a few episodes when you found out it had gone to streaming.

She grabbed the soft plushie taking in its bright red hair, rosy cheeks, scattered freckles. She was cute and sweet, just like you her little strawberry. Once she’d gotten home she felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling within her stomach. She was sure you’d love it, but she always had the tendency to second guess herself.

“I’m back!” She calls out, placing the crotchet grocery bag you’d made for the house, on the kitchen island before moving into the living area to find you.

“Hey baby.” You smile, lying on the couch with your laptop across your legs. You shut it, before making your way over to her. Her arms are suspiciously folded behind her back, but you ignore that and wrap your arms around her neck.

“I might’ve gotten you something.” She gives you that cute shy smile she always does when she’s done something sweet.

“Abby, you know you don’t have to always get me stuff whenever you leave the house!” You squeak, pinching her reddening cheeks and then kissing them.

“I know, but I wanted to. I really think you’ll like it.” She removes her hands from behind her back to reveal the plush and immediately you let out an ear piercing squeal.

“Abby!!!! It’s…”

“Strawberry Shortcake.” “STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE.” You both say in unison, yours coming out as more of a scream compared to her calm tone. She’s looking at your face as you take in the plush, just admiring it and she’s so fucking happy that you love it.

“She’s my favourite, I love it sooo much baby!” You’re holding the plush to your chest, jumping up and down and she’s just admiring how sweet and cute you are. Her little strawberry.

C’est inspiré par mon préféré dessin animé Charlotte aux fraise <333333

#abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #reader x abby anderson #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x female reader

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luvmist · 1 year

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GRAVE, PART TWO! ♡ (2.2k) part one.

ao’nung x f! reader.

COMPENDIUM: when secrecy begins to turn potent love into a wilting flower.

WARNINGS: kissing, cussing, fluff and angst.

LOLA SAYS: bit of a necessary filler before the real meat of the story comes into play. i hate this so please leave some constructive criticism. reblogs are also deeply appreciated.

your hands tremble as you intertwine three strands of dried sea grass together. your breathing ragged, as another piercing gash of pain struck though your chest. alone on the sand, in the dark. wondering how it had all lead to this. crying harder, you tug the necklace off your throat — shells and stones came flying off as well as the clasp. you stare at what you’ve done. then, you stand. leaving the remains of it on the shore. the waves will take it, as they took him. it was all over now.

but i’m getting ahead of myself. allow me to divulge into the ever so tumultuous tale of how you got yourself here, in the first place.

“marek? fucking, marek?” ao’nung was pissed.

“what was i supposed to say? it was the best i could come up with.” so were you.

“sure, or here is an idea. you could’ve told them the damn truth!” ao’nungs most favoured eminent statement he had repeated perhaps a dozen times within the precedent nine minutes.

this fight wasn’t going anywhere.

you’d never seen ao’nung so livid. typically, in times of conflict — he was relaxed. composed and stoic. staring down his opposer and indulging in ample beats to elect his proceeding words. now, he was agitated. sweating, rasping, desperately imploring you to hear him. to see him.

you had other ideas. “i won’t ao’nung. i won’t lose my family.” his face creased in a despicable manner. he was aching. “i cannot take what i did back. i know this. but please. your family will come around. they must.” his fists were clenched. his gaze, full of self loathing. it was like he was trying to convince himself. he wasn’t that bad, was he? “ao’nung. look at me.” you interject. he does. “i told you what this was from the start. we die with this. if you want me. you can only have me in secret.” his anger arose once more. “that does not mean you had to go and tell your brothers that you are with marek.” he spoke the boys name as if it were venomous. seething with refutation. his jaw was clenching. he was huffing. moving closer. “i could not have said anything else. telling them the necklace was from tsireya or kiri would not have explained the secrecy.” your eyes brimmed with tears. silence filled the marui. he put his big, calloused hands on your face. bringing you closer. you looked up at him. “fine. we’ll make it work then.” he strained. his words were hollow. desperate, meaningless words from a tired man. his face discredited his truce and underlined the falseness of his acceptance. anguished words from a despaired boy. clinging so urgently to what you had. to you. he was lying. he didn’t want to do this anymore. yet, you mirrored him. you as well, were a demoralised and exhausted girl. thus, you professed. made as if you gave him any credence, and nodded. he pressed his lips to yours — hard. an affirmation, an alleviation. to the grave. why did this feel like goodbye?

contrary to ao’nungs hellish distate, marek was a decent guy. excellent hunter, friendly, cordial. much esteemed by the metkayina. most importantly, he possessed the approval of your family. telling neteyam you and marek were courting was a rash decision. while listening to your siblings ululate and whoop at the counterfeit communiqué was insufferable — the consequences of this aforementioned action bore far heavier consequences. for starters, after the festivities took place, you had to go find marek. explain the situation, get him on board and cross your fingers in a slumbering prayer that he would keep your secret. to summarise it briefly — it went a little like this.

“huh? you told your family what now?” marek’s amusement should have served as reassurance, but it was rather aggravating given the position you were in. “yes, okay. i understand this situation may seem ridiculous, comical even. but i need to know if you’ll help me.” you reply curtly. “i don’t know, yn. might ruin my good boy reputation. being seen around with a fire cracker like yourself.” his side smile faltered when he saw the look of pure defeat you had plastered on your face. he could tell too, you were incredibly tired. “i’ll do it.” he nodded. a sigh of relief you didn’t know you had been holding escaped your lips and for the first time in hours, you allowed your shoulders to slump. “thank you, shit. thank you.” when you opened your eyes you were met with a peculiar peer. marek had stopped polishing the ilu riding geer, and stilled his hands. “look i know it’s none of my business but are you sure your family will–” you don’t let him finish, “marek. please. don’t.” he nods again in acknowledgement, this time looking at his feet. “so you’ll really do it?” you break the silence. marek’s bright smile returns on cue, “sure, i have some time to kill.” grateful, you hug him. he returns it with one arm, rubbing the small of your back. you really needed a hug.

the lie was told. you, marek and a very frustrated ao’nung set some ground rules. a summary is of this is simply unecessary because the vast majority of the interaction consisted of you pushing at ao’nungs chest to keep his fist away from a chipper and upbeat marek. he made sure to mumble “fuckin’ hate perky people” four times not so under his breath. a little to release, and you think a little to underline how different him and marek were. a silent hope that you’d forever prefer him over the boy. you would. oh, but if only others would too.

invites and redundant swooning flooded the next week of your life like a fountain of torment unleashed of restriction. a new pair, one day to be mated. how dazzling. you quite literally wanted to disappear. your siblings, always insisting you bring marek along to any given activity they could possibly conjure into existence. neteyam and lo’ak were keen from the beginning, but there was conflict between you and kiri after the data disclosure. justly, she was upset you hadn’t told her. it took her a few days to get over it.

during hang outs, marek would sling an arm over your shoulder, stand next to you. that’s as much physical contact as ao’nung was willing to allow. although, willing is rather potent term. ao’nung kept his eyes locked on you both every minute of it. watching neteyam laugh with marek, his jealousy spiked. neteyam was all over marek, eager to get acquainted with his little sister’s future mate. making brotherly jokes, asking questions, getting protective and warning marek that if he hurt you he’d tie his tail into a knot. all ao’nung could think was that it should be him. it should be him getting to know your family, it should be him with him with an arm around you, laughing as kiri told him your embarrassing childhood stories. despite insisting to be there every time you were all together, he wouldn’t say a word. chest puffed up and arms crossed. his eyes full of something noxious. regret, envy, pain. a lethal combination. to say the least, the lie was difficult to keep up with.

marek was a good sport. he was extroverted, likeable and easy to communicate with. all qualities that ao’nung did not possess. marek was amiable. organically positive, a light hearted guy. particularly good spirited. you couldn’t stand him. the urge to roll your eyes every time his affable dialogue erupted into song with absolutely each and every person you would cross paths with was becoming unfathomably ardent. finally, the walk of shame had come to it’s termination. you had arrived at your marui. “well, i think today went good.” marek smiled at you. you thought you might vomit. shame, poor boy. “yeah. thank you again.”

when eclipse ultimately came to beckon the day to its end, you were finally freed. lying on ao’nungs chest. his tact felt so different. he was always so, so tense. heartbeat racing, not with excitement — but with the turbulence of his distress. you let your fingers graze over his stomach. he had lost weight. guilt plagued your heart. “what is this doing to us?” you whispered into his skin. he looked down at you. his churning countenance causing your eyebrows to furrow. “you only look good with me.” he stated sternly. his lips were in a tight line. “i know that. you think i enjoy this? any of it? i can’t stand guys like marek. you don’t need to convince me.” you say. exasperated. pretending there were no problems only indented a void between the two of you. ao’nungs eyes soften for the first time in what feels like forever. he sits up, and by effect of aftermath, you do too. “thank, eywa!” he gasps, throwing his head back and laughing. how you missed that booming, boyish laugh. “i was worried, my love. worried that you might end up preferring him. i know i am not as he is.” you smiled sweetly, the reverberations of that energy were ramified with the saccharine gesture of ao’nung smiling back at you. “are you kidding? do you have any idea how thankful i am that you are not as he is? i never would have fallen in love with you.” ao’nung tilted his head as he listened. his eyes glazed with honeyed affection. “walking with him is the worst part–” you stop to giggle, “that boy is friends with everyone! he is nice to people he is not even close with. honestly a nightmare.” ao’nung releases a content sigh. “so you would not rather a go lucky boyfriend like him?” he asks, a glint of insecurity shimmering behind his smile. “never that.” you rub the back of his wrist reassuringly. you feel his hands under your thighs as he tugs you onto his lap. “yeah?” he was smirking now. you put your hands around his neck, playing with the baby curls at the back of his scalp. “you are my only.” he kissed you, he kissed you like a man starved. his tongue evoking the stars to descend and decorate your cheeks. you stayed like this, bathing in the shine of being alive in one another. but eywa had different plans. your limbs entangled as he hauled you into his feathered rib cage, inking his finger prints into your torso — the actions were possible, passionate. but for how much longer still? he was growing tired. his bones were withering from the rotting burden of secrecy.

that following afternoon, carving drift wood by the docks. neteyam was sat beside you, as he skilfully engraved shapes into the pot he was sculpting, he spoke. “listen, about marek.” you rolled your eyes. marek was all anyone wanted to talk about. “are you sure about him?” neteyam finished. you snapped you head in his direction. “what? i thought you liked the guy.” you all but exclaimed. “i do.” he responds cooly. “then what’s this about?” you demand again. “i don’t know, just doesn’t seem like your kind of guy. that’s all. always saw you with someone a little more–” “standoffish?” you inquire. “i was going for reserved. but i guess standoffish, sure. a guy who values exclusivity. someone less… approachable? you were always fond of feeling special.” you raised your eyebrows. your brother knew you well. “but as long as you’re happy, yn. honest. just remember picking a mate doesn’t have to be about making us happy.” you smiled. a true, warm smile. “thank you, brother.”

you pressed a kiss to his cheek. and flew to your feet. you had to find ao’nung. running past the docks and through, you finally reached the peer. you spot him. standing in the water with a tsurak. stroking the animal’s spiked spine. and making his calling sounds, probably attempting to attract more. he had riding geer slung over his shoulder. when you reach the water the splashing makes him turn. “ma ao’nung!” his face scrunches up before he’s catching you mid fall. what were you doing here, hands on him, in broad day light? “i have an idea.” you beamed. “we’re going to tell them?” ao’nung lit up with hope. “what? no way. i was just thinking i could end things with marek now. i have an excuse.” ao’nung didn’t attempt to hide his disappointment. turning his body away from you he let out a passive “ah.” you pulled away from him too. “thought you’d be happy.” it came out a lot more aggressive than you meant it to. “i’m sick of this now.” his voice became low. he was practically growling. “don’t be that way, come on.” you press a kiss to the side of his mouth. he was about to say something, when suddenly his eyes widened. horror, relief, shock. and horror again. you shifted to look where he was looking. tsireya. tsireya holding a basket full of shells not 3 feet away from both of you on the shore, her mouth was agape in stupefaction. her jaw may as well have hit the sand. with a thump, she drops the basket. and dashes to her left. you and ao’nung swiftly snap your heads to look at each other. shit. what now?

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valentiyne · 8 months

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𝗅𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗉 ꕥ 𝖺𝗌𝗁𝗍𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗇

Boxer!Ashton Irwin x Fem!Reader @bartxnhood Summary: Wrong place right time or right place wrong time? A/n: This is a work of fiction: I am aware Ashton is a sweetheart Warnings: A-hole Ashton, Major swearing Word Count: 2k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

Irwin vs. Hemmings

Tonight 6pm @ The Lola

My ears were ringing from the loud shrill of the bell above me. There were numerous people in the makeshift ring in front of me, but two of them caught my camera's attention: One guy with shaggy brown hair and hazel eyes, and the other being blonde with piercing blue orbs staring into the crowd. My camera hung around my neck, gripped into my hands to ensure It wouldn't fall in any way.

"In this corner, we have Dr. Flukeeeee", The crowd goes wild once the blue-eyed boy walks into the middle of the ring, beating his chest. I raise my camera quickly to snap a few photos, making sure I have every perfect angle.

The people around me towered over me, my hair pulled back into two tight braids with bows at the ends, and the minimal clothing I wore to try and fit in. There was no way anyone would believe I belonged here- I was a college student who had an assignment to capture an "adrenaline high" photograph with an unexpected muse.

"And in this corner, we have Smashtonnnn Irwinnnn!", The referee shouts into the microphone, the crowd jumping up and down as the shaggy-haired boy walks forward with a mere smirk on his face. He seemed modest about the situation, his body relaxed and his eyes filled with confidence and determination. I end up sandwiched between two older men, my camera squished up against my chest and I try and get a good look at the two.

The two boys set themselves in position, their mouthguards tucked away in their mouths before the bell goes off once again.

The blonde is the first to move, stepping forward and throwing a right jab at the brunette. In return, He jumps back and begins circling around his opponent with locked eyes. They're both breathing quickly, sweat dripping down their foreheads and backs.

The brunette throws a left hook, his bare fist colliding with the blonde's jaw, sending him flat on his back. The crowd collectively let out gasps and I inch my way through the crowd, squeezing my way to the front. I reached the front of the wave of people, my camera raised up high and taking as many shots as I possibly could get being this close. The blonde stands back up, staggering slightly as he regains his balance and spits out a mouthful of blonde.

"Oh my god", I whisper to myself, looking around at the sea of people shouting nonsense and threats to one another. A few threw money at the judges, betting on the two and who'd knock each other out first. I couldn't tear my eyes away, no matter how much I wanted to. The sight before me was gorey- blood combined with sweat or spit laid out on the floor.

I took as many pictures as my storage card allowed before lowering the camera right as the brunette walked toward his corner and sat down. His face was mangled, blood dripping from his mouth and nose and all over his white uniform. I stood directly behind him now, his back shining from the bright LED standing light. His crew sprayed water in his mouth and patted him down with cold towels, screaming insults at him to get his adrenaline flowing. I look up at him, his eyes averting from the ring and to his coach who crouched next to him and spoke in his ear. His head immediately swung back and his hazel eyes locked with mine for a moment, a puzzled look on his face as he looked between me and the crowd.

The bell rings one last time, signaling the last match is beginning and he tears his eyes from mine quickly and stands up while shoving his bloodied mouth guard back into his mouth. He stumbles his way back into the middle of the ring, his body begging to drop but he continues forward. The blonde throws a jab, missing the brunette by mere inches. He takes this as an opportunity and swings quickly, his bare fist colliding with the other's jaw with a loud crack.

The bell dings multiple times indicating that the brunette has won the match.

The crowd erupts around me, pushing my body forward harshly and I have to huddle myself around the camera to protect it. Everyone shouted nonsense towards the ring, the blonde laying face down as blood poured out of his lips and nose- he was alive thankfully but was unconscious.

The bodies swarmed around me, chanting the last name of the winner and I could feel myself get pulled further down and towards the cold concrete beneath me. I attempted to balance myself, putting one hand on my camera and the other in front of me incase I did go down.

I suddenly feel a pair of calloused hands wrap around my underarms, pulling me harshly upwards back onto my feet, and through the crowd. My camera dangles around my neck and my body gets pulled forward, leading me towards an unmarked hallway. It was too dark to see, my head spinning as I try and collect my thoughts and make out what was going on.

Am I seriously being kidnapped right now?

I look down at the hand that was tightly wrapped around my wrist, blood seeping through the gauze wound around it and down my wrist. I look up now, my eyes meeting with the familiar hazel ones from before.

"What are you doing?", I finally ask, tugging my hand from his reach. He winces slightly as my hand drags across his own, retracting his quickly and furrowing his eyebrows at me.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?" His voice is hoarse, slipping out from his lips like sandpaper.

I look at him taken back, eyes wide as I cross my arms over my chest and try my hardest not to breathe in the overwhelming smell of metal that was coming from his figure.

"Excuse me?", I scoff, holding up my camera at him with a smug expression coming from my face. "I'm taking pictures"

"Well sweetheart, I didn't pay for a fucking personal photographer," He snatches the camera from my grip and examines it for a moment before slipping the storage card from its rightful place and dropping it to the floor.

"And I sure as hell didn't pay for a fucking cheerleader." He raises his foot slightly and stomps it down on the ground, destroying the card right in front of me.

"What the fuck", I gasp and reach down quickly, his foot gently pushing on my hand to stop me from reaching any further. I groan and stand up again, leaning down to grab his hand tightly in my own.

"What the hell", He hisses and attempts to pull his hand back, earning my other hand to grab ahold of it.

"Why did you curb-stomp my SD card, asshole." He laughs now, his shoulder raises into a mere shrug before he tears his hand from mine. He takes the small towel from around his neck and wipes beads of sweat from his forehead, his eyes locked on mine for a few moments before speaking,

"A girl like you shouldn't be at an illegal match like this- and certainly not taking fucking photographs while she does it."

I blink in response, watching his every move before he sighs and takes a step back to run his bruised hands through his hair,

"Look, I'm sorry I broke your shit. I just don't need you involved in this and being a witness to the brutal shit that goes on in here," He motions to the crowd of people that were chanting his name just a few doors over. I cross my arms over my chest again, narrowing my eyes at him,

"You just ruined my final for my photography class, hope it makes you feel any better", I bend down, scooping up the remains of my once full storage card and placing the remnants into my back pocket. He stares at me dumbfounded, looking between me and my camera before his lip is pulled in by his teeth,

"I'll make it up to you, just not tonight."

I scoff once more, raising a hand to flip him off before turning on my heel and making my way back the way we came. The crowd seemed to be growing louder by the second, with numerous people screaming that the cops were coming and I stopped dead in my tracks. The brunette's hand stops me once more, this time a gentle grip loosely encasing my own.

Pop Pop Pop

We both flinch now, his eyes darting behind me as the crowd begins screaming louder. From what I could gather, someone had shot the gun in the air.

"Don't go out that way," He pleads, his eyebrows relaxed on his face and the smell of blood only growing stronger with every step closer he takes.

"Just get me the hell out of here," I plead.

The brunette led me down the maze of a hallway, his hand hovering over my lower back as we sped walked together. My heart was beating out of my chest, ears still ringing loudly, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see him turning around every few moments to make sure no one was following us both.

He pushes through the heavy metal doors with a hard shoulder shove, motioning me to exit first. The air was cold, and I could hear the police sirens growing closer and closer. The man in front of me remained calm, almost as if he's gone through this every night now- which he probably does.

"Did you drive here?", He asks quickly, scanning the parking lot for any sign of a car that could've been mine.

I sigh softly, looking back at him with a deadpanned gaze. He groans in annoyance and grabs my upper arm quickly, jogging through the alleyway and towards his truck.

"You must be stupid if you think I'm getting in a car with a stranger," I halt in place, looking up at him with an emotionless expression.

"My name is Ashton, now get in the fucking truck before the cops arrest us both," He opens the passenger door of his truck harshly, letting go of my arm and jogging to his side. I slide into this passenger seat quickly, my feet clambering over the mountain of beer cans on the floor. If I had any time to spare, I'd bitch about the uncleanliness of the truck but Ashton climbing in after me and reversing out of the alleyway tore me from my thoughts.

"Holy shit, Ashton", I gasp and fumble with my seatbelt, clicking it in place and giving it a good tug as he swerves onto the main road. The sirens were only growing louder and I could see his bruised knuckles tightly gripped against the steering wheel, blood trickling down his arms and staining the cloth seats. His eyes focused on the road, not worrying about the flashing lights of blue and red that were now behind us.

"Ash-" I begin, my hands holding onto the handlebar above me with one hand while my other grabbed his forearm to steady myself as he weaved in and out of lanes.

"Stop", He said firmly, looking over at me in his passenger seat with a frightened look on my face.

And for the first time tonight- He smiles at me.

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