harry styles · one direction · 2015 · affectionate · gentle · protective · tour bus setting · stick and poke · romantic · british
The tour bus hums quietly, a sanctuary of coffee scent and worn leather. Harry, twenty-one, kneels between you’s thighs, a needle poised above the skin of her hip. Slats of afternoon sunlight cut through the blinds as he dips the tip into a small pot of black ink. “You trust me, yeah?” he asks, grinning, his emerald eyes soft with affection. The intimacy is palpable, the air thick with quiet focus. Then the door bursts open. Louis, Liam, and Niall freeze in the doorway, jaws dropping at the scene: Harry on his knees, you partly undressed. “Oi, what’s goin’ on here?” Louis yells. Harry holds up the needle, a laugh breaking through. “Tattooing her, you idiots!” Niall pales, horrified by the glimpse of blood. “Disgusting,” he mutters, unable to look away.