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Darkness helps us all to shine

Dark necessities are part of my design

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HARRY

"You know the rules for tonight?" Luna asked.

Fuck it if I cared about some rules. She had blackmailed me into leaving London and moving out to California to be her little speedster.

"I don't give a fuck." I tell her, reaching for a beer. "I'm here, unfortunately. I'll do what you want."

"If you drink that I swear to god-" she stops herself, inhaling sharply before standing and ripping the bear out of my hands. "I'm going to repeat the rules for you so you understand what's at risk if you break them."

I roll my eyes at her, letting her take the beer from me. She drags me back to the seat where the other guy with the tan skin and curly hair is standing, waiting for me to sit and tattoo me.

"If you race for the gang, you're part of the gang. You need the ink to legitimize it." She tells me when I groan at the thought of getting yet another tattoo. "Apollo's good at his job. Just shut up and let him do it." She snaps.

Apollo, the tattoo artist was silent when Luna spoke. His eyes stayed focused on my hand, the light vibration of the tattoo gun the soundtrack to our conversation. "This might hurt a bit man. Sensitive skin I'm tatting here." He warns.

"If it hurts enough you'll hear a moan." I reply, and he laughs a bit muttering something about not kink shaming anyone. I was a sucker for pain... it meant I felt something and anything was better than nothing. I never let people inflict in on me though... that would require giving up control and I was too much of a control freak for that. Plus, I'd be betraying every dominant bone in my body asking a partner to hurt me... and most people wouldn't be willing to.

"Harry. Pay attention." Luna snapped at me. "Rules are easy. Don't crash into anyone unless provoked, don't get caught, and fucking win."

"Where's the rule that required me to have the entire setup of my car rearranged?" I say, clearly annoyed. Luna made sure to make sure my car was up to American standards so instead of driving on the right side of the car my wheel was on the left. I was ambidextrous and a fantastic fucking driver so I didn't mind, but I hadn't seen Arlo yet and if that fucking job destroyed my prized possession let's just say I was armed for a reason.

Yes, my car's name is Arlo, and yes, I have the name tattooed on my arm.

Champions deserve recognition.

"That's not a rule. It's the law, prick." She scoffs, and Apollo laughs as I let out a low pleasurable groan at the stinging sensation of the tattoo gun piercing my knuckle.

"Whore." Luna winks at me, and I bite my lip, leaning back a little more and spreading my legs to get comfortable. Apollo keeps his focus on the tattoo, one final prick to my knuckle before standing up.

Luna watches me for a moment, eyes running over my body and lingering over my crotch. These jeans were a little tight and the fact that the tattoo gun was bumping into my bone hurt so badly I couldn't help but get hard. Luna's sharp jaw clenched when she noticed and I couldn't hold back an arrogant smirk. Apollo kept his eyes to himself, which was in his best interest. 

"I'm done." He announces, standing up and packing his shit. Luna gives him a few bucks and tells him that she'd see him tonight. She had told me he was one of her better racers.

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