Patrick Stump/Fall Out Boy Imagines

[PETE] Getting A Tattoo

(From Never Say Never, originally titled "You'll Never...Get A Tattoo")

You're driving in the car with Pete. Your heart is pounding against your chest and you're finding it difficult to breathe. He looks over at you and smirks, taking one hand off of the steering wheel and placing it on your thigh in an attempt to calm your nerves.

"I'm so nervous, Pete," You confess to him, beginning to tap your foot incessantly.

"I'll be right beside you the whole time, (Y/N), it'll be alright," He reassures you. You give him a weary smile. He pulls into the parking lot and turns the car off, getting out. You stay in your seat, seat belt strapped over your chest.

Pete stops at the front door of the parlor, realizing you're not behind him or by his side, and looks back. He heaves a sigh and walks back to the car, opening the passenger car door and resting his arm on the top of it. "Do I need to bring the tattoo guy out here?"

You shake your head no.

"Then come on." He unbuckles the seat belt for you and takes a step back so you can get out. You hesitantly get out of the car. "It doesn't hurt that bad," He tells you as he interlocks his fingers with yours and drags you inside of the tattoo parlor against your will.

"Pete! My man!" The guy behind the counter exclaims, "What're you here for this time?"

"I'm actually not getting a tattoo today," He glances down at you and smiles, "My  girlfriend, (Y/N), is." Your cheeks blush a deep red.

"Awesome," The man says, making eye contact with you which you immediately try to avoid, "What d'ya want?"

"I-I don't know," You mutter, keeping your gaze directed towards your feet.

"Well, here," He pulls out a thick binder from under the desk and sets it down on the counter, pushing it towards you, "It's a catalogue of all the tattoos we do here. Flip through it and see if there are any that catch your eye. Or if you  have an idea that isn't in there, just tell me and I can get a  reference and sketch it for ya."

"Thanks, man," Pete retorts, picking up the binder and taking you over to a leather couch, where you both sit down. You slip your hand out of his and watch over his shoulder as he flips through the pages, pointing out tattoos here  and there that he'd think you like.

"Ooh!" You exclaim, pointing to a spider, "What if I got the Danger Days spider?"

"The Danger Days spider?"

"Yeah. You know, from My Chemical Romance?"

"Yeah, I know what the Danger Days  spider is. But you really want it?" You shrug your shoulders. "Well if you want that, then go for it," He grins, "Just remember that tattoos are permanent. Once you get it, it's there forever."

"Wow. Thanks, Pete," You  say sarcastically. "You know, I don't even want to do this anymore." You close the catalogue. "Take me home."

"No. There's no going back, (Y/N). You're doing this, you said you would."

"I know what I said," You glare at him, standing up and walking over to the man to tell him what you want for your tattoo. He looks up the image, makes sure it's  the right one, and prints out a reference, sketching it up and showing  you it, making sure it's to your liking. You're in too deep to say no, so you nod your head yes.

You're seated in one of  the chairs, facing down since you were going to get this tattoo on your right shoulder blade on your back. The tattoo artist and Pete sit on your sides, Pete holding your hand.

You hear the buzzing of the needle and shortly after the needle begins to rapidly penetrate your skin like a bunch of bee stings. You wince in pain and squeeze Pete's hand tightly, pressing your lips together tightly so you don't scream.

About an hour later, the tattoo artist announces he's done and lets you have a look at it. You  walk over to a mirror and face away from it. You glance over your shoulder.

"What do you think?" Pete asks as the artist starts to clean things up. The artist looks back at you, anticipating your response.

"I love it," You reply genuinely, admiring the tattoo artist's work.