Niall: "Are you sure about this?" He asked, eyeing the tattoo needle up with something resembling disdain. "Yup," you were browsing the artists book of his previous work, stunned at how beautiful his work was. "It’s not an intricate tattoo, Ni," you teased, kissing his cheek. He still looked skeptical. He knew this would hurt you and that was the part that bothered him. He didn’t mind tattoos, he had a mind to get a few himself. but the thought of you crying out in pain made him shudder. When the artist asked if you were ready, you hopped up into the chair. Niall moved to yourself,. his blue eyes assessing everything the artist did. He asked fifteen questions of safety and maintenance after the tattoo was complete. You had to smile, he was so adorable when he was worried. You squeezed Niall’s hand as the gun moved to your skin, your jaw tightening. "Just relax, babe, I got you," he hushed, his lips moving over your temple. The man was skilled and made it as painless as possible, but that didn’t mean you didn’t almost break Niall’s fingers from the strength of your grip. He stayed right by you, murmuring soft words in your ear. Your eyes were squeezed shut and Niall watched his progress, keeping you up to date on what was happening. "Almost there, baby," he had to smile, the tattoo looked great and Niall was a little turned on looking at your skin marred with black ink. You looked sexy. He kissed you firmly as the man finished and you blushed. There was no way you would have gotten through this without Niall, he was your rock, your strength. He made everything better just by simply being.
Harry: "I’m so excited," he all but tugged you into the tattoo parlor, your feet scuffling over the cement. He was thrilled that you wanted to get matching tattoos with him. When you told him you’d been thinking about getting one, he immediately made you swear you’d go get it with him. You’d discussed for a while what you wanted to get, giving it a lot of thought. It would be forever. “Just like us,” Harry had said, kissing your brow softly. You tried to laugh it off, but when you saw that he was serious, your heart clenched. He wanted this for all time. So, that’s how you found yourself at the tattoo parlor getting a small heart on your left ring finger, just where Harry was getting his. “So that way,” he had said grinning, “if there’s a time where you can’t wear your engagement ring, you’ll still have something of mine there.” You’d kissed him senseless after that, your lips frantic over his. He’d just smiled, knowing that you were the person he wanted forever. He held your hand as the man pressed the needle into the sensitive flesh of your ring finger. You’d whimpered in protest and Harry was there instantly, his warm hands holding your free one, pressing kisses to your knuckle. It didn’t take long, less than two minutes but your skin throbbed. When it was Harry’s turn, he never even flinched. He grinned at it when it was done and then looked at you. “Forever,” he said softly, eyeing your tattoo. “Forever,” you said back, your lips touching his.
Zayn: You watched him settle into the chair and hold out his left wrist, his brown eyes cool and calm. You were anything but. You’d never seen him get tattooed before and you were nervous. He seemed impervious to the giant needle heading towards his arm and you squealed. He chuckled, taking your hand, “Relax babe, I’m fine.” You forgot that he was a pro at this. How many tattoos did he have now? You weren’t even sure. “You loved them though. There was nothing you loved more than tracing each tattoo and pressing your lips to him. Zayn seemed to mar his skin with the most important things in his life, or his favorite. His tattoos read like a story, showcasing who he really was without words. What we discussed on the phone?” The man said gruffly, bringing the needle to life. Zayn nodded, his eyes on yours. He didn’t tell you what he was getting, he said he wanted to keep it a secret. You watched fascinated as the ink began to spread, a shape taking form. The tip was pointed and it billowed out, almost like a Christmas tree. It wasn’t until you saw the legs on the bottom did you know. “The Eiffel tower?” You questioned, watching the drawing come to life. “That was the first time you told me you loved me,” he smiled softly, his hand squeezing yours. It was the best day of my life and I think about it all the time. I wanted to make it permanent,” you watched in awe as Zayn tattooed you onto his body and into his heart permanently.
Liam: "How bad will this hurt?" He asked the tattoo man nervously. He was eyeing your exposed ribs and he cringed. "It won’t be pleasant," he said back dryly. He thought of the pain he went through with his tattoos and he knew you’d probably cry at some point, he hated knowing that. But you were stubborn and you were insistent on getting this tattoo. He wouldn’t tell you, but he thought it was pretty sexy. You had a few small ones but this one was bigger. You and Liam had fallen in love with the song Strong from the newest album, and you immediately knew you wanted the lyrics on your body. Liam didn’t tell you, but he was getting the rest of the lyrics across his ribs to match yours. You laid down, eyes trained on his face as the needle went into your skin. He saw you flinch and then relax, but the grip you held on the chair was white knuckled. He watched fascinated as he words he wrote appeared on your body, it looked amazing. ‘You make me strong’ was in perfect script across your ribs, just below your bra and Liam was tugging his shirt off as you stood. "I want the line before," he said lying down. The man grinned and set to work and you watched fascinated as Liam marked up his body to match yours. "Doesn’t it hurt?" You asked nervously, watching the way his eyes tightened. He was grinning at you, his hand loosely holding yours. "You make me strong, baby, " he kissed the tips of your fingers and settled back. "I don’t feel anything at all,"
Louis: If you asked Louis who was most important in his life he’d tell you it was his Nan, his mother and his sisters. There was no one who adored them more than he did. He was a mama’s boy to be sure and he had no shame admitting that. He already had his grandparents home number on his chest, but he wanted to do something that highlighted all his best girls. So when he pulled his shirt off and slid into the chair, you smiled at him. You thought it was sweet, what he wanted to do. “Right here, over me heart,” he said to the man, his hand tapping his chest. He had their initials sketched into a tiny heart that would go directly over his own. The guy wasted no time is fussing about and he set too it. It wasn’t a big tattoo, it was fairly small but it was stunning and once his Nan saw this, you knew the tears would start flowing. He didn’t flinch, never even protested as the man worked. He kept his conversation up, barely moving his chest. He seemed relaxed and at ease and just the tiniest bit mischievous. When you watched the last set of initials begin to take place, sealing the heart, you frowned. They weren’t the initials of anyone in his family and that’s when it hit you. “Those are mine,” you breathed, raising your eyes to his. He smiled tenderly at you, all the love he held radiating out. “You’re my best girl too, you know,” he squeezed your hand and you shook your head. “My heart’s not whole without you,” and with that, you watched the tattoo artist finish, your initials sealing Louis’ heart forever.
