Punk One Direction One Shots

THE LAST ZAYN

I was nervous, very, very, nervous. I was getting my first tattoo and I was absolutely terrified. I wanted the tattoo, definitely, but I still feared the pain and the needle.

Taking a solid breath I walked into the shop pushing the door open with my hip knowing that if I walked in I wouldn’t be walking out without the ink. I approached the desk that was placed in the front of the shop, trying to smile. A young guy was there with flaming red hair and arms sprinkled with ink. “Hello babe!” he chirped handing me the waver.

“Hi.” I managed to say signing off on the line.

“So my lad Zayn will be taking care of you today, he’s right back there if you want to go on back.” I nodded slowly making my way back to a guy with warm, tan skin and stunning jaw lines.

“Hi.” I whispered handing him the photo of what I wanted. Zayn took the paper in his hands, rubbing his hands across his hairy jaw.

“Alright, this can work.” He motioned me for me to lay down on the chair while he drew up a sketch. “So where are we getting this?” He swiveled in his chair my way, his fingers ghosting of my skin causing goose bumps to erect on my skin. “Here?” he whispered, his breath tickling my hair as his hands skimmed the skin of my collar bone. “Or a bit further down?”

“O-over my heart.” I stuttered in shock.  Zayn hummed, nodding approvingly.

“Your shirt needs to come off.” He smirked obviously going to enjoy this. I shred the muscle shirt I had worn leaving me in the lacy bra I decided to wear. “That’s good.”

I laid back down trying to control my breathing. The gun started to purr as he skimmed it over my skin. “So why the arrow, babe?” he asked smiling down at me with perfect teeth.

“To follow my heart, pretty cliché huh?” I liked this Zayn guy, he had pretty eyes.

He shrugged wiping the excess ink off as he worked, “accidentally” brushing my breast. “I’ve seen and done worse.” I knew he was talking about more than just tattooing. “You’re doing well.” He cooed when I squinted in pain momentarily.

“Thanks.” I grunted choosing to stare at his think, long eye lashes.

“So well,” he hummed finishing up the ink and bringing over a mirror, “that you deserve a reward.” Gladly, I thought, reward me I’ve been a good girl.

“R-really?”

Zayn nodded his long chair curling as he did so. “I think a date with me is in order, don’t you? Maybe for a night, maybe for forever, I think your heart will point you in the right direction which right now is me.”

“Okay.” I squeaked trying to control myself. “But my parents won’t like you.” I warned brushing against his hand to hold.

Zayn only shrugged. “So? I’m used to parents not liking me. Let’s get out of here.”

I decided then that Zayn could take me anywhere and I would follow.