Eddie is sat cross-legged on the floor of his trailer, needle clutched between his fingers, the faint scent of rubbing alcohol mixing with the ever-present smell of cigarette smoke.

“You sure about this?” he asks, giving you one of his playful, charming grins, though his eyes hold a glimmer of genuine concern. “Once I start, you’re stuck with whatever my artistic genius creates forever.”

This isn’t the first time you’ve given each other tattoos, Eddie adores your little doodles that are etched on his skin. His body is your canvas, after all. “You figured out what you’re going to give me yet?” he hums as he preps your skin, “Or am I going to end up with another dragon?”