Booktok Tattoos Novels & Stories

I just saw a angel and crushed on him, and now a devil am I crushing on? I look away from him, to the wall. Just at the last moment to rejecting staying in this room, I see different picturesque sketches of book covers and at the far southern side is a small shelf, loaded with romantic books, of different sub-genres. I am fantasied already, and warmed. I feel cozy suddenly. The tattooed guy is a lover of books. "Did you make those, uh?" I say when I get to his front, forcing him to blink up at me. He's slide off the headphone.

Chapter 7 "Here it is," Levi said, pulling out a book from the shelf, which read, "The moonlit pack alongside the Same logo on my shoulder. "That's it, it's the exact same" I said, dragging down my shirt off my left shoulder revealing the tatoo. • • • • • • •

But the way Knives looked at me, you would think he just won the jackpot. “Sweetheart,” he groaned, his whiskey voice making me shiver in delight. “Your wish is my command...” He stood and, without hesitating, he took off his T-shirt. And for once, I didn’t look away, but instead, I took in everything he had to offer. His tattoos were gorgeous. Most of them were skulls, knives, and motorcycles, but I also liked the angles and the roses. They all melted together and perfectly led from one act to the next, telling the story of a boy who became an MC VP. And of course, the centerpiece was the snarling wolf and the moon, with the name of his club.

But she… didn’t flinch. Lena walked over to a little table display and picked up a thin, cloth-bound book. She walked over to him, holding it out like an offering. *The Quiet Between Lightning Strikes.* A poetry book. The cover was old and nubbly, the title scribbled in fine silver ink. Julian stared at it like it was an alien thing. "What's this?" "A book," she said, smiling. "I told you. I don't—"

“Bunch of obnoxious, inhumanly attractive, muscled up cavemen.” Seriously, Knight looked like some kind of Playboy fallen angel with his sculpted ass and body stacked with hard muscle. I scanned his numerous tattoos. There was a pack of hungry wolves on one of his arms, surrounded by trees and vines full of thorns. Across his chest was the night sky and aurora borealis, and wrapping around his stomach were wisps of smoke, or shadow, that trailed upwards until they blended into the darker ink.

A task she had neglected this past week, until today. She’d been at the library for a few hours searching for anything remotely about “self-appearing tattoos” and “burning tattoos.” The worst article stated that a person who had a tattoo suddenly appear was marked by the devil and was an instrument of evil. She discounted it, even though it still bothered her. She had never been one to think mean or evil thoughts, nor she had never done anything evil or mean to another person in her life. So, she reasoned, the description didn’t fit her situation.

I carry my face from his chest slowly and carefully, not to wake him up I roll over and lie on my side. I admire his sinful beauty, if I can just touch it once more. That's right I can touch it, after all he's sleeping. I flatten my palm on his chest and feel each rhythmic movement his chest makes when he breathes. I outline his body with my hands, over the six divisions on his belly to the tattoo on his chest. I remember when he got that, I came back tired from the classes I had and he came into my house grinning like he just won a lottery. He made me close my eyes, trust me I still cheated, opening my eyes slightly to try to take peaks of whatever surprise he was bringing up. When I opened

She clutched the slim book in her hand, standing on her toes and leaning towards him. "Are you?" He put a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back. "Fine. Yes, I am. Satisfied?" She chuckled, throwing her head back slightly, before her gaze darted to the book and her laughter trailed off. The image that was drawn on the book looked really similar. Three lines drawn from the center to three different angles, with their ends curled. Ah! She remembered. Wasn't this the Capital's tattoo?

My eyes drifted down to his torso, and my breath caught. God must have enlisted his finest artist to carve Killian Knight. The tattoo, a haunting web of thorned vines, began at his right hip and sprawled across his torso. Its black branches reached his heart, with another branch peeking over his left shoulder and spreading down his arm to his elbow. The intricate design, hidden beneath his clothes, was now fully exposed.

The girl behind the counter had a nose ring and purple hair, and she lit up at the sight of Tyler. “Lavender iced latte, please. Oat milk,” I said. She glanced down at Tyler, who was sitting like a statue at my heel. “For you, or him?” I grinned. “Definitely me. He’s more of a peanut butter guy.” Drink in hand, I snagged a corner table near the window and let Tyler curl up beside me. He rested his head on my foot like a warm, breathing slipper. I pulled out the latest BookTok darling from my backpack—the one with the cover everyone was blushing over—and flipped to where I’d left off.