Bucky Barnes Tattoo Novels & Stories

I couldn’t focus on what he was saying at all, my attention completely stolen by his bare chest. I couldn’t help but notice the armband tattoo on his left arm. The word “Moretti” was inked in a beautiful Old English font, with detailed lines making it look even cooler. His tattoos just added to that tough, masculine vibe he had going on. Then I saw the tattoo on his back. A raven, placed right in the middle of his back, near his shoulders and neck. It was so well done, I couldn’t stop staring at it, totally impressed.

His chest and shoulders showed most of this and as usual his perfect six pack stomach never failed to make me want to lick my lips. I had left my blinds halfway up to get some of the cool night air and there was a fair amount of light coming through from the street lights. In it I could see the reflection of Mark's back in my bureau mirror. Mark had gotten a summer bonus from the construction company he had been working with and had gotten an enormous Baphomet tattoo that covered just about his entire back. My parents had freaked, however not as much as they would when they eventually saw the smaller version that Mark had paid for me to get on the small of my back. The tattoo was less than t

I’m starting to think I need medical intervention. “The tattoo’s almost done,” Knox says, giving me that knowing smile that means he can read every dirty thought crossing my face. “Want to see it?” I get up slowly, my legs still a little unsteady, and walk over to where he’s lying. When I’m close enough to see his back clearly, I stop short. Spread across the entire width of his back, rendered in bold black ink, is a large bunny. Complete with long ears and everything. This isn’t what I expected at all.

The love of my life. Silvy The day after Goof proposed and claimed me he took me to Tank's tattoo shop to get my mark. Was I nervous? Hell yes. I was nervous about the entire process. Tank, bless the gentle giant, let me bring Ant in with us. Ant was a hit at the shop. I was a little worried the receptionist might not give him back. It took Tank forty five minutes to finish the work on my shoulder. According to Goof that is the least sexy part of my body. Did it burn? Sure. But not as bad as I thought it would be. I wanted to see what it looked like. Tank stood me in front of his mirror. It was amazing. It looked my the Renegades emblem with a motorcycle driving through the middle of it. A

I was so speechless, I just jumped on him and he winced, the tattoo was still hurting a bit. My fingers traced another ink one on his shoulder, he got this one after his dad died, in memory of him. "Do you always do this when I'm asleep" Bryne's husky voice jolts me back and I quickly remove my hand from his chest. He frowns and sits up, resting his back on the headboard. He yawns and stretches. I gulp, watching his thick muscle extends and flexes. "Come here" I nod and crawl to his arms obediently. He draws circles on my back and hums an inaudible tune.

We get out of the car and start walking on the sidewalk, "I do like her, but I don't want her to know." "Okay," I roll my eyes. "Are you going to get a tattoo with us, General?" Hunter asks, opening the door to 'Zander's Greatness'. My father shakes his head. "Nah. I'll wait for you guys at that bar,” he points, “While you get your little drawings done." Zander is a bald man covered in ink who has done ten of my tattoos. My favorite ones, the ones that mean the most to me. This time, Hunter and I get the date of our departure tattooed just below the tattoo we got last year, which is the same, just a date. Small and simple.

She had to use all her willpower not to let the sip of chocolate drip out of her mouth as she looked at Bane. He had taken a shower and was dressed in dark blue sleep pants in some silky material that hung low on his hips, showing off his toned upper-body. It was the first time Emma had seen him shirtless and, even though she knew he was muscular, nothing had prepared her for the black tattoos that covered his torso and arms to below his elbows. She had never understood the fascination with tattoos until that moment. She had an urge to run her fingers along them.

Then he gestured his hand towards our back. "I'm Thunder." Then she leaned on the wall. "I'm Boston." I took a glance at the guy who talked to Rhyme earlier. A tattooed man. He shifted his position, then he pointed his shoulder. He shoved his black shirt to show me his BRIT tattoo, the fifth that I saw in his skin based on my quick count as I scanned his arms. I was stunned after realizing that Rhyme also had that on his wrist. But the guy named Boston had it in his right arm and it was bigger. I nodded to myself.

There were nine loud claps in unison. I took my shirt off and straddled the chair Marcus indicated, leaving my back open to his artistic hands. The rotary machine in his hand buzzed to life and I knew my life would never be the same again. “Are those bullet wounds?” Patrick asked me as they watched Marcus inking a specialized Zeta tattoo on my back. “Yes.” “How did you get them?” he asked me. “I got shot.” Loud laughter erupted in the basement.

And that did the job, he snatched away the fake ID from me and walked away angrily. I noticed the tattooed man staring at me now while sipping his drink slowly, fuck! He’s so hot. He looked so manly in a suit which suggests that he is either a businessman or a body guard to some rich men. But on a second thought, body guards don’t wear such expensive accessories all over him. I can recognize his ring form here.