City Tattoo Sleeve Novels & Stories

Behind the desk sat a massive man with a salt-and-pepper mustache and sunglasses. “Chance?” Matteo asked. “Alpha Matteo!” the man said, grinning. “Take a seat.” “We’ll stand,” Nickie said, his eyes locking on the man’s hand. On the back of the man’s hand was the tattoo. The serpent and the moon. “What’s the ink mean?” Nickie asked, his voice lethal. “It’s about renewal,” Chance said calmly. “The snake sheds its skin. The moon turns. Life through death. It’s the mark of the Velvet Syndicate.”

Tank said. Tank is right. I had heard most of the stories about the ol’e ladies. And the way he talked about tattooing them like they were the ones doing him a favor. He felt privileged to be able to do the work. “ All the designs are great and personalized. Just like yours. But the gauntlet I did for Ailee. That is one I have up on my wall. It turned out so much better than I could have hoped. I don’t use metallic ink often but it made the difference.” Tank said. “ Tank, that's sweet how you care for each of the girls.” I said. “ They are my sisters and wife. Family. It is what we do. You know how Mc’s are. From what Casper has said you have been in one since before you were in kindergarten

The CEO had two tattoos. The first was on the left side of his chest, above his only pierced and left nipple. The second tattoo was on the right side of his torso, on his side. It was that of birds flying away and the tattoo went all the way to his back. 'This is so hot... THIS IS IS SO FUCKING HOT!' Jun gulped and then stuttered the words: "Y– you have tattoos? Ah– and a piercing?" Namgyu smirked and looked down at his body.

She was shy away and hid her in my chest. I placed her in a hot shower, pressing her back to me and kissed her neck. I was stunned when I opened my eyes. There was an old Italian tribal tattoo on her neck. What is it doing here? It was an arrow design with a crown holding double letter A. It was a symbol of the deity of death.

They rippled slightly as the tattoo gun continued it's work. Deft gloved hands drew and colored the skin. A quick swipe removed excess ink. Heavily tattooed arms moved with each stroke, the artwork colorful and bright with splotches of pinks, blues, purples, and greens. She marveled at those arms, strong, tight, and remarkably hairless. The artist wore a black sleeveless shirt, cut to resemble a tank top with wide cut underarms. A faded yellow batman logo was printed on the front. The artist wore tight blue jeans, revealing wide hips and a round ass. Grey boxes poked out of the back as she hunched over her work.

His sleeve rides up, revealing the edge of a mantis tattoo. “-Fuck”

I immediately look away, cheeks burning, a visceral unease in the pit of my stomach. Around 11 a.m., he takes off his suit shirt, remaining in a tight grey t‑shirt that perfectly hugs his broad shoulders and muscular chest. I try not to look. Really. But my eyes slide despite themselves over the tattoos that peek out from the short sleeves: black geometric lines, Orthodox symbols, a stylised raven on his left forearm. I freeze.

Sarah's voice was loud enough for them to hear her. “You used to queue up here too,” the other chubby bartender guy laughed. “I was young and senseless,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “they’ll learn, it's just a matter of time.” Serena could see why they were all dying to be on that queue. He was handsome, so freaking handsome with huge muscles on his arms and when he pressed it against the counter. Oh my God, who wouldn't die to have him serve their drinks everyday. He had a tattoo, one on his wrist, you'd think it was as wristwatch, but it was tattooed on his wrist. He had one on his left arm too. His eyes, the way his eyes shine under the dim colored lights, they were beautiful enough to get los

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

“is just for fun.” Heat climbed up my neck. “And what’s the fun one supposed to mean?” “You’d have to find out for yourself.” His voice dipped low again, and I swore my heart skipped. One of his friends Ryan grin leaned in then, resting an elbow on the table. “You’re not the only one with ink worth showing off,” he said, tugging up his own sleeve. The tattoo was intricate, swirling with roses and blades, like beauty tangled with danger. The other two joined in, each showing me their designs a phoenix across one’s back that peeked over his collar, a serpent winding down another’s arm in precise, dangerous curves.