Do Not Go Gentle Tattoo Novels & Stories

Then she took a good look at his tattoos. Her gaze traced the ink that stretched across his chest, dark and patterned against his golden skin. The tattoo sprawled over his left pectoral, a fierce black wolf, its eyes red and dangerous, as if it could leap off his skin and bare its fangs at her. The details were breathtaking, each strand of fur etched with perfection.

The sensation of her around me, combined with the sting of the tattoo, sends an overwhelming rush of pleasure through me. With each careful stroke of the needle, she traces a new design onto my chest. The symbol, unique and powerful, reflects the merging of our lives. Her concentration is intense, but I can see the love in her eyes, feel it in the way her body moves against mine. This mark isn’t just for the world to see; it’s a testament to us—our bond, our passion, our forever.

What do you think? — That's perfect for me! — I answer and caress his face. [...] — Ouch, that hurts, Bunny! - he complains as I quickly rub his back. — Sorry Pussycat! — I say and run my hands lightly along his back. I notice his tattoo, a well-drawn font with the words "Always Come Back". — Tell me something... What is the meaning of this tattoo? — I made it to remind me of who I really am, and not to forget my origins, and that I will always have somewhere to go back to. After I made it, my life took a different course...

Blake’s expression has shifted from casual to professional the moment the conversation turned to work. I sighed. “I want to get the skin on my boobs tattooed. Around my nipples, I want to write ‘suck on it.’ I also want the word ‘smack’ tattooed on my butt cheeks, and on my thigh near my pussy, I want to have ‘touch me’ written.” I explained. Blake nodded. “Daisy, before I start, I want you to know that tattoos stay on your body for life, so I always advise careful thought before getting one.”

“Leave the cell, or I will drain your blood too.” The warning worked, and a moment later, I was left in the cell with her. I would have thanked her if it hadn't been for how little it changed. I looked at the white fabric and then at my bleeding hand. Anger twisted my lips into a cold grin. “I'm afraid I will stain your pretty gown.” “The white is to honor the Goddess,” she said. “You're going to honor her by killing one of hers on the night of the Blood Moon?” I sneered. “Sounds like blasphemy to me.”

We sprinted across the street, the bell above the door of INK jangled aggressively as we walked in. The place was exactly what you’d expect, loud rock music, neon signs, and a guy with more piercings than teeth cleaning a needle gun behind the counter. He glanced up, taking in the sight of two women, "What can I get for you ladies?" the artist asked, a cigarette tucked behind his ear. "We do not do flash art here, and no, we won't tattoo your dog." "It's for a friend," Claire announced brightly, pointing to me. "She needs a small, single-letter tattoo. Very personal. Very delicate. Immediate appointment preferred. We're on a tight schedule."

“No.” I said firmly. “I must insist. Yo-” the doctor stepped forward “You touch me with that needle and I won’t be the only one with a concussion.” I threatened. “I saw your tattoo. You can’t be afraid of needles.” Janine said. Damn, I had a massive tattoo of my wolf on my back. She was pure white, which is a symbol of royalty. “What is your tattoo of?” Axel asked.

Here is the beginning of me, you, and our beloved child Here is the beginning of a new round of great love for you my princess I promise I will never abandon you I promise I will never make you sad I swear that I love you more than anything or anyone in this wide world And that I will keep my little family with love until the day I lose my soul in it Telling you that you are the only ones who fill my eyes, and who make me love the days I live more It's bad to make me so real..too bad. In the end, they realized the reason why tattoos did not appear from the beginning is that they cannot transform.. their tattoos will appear if they are tattooed just like omega wolves

On the side of his ribs: ‘The way to the heart is a path full of thorns’ Why? I pour some oil on him, then set the jar down. After a long inhale, I touch him. Warmth blossoms in my chest. Slowly, I spread the oil with my palms. I was wrong. His skin is soft. Every other thing is hard and strong. “Is that all you’ve got?” He teases. Squeezing my mouth, I apply pressure with my fists. Another tattoo: ‘Darkness is real, and it’s the best place to be’

“Alright, my love. Anything for you.” It was too easy, the way he said it. And though part of me wanted to believe him, another part knew Grant’s version of “handling things” often came with blood and fire. But for now, I chose peace. I chose the illusion. “Alright, you’re set,” the tattooist said finally, pulling her gloves off. She handed me a mirror, and I craned awkwardly to see. Daddy’s was inked in delicate red script right where only he would see it. It was beautiful. Dangerous. Ours.