Evil Scary Neck Tattoos Novels & Stories

He was hot like a real Ian somerholder____Damon Salvatore. I couldn’t help but notice the bold tattoos creeping up over his neck, his arms, forearms, and fingers. His dark hair is styled short but not without one little string falling out and the crest of his motorcycle club boldly tattooed on his neck. He glances towards my direction again , his stare cold but hot and when I see the mischievous smile creep up to the corner of his lips I knew I was in trouble.

Nile caught the kiss mid air and threw it on the ground and stump on it, I couldn't help my smile, this is another group of chaotic friends, “Sweetheart I'm here don't forget me” The one laying down yelled and I was surprised he's the only one with a red hair, but with a mysterious tattoo on his neck, they all have mysterious tattoos on their body, but others have black but this one is the only one with a red hair “Ehhh, what's your name?” I asked “You can call me Venom, I'm Nile's one and only cousin” I smile and wave at him “Enough guys, Amy needs to rest, see you all tomorrow”

I bent over to lit her with the fire when Ava stopped me. "This tattoo," she began to say as she lowered on her knees close to Natasha and observing her neck. "This tattoo, Skye, do have a look." She said and I lowered myself to Natasha. I was shocked by what I saw. "It's a mark of the serpent," "Belonging to the demon king," Ava said and I immediately sensed her anxiety. "I noticed a tattoo on her neck, but I never knew it was a mark of the serpent," Robin revealed, equally shocked.

She fiercely jerked off the IV drips fixed to her left wrist and stumbled off the bed, the cold marbled floor under her feet slightly comforting as she walked crossed legged to the bathroom. Her brain was lagged with a single word that repeated over and over in her mind until she unconsciously started to murmur along. "Bastard." Elsa gritted her teeth so hard it gave a low crunching sound. Her reflection in the mirror was a tangled haired, red faced girl. But what caught her eyes was the striking tattoo looking mark on her neck. There were two cute looking half moon shaped mark where she was bitten. Yet, cute or not. Elsa hated it. She wasn't against getting a tattoo and getting bitten was o

She nods thoughtfully. " Okay so this is what I want you to do to her. I need you to tattoo something across her neck." he must have asked her something because she hums. " I need you to make it as bold as possible. Make it draw as much attention as powerful. I need you to tattoo the phrase, ' I suck it cause it's delicious but like every delicious thing, it has to belong to someone else' and draw a nazi symbol on where her neck meets her chin." I stop on my tracks and digest, well in this case I'm also processing, that she is saying that. Not that it's mean but it's not humiliating enough for that skank. I need to add something to that list. Like maybe cutting off a pinky toe.

She has to surrender herself to him. He licked her lips as he saw her gulp at the sight of her seeing him with fear. Gradually, she gave up on his demand and let him lick her skin. His lips rolled over her neck from the lips. She moved her face away, giving him access to her full neck. He harshly bit on her tattoo, giving her a hickey, which rapidly turned into a blue icon.

His hands wrap around my upper arms for an instant as he puts space between us, and the shock of his touch reverberates through me. "Hey," he says, his expression blank, but I could still see the subtle hint of anger. He wasn't holding the mask anymore, and I wondered if he had thrown it somewhere. The mask was part of what we agreed to use for identification. My lips form the word hi, but my vocal chords refuse to make a sound. His throat is directly at my eye level, and I'm staring straight at the swirling calligraphy inked into his skin. Tattoos. On his neck. Neck tattoos. And it looked a bit raw. There wasn't a neck tattoo when I booked him two nights ago. On closer look though, the tatt

I admire the tattoo taking up most of his back, it's similar to Storms. It's a pair of evil snake eyes in red, with a green and yellow snake wrapped around the pistol facing the red eyes of the evil snake. The words The Satan Sniper’s Motorcycle Club are written under the pistol. But what has me at a standstill is the shading that's done around the entire picture, it's a light shading but unmistakable. It's wings, Angel wings. I don't say anything. I want to but I'm tongue tied. I scan his back and stop at the blue bruises around his sides.

Giovanni turned his back on me, my eyes were on the giant snake coloured tattoo that covered his whole back, I was still staring at the tattoo before he disappeared into a closed door. I settled back, eyes closed, palms resting on the table, and let my mind wander to Giovanni's canvas of tattoos. The intricate snake on his left neck caught my attention first – its delicate scales seeming to slither across his skin. My gaze, though imaginary, traced the vibrant, full-back serpent, its red and black hues dancing in mesmerizing harmony. Next, my mental focus shifted to the cobwebs delicately etched onto his broad neck, their subtle complexity a testament to the artist's skill. The bold, cursive

he replies. He’s an odd looking person, as I take a proper step back to look at him. His hair is a dark, woodish brown hair and his eyes are a striking close to black colour. But what hits me as his most shocking feature is the tattoos in some kind of patterned dialectic creeping up his neck from below the collar of shirt, up to his jawline, where it creeps slightly to his cheekbones. I’ve never seen anything like it.