Fantasy Football Loser Tattoo の小説・ストーリー

“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.

The disappearing tattoo from his hand disheartened Owen. He licked his lips as he inhaled deeply before opening his mouth and blowing out a long sigh. With his gloomy eyes gaping at his empty backhand with no tattoo in it, Owen said, worried, "For one moment, I thought the abilities of Lycans are strong enough to beat the murder attempts of this Forest but I was wrong!" Making his eyes quit gaping at the tattoo as it wasn't going to come back, Owen glanced at the path ahead. Gripping the reins time and again, he drove the cart with a crestfallen face that bloomed disappointment and not to forget a bit of frustration too.

right over his heart. "What is that?" I gasped and touched it, half expecting it to be fake. "My tattoo," he said with an unbothered grin. "Please tell me that's not permanent," I begged. "It is." He laughed and pulled his shirt fully open to show the full design. My name in beautiful script, surrounded by subtle wolf imagery. "You can't just ink my name onto your chest and expect the world to fall in line," I protested. "What if you regret it? What if this ends?"

The click of the seatbelt seems to seal me into his control. He slams the door shut with a deafening clap, his powerful frame filling the car as he starts the engine. My eyes are drawn to the intricate symbol tattoos adorning his bulging muscles, and I cannot help but feel both intimidated and mesmerised by them as they start to writhe and twist, moving across his skin as if alive. “Why do your tattoos move?” I whisper, my face unconsciously inching closer to his. His dark eyes meet mine, sending a shiver down my spine. “They’re ruins,” he answers gravely. “Tobin cast them to ward off dark magic.” I can’t tear my gaze away from the pulsating marks on his skin. “But why do they move?” I wonde

"So we are doing it by the book. We make it official." Justin frowned. "What are you talking about?" I grabbed the collar of my black t-shirt and ripped it down the middle. The fabric tore easily, exposing my chest and the massive, intricate Midnight Reaper tattooed directly over my heart. "Get the tattoo gun." I ordered. The room went dead silent. You could hear a pin drop. It was the ultimate disgrace. The ultimate sacrifice. A patched member only had his ink blacked out if he was a traitor, a rat or a dead man.

The dark circle over his chest is black bordered by the surrounding blood with the star in its middle with 6 corners. 'OH noooo I don't know by the hands of my father but surely I will die at the hands of the Villain of the game itself as no one is alive who ever saw his tattoo!!!' 4 seconds left'FUKKKKKKEEEYOU GAMMEE~' Closing his own eyes pulled Daisuke by his neck placing his own warm lips upon the cold once. 'Please, at least I don't want to die at the hands of the character I made myself'

He is much more of a listener these days, although still more than capable of calling me out. “I’m saying you need to find some happiness. I think there was a reason you were paired with C-” “Don’t say his name,” Lucas snapped, his green eyes flaring with chocolate rage. He has acquired a shedload of tattoos since his rejection. “I know what you’re trying to say, but don’t.” “And what’s with all the tattoos? They don’t even mean anything?” Especially over his upper shoulder. Where he should have been marked by Cesar, now a thick, illegible patch of black covers the area. It must have stung so much just to look like a mangled tiger.

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.

A pentagon tattoo sitting just under his eyes, a symbol of his father's gang. "You took the coward's way out. You know you can never win in a fair race. Because that's all you are a stupid rich coward". I sneered back and Ryder looked taken aback for a second before he laughed. "Look who grew wings over the night. Let's see again after the match. After I win, you owe me a drink". He flicked my forehead before smirking and walking back to his car. The girls suddenly put their hands all over him.

She had reached her goal and was now the Bellator champion. An arm encircled her waist with a familiar hand pulling her into his side. Instinctively, Taz reached down and touched the tattoo on his outer wrist. A small bill of sale declaring that his body, heart and soul had been sold to the Devil herself. Linking her fingers with his, she played with his titanium wedding band. Running through the center was a rainbow in support of his daughter. Beneath the ring, in the style of her trademark rainbow braids, TAZ was tattooed on his ring finger.