Ghost Skull Tattoo Filler Novels & Stories

Looking away would have been the most sensible thing to do, but I couldn't look away or even close my eyes. The shirt slid off his shoulders and down his firm back, revealing a wide tattoo spanning the entirety of it. The black ink mapped out a large human skull, the hollow spaces where its eyes should have been replaced by flames, while thread-like vines wound and warped around the bone structure in tight, climbing patterns. "Curious about my tattoo?" I quickly closed my eyes at his question, embarrassment heating up my face. I heard him add, "Demetri has one almost similar. Who knows, he might just let you see it if you ask nicely. That is, if he doesn't kill you first tomorrow, or send yo

And every single nerve in my body wanted him to follow through on that threat. The tattoo took another forty minutes to finish. Every second felt like torture. My body was on fire, my panties completely soaked, and Marcus kept making these low, rough sounds every time the needle hit a sensitive spot. By the time I wiped the last traces of ink and set the machine down, my hands were shaking badly. “Done,” I whispered. Marcus sat up slowly, turning to look at the fresh ink on his ribs. The shattered hourglass and ravens looked even better than I’d imagined on his skin. He ran his fingers lightly around the edges, then looked at me with dark, predatory eyes.

The Skeleton Gang finally saw the embodiment of that first-hand. The man was sent flying by the slap. As soon as he landed on the ground, blood spurted out of his mouth before he passed out. “You b*stard!” The man with a skull tattoo on his face roared before he pulled the trigger of his hunting rifle directed toward Harvey. Bang! Gunpowder spewed right out of the barrel. “Look out!” exclaimed Kairi instinctively. Harvey could have dodged the bullet, but Kairi was in the rifle’s line of sight.

And here I thought you chose me" He fakes disappointment and I chuckle. "Maybe if you didn't have that grim reaper on your body. Damn, it freaks me out" I cringe thinking about it. "You say?" Dante stops and acts surprised and we laugh. "What is the joke?" The skull guy, I learned his name is Diego joins us, and I am between two males again. At least they are not trying to kill each other. "Well, she says she finds my tattoos sexy as hell" Dante winks and I gape at him. I didn't fucking say that.

He peeled the adhesive tape and lowered the protective gauze so she could see his brand new tattoo. Skylar’s eyes widened, then pooled with tears. “Kade. You did that? For me?” “Yep.” “Why? You hate needles.” “When you came to me the other night, and left your marks all over me, I knew they’d fade and I wanted to prove that you’re a permanent part of me.” He glanced at the puffy red skin, and the heart with Skylar scrolled in the center. She squinted. “Is the outline of that heart supposed to look like…barbed wire?”

Something about the adrenalin of the tattoo gun I guess. I did get a tattoo added for Roxie in the end. It took me a while to think about what I wanted but in the end I had a twisting, mixed up lightning bolt. Not a cheesy, pointy outline, but the crackling, thin shards that splinter across a dark sky. It is on the side of my ribs, surrounded by the constellations of the Fyrestone compound.

I'd assessed his body with complete clinical detachment — noted the scarring on his ribs, the healed break in his collarbone, catalogued the ink on his side for reference. That was not what I was doing now. The tattoo on his ribs was larger than I'd registered clinically — architectural lines, I realized now. The skeleton of a building, clean geometric lines that curved along the shape of his ribcage like they'd been drawn there specifically, like the building had been designed for that exact space. My breath caught. I reached out and traced it with my fingertip. He went completely still. Not tense. Just stopped. Every muscle in him arrested, his breath held, watching my face while I looked

still raw at the edges. The Calavera’s jaw gaped wide, swallowing the death date. I’d seen those skeletal grins before—on cartel men, on altars, on the sugar skulls Marisol left for her dead. But this one’s different. Tiny cempasúchil flowers frame the skull, their orange petals chipped from sun and grease. He tended this tattoo. Honored it.

Jack interjects, “What I mean by interrupt is from the insider, like the technician, and I already spoke it with Isabella which she seems to agree with it, as long as the interruption is not a lot to destroy her organizer’s name. So basically, the interruption just happens during our marking, so I will make it like you and I a bit to mark each other, and then the technician or anyone will interrupt us, that way, we will shift and use that time to apply makeup instead to show that we’re marking.” “But how do we use make up? Like isn’t it taking time or something?” she asked, and Jack took out a pair of paper from his pocket, and showed it to her. “We’re using a tattoo, Brianna. So all we need

By the end, he lay collapsed on the floor, his body covered in grotesque red markings. I looked down at him, my tone calm and detached. "Oh, I forgot to mention. This tattoo ink is specially made. It won't fade. It'll stay with you for the rest of your life." I tilted my head slightly, almost amused. "I was just joking around with you, Mr. Payne… You're not upset, are you?"