Goku Scars Novels & Stories

working. I tried to resist but he started showing an unnatural amount of strength. Holding one of my paws messed up by balance, after all, I still wasn't used to this body. When he had a full grip on it, he pushed me to my surprise. I toppled over and lay flat on my back. It was going to be a struggle to get back on all fours again. Blade eventually gets up on both of his feet. He takes off his torn shirt which still has the claw marks on it. His chest is lean and defined with plump biceps and hard abs. The scratches I gave him earlier rested above his abs and they seemed to be healing themselves. As I struggled to get up, Blade came towards me and it seemed that with every step, his scars s

I never liked people getting too close to me. It might have been my survival instincts and trust issues, but I'm used to people being cruel. With both my parents gone, years of surviving as a lone wolf taught me to expect only the worst in humans. Kindness isn't something I see every day. Scar watches me as I wrap up the cuts around my hand with a white cloth. As his name says, he has quite a glaring scar that runs from his left eye to the side of his jaw. His bare chest shows numerous tattoos and battle marks. A leather belt hangs on his waist, securing a pair of cargo pants.

She watched as he frowned at the button , his chiseled face was like a sculpture, he had thick and roughly carved brows she felt like running her hands on them. He had a well carved beards which had evidence of not been shaved for a while, they where prickly but also tickled wherever his face brushed her arm. The lock of hair that had been on his forehead head was now brushing his eyes, Ann had the strongest urge to brush it from his eyes and indeed they did feel marvelously silky. Oh on! She had touched it, and now he was looking at her. But this time not only did he look frustrated, there was something else, it wasn't there before and it reminded her of the day at the library.

°° HÉCTOR °° Jake. My fingers froze on the steering, my heart thudding louder than any drum as I watch the chaos unfolding in front of me. Jake, convulsing in Gustavo's arms, looking badly injured with blood all over his face. Even in that state and after four years have passed, there is still no way I wouldn't recognize my Gamma. He hasn’t changed a lot, most especially the ugly scar beneath his left eye. He'd gotten it from a severe attack once when we went hunting in the woods and accidentally trespassed into another pack's territory.

His expression softened. Gillian did not speak when she turned around. Wordlessly, she let the towel dropped on the floor. He wheeled to come near her slowly. The flawlessly smooth back was blemished with scars, round and elongated. They were mostly caused by cigarette burns and a small blade. The scars seemed created a long time ago. "Who did these?" Rye swallowed before he asked the question. "Men..." Gillian replied tonelessly. "When...?" "Years..." "Oh, Gillian!" Rye's voice was full of compassion. He kissed the deepest scar. "I'm sorry."

The serum makes it so we’ll forever bear the scars of our marks to show the world that we belong to one another. I trail my fingers up his neck, his jaw. To his eyebrow, which also bears a new scar. Brock was so close to death after the fight with Xavier that his shifter healing couldn’t keep up, and he now has scars that tell the tale. This small slash through his eyebrow, a deeper scar on his right shoulder, and another on the left side of his abdomen. I saw the scar on his eyebrow once before, in a vision.

The wound is still here, and I know that it's opening again. I touched the scars on my chest, near my heart. I winced as soon as I felt my scar in my chest. Until no, I still don’t know what really happened, or what caused this wound of mine. School Accident, that's what he told me. I don't know, but I did not believe in him. I was about to go the garden when my phone beeped. … +639********* to Tatiana: Hey. I hope you are doing good. I talked to someone about your condition.

He pulled away suddenly and threw his head back. For several moments we both panted in the dark. Gabe lay beside me and pulled me into his arms. He gently touched my shoulder and grimaced. "It's fine," I said dismissively. Gabe shook his head. "No," he said. "You don't understand." I frowned and cuddled closer to him. "Explain it, then." "It's the mate mark," he said. He ran his fingers around the shallow puncture wounds. "A scar that shows you've been claimed. I almost did it without asking."

Tight—sharp and perfect like they were shaped by someone who knew exactly what temptation was. His short dark hair was damp and messy from the shower, and the way the water trickled down his torso made my mouth go dry. Dammit. I wanted more of him. Again—right now. He didn’t wear the mask anymore. I could see his full face now—the scars that marked his left side, and the perfection of the right. But to me? They weren’t even that bad. Not when he looked like this. Not when I could finally see all of him. I loved his scars just as much as I loved everything else.

Looking over, Kallen lazily smiled, his grey eyes seemed to be dreamy, and since he was still shirtless, I let myself have a small peek. Damn. He definitely had a six-pack, and I could see the darkened lines of a scar, one I hadn’t noticed last night, swooping from his hip and over his stomach. I wanted to ask, but again, that emotional line needn't be crossed, especially since I didn’t know how long this was to last.