Guardian Angel Neck Tattoo Novelas e Histórias

Karina responded. "But you can....." Karina hung up , switched off her phone and dropped it. "Gosh why is he sweating so much ? " She muttered and began unbuttoning his shirt. Her hands stopped unbuttoning his shirt the moment her eyes saw something on the right side of his chest. Her hands began trembling slightly as she opened his buttons fully, she gasped and covered her mouth with both hands after seeing what was tattooed on his chest. The name "Angel" Was tattooed on his chest, a drop of tears slipped out of Karina's eyes.

At school, plenty of my friends will want to date him. He’s the type of man my mama will warn me not to date: Dark, dangerous and tattooed. His cashmere sweater is torn and patched around the edges. “Never for once in my life have I thought angels exist. Sometimes, I think they don’t because angels never come to rescue you when you need them so much. Then, I realized that some angels come in the form of people, and you are one of them, so thank you, angel.”

Walking into the kitchen, I stop and stare as Miguel makes me breakfast, completely oblivious that I'm in the vicinity. He hums along to the music playing, his bare back flexing as he moves from one place to the other, his hair in a bun. My eyes lock on the angel tattoo on his shoulder blade and my thighs clench together.

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

That was when I noticed the tattoos. His back was adorned with an intricate design of large black wings, streaked with delicate gold traces that shimmered faintly in the low light. The wings spanned across his shoulders and down his back, a masterpiece that was both beautiful and intimidating. They exuded a silent warning, a "do not mess with me" aura that fit him perfectly. Yet, despite their commanding presence, I felt no fear. This was Alessandro. The man who had carried me, who had stood by me even when I pushed him away. He wasn’t a threat—he was my protector.

“Your tattoos are beautiful.” I look at the tattoo of a skull surrounded by black flames. My whole right arm is decorated with tattoos from shoulder to wrist. My skin prickles with every caress of her fingers, but I don’t stop her from touching me. The tattoo sleeve has several tribal symbols, and there are a seal trident and a frogman tattoo on my shoulder. Each tattoo represents something in my life. The skull represents my status as an Assassin, and the cross is a play on my name. Her finger moves down the line of my intricate cross, then to the inside of my rib cage, where I have an inscription. Qui velit, ut vivat in aeternum.

Nikolai is a god among men, and I am fortunate to be embraced by his presence. Nikolai’s tattoos are sexy, and I find myself unable to resist tracing them with my finger. The stars inked on both his shoulders catch my attention, making me curious about their meaning. However, it’s the eagle tattooed on his chest that truly captivates me. The majestic bird exudes power and strength, its wings spread wide as if poised for flight. The intricate details of the tattoo come alive on his skin, and I can’t help but admire its beauty. The eagle symbolizes freedom, and in that moment, I feel as if I am soaring alongside it.

Isla went to the palace. Arin took the arrow and started looking at it. Who can attack them.If the owner of this arrow is something other than a human, then he should know Arin that Arin is an angel.And no one can be higher than an angel. Arin was very angry. He changed from his human form to his true form, the Angle form. And he shouted, "Who has the courage to shoot arrows at me come forward?"

he giggles. Muchie then lazily looks at his friend, sighing at the look on its face. His friend sure is the Angel of Death, no mercy at the souls in his hands. It even laughs sweetly like it didn't just take an innocent soul. Although the Angel of Death keeps a dangerous smile on his face pairing it with an innocent look, Muchie knows he was just a misguided kid. At his age of twelve, he was appointed to such title, to take lives while Muchie at eighteen is a level three guardian angel.

Pronounced jaws. And the tattoos. The tattoos couldn't be ignored. Black ink decorated every part of his neck, trailing down to his back that held the mark of the Order while his chest held the one he treasured the most. Some part of the tattoo even showed as the first three buttons of his shirt were off, his black waistcoat hugging his perfect figure. Paride looked like the Angel of Death. Slowly, he placed the book with the name 'A Thousand Ways to Torture A Person While Keeping Them Awake.' and waved a hand in the air, causing a man that stood in the corner of his office walk towards the blond one, a poker expression on his face.