Helluva Boss Tattoo Ideas Novels & Stories

It was Sunday, over breakfast and the two gentlemen were quite friendly, so Gina got in the mood and ventured into asking a question that could have been disadvantageous to her if the response had been negative. "What do you think of tattoos? Especially on women?" The gentlemen grinned and looked at each other. Abram thought The Boss should respond. "I think tattoos, proper ones, are a work of art. They add to the beauty," he said. "Why, you have one you want to show us?" he teased.

"Try me. Just so you know, this place is mine. No one will stop me if I want to fuck an American girl like you. They don't know you. You're not one of us." "The police will catch you and throw you in jail." "Really? Before the police come, I'll take you to my bed first. Hmm, you're really beautiful. What's your name?" Angel turned her face away when the man grabbed her chin. She could only pray to God to send an Angel to help her. She was very scared. The man was like a psychopath. He had a tattoo of a dagger and a two-headed snake along his arm. Angel was sure the man was a member of a gangster. No one dared to interrupt the man. The people who came to the bar just walked past her and didn'

“Yeah? Maybe once my ass is healed you can turn the puncture wound into one of them cool, fake bullet holes you see on motorcycles and pickup tailgates.” “Please. I’m an artiste. I have something way better in mind. Something hip-fun-sexy-cool.” Suspicion clouded Colt’s face. “I already told you. You ain’t tattooing the area around my nipples. Ever.” “But this new pattern is so awesome. Turquoise and orange outlined in black and red, that looks like flames—” “No way, no how.” “Just hear me out.” “Dammit, Indy, I said no. Why are you so dang fired up about doin’ this?”

"Y—You actually possess such immense, divine power!" My lips curl into a mocking smirk as the completely shredded remains of my shirt fall away from my upper body, revealing my heavily muscled, bare physique to the entire room. A dark, terrifyingly majestic tattoo of a black dragon with glowing red eyes is coiled tightly across my chest, its primal design incredibly vivid and lifelike against my skin.

I realized how much I missed him, more than I had admitted to myself. “You really love tattoos,” I remarked as he casually removed his shirt. His back was covered in intricate black and gray tattoos—half a skull, half the face of a crying woman. His shoulders and arms were adorned with shading, letters, and flowers that had intertwined over time. I noticed the names of my parents, mine, and his pack etched on a cross. My dad would have had a fit if I had even a single tattoo.

“Boss Lady had shared pictures of the tattoo that you did on her and a few of your designs. We displayed them, and those are the ones who are interested in talking to you about getting some ink done. No pressure if you don’t want to do it, but there you go just in case. By the way, I know that there’s at least fifteen of us workers who would definitely be interested in your designs.” Maddox looked at the paper before looking at me. There was such raw emotion there that it choked me up. He gripped my chin and drew me into a sweet kiss, one of promise and love. There were cheers around us when we pulled a part. Heat warmed my cheeks, making him chuckle softly. ‘You blush so fiercely for someon

chest rising in a calm rhythm like he was meditating, not surrounded by criminals. Speaking of his tattoos, he's got the weirdest tats I have seen on any guy. His back bore the most outrageous tattoos in the history of tattoos. His back looked like someone had lost a wrestling match with a possessed octopus holding a tattoo gun. From shoulder to shoulder, the ink sprawled like a chaotic crime scene—tribal swirls, demonic curls, and angry squiggles that might’ve once meant something, but now just screamed, “I don’t pay taxes and I bite.”

I already knew what I wanted to do, so I took off my shirt. “What will it be, boss?” Ash asked after she had everything set up and was ready to go. Slipping on the black latex gloves over her dainty fingers. She styled her dark red hair atop her head, keeping it out of the way. I have wanted to get this tattoo for a long time, but there just hasn’t been time. So I point to the spot next to Tess’s name. “I want a teddy bear with button eyes, with a crown or tiara on its head.”

Bella hissed to the thug general that had been standing away from us. Alarm spiked in my body when I took in the man’s hefty size, the ink of snake tattoos that curved around his bald white head, inked into his eyes and face and the rest of his muscular body. Every inch of his body was covered in small metal spikes or tattoos. He looked like a fucking skull merchant! Bloody hell! Was I ever going to make it out of here?! “The fuck are you looking at slut? MOVE! What the hell do you think I am? Your fucking chauffeur?” The tattooed thug boss barked suddenly and I jumped, gasping when his hard hands wrapped around my arm and shoved me forward roughly.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.