Lil Peep Inspired Tattoos Novels & Stories

Peeling the material of the jeans back for her, he captured her hand once more and pressed it against his hip to encourage her to complete her exploration. Riley's face flushed as she realized he wasn't wearing underwear. Her eyes dropped down his body, skittering down the tattoos once more until she reached the blade she'd been trying to discover. It was clutched tightly in the upraised bony hand of a hooded grim reaper. She gasped and her jaw dropped. What were the odds of the man, whose terrifying pursuit had brought them to this moment, having a tattoo of her racing handle? She moved further up on her elbow to better see the artwork. It was both horrifying and beautiful, frightening and

Close enough that people believed what they saw. I looked like what humans called a ‘bad boy’. Baggy jeans, Black tees, Sneakers, sometimes leather. I spoke less and associated little only when necessary. My shirts were almost always short-sleeved or just sleeveless, exposing the tattoos along my arms. Some were tribal. Others meant nothing at all. Elena was different. She only had one. Small. Subtle. Hidden just behind her ear. Her mother’s initials. She never talked about it. She didn’t need to.

Then the door opens. And then there’s Levi. He’s tall, just as his pictures suggested, with broad shoulders that fill his simple grey t-shirt. His brown hair is a little messy, falling across his forehead, and his eyes... they really are green. A deep, earthy moss, crinkling at the corners when he smiles. He has subtle, tasteful tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves – abstract lines and geometric shapes that look thoughtful, not aggressive. He just seems... cool. My gaze lingers on the subtle bulge of his biceps as he gestures, a quiet pull that registers even through my anxiety.

Luke's awe was clear as Clay finished my tattoo, his skilled hands bringing to life the intricate design we'd agreed upon. It was more than ink on skin; it was a symbol of our intertwined lives, our shared journey. The art was so quintessentially us, capturing the essence of our bond in bold, swirling lines and shaded crescents.

Lira Jax reached behind and grabbed an ice cube from a cup he'd prepared earlier. Then he pressed it to my clit without warning. I gasped. My hips buckled from the cold against the heat of his fingers. It was overwhelming, confusing, perfect. His thumb circled my clit as the ice melted. Cold water ran down. I came hard, biting my lip to keep from screaming. My body shook against him. I trembled from the orgasm, from the cold, from everything. His shirt was open from me pulling at it. I saw the tattoo on his chest. Bold letters spelled "LIRA" right over his heart.

I had a folder with all the entries for the tattoo ideas in it. "My favorites are these three." I mind-linked. She took out the top three and looked at them. The first one was a crescent moon with a swirling cloud thing behind it. The description was that we were called shadow pack, so it would make sense that we had a shadow of the moon to represent us. She then looked at the next one. It was two hands that looked to be made from shadows reaching for one another. Then she came to the last one.

“They can affect the skin. I need pure, clean assistants. I must check if that’s really a mole or a small tattoo.” Lila’s voice rose. “I promise I’ve never had a tattoo! Please, sir.” “I believe you,” I said gently, “but rules are rules. Mind if I check it with my hand? Just to feel the texture. Tattoos feel different.” She breathed faster, her chest rising and falling. “O-okay, sir. If you have to.” I stepped right up to her. Yes. She said yes. “I need your permission first. Can I place my hand down there?”

I search my own reflection in the mirror of her gaze, desperate for an understanding of why she regards me with such unfamiliarity. Is she also angry that I have tattoos or thinks I am beneath her for having them? Even Ellen called them cool which is saying something else when it comes to Ellen and Lilian's perspective. Lilian is way more understanding than anyone I've ever known and even showed her my tattoos during one of my first times and she promised to get one done too where her agents won't see.

I murmured while examining the included photographs. One image depicted Aurora during her teenage years, alongside a teenage boy, evidently deeply in love. Presumably, this was her mate. Another photograph captured the boy shirtless, his shorts riding low enough to reveal a discreet D&D tattoo just below his abdomen, where his V-shaped muscle disappeared beneath his shorts. The tattoo would have gone unnoticed if the photographer hadn't intentionally focused on it. A third photograph showed the two of them reclining together, the camera zeroing in on their matching initials tattooed on their skin.

Fire needs stone, pup—she’s yours, revel! Lila knelt by a bench, chestnut ponytail bouncing, hazel eyes bright, sketching lupines on parchment, charcoal stick steady, courage radiant—the Veil’s runes gone, her maps eternal, her spark blazing. Her tunic was clean, voice lilting, guiding pups’ drawings, the firelight catching her joy. Spark, her wolf, yipped vibrantly, tail wagging. You’re their star, Lila—draw, shine, live!