Mazikeen Tattoo の小説・ストーリー

He links as he pouts at me I can tell a smile is trying to replace his pout. I laugh as the group looks between us, Ajax just smirks at me and looks away. I love my marks, but I will have to cover them when I go to my granparents they look like I have a little tattoo at the base of my neck on each side one a star and one a moon both with a wolf howling at it, they're each around two inches In size amd very detailed so they're definitely noticeable. They're perfect.

The first thing he came across was his reflection in the mirror. He was shirtless with his pants hanging around his waist. His hairs were a little dishevelled covering his forehead. There was small tattoo of a tornado. It was just an inch tall as he made that when Kaz and Conner challenged him to do so. He never liked to ink his skin as he liked it clean devoid of any absurd pattern on it. The scars he got from the wars he had won were enough for him and he cherished them on his skin. But they, especially Kaz loved to ink his skin or he should say he liked to be penetrated by a needle to ink his blood. Zackarya never had these types of likings.

It was probably for the best that I marked my territory on things that were mine. My phone bleeped; it was a message from Mikhail. He’d sent a picture of Enora’s tattoo; she’d made one that looked almost like mine except for the fact that the skeletons on hers were smiling. My malysh had a fucking sense of humor, which I needed to set her straight on tonight.

Keely hip-checked Indy and whispered, “So now that Domini is officially a McKay, let’s figure out where you’re gonna tattoo her.” “What? I have to get a tattoo?” “Ssh. India has tattooed all the women who’ve married into the McKay family with the McKay cattle brand. It’s something we started with AJ.” Keely grinned. “Since we didn’t throw a bachelorette party before AJ’s wedding, we had a private tattoo party afterward at Indy’s new studio. Channing and Macie’s brands are ‘tramp stamps’ on their lower backs. Mine is on my hip. Indy did hers on the inside of her left thigh last year. Skylar’s is on her shoulder.

V GOD! His chest is a-fucking-mazing! I won't be mad if he never wears another shirt. GASPS! O.M.G! Did he really..? "You got my name tattooed on you?!" I excitedly shriek. He has 'MY KEYA' tattooed on his abs in Old English font. Curved kinda like how Tupac has 'Thug Life' tattooed on his abs! Wow he must be really crazy about me! I am starting to fall for this guy, hard!

She looks at me as I sit opposite her. "I need you to message Ink for me," I say, and she laughs slightly. "I want a tattoo, but I don't want King to be told. It needs to be a surprise," I explain. This is something I can do for him. I want to do something. He is constantly sketching me things or writing me poems, and I want to give him something back. "Yeah, Ink can't tattoo you without fucking speaking to King. You're not one of the bitches, Mazikeen, your his old lady," she explains, and I sigh.

I said, and he looked at me like he could see the stitches under my shirt. “Loud is okay,” he said. “Loud isn’t dying.” Every eighth night I went back to the storage unit. Maeve checked the sites with the tenderness of a mechanic who loves the sound an engine makes when it finally admits what’s wrong. She added new points—along the spine, the wrists, the Achilles. She tattooed small, precise sigils around each site with a needle that sang. The ink wasn’t black. It was the color of a bruise at the end of its story.

Harken just narrows his eyes, fed up with the night’s events as is, but lifts his shirt to rip it over his head, revealing the large mixed tribal and Celtic style tattoo that runs from his left wrist up his arm and to his chest, the intricate symbol of the Lewis tribe crest in the middle of his breast, and the large head of a wolf covering his shoulder, winding and thick brushed tribal designs covering the skin around them. “Guess again, asshole. If you’re so familiar with their markings, you probably know what my ink means.” Harken glares down at Karl, watching as the kids’ wide eyes wander over the tattoo, his fingers gripping his forearms. “Well, w-what’s that one then?” Karl asks and poi

I was so speechless, I just jumped on him and he winced, the tattoo was still hurting a bit. My fingers traced another ink one on his shoulder, he got this one after his dad died, in memory of him. "Do you always do this when I'm asleep" Bryne's husky voice jolts me back and I quickly remove my hand from his chest. He frowns and sits up, resting his back on the headboard. He yawns and stretches. I gulp, watching his thick muscle extends and flexes. "Come here" I nod and crawl to his arms obediently. He draws circles on my back and hums an inaudible tune.

When I pushed open the heavy glass door of the Nightshade Tattoo Studio, the wind chime above it rang out in a crisp cascade of sound. Henry Kane sat on a tall stool behind the workstation, wearing a black mask as he lowered his head and sketched. The air-conditioning ran cold inside the shop, carrying a faint blend of disinfectant and sharp tobacco. It was an unmistakable scent that belonged only to him. At the sound, he did not even look up; only the pencil in his hand paused for a brief moment.