Middle Neck Tattoos Novels & Stories

To his sharp jawline, the way it tensed slightly as he spoke. And then— I saw it. Just at the base of his neck, partially hidden beneath the collar of his shirt, was a tattoo. My breath hitched slightly. It wasn’t something obnoxious or out of place—it was subtle, elegant. A fine-lined design, woven with careful detail. I didn’t even realize I was leaning in until Amelia’s voice barely registered— “Audrey? Are you listening?” I hummed absentmindedly, my eyes tracing the inked lines against his skin.

His white shirt stretched over broad shoulders, his loosened tie hinting at a man who was always one step away from unleashing the beast beneath the businessman aura he exuded. One thing that caught my eye, even from the distance, was the tattoo that wound its way along the side of his neck. It flashed as he flexed, the taut muscles beneath shifting like the coils of a serpent. The ink seemed alive, dark against his skin, trailing down into the collar of his shirt, disappearing where I couldn’t follow. But what truly held my attention was the one that stretched down his arm.

As my eyes follow his neck I find our mark sitting there like the most beautiful tattoo with its simplicity. The triple moon sits on our neck, the outlines clean and crisp. Inside the full moon sits two paw darkened paw prints. Three stars connected by thin lines rest above the full moon and waning crescent. Tracing the image I enjoy watching Damon shiver while I whisper, "it's beautiful."

Completely naked and with a weak smile on his whitish lips, he pulls the last spl of the plastic sweater and exposes all the rest of the tattooed skin above the bandage on his waist. The drawings engraved on your shapely arms begin in the pectoral muscles with a fusion of messages in different languages, spirals and lines, flowing in a connection with musical notes, stars and rays through your right shoulder to your wrist. On the other side, the head of an open-mouthed Chinese dragon has its syrup outlined on its left shoulder. Among the pigmentation of drawings, there is a skin band with shy black curls separating them.

He stopped midway through the sentence. Almost hesitant. His eyes shifted downward briefly. Toward her left hand. "I like the tattoo." His finger pointed lightly in its direction. A small butterfly design nestled between her thumb and index finger. "It looks really neat." Mary glanced at it. Then back at him. "Does it mean anything?" he asked. A smile appeared on her face. A real one. "Yes." "Yes It does." Mary raised her hand slightly so he could see it better. "It's a butterfly with an M shape worked into the design."

made her feel so uncomfortable, Immediately she stood in front of the mirror. Elina shoved her hair off her shoulders to reveal her porcelain white neck. She tilted a little, so she could see, and yes. She spotted so many red marks and they ached. Just as she was about to leave, Elina spotted the spot which was burning. “What's this?” She walked closer to the mirror and reached her ha for her neck. “When did I get a tattoo?” Elina was shocked to find a crescent half-moon on her neck side, it was a little red and slowly turning dark brown. It was burning as if there were fire trapped in her skin. “Ouch,” she muttered when she ran her hand over it, it was a clear half-moon. “Alina, are you in

Marcus continued slowly. “He said when she handed him candy, her wrist was exposed for a moment. On it was a very unusual tattoo.” Marcus took out another photo. It was a child’s drawing. A twisted pumpkin face, its mouth split all the way to the ears, its eyes hollow spirals. “This kind of gothic-style tattoo… a lot of people have them…” My voice grew quieter and quieter. Marcus said nothing. He simply placed a third photo in the center of the table. The background was a beach and the open sea.

It was my name! My cheeks flushed red as my toes curled. That tattoo wasn't new. Then my eyes dropped to the others. It felt like his skin was a story I wasn't allowed to read. It started at his throat, black ink. Sharp, spiked lines that dragged down the column of his neck, split over his collarbone, and bloomed. The tattoo. It wasn't flowers or tribal...it was sigils, interlocking. Quite ancient like someone carved a spell into him with a blade instead of a needle.

And tossing them haphazardly, Axel's hands pulled at the fabric hooks covering the twin objects that were already stiffening at their peaks. Axel's eyes gazed at Tessa's body. Tessa was sure Axel must have wondered about the Greek and English tattoos in several spots on her body. One that stood out, right on the right side of his rib cage. "Serendipity." Tessa heard Axel say. "Your tattoo is so pretty, I didn't know you had one. Is there only one?" Axel gave the tattoo on Tessa's ribs a quick peck before heading back up and stopping at one of Tessa's hardened Areola peaks.

I added ironically. Kendall didn't say anything, she just stared at my neck. I followed his gaze, lowering it to my four-leaf clover. He was a replica of the tattoos he had at the base of my spine, a physical mark to remember the one that was fixed on my body. Kendall hated necklaces, said he had allergies, although I had never witnessed any.