Small Matching Sister Tattoos Novels & Stories

“Nadia… I’m Nadine’s sister.” “Luna Nadia…” My eyes darted to her raised hand and saw the tattoo RILEY below her wrist. Nadine told me about it. When she was younger, her sister asked her opinion about where to tattoo her Alpha’s name on her, and they decided to go for her wrist.

He was a stranger. Yet, he did not feel like one. She had never seen him until he called her “little sister” in the purple twilight, but somehow, he looked as familiar as if she had known him her entire life. Could they actually be related? The population of Loadstone Rock was knitted together by a complicated web of kinship—cousins, second cousins, uncles and aunts several times removed—so it was not impossible. But they did not look alike. Svetlana had large blue eyes and fine straight hair, so blond that it was almost white—a source of her private anguish as she inwardly compared her “straw” to Tattie’s dark, bouncing curls. Andrei’s skin was tanned and weathered, his hair black and his e

I refilled it and she took a long sip off the top before handing it back. "I'm Nico," she volunteered as I took a drink. "Thomas," I said as she took the mug from my hands. A black widow tattoo decorated the inside of her left wrist and another tattoo, green vines twisting and choking a broken clockwork, adorned her right bicep. I counted at least nine different piercings in her ears and eyebrow. She was short, almost a foot shorter than me, with a slight build. At first glance she appeared frail but I noticed the way the cords stood out on her arms as she randomly plucked textbooks off my shelf and thumbed through them before replacing them in the wrong location. "Nico's a unique name," I s

Ross asked, running a hand through his own newly dark hair. “I actually love it.” “Told you.” “Don't get smug.” “I'm always smug. You should know this by now.” From the salon, he dragged me two doors down to a tattoo shop, no warning, no negotiation. “Best friend tattoos,” he announced, like it was self-explanatory. “Ross, I am not getting a…” “Small. Matching. Something nobody else would even notice unless they were looking for it.” He was already flipping through a binder of tiny designs. “Come on. When else are we going to do this?”

We are now out walking toward the tattoo parlour we already know exactly what we are getting. Sutton and I are first since the other two wanted a few more minutes to collect themselves before they get their tattoos done. For the past year the girls and I have wanted the same tattoo in the same spot except one of us always chickened out and since we wanted all 4 of us to get it at the same time we never got it. But today will be the day. It’s a simple design really. Our symbols with our initial somewhere in the design. A small design on the inside of our wrist on our pinky side.

Her sister, Britney, was like a sunflower, and should not be like this. “The mole on my butt is a red one, not a black one. Sister,” the girl wearing a mask said softly.

My thoughts ran far and wide, I didn’t realize had come closer to me, looking at my eyes “Snap out of it Sister, we do not have much time for those questions you keep asking” Her fingers snapped me out in an instant Removing the hood that covered her hair, she said “Hello Sister” We looked alike, from her blue eyes to her gold hair, but hers was much rough and longer, she looked pale but her beauty was unspeakable, her aura unmatchable, she knew what she was doing, as she moved towards the stand that held the spell book, raising her hood from her legs to bring a wrapped tiny bag, there I saw the same moon tattoo I have on my ankle, it was exact with what I have

Letting go of Samantha’s hand, I watch as she positions herself on the chair before I move closer so I can stand next to her. “Great,” Dante murmurs. “I was told you want a tattoo of shaded bricks with a flower growing out of them.” Samantha nods. “And I want the words ‘stronger than ever’ over the bricks as if it’s graffiti.” Dante nods, then asks, “Where do you want the tattoo?” Her features tighten, and she looks more nervous than usual as she gestures at her side. When I realize it will be a couple of inches beneath her breast, there’s a burst of jealousy in my chest because Dante will be working close to what I consider mine.

Me: You know, most people wouldn't dare to speak to their alpha that way. Lil sis: Most people aren't the favourite baby sister of their alpha. Me: You're my only baby sister. Lil sis: All the more reason I'm you're favorite. I rolled my eyes, a grin on my face. Me: I'll be down in ten. Then I turned off my phone and decided to get dressed. I stood in front of the mirror, admiring the tattoos that ran along both of my arms, from my biceps down to my wrists.

Until that little dare. They wanted me to get a real tattoo. Something small but edgy. A delicate crescent moon wrapped in thin, twisting vines, placed just above my right hip on my lower back. It would peek out under cropped tops and make me feel like I belonged. At least that’s what I kept telling myself on the drive over. The only problem was the artist. Jax—my stepbrother. Twenty-six, built like he bench-pressed motorcycles, covered in dark, aggressive ink that crawled up his arms and disappeared under the tight black t-shirts he always wore.