Smile Now Cry Later Tattoo Novels & Stories

Blake’s expression has shifted from casual to professional the moment the conversation turned to work. I sighed. “I want to get the skin on my boobs tattooed. Around my nipples, I want to write ‘suck on it.’ I also want the word ‘smack’ tattooed on my butt cheeks, and on my thigh near my pussy, I want to have ‘touch me’ written.” I explained. Blake nodded. “Daisy, before I start, I want you to know that tattoos stay on your body for life, so I always advise careful thought before getting one.”

**ELENA'S POV** The guy with the creepy smile blocked the exit and stepped closer, bringing with him the smell of cheap cologne and tobacco. I guess I could call him Mr. Creepy Smile. “Curious cats,” the tattooed guy chuckled, rolling his shoulders like he was warming up for another kill. “We know what happens to them.” I'll call him Mr. Gold-Tooth. I let my lips curl as I replied to him. “They tend to take someone with them.”

"I got this tattoo after I tried to find you, but to no avail. This black moon represents your bite. The circle of barbed wire symbolizes loyalty and the promise that I will protect my mate, and overall, this tattoo represents my oath as a leader to guard and protect my pack and my mate. You." Noreen's head throbbed. She couldn't comprehend what Thiery was talking about at all. It was like he was speaking a language from another planet. Thiery touched Noreen's lips with his index finger, and she immediately shuddered again. When he kissed her lips, Noreen felt it again, a slow, stirring desire, awakening butterflies in her stomach.

She couldn't deny it--Mark was now asserting his dominance over her, and she was loving it. Mark sensed his plan was headed toward a successful end. He continued to smoke the cigar as he rolled up his right shirt sleeve, revealing the tattoo he had inked on his arm two days earlier. It was the word "DADDY" with a smoldering cigar underneath it. Mark thought he'd lost his mind when he had this permanent display put on his body. Now that he believed he was going to get what he wanted so desperately, he felt like a genius.

Liam placed sweet kisses on her face, as though trying to take away the pain. ''Do you want her to stop?” ''Nope!” Kate exclaimed even before Liam could finish his question and he laughed. ''Then you have to bear with the pain okay? It'll be over soon.” He encouraged. Kate nodded and bit on her lower lip, her face all red. The tattooist had drawn the butterfly wanted on her boobs, it was very pretty but it was still red and hurting so Kate didn't want to touch it. After which, she opted to get a red rose design on her ankle, Liam was against it, because she was already red from the one she had gotten but she had insisted.

I paced around the room, trying to get myself and my thoughts together. "What would I do now? What am I supposed to do? What was I going to tell my dad or mom? This is fucked up!" I murmured, running my fingers through my hair. I went back to the mirror to get a good look at the mark. The mark was beautifully tattooed on my neck. It was a picture of a half-crescent moon and a large black wolf staring at it; its mouth opened as if it was howling at it. It was beautiful, and it complimented my skin. I knew the mate-bound was already strengthened. There was nothing that could break it anymore.

I wanted to swallow my saliva, but my mouth became dry. The corner of his lips turns up as he smirks at me. My cheeks become flushed once again. I look away quickly because I'm embarrassed that everything is happening so fast. “You're blushing, Katrina. There is no need,” he smirks, letting one side of his pants drop-down next to his v-line. “I am just showing you my tattoo.” The next side drops, showing me his dark hairline. He continues in a matter-of-fact-tone, “That’s all, nothing more.” I try to sound as brave as possible."Of course, you are. I know that."

I look down at my tattoo of the moon with a wolf behind it. I got it when I turned 18 as sign of rebellion. Really, I thought it looked cool. I shrug. "It didn't hurt much." "Wow." His brow went up. He pulled up his sleeve. Showing me his ink on his arm. "I cried like a baby for 3 days when I got that. You must have some sick tolerance for silver burns." "Silver? There's silver in your tattoo?" My eyes went wide. Out of all my friends, I'm the only one marked with ink.

The tattoo, an indelible mark on his skin, became a symbol of our enduring connection, a visual anchor that soothed his mind in the midst of challenges. The evening breeze carried with it the echoes of our shared history, and in Logan's gaze, I found a reflection of a love that had weathered the tests of time and distance. The tattoo on his arm became not just an image but a testament to the resilience of our connection, a love story etched in ink and whispered confessions beneath the vast expanse of the night sky.