Smile Now Cry Later Tattoo Novels & Stories

“Two long tears. Both eyes.” The tattooist looked up from his tools, his expression grim. “You realize what you’re asking for? This isn’t just any tattoo. It marks you as part of a violent group. Step into River, and you’ll be arrested on sight. Worse, your soul will be bound to hers. If she dies, especially by your hand, your soul shatters into fragments. You’ll be left a husk—a mindless, broken shell. Are you sure about this?” In the corner, Argent leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, her silver braids reflecting the dim light as she formed a heart with her hands.

She says, my eyebrows knit, then my head tilts, noticing how Cyrus sits up straighter, waiting for something… I don’t know what though. I guess it makes sense that, that is moving around the pack. She smiles, “The twins saving you from your last Alpha… So, romantic.” She gushes; my jaw tightens, but I relax leaning back in the chair to relax again. My eyes drift to my tattoo, “I hope you get whatever you want in life.” I tell her, closing my eyes again. “This tattoo is beautiful.” My eyes open to the girl doing my nails, “Does it symbolize anything?” She asks.

Shmue replied to Dum. Tattoo?? “What kind of tattoo?” Dum asked Shmue looked in the bag he was carrying for something and then gave Dum a photo. "Here, I know I'm going to forget what tattoo it was, so I surreptitiously snapped a picture with it," Shmue said slyly to Dum with a mischievous smile. I attempted to see what type of tattoo it was, but I was so far away that I couldn't see it. I have no option but to approach towards them and summon Dum in order to fully view the tattoo.

“Your turn.” “I’m not getting a tattoo.” He shrugged. “Didn’t think you would.” “Oh, fuck you. Fine.” I settled for two small tattoos. One of a pair of cherries with a bite mark above my right breast. “Those yours?” He smirked. “Because I’d bite harder.” I rolled my eyes at him but the tattoo artist found it funny. I got another one. “𝒮𝒾𝓃” on my side, under my left breast.

“The one I cut on the back?” I blinked at her. “You mean the little asswipe with the shitty tattoo who wanted to fuck up my pretty face with his brass knuckles? Yeah, I’m fairly positive I don’t care if he’s okay. But from the way he lit out of there like his tail was on fire, I’d say he’s just fine.” “It wasn’t a shitty tattoo,” she mumbled. “It was the eye of Horus. Some thought it was a symbol to ward off evil, but it’s actually supposed to symbolize healing.”

Maya waggled her brow at Jared as he stepped out of the dressing room, looking like a stereotyped bad boy and ticking off all the boxes with his denim jacket which was opened showing off chiseled muscleks and surprisingly a tattoo, though it was an inscription that puzzled her: I want to be your everything except but one thing, Your past. It was very poetic and in all the tats did do Justice to the whole bad boy imagery that was being projected. "Howdy," she taunted, adding a wave and stifling giggle for good measures. He groaned and she chuckled.

She loved my smile and I would smile at her a thousand times if that would make her happy. I had marked her the moment I felt her life slipping away. Sniffing her neck, I sank my elongated canines into her collarbone after finding her sweet spot, drawing blood. I licked the wound to seal it and a small tattoo of a Lycan and a wolf howling at the moon appeared on the marked spot.

they exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with warmth and affection. I couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm, grateful for their unwavering support. We gathered around the counter, raising the bottle of champagne in a silent toast. Despite the challenges ahead, I knew that with Krystal and Leah by my side, we could overcome anything. As we clinked glasses and took a sip of the bubbly liquid, a sense of optimism filled the air. In my tattoo shop, I was more than just a pawn in Alpha Alexander's game—I was the master of my fate, and nothing could stand in my way.

He thought again, "sinuous, dangerous and supremely sexual." One tattoo in particular was prominent and drew the eye; it was a bright red "slut stamp" very low on her lower back that was repeated low on her belly, just above the pubic mound. It said, in both locations, "Candy Slut to Paulo Zero." The words of the tattoo were in a pre-Columbian language that Barnes would never have a hint of. In addition, like a Bay area poster from the psychedelic era the tat's lettering was very stylized, even if it was in English it would be near impossible to read. Some English word fragments were visible in the edging and lines of the distorted shapes. Incorporated into the tat were sexual images and tri

The day I walked out of the detention center, the sunlight was blinding, almost painful. I stood there for a long time, not moving. Cars passed. People moved along the street. It was as if nothing had ever happened. I lowered my gaze to my wrist. The grinning pumpkin tattoo was still there, the lines sharp and clear. Three years ago, Lily took me to get it. She said it was proof of our friendship. At the time, I’d been happy. Now, it just felt like a cruel joke. I should get rid of this damn thing first. (The End)