Spine Tattoos Quotes Novels & Stories

He can’t spare me, no matter how compliant I am. He stands from the bed and removes every piece of clothing from his body. The tattoos expand from his chest to his stomach, down to his strong torso. Black ink against his tanned skin. There are so many things written in Russian. But one particular thing catches my eye, it’s on his left torso, big and clear, “ To forgive is to sin.” The words send shivers racing down my spine. Who on earth writes something like that on their body? Not just write, but brand it into their skin permanently.

His tattoos are exposed as he flexes his arm to reach for a cigarette from Zack. He should be careful, his liver will only last so long. Asshat. "What's a pretty girl like you doing on her own?" __________________ Vote Comment Your weight doesn't define your health! ~T

My mouth began going down from kissing his neck to that strong broad chest, my eyes were closed but then I looked up to catch his expression after he held back a groan in his throat, but my eyes landed on his chest who welcome me with a new tattoo, I brushed my fingers on the ink, This tattoo was a combination of words which I knew was Spanish, those words were completing a circle and huge deadly snake was printed between them, starting from Amor (Love), Escapar (Escape), Desamor (Heartbreak), Venganza (Revenge), Misión (Mission), I could few words of it. “What is this, Armando,” I examined the details of that horrific tattoo, my eyes couldn’t move from it, It was obvious from some words tha

"Indulge in your voice while you can. There will come a time when screaming will not be an option. Also insulting Nickel only turns him on. More tethers, the servant needs to be stilled." The tom ran his paws over Spitfire's marked arms, hovering, not touching. The lines began to glow. And then they began to itch. "Then me and Nickel are going to get along just fine." Spitfire snarled, trying to ignore the itching feeling. It was bad enough that he'd been Marked just a few hours ago and the tattoos hadn't fully healed. But now this dickhead was using some kind of magick to make them itch like the ink was made of poison ivy. "Because I've got nothing but insults for this limp-dicked moron. He

Me staring at a naked guy for the second time in my damn life. My breath caught in my throat, trapped. I was trapped. My eyes completely rebelled against my brain's frantic commands to look the fuck away. Instead, they traced the dark, heavy ink of a tattoo etched across his upper shoulder blades. Three words, bold and unyielding: "Built Through Pain." The script wasn't flashy or arrogant. It felt heavy. It looked like a scar turned into art—a quiet testament to something survival-driven. A strange, unbidden ache blossomed in my chest just looking at it.

His voice broke the silence, and I froze in my tracks. He turned his head slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “You can touch it. It doesn’t sting.” I hesitated, my fingers twitching at my sides. “Can I?” I asked softly. “Of course,” he replied, his tone calm and inviting. My hand moved almost on its own, reaching out to trace the lines of the tattoo. His skin was warm under my fingertips, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the artistry. But then, my eyes caught something else—a tiny inscription running down his spine vertically, just below the scorpion.

The spray of the cold water hot my skin, causing me to grind my teeth but it doesn't deter me. I reached across him, and gently tug the loofah from his hands. He doesn't turn to face me, so I applied more soap, and started scrubbing his back. Achilles back was covered with more tattoos than I had realized. I traced a red lotus flower with my finger. It had thorns wrapped around it, with blood dripping from it. “What does it mean?” The silence stretched. Just when I thought he would say nothing, he spoke. “Just a stupid tattoo I got as a teen.”

Dropping out was the best decision; his work was exceptional, and he quickly had a large fan base. "So what does this one say?" My mom asks as she helps me step into her old dress. S "Your past does not equal your future," I reply, watching as a tear threatens to spill from my mom's eye. Jason doesn't know that I'm a werewolf, but he did know I had a hard time growing up and had been bullied previously. When he heard the quote in his favorite little cafe, he shared it with me, and it's stuck ever since. I needed some serious ink therapy last week, and I asked Jason to tattoo whatever he wanted on me, knowing his choice would be something I liked, and he gifted me with this, and then some gre

Scar shouted before Jasmine disappeared into the room. ______________ Jasmine settled on the chair provided for her as she examined the different designs of tattoos on the walls, "Did you design all of these?" She asked pointing at the drawings as Alejandro turned around to look at what she was pointing at, "Yes, I did," he replied as Jasmine continued to admire the drawings in awe, "They're beautiful," she said as Alejandro chuckled before walking towards her with the materials to get started, "Thank you, so what would you like to get?" He asked as Jasmine lay back with a grin on her face, "I'd like to get a Japanese dragon with words at the end of its tail," she said as Alejandro looked at

I have explained. “When did you get them?” He asked as his fingers traced the tribal tattoo on my spine. “On my 24th birthday.” I smiled. "What does it mean?" I hummed. “I don't know. I just thought it looked cool, plus Darius' beta mate encouraged me to do it. She said and I quote – tattoos add to your personality, make you look tougher and scarier.” I chuckled at what the girl said. "However, I'm not sure, but I like it."