Storyline Tattoos Novels & Stories

Azrael and Hunter have the same matching tattoos. It is just an inscription in Greek. I begged my dad and after persuading him for months he allowed me have it. I replied the message. Guess I have a date this Saturday.

“No. I just… wish I could touch them. No. She can’t. The tattoos—they look good. That’s the point. Years of careful planning, hours under the needle, making sure they were beautifully arranged, each one flowing into the next. I spent a fortune making them look like art. But they’re not just ink. They’re cover-ups. Because if she touches them—really touches them—she’ll feel what’s underneath. The scars. The ones that don’t sit flush with the skin. The ones the artists had to work around, blend into shadows, hide beneath shading and lines. And I can’t have that. Not now. Maybe not ever. Because those scars… they come with stories. Stories I’ll never tell. “Get on your feet,” I say. “I want to

A story I wanted to read. “Hayden…” I whispered. “What’s that one?” He stepped out, shirtless. Shadows hit his tattoos. Each one alive. Dangerous. Marked. Mine to claim if I dared. “You’re staring,” he said, voice low. “I can’t help it. You look… tempting.” That made him laugh. “But seriously, do your tattoos tell stories? Why mark yourself?” “To remind me of things that changed me,” he said. “And mostly because I like to feel the pain of being marked.”

see you both together!” She added. “Ink walked round and clapped Alex on the back “anything you want to tell me brother?” He asked. His eyes twinkled, like he knew exactly what he was going to say. “I’m claiming Bella, she’s my girl, she’s my Old Lady. I love her, and she has just moved in with me.” He explained, pride showing in his face. Tina squealed. “What wonderful news! Congratulations you two!” “Thank you, T, Bella doesn’t want to wear a cut, can you tattoo her please Prez?” “Sure, where are you thinking?” “I want it on the inside of my arm, running down to my wrist. Is that ok?” I looked to Alex for his approval. “Perfect baby, everyone will see that.” He smiled down at me. I loved

Many of them were just lying down at the back so they would not participate and so we won't notice them when they walk away to their homes and begun their daily activities without a prayer of guidance to Selene which was said while everyone was down in their knees facing the sunrise and in the evenings, we say it facing the sunset. “Done!” Shane said getting up and taking off his shirt showing properly tanned skin layered with his abs and the muscles on his arms were designed with tattoos that meant many things. There was a tattoo of his mate whom he had just gotten a back view of her when he first met her, she was Hispanic so he'd told the tattoo artist to draw a girl's head - the backview

“Tell me about the tattoo.” He sighs before going on, as if he regrets starting down this road with me. “I’ve never seen anything like it. That was part of the reason I wanted to do it. It was a nice piece. Stormy seas, breaking waves on these crags that jutted out of the water like shark teeth - lots of lines and shadows, lots of small hidden images within, even the shadow of a girl’s face. Your face, Loli. That’s how I know.”

“I’m here for a tattoo.” He leaned back, arms folding across his broad chest. The motion made the fabric of his shirt strain. “You? A tattoo?” He laughed, low and cruel. “Let me guess. Tiny heart on your wrist? Or maybe a quote about ‘strength’ in some flowery script so everyone knows how deep you are.” I pulled out my phone and showed him the design. “Lower back. Crescent moon with vines. I have the reference.”

She tossed her leg over mine and leaned in, kissing me deeply. Her tongue slid sensually against mine. The kiss was a little weak, she was already spent, but no less perfect. I could taste myself on her lips just as she could still taste herself on mine. I lazily kissed her back with slow, soft kisses while her delicate fingers gently traced the dark, intricate tattoos winding along my left forearm, fierce wolves, ancient runes, and tribal patterns that told the story of my bloodline and pack. “These are so beautiful,” she whispered against my mouth, her tongue feather-light and reverent. “One day… will you tell me what they all mean?”

"Yeah, I've been with my boss since we were kids—it's been over ten years now. I was an orphan and I was raised by him. We grew up in a poor village, and our parents died early. We had to fend for ourselves from a very young age." His voice gradually grew heavier, as if the weight of those early years was still pressing on him. He continued, "he’s always relied on his own toughness to protect me and the other guys, slowly rising through the ranks in the gang. He went through a lot of hardship to become the leader of the Shark Gang. Take a look at his tattoos—many of them are intricate, aren’t they? They aren’t just random designs. Each one tells a story. Some are to honor the sacrifices of t

These two people have always been so kind to me, I cannot deny them anything. “Ask away.” His shoulders relax instantly, and they both smile kindly at me. “I noticed the beautiful tattoo on your back the other night. Can I ask if there is a special meaning for it?” I smile sadly, thinking of my tattoo. Before I met Grant, I would not even have considered telling them about it, but now, since I have already shared my story once I feel comfortable sharing it with these two, kind people. “Well, I got it done as a memorial of sorts. To remember my dad.”