Womb Tattoo Temporary Novels & Stories

He texted me the address, when I got there Kenzo was standing outside of a tattoo parlor. "I feel really bad for making things weird between us. This is my way of saying sorry. I hope we can back to normal after this." I gave Kenzo a hug, "thank you! I am so excited!" We went in and the tattoo artist designed two tattoo's based on my wishes. I wanted to get some small flowers on my shoulder and Elias’ name on my wrist. It didn’t hurt as much as I thought and I was so happy with how it looked. Because I am a werewolf the tattoo would heal much faster than on a human. I gave Kenzo another hug after we left the parlor.

It will all be crossed out with a red X. The tattoo won't fade until her mate mates and marks her. She will never find another mate and she won't feel much love until her mate mates and marks her. Her wolf will never rest and she will be very tired. She will die if her mate doesn't mark or mate her within 1 month of her tattoo. The last line scared me the most.

When they rode down from the shockwave sweet delirium of their pleasure, Aiden picked up the tattoo machine sitting idly in the table before them and waved it in front of Kate. Smiling she said. “I want it drawn here.” Aiden dragged his eyes down to what Kate was gesturing for him to see. Kate flipped her Tshirt up, baring her stomach for him to see. She knew other pornstars had their Brazzers emblem drawn on parts of their skin where people can easily spot them but she doesn’t want it. For the sake of her father and Tiffany and her son, Gabby.

As long as I ended the pregnancy without the child knowing, he would have no way to harm me. At my request, the doctor stayed completely silent throughout the process. The child inside me had no idea that I was already signing the voluntary abortion consent form. Just before entering the operating room, I suddenly caught sight of two familiar figures slipping past the far end of the hallway. I followed them and realized they were Daniel and Emily. What were they doing in the maternity ward? When I looked closer, my heart clenched. Emily's lower belly was slightly swollen. They were there for a prenatal checkup. But hadn't Emily been infertile? Then what was that baby bump?

Soonie noticed too, her breath hitching as he reached forward again, this time slower, and brushed his thumb along the ink. It flaked. A sticker. A damn sticker. The realization hit like cold water. His anger faltered, his hand lowering. “What the hell…” he muttered. Soonie jerked her wrist away, her voice shaking. “It’s not real. I got it for a charity event the company did days ago. It's a temporary ink tattoo for the children’s hospital. It washes off. The real one’s on my shoulder, not my wrist.” Damon stared at her, guilt and disbelief crashing into each other.

The skin around the gash was red and puffy, and it stung fiercely as the maid dabbed at it with a new, clean cloth. She then gathered a spool of pristine white linen bandages from her basket of supplies and placed it on the vanity. She reached back to the basket, this time choosing a small earthenware jar, and the sleeve of her dress rode up slightly to reveal a strange white tattoo. The symbol was like nothing I had ever seen before. It consisted of a series of moons, each in a different phase and arranged in a circle to complete the cycle. White script in a language that I couldn’t read looped around the edge of the moons, spiraling inwards towards the center of the cycle.

His eyes fell back to the baby just as a faint glow lit up her tiny wrist. A gasp escaped him. A mark appeared—round and lifelike, a perfect image of the full moon. The woman saw it too and released a labored sigh of relief. Arthur reached out and gently touched the mark. It shimmered before dimming into what looked like a simple tattoo. The woman stirred one last time. “Call her Arda,” she whispered, and then her body went still. Arthur swallowed hard as the baby’s cries grew louder, her tiny voice filled with grief and fear.

“But I like these marks on you. They are proof that you are mine.” “Isn’t this baby enough proof that I am yours and you are mine?” I was pregnant with his baby. We were yet to find out the gender but more than that we were so excited for this baby. After 3 years of dating and 10 months of our marriage, this was the best news ever. “It is, but sometimes, these temporary tattoos on your skin are also very pretty.” “Yeah, yeah. I don’t understand this fantasy of men and their attempts to mark their women. It’s such an alpha thing.”

"Abby, you know I've always hated kids. But my husband is barely coming home anymore. I can't lose him! If I do, this life I've worked so hard for will be gone! I need a baby right now to secure my place in the family. "Abby, please, have a baby for me. It won't hurt you at all. I'm just borrowing your womb for a few months. We're best friends. You wouldn't just stand by and watch my life fall apart, would you?"

The three marks on Wren’s inner forearm itched with a low, persistent thrum, a living tattoo of longing etched into her skin by a ritual gone beautifully, catastrophically wrong. They weren't scars, but claims waiting to be made. One for tender worship, one for rude praise, one for slow dominance. Tonight, the first of them, a silvery crescent like a wolf’s gentle bite, burned with a need that was becoming a torment.