Your Stuck On Me Like A Tattoo 소설 & 이야기

Why should I be feeling sad because of some tattoo imprinted on his chest? "Hey, what are you thinking about? You challenged me about who would get burned. Are you giving up now?" I shut my eyes and shoved the name written on the tattoo off my memory." "I don't back down," I said boldly.

As she unbuttoned his shirt, she noticed the tattoo of a horse on his neck which was mostly concealed by his shirt. "This is one of Christopher Stallion's men," she said. "What?" "Look at him," she said, pointing to the tattoo. "That is impossible," the governor incredulously. "My men are all trusted men." "But he has the tattoo of a horse on his neck. It would interest you to know that Stallion has a similar tattoo, and so does every member of his gang. Do you doubt it? I have a tattoo of a scorpion on my back because I am a Black Scorpion. All the members of the gangs have tattoos on their bodies."

I swallowed hard. “Yes. The tattoo.” My fingers trembled against my lap. “Nathalia had the same one on her wrist. Smaller… but I’d seen it before. A couple of times, actually. Ever since we met.” Steffano nodded slowly before pulling out his phone. “I’m going to show you something,” he said carefully. “Tell me if this is the same tattoo.” He turned the screen toward me. A snake coiled around stacks of money. The second I saw it, my stomach dropped.

The icy blast would’ve made anyone else recoil, but Dante stood there, solid and unmoving, like he was made of stone. His back was a canvas of ink, just like his front. The artwork was nothing short of breathtaking. Spanning across his entire back was a massive, detailed tattoo—an angel, powerful and divine, standing within the ruins of an ancient temple. The wings spread wide across his shoulder blades, reaching toward his arms, while crumbling pillars surrounded the figure in dramatic grayscale contrast. It wasn’t just a tattoo; it was a story, a testament, a work of devotion etched forever into his flesh. It was absolutely beautiful—mesmerizing, even.

"And I already know you are a stubborn one. You should be getting used to it." I roll my eyes to the back of my head simply. "Take me out of here already." Nico chuckles, the sound sending a chill down my spine. "As you wish." He signals to his men, and they quickly pull me from the chair. As we exit the tattoo parlor, I can't help but glance down at the bold, permanent mark on my skin. It's gonna be a constant reminder of my captivity, of Nico's stupid claim over me. I hate him, I hate this situation, and I hate myself for the way my body reacts to his touch.

My eyes dropped before I could stop them. To his back. And that was when my stomach flipped. A tattoo stretched across his shoulder blade, dark against his skin. Not small. Not decorative. It wasn’t something you’d forget once you saw it. The shape wasn’t perfectly clear in the dim light, but the placement was unmistakable. My mind latched onto it immediately. The club. The low lighting. The bodies are half-hidden in shadow. That same broad back. That same build. I had told myself it was impossible. That memory could be unreliable. That desire and fear blurred things together.

The deep velvety of his voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and he stalked closer to me just as I turned off the machine, and got off. “Do you have something else in mind?” “If you're up for it now, we can get that tattoo you want,” For a moment, I was overwhelmed because he remembered, and I'd always wanted to get the tattoo done for a while now. Every time I saw Tymon's name carved into my skin, it was still a constant reminder that I would never be free. “We can do it later if you—” He started but I cut him off. “No, it's fine. I want to do it now,” I sucked in some air.

“What happened to ‘I’ll never stain my skin’?” “Just shut up and do it.” “What do you want inked?” I tugged my pants down. “Whoa, whoa!” “Relax. It’s just my hip.” I met her eyes, voice dropping. “Tattoo the nail print.”

I pulled out my phone and showed her. “What is that?” “I got stung by a jellyfish. I want the sting as a tattoo. It wraps all the way around my leg from thigh to calf, but skinny lines.” “I see that. Super cute. Email these to me and I’ll do what I can.” She pushed her card over to me. Emailing them, she printed it out, and I took a seat. Pulling out my phone, I sent a picture through a text message. It was of my smiling. Capturing it, tattoo time. I hit send and sent it to Ethan.

she softly replied, holding him tightly still, not overthinking her actions, putting the time on hold. . . . When she flipped her laptop open, she saw herself on the black screen. Before turning the device on, she halted, looking at the twinkling star on her neck. She had already decided to never take it off. It was too beautiful to be anywhere else. On any other day, she wouldn't have minded for the piece of jewelry, disregarding its beauty for its artificiality and discomfort. But for this star she knew, it would never be looked at nonchalantly. It would sit exactly where he wanted it, until the day she died.