Drogon Tattoo Novels & Stories

I sat on the bed in the room and waited for him, he threw his shirt off exposing his well build abs a clear sign of countless years of hitting the gym, he had a dragon tattoo on his back and on his chest and stomach were faces of different women I could only conclude that he was keeping tabs of the women he had fucked on his body as tattoos and if I let him live past today he might probably add mine to it. I scoffed as I unzipped my bag to see if everything was intact, I smiled to myself as I imagined my next move, Alonzo was pretty smart and at this point I thought using a gun might just be a waste of time. I didn’t bother coming with one because it could have been detected at the door.

The defined ridges of his shoulders and trapezius muscles stood out, evidence of his strength and physique. Even If it wasn’t my first time, I was always drawn to the tattoo there. It was a mesmerizing blend of art. A majestic dragon’s head dominated his upper back, its scales shimmering like diamonds in the soft light. The dragon’s body curled around his lower torso, its tail snaking down to his lower back where it merged with a Celtic knot pattern. The tattoo always seemed to come alive when his muscles flexed as it did now. His long dark hair fell around his shoulders, water droplets clinging to the strands, wet locks contrasting against his bronze skin.

Leonidas stared at his friend as the male got another tattoo on his back, the red panther tattoo being his neck being the only red thing in the sea of black creatures and words. The man doing the tattoo, a Dionysus Familia, by the name of Stratos, a friend of Loukas made him felt a bit uncomfortable because of his way of speaking and numerous rings on his nose but there was nothing he could tell Loukas to change the male's mind on him. Leonidas felt his eyes stray again to the red tattoo on Loukas' back, a little bit of jealousy filling him.

Garren lifted his arm, reaching for the back of his shirt as he pulled it over his head. I forgot how to breathe as I took in Garren's bare chest. His muscles flexed with each movement sending heat to my core. My heart skipped a beat as I was gifted the full view of his tattoo. A dragon sat on each shoulder, their tails wrapping around his biceps as they breathed fire toward his heart. Words and symbols of a different language were woven into the scales of each dragon. My fingers twitched, and the overwhelming need to run my fingers over the intricate designs had me curling my fingers into fists and taking a step back.

As they entered the final courtyard, three figures rushed toward Adrian, but they were swiftly subdued by the Draco Force and collapsed to the ground. The seventh-grade men knelt before Adrian, trembling uncontrollably, unable to move or speak. "It appears to be you three," Adrian remarked, lifting the constraints on them. "What brings you to our establishment?" inquired the leader. The man’s upper body was exposed, revealing a black dragon tattoo adorning his back. Unlike the vibrant tattoos on Thalia, this one appeared crude and cheap.

"You are?" He pulls up his jacket sleeve to reveal a Dragon tattoo. "The names Cain." I turn to him. He looks Dragon. Tattooed in weird rune like ink. Black hair shaved high and massive. I walk to him slowly. I pull out my phone. "One touch and I have the Unit down on this place faster than you can run." I point my phone at him. "You fuck with me, and the Unit will carry your body out in pieces." "I'm Ex-dragon dude. Your threats don't scare me." He tips his beer back. "You want Alexi or what?"

he said, scooting forward on the cushion. Trey had a new tattoo, a black Chinese dragon a bit smaller than Zane’s hand running up the left half of his abdomen. This was no press on. The skin around the design was pink from healing. The dragon’s tail curled around the hefty base of Trey’s erection, the final pointy tip extending onto his penile skin on the underside. Zane’s breath hissed in at the thought of artist’s needle shooting ink into him there. Getting this tattoo must have burned like a mother.

Was it to entrap one before cruelly shredding them to the last piece? Drogo's long lashes are pressed against his strong cheekbone. He has a fine sharp nose, chiseled lips, and a sandy beard I could help myself to run a finger over. For a moment, I forget everything. Forrget the cruel fate awaiting me in his hands and simply stare at his masterful frame. I let my finger run over his neck, his collarbone, and then to the dark crack tattoos on his chest. Even though they scream cruel and untold stories, I stupidly find them intriguing.

Dragon starts rolling up his sleeves, revealing faded Calavera tattoos, “Chain’s fine. Got a tension tool in my box. I’ll fix it antes de que (before) sundown.” Poking at the rusted exhaust, “Pfft. Tool ain’t magic, kid. And this exhaust? Sounds like a dying chupacabra.” Dru stifles a laugh. I shoot her a glare, but I'm trying to hide my own smirk with my beard. Dragon shakes his head, then glances up towards Dru on the porch, “¿En serio (Seriously) You think I’d let her hurt? I seen what happens when you don’t guard your crew.” Dragon rolls up his sleeve further, revealing a tattooed date—“2003–2019”—inked beneath the Calavera’s hollow eyes. The numbers curl like smoke from a prayer candle,

Dorin looked troubled. “You think we can still take it back?” Asked Johan, “I really don’t like them touching Dragon...” “No touch.” Dagon answered from the couch where he sat with Azra sleeping by his side. “Only Daa touch.” “Well, for now, that will do.” Dorin said with a flourish, looking at his handy work. “The ink should keep, I made it water and fade proof, just don’t scrub on it too hard. “Got it,” answered Johan who hurriedly put his new dragon scale tunic on. “Let’s get going to the kitchens then...” he put a shirt on top of his tunic since the weather was beginning to get colder.