Gangster Pitbull Tattoo Designs Novels & Stories

I hear him curse at me as I'm knocked on my ass. "Watch where you're walking," His voice is a growl and so not appreciated after the time I've had. I look up to see a face I don't recognize. Someone completely unknown to me. I open my mouth to tell him exactly what's on my mind-none of it is nice mind you-and I abruptly stop when I catch sight of the tattoo on his inner forearm. A tattoo I've seen many times on many different people. It's an oddly shaped star of sorts with what looks like two scythes circling it. A very specific type of tattoo. A specific gang tattoo. A tattoo I'm all too familiar with.

After I shower, I opt for a wife beater and a pair of loose-fitting shorts. My right forearm is still scabbed over from my latest tattoo. Every time I look at it, I am proud that I now have my pack displayed on my body. It had taken me a while to draw out the design just the way I wanted it to look. It depicts a full moon coming up over a hazy horizon. A wolf's head with bright red eyes is baring its teeth as it emerges forth from the moons' surface.

“No. If Sienna still sent you here despite our warning then you may as well come in.” I nodded and took a step into the room, aware of the smell of men. Axe body spray and sweat. The only men I have been close to are my father's and my brothers. Everyone knew you didn't mess with the daughter of a Capone. This men had no idea who I was. “I want a tattoo.” “Figured. What do you want?” I looked at the guy that was on the table, the intricate design of a dragon on his back. It looked beautiful, free.

I loved that he didn’t shave or wax all the way… it seemed more manly to me, plus it was soft to the touch and I couldn’t wait to feel more. He had tattoos, but he wasn’t tatted out like I had expected from a biker. He had the Dogs of Fire logo on his inner forearm, and that same arm was sleeved up to his shoulder. The other arm was also sleeved, but ended at the elbow. Down his left side and slightly across his ribs was a black and white tattoo of the lily flower with the word “Lily” interwoven in the design.

A pentagon tattoo sitting just under his eyes, a symbol of his father's gang. "You took the coward's way out. You know you can never win in a fair race. Because that's all you are a stupid rich coward". I sneered back and Ryder looked taken aback for a second before he laughed. "Look who grew wings over the night. Let's see again after the match. After I win, you owe me a drink". He flicked my forehead before smirking and walking back to his car. The girls suddenly put their hands all over him.

“I liked the tattoo scene, where he’s being interviewed by the gangsters, and his life story is in his tattoos.” In the movie, Viggo Mortensen is covered in elaborate tattoos, and each one holds a piece of information: where he had been in prison, how long, what he had served time for, what his various roles in the mob had been. The gangsters who are considering making him a ‘made man’ knew the symbolism and could tell everything about his life just by looking at those tattoos. “That was cool,” I agreed, then added as an afterthought, “I don’t even like tattoos, but that was cool.”

If they have Bella and my unborn child, they are as good as dead. “Fuck, hopefully they don't know she is pregnant because they will use this against you. We did find tattoos on all of them. I have never seen these tattoos before on other gangs or mafia. Whoever it is was fast and knew what they were doing.” Richard said as he showed me a photo of the tattoo’s on the men we had killed. “A scorpion?” “Yes, everyone has it on the back of their necks. If we can find the person who had done this, we can find whoever was behind this attack.”

I laid down on the bed as Phil, the tattoo artist, started working on my new ink. Josh was on another bed adding to the sleeve on his arm. My tattoo was half of a wolf’s face in a Samoan design with the caption ‘Fight or Die’ underneath it. Josh had phoned some old friends he still had and had arranged for an introduction to the man that ran the fight nights in California. We went to the first one and just watched. The place was packed and I felt sure that I could have taken that night’s fighters easily.

Alpha Anton P.O.V Today, I haven't much to do. I've worked so hard daily; I have done every work I needed to do. The pack was fine. All I had to do now was to listen out for any danger alert, which barely happened. Outsiders are so terrified by me no one wants to get on my bad side. Sometimes I'm so bored I want to take a break from my land for a while and chase any criminal I see just for fun. My wolf needed to attack and chase something. Sometimes my wolf felt like it wanted to claw its ways outside of me and run wild. Last night I barely had any sleep after Thruce had completed my tattoo. It is a bad-ass tattoo covering my entire chest and both hands. A word us to describe it how it looke

Granted, his past was tame compared to the shit she’d pulled, not that she’d shared the worst of it with anyone and she suspected he held secrets pretty close to his incredible chest too. “I hate it when you look at me like that,” he said. “Umm. Like what?” Like I wanna lick you up one side and down the other? “Like I’m a lab rat.” India let her thumb arc over his cheekbone. “Not a lab rat. A guinea pig.” “Great. That’s so much better.” “I sketched a new tattoo design I’d like to try on you.” “Yeah? Maybe once my ass is healed you can turn the puncture wound into one of them cool, fake bullet holes you see on motorcycles and pickup tailgates.”