Inner Forearm Tattoos For Guys Novels & Stories

All the waiting people have their eyes cast down except for three. A 5’8” man in an olive green shirt – that looks far too tight for his muscular frame – that shows off a colourful and intricate sleeve tattoo on his left arm, and camouflage pants. His black hair is cropped short to his scalp, he has dark brown eyes, a thick muscular neck, round jaw, square chin and just from looking at him I can tell he’s a cruel man. I can see it in his eyes.

– He declared, letting go of my wrist, passing his thumb over his mouth, my eyes fixed on that man with a broad, defined chest, with a pecs designed as if he had been sculpted. On his neck he had a tattoo of a dragon that released a blue-green flame from its mouth.

Like a neon flash light, he’d gone from frowning to relaxed face. His brown leather jacket is gone, tossed somewhere inside, leaving his arms bare in the short sleeved shirt, covered in black ink. In the low light of the garage, the tattoos look foreign, like a mess of Chinese characters I can’t make sense of. They aren’t pretty. They look dangerous. He looks dangerous. The ink runs down his forearms, disappearing into the skin of his knuckles, where veins flex and shift with every move. Layers of silver ring line his fingers.

Esmeray held her forearm up, examining the intricate tattoo that adorned her skin. The tattoo depicted a majestic wolf, its eyes fierce and determined, surrounded by swirling patterns that seemed to dance with a life of their own. The lines were bold and precise, giving the impression of strength and resilience. “This tattoo is so unique,” Esmeray remarked, tracing her fingers over the contours of the design. “I’ve always felt a connection to it, but I never knew why.”

He put the boxers back in his closest. He walked back. His all tattoos were visible. The first time his upper half was revealing the one tattoo that was stretched along his neck. The ink on his neck was a snake circling his neck like a permanent choker, the pattern looked like a compressed font of Devil with its scary fangs looking like they are permanently feeding on his blood. He also has many tattoos on his arm making a sleeve like an illusion on his right arm and also covering a little part of his chest.

I slowly turned around, caged in his arms, and slowly undressed him. “Why are your tattoos only on your arms and hands,” I asked, running my hands over his bare chest, no ink in sight. No ink on his legs or back. Just full arm sleeves. He smiled. “I just wasn’t into going everywhere. I figured I’d pick one area and concentrate on that, maybe branch out, but I never have. Plus the scars I had from some shit growing up were all on my arms. Why don’t you have any at all,” he asked, kissing my shoulder, then my neck.

With one large arm still looped around me. Finn crashes in through the front door. Not stopping as he charges up the stairs. It’s only when we are outside his room that he sets me down. He shifts back to human form right in front of me. Not a single care that he was naked. He had muscles like Nate’s. Maybe a little bigger. But all the men here seemed to look like that under their clothes. Finn had tattoos too. Large tribal patterns ran up over his chest and shoulders. When he was wearing a shirt, you couldn’t see what was underneath.

If this man dies, so do I. The wound pulses beneath my hands, pumping out heat and life I can't seem to stop. My breath hitches, and I rip the shirt wider. I am desperate to get a better look, to find the bleeding, to do something but that's when I see it. The faint trace of a tattoo on his forearm, peeking through smeared blood. It is not a lot but just enough to let the design show.

It took us so long to get her back, I was dreading losing her, but I wouldn’t keep her in the dark about it. Walk into the room and see Joker with a new tattoo on his forearm; it appears to be a symbol and a pattern of something ancient. Something you would think a warrior would choose for himself for protection. All of his tattoos made no sense to anyone but Joker. I doubt anyone would be brave enough to question him. Glancing over at Queenie, I see her left forearm has black lace starting to connect the empty spaces to complete her sleeve. It looked so real, like you could pick it up off her skin.

I also noticed his tattoos stretching from his wrist to his neck to his other wrist. It reminded me of Ace and how his sleeve stops near his shoulder where as this guy had both arms covered. "Do you like my tattoos?" he pulled up his sleeve, showing me more of the tattoos. "Yeah, they're cool" I commented, not trying to come off as flirty.