Male Classy Ring Tattoos Novels & Stories

He looked like the kind of guy who had built up muscles by good genes and manual labor rather than sweating it out in a gym. He had tattoos as well, which I don’t normally like – but they added to the bad boy image in a way that was irresistible. He wore a leather band around one wrist and a couple of rings on his fingers – rings that looked like he’d bought them from a street vendor who made her own stuff. One was pounded silver, with hammer marks all over the metal. Another was a really cool twining pattern of copper strands. Neither was on his left ring finger. The rings made me look at his hands… and his hands made me think of a master artist carving them from a block of rare wood. They

I couldn’t focus on what he was saying at all, my attention completely stolen by his bare chest. I couldn’t help but notice the armband tattoo on his left arm. The word “Moretti” was inked in a beautiful Old English font, with detailed lines making it look even cooler. His tattoos just added to that tough, masculine vibe he had going on. Then I saw the tattoo on his back. A raven, placed right in the middle of his back, near his shoulders and neck. It was so well done, I couldn’t stop staring at it, totally impressed.

he thought. The flat, oval bezel of the ring was engraved with a stylized image of a woman done with a few circles and curving lines. Above the woman was a circle that Brayden took to be the full moon. The figure seemed primitive but with a grace of form and energy that reminded him of some of the early Celtic or Scythian work. Perhaps he wouldn't have it cut off after all.

As my eyes follow his neck I find our mark sitting there like the most beautiful tattoo with its simplicity. The triple moon sits on our neck, the outlines clean and crisp. Inside the full moon sits two paw darkened paw prints. Three stars connected by thin lines rest above the full moon and waning crescent. Tracing the image I enjoy watching Damon shiver while I whisper, "it's beautiful."

My head was down, scraping the brush against the dustpan, when I saw it. It wasn't glittering like glass. It was heavy, dark gold, catching the light in a muted, ancient way. Nestled right beside the base of the fig tree, half-hidden beneath a stray leaf, was a ring. My hand shot out, snatching it up before I could think. It was heavy, solid, and cold , a man's ring, thick and old. It wasn't flashy; it was subtly engraved with a seal, a stylized 'G' that looked almost like a coiled serpent. It was clearly antique, the kind of ring that had been passed down through generations, steeped in history and, likely, sin.

Eventually my brother also got dragged into the conversation and blamed for the tattoo just as he had been blamed for the first one. Speaking of my beautiful little brother I glanced down the other end of the bar where Mark was talking to Mitch and a couple of his biker buddies and stared at his right arm where the other half of my money had gone. Like mine Mark's tattoo covered his arm from shoulder to elbow and was an evil version of the great god Pan. This wasn't the silly looking Greek Pan, this was the original Celtic version complete with horns, hooves, red glaring eyes and a long horn that called to all the lost souls. Between the size, the colors and of course Mark's extremely well m

I smiled, though my body trembled slightly with unease. He smirked, his eyes darkening as he sauntered towards me. Slowly, he reached out, invading my space. My gaze drifted to his chest, where intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin, half of his left chest completely inked. There was a large python coiled menacingly, its fangs bared as if ready to strike. Surrounding it were other symbols—a bleeding dagger, an intricate skull wrapped in thorns, and a blood moon rising behind them all. The ink seemed almost alive, dark and haunting, like it held secrets too dangerous to reveal. I had seen something like this before. The imagery was disturbing, almost as if he were part of some secretive c

It was a one-of-a-kind just like she was. I took it from the case and waited for her to pull her hair up for me. It looked beautiful on her. “The two rings, amber and green, represent you and Moira. They overlap perfectly just like when you’re both present. Zen and I wanted you to know that no matter where you are, you’re with us,” I told them. Then I showed her the matching tattoo on my forearm. Their names were inscribed on the rings. Tears welled up in her eyes as her finger traced the tattoo. Her soft lips pressed a kiss there before leaving a chaste kiss on my own.

The fiery burn lingered in my throat. "Nothing's wrong with being a gentleman, but pretending to be one just to impress women doesn't make you one." I smirked, taking another swig of whiskey. I surveyed his outfit, taking in every detail. He wore a vivid red shirt left open to showcase a muscular chest inked with a roaring lion whose fiery orange mane seemed to reach beyond his skin. Leonardo. Lion-hearted. That tattoo made perfect sense. A golden cross lay nestled atop the lion's mane, glinting in the light like a beacon of faith. It was clear that Leonardo wore his heart on his sleeve. His was a tattooed visual representation of his inner fire.

"And one day, I presented her with the ring you wear, He looked at it. The top of it holding the yellow stone glittered, Xander saying,"As we maintain Order, every new Don of Carnefecina gets the tattoo of all nine planets on their back. A sign of balance. Perfection. Something beautiful from chaos, but every Don that rules, is given two things. A ring called Halo that reminds one of the Sun, to show their power over other things and the other, a crescent moon with a star, to be given to who the Don keeps higher than themselves. In other words, if there's a life or death situation, also called Venus bearer's life would be put first before the Don himself,"