Sirius Black Tattoos Novels & Stories

I looked closely at Dave. He has a tattoo on his neck and a piercing on his ear, you won't notice that he has a tattoo on his neck if you don't pay attention to it because of its small size, I frown because I know it's not allowed at school. It's good that the guard is still letting him in. I even met Sirius, my classmate who always asked me to do all his school works, that was not the case for me because he pays a lot. Because he’s rich so that explains it.

"I'll be enjoying every moment of it." My cheeks are steaming red and glancing over at Galina, she is also blushing with her gaze downcast. She proffers me her hand and I wordlessly take it as I'm burning with fury inside over the dastard. My eyes catch sight of the tattoo on his muscled upper arm. The black ink of the Christian Cross encircled by a fierce Dragon, made a dramatic striking contrast against his fair skin. Some girls would think it was bad of a guy, however, to me it was bad news about a guy.

I see the tattoo carved into his skull—a pyramid symbol. Black Mojo. “Where’s the Matron?” His voice is cold, lifeless. I spit blood, crawling back on my elbows. “Go to hell.” He raises his gun. BANG!!!

I want more. I sit up, taking my shirt off, leaving me in only my panties. Scott wet his bottom lip as he stared at my breast, before his eyes connect with the tattoo on my stomach. He stops. "You weren't kidding huh?" He asked, lowering his head to stare at the black paint on my pale skin. "Nope" "My Phoenix" he reads it out, a smile on his face. "You got this for me" He says and I nod. "You didn't have to babe"

Tha- He-' His mind was almost refusing to register what was in front of him. Braum slowly raised his hand and pointed towards Christopher his hand shaking, and mouth agap. Everyone followed his finger and jaws dropped. On Christopher's chest was a large tattoo of a Wolfs head with blood dripping from it's fangs. It was The crest of The Black Guard.

“Come back soon, okay?” “Okay,” she hung up then. “I’m going to town. Am I needed for anything?” I asked Mr Stark when he walked in. My eyes were glued to the tattoos littered all over his upper body. His left sleeve looked like a forest scenery of some sort. Right at the back, he had numbers, a date, with a tiny baby handprint. I wondered what they meant. “You can go,” he said his back to me. ***** | Emmanuel Stark |

It was a black dragon with wings, surrounded by black roses. “You have a weird tattoo,” I commented out of the blue. He lowered his gaze to his forearm. “All members of the Anderson Mafia have this kind of tattoo. It serves as our identification.” I fell silent, staring at it intently. For some unknown reason, that symbol is familiar to me. I tried to dig into my memory to recall where I’d seen that tattoo before, but it only caused my head to ache, prompting me to rub my temples. Cole quickly attended to me.

Her completely naked body was now facing her man’s view. “What’s the matter, baby?” She eyed him carefully up and down and her gaze stopped on his muscular chest. She starred at that part for a few minutes. On his chest had appeared a new black tattoo in the shape of the letter ‘S’. It was surrounded by nine different greek characters.

He rasped, ignoring that he had frightened the living daylight out of me. "Why?" I asked, still panting. Sin halted in his tracks. I glimpsed a tattoo I hadn't noticed on his back. It was a wolf with the inscription Blue Moon written underneath. It was large and it covered half part of his back. I wonder why I hadn't noticed because he was shirtless earlier. It was because you were busy ogling him! Inner me jeered. I rolled my eyes and gazed back at him. "In as much as I detest you. I don't want to be blamed for your death. Also, you need to do as you are told without questioning me." He grunted, walking away from me.

“Don’t worry, okay? Everything’s going to be alright.” I ask him about the mission, but he says that the Black Tiger is going to explain everything to me. Can you believe it? Everyone knows he doesn’t talk to anyone. I step outside, and see him riding a motorcycle in front of the building. He’s wearing a black silk shirt, opened to the chest, showing his pale skin. His hair is styled messily, with some strands covering his eyes. His gloved hands are on the grips, ready to start the vehicle. He turns his head and looks at me, and his dark stare makes my body shiver.