Star Wars Tattoos For Men Novels & Stories

For the most part, the packs got along but there was still always a sense of authority that was tested. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you look good. Can’t be representing our pack badly.” Jacob was getting our Crest tattooed on his chest. It was the head of a wolf with its teeth showing and blue blood dripping from the fangs. Kind of spot on for whoever designed it but whatever.

Or at least, I try. But my gaze never makes it to his face. Instead, it lands on them. His tattoos. Dark ink sprawls across his chest in a masterpiece of meaning I can’t quite decipher. Hawks take flight from his ribs, their wings stretching wide, as if fleeing something unseen. Beneath them, shadows curl into thorned branches, creeping toward his arms, where they twist into something darker—skulls hidden within the tangle, their hollow eyes watching. And beneath it all, symbols—sharp, cryptic, carved into his skin like remnants of a past that refuses to be forgotten.

He turns to the bartender who came over as soon as he saw us "Get her some girly shit. Light. I'll take whiskey on the rocks" "Hey" "You're not getting drunk on my watch" I'm about to protest when he shows me the tattoo between his index and middle finger. He's trying to distract me but I'll fall for it because I'm curious "It's our tattoo. Only high-ranking members get it. Your father, Angelo, us, and a few guys have it"

The male is a literal piece of artwork. More dark ink is etched across his hard pectorals and down his ripped abs, and all the lines perfectly connect together like a map of the territories. The tattoos stop right where a formal pack suit would no longer cover his skin. Everything about Ivanov Drakos screams professional leader on the territory streets, and total bad boy on the furs. The alpha looks like a literal rock star with a perfect muscle V that points directly down to his massive package. Pulling my eyes away from his body, I suddenly realize he is staring straight back at my face with a knowing smile. The moment my wolf snaps out of the trance, he waves a claw, motioning for my boot

He looked so peaceful yet so… I couldn't get a name for it. I traced my fingers over his extravagant tattoos, most of which were a mixture of ravens, artistic guns and bleeding roses. Was he ex-military or mafia? Or both? Because if he was, that'd be cool. The man who chose to hide behind a mask and answer a quirky name — GunsAreCool. The man who gave me the best blowjob of my life.

Don’t tell me, they actually got one of their men to work with the lights…to give a dramatic effect? That’s absolute cringe! The man stands before us, a sinister smirk on his tattooed bald head, almost similar to Suho’s. only that they have a huge difference in race. He isn’t Korean. None of them are. Then wh- Before I can even complete the thought, my eyes fall on the tattoo mark on the man’s head, and this time I actually take a good look. It’s not the bleeding Dragon like Suho’s. It’s something else. It’s a huge ass Scorpion.

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.

“He had a partner. Both of them stole almost a million from me. They split it and ran away the moment I found out.” “Oh.” I looked down. I don’t think I like talking to him about his job. It’s intense- he was intense. Despite being blessed with great looks, he was dangerous. What he does makes lives unpredictable… especially for him. He was the leader and I’m sure a lot of dangerous men like himself are after him. My eyes suddenly caught the tattoos that adorned his fingers. This managed to make me divert the subject. “Can I see your hands?” He raised a brow questioningly. Either way he reached out his hand for me to take it. The forefinger and the pinky have wings. One wing on each side. Th

He also loves showing off his tattoos – he has tribal tattoos all over his chest and arms. Tattoos aren’t fun at the best of times, but they’re more painful for us wolves. We heal too fast and don’t scar easily so the only way to get tattoos is to use a tattoo gun made with pure silver because any injury caused by silver once healed leaves a scar. Gamma James’ tattoos are basically a giant warning sign screaming ‘I’m dangerous and pain means nothing to me.’ “Just once I wish my old man would wear a shirt,” whispers a voice beside me and I have to stifle a chuckle.

“Happy Birthday Ahsoka. Now we are complete and everyone will know you are mine. Come let’s shower.” I follow him to the bathroom and Nico turns on the shower, letting it warm up. I look in the mirror at my mark. It’s a crescent moon with a wolf’s head howling in the middle of it. There are also angel wings coming out on either side of the moon. It looks like a tattoo the size of my palm. Nico comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “All mine,” he whispers, kissing the back of my shoulder.