Post Malone Oblivion Tattoo Novels & Stories

Sonia didn’t seem convinced by my words but decided to let me be. I went back to work and tried to focus, but my mind wasn’t at rest. I kept thinking of him, my parents' killer. I knew I wasn’t mistaken. He was the one. The tattoo was exactly the same. It was well-crafted and spectacular, not just an ordinary scorpion tattoo but has a signature sign. Something written in foreign letters beside the tattoo; such a tattoo couldn’t be found anywhere else. This tattoo was etched into my memory. Every time I blinked, the image of that scorpion tattoo flashed before my eyes. I wasn’t mistaken. It was him.

His lips touching my skin like if he doesn’t kiss me his life will end. The bite sent my body shaking unable to hold in all the pleasure. I still feel it when I think about it. My new tattoo is everything I wanted it to be. “N” covered in fur with Blue Moon behind it. A “V” covered in fur with a Blue Moon behind it is being added to Nathan’s collarbone. “Everyone is going to wonder why a V and not a T,” I tease him. “You are getting my common name on you.”

Behind the desk sat a massive man with a salt-and-pepper mustache and sunglasses. “Chance?” Matteo asked. “Alpha Matteo!” the man said, grinning. “Take a seat.” “We’ll stand,” Nickie said, his eyes locking on the man’s hand. On the back of the man’s hand was the tattoo. The serpent and the moon. “What’s the ink mean?” Nickie asked, his voice lethal. “It’s about renewal,” Chance said calmly. “The snake sheds its skin. The moon turns. Life through death. It’s the mark of the Velvet Syndicate.”

Katherine pov For me, the sexiest spot a tattoo can be found is on a man’s rib and of course his fingers. I’ve heard a number of time how painful getting one on those spots can be, maybe that’s why I find it sexy. But is that why I can’t tear my eyes off this hot dude across this counter as well?

Zach Romano. Leaning against the kitchen doorway like it belonged to him. His black hair was a mess, his blue eyes flat, unreadable, and his bare chest on full display, carved with muscle and shadow. On his ribs, a tattoo stretched over olive skin, an Italian cross with Latin scrawled underneath. Mors tua, vita mea. Your death, my life. I stared at the tattoo. Then, slowly, my eyes dropped to his torso. Abs, tight and low, vanishing into a pair of dark gray sweatpants slung dangerously low on his hips.

That night, Henry finally let go of all restraint. The room lay in shadow, and he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, the lights of Riverton flickering like stars beyond the glass. “Claire…” “Yes?” “I want to get another tattoo.” “Where?” He gripped my hand and pressed it to his lower back, mirroring the spot that corresponded to mine. There, with each of his breaths, a faint outline of a feral totem emerged. “I want to tattoo your image. I want to carve you into my bones forever.”

The silver collar felt tighter than usual tonight, the tag brushing the fresh hickey Mark had left on her neck earlier. Mark set the car keys on the shelf and turned, his eyes already dark with something new. “Before we go further, there’s something I’ve been thinking about upstairs,” he said quietly, voice low and steady. “A friend of mine has this place downtown. Temporary tattoo studio, like a flash session. They do those symbolic ones that last a few days. I booked it for tonight—right after you got home from the gym. It’s on your lower back, right where you hide everything. ‘Daddy’s Property.’ Big, bold letters, but they’re going to look like a real tattoo for now.”

But now I became hesitant even though I was excited in the forest. Seeing my hesitation, Evelyn sucked on my waist. "Step up; Alpha is waiting for you." Done, she pulled up her sleeve to reveal a tattoo. "My tattoo is here." This is the first time I've seen it at such a close distance. It's a very delicate tattoo. The symbol of the Black Moon, surrounded by a black moon, in the center is an image of a mighty black wolf sitting with its back to the moon. It's haughtily, as soon as I saw it, I loved it.

I inwardly murmured to myself. Ethan had a tattoo on his back. Right across his shoulders were medium- sized horizontal wings. They looked a little Goth and almost Greco-Roman in their black inked starkness. I loved the quote underneath the wings. No more yielding but a dream. I saw it in the shower when he turned to get the soap.

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.