Post Malone Oblivion Tattoo Novels & Stories

Malachi stands with me still straddling him as I run my hand through his brown hair. I let him put me down and stare at his body, taking my attention to the tattoo in the middle of his stomach that shows his birth year. I lead him to the bed, and he lays back, propping himself up with his elbows to keep his gaze on me. I spread his legs so I can fit my body between them and kneel, while my finger traces the tattoo that says 1994 on his torso. He shivers at my touch and he's already hard as a rock. I trail soft kisses along that same tattoo, thanking the Moon Goddess for creating such an exceptional creature. I unbuckle his pants and start to pull them down slowly while his heated gaze

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."

That way no one would have to sleep in a wet spot. Malachi slowly unzipped my dress, it fell to the floor and I stood in my spanks, undies and a strapless bra. As I removed my spanks, I watched him undress. He removed his clothes quickly while trying to watch me undress. His creamy skin glowed in the dimly lit room. His skin flowed effortlessly over his well toned body. He had a hairless chest yet hair on his sculpted legs. Either he shaves his chest or none grows. He had a tattoo of a koi fish on the left side of his torso and a skull on his back. He also had a few random tribunal tattoos. There was a scar on his shoulder that looked like he had been in a bad accident.

I needed to feel him fill me. I looked down at his V-line. The old tattoo was still there. My name. Moana. In italics, just like the little flower. He had gotten it years ago, before everything fell apart, when we were young and stupid and burning. He had marked himself with my name and he had never removed it. It was still there, still dark, still permanent. "You still have it," I said.

Mark was slightly taller than I and was a hundred and ninety pounds of rock solid muscle, his shoulders were wide and his waist narrow, he was not muscle bound, but there was not a damn thing on him that was not exactly where it should be including a set of abs that would make a twenty year old jealous. Mark, like me in a sleeveless shirt caught a bit of attention. Both of his arms shoulder to elbow were covered in enormous tattoo's, on the right was Pan the Celtic devil; horns, hooves and red eyes glaring, on the left was an incredibly detailed image of the Pale rider of revelations fame. With his build, the tats and his five o clock shadow Mark was flaunting the "Bad Boy" look and carried

"You sure?” “Dead sure. One of them had a tattoo, same symbol that was on Massimo’s old private ring. The raven skull.” Her throat tightened. "He’s here amd alive,” she whispered. “He’s working from the shadows.” Matteo nodded. “And he’s building something.” Talana stood still for a long moment, staring into the fire burning low in the hearth. “Then so will I.”

"Which warehouse? There are hundreds of warehouses at the dock!" "The one with this symbol on it! That–that's our stronghold. He's probably there..." One of them rolled up his sleeve and showed me his tattoo. Each gang had a unique pattern for marking territory and their goods. It was unlikely for two different gangs to have identical tattoos. "Thanks. Now you two go get some rest." I punched the back of their heads, and they immediately passed out from the force. I took out the last oblivion potion I had and waved it under their noses. Ordinary people would fall asleep peacefully until the next day and forget what had happened the night before.

Noah said. Daniel enlarged the image. Beneath the man’s sleeve was a faded tattoo. Five narrow vertical lines crossed by a single horizontal slash. Noah stared at it. His heartbeat quickened. A memory surfaced without warning. Five young men sitting around a fire after training. One of them rolled up his sleeve and laughed. “Five of us. One mark. So none of us ever forget.” The memory vanished almost as quickly as it came. Noah closed his eyes. “I’ve seen that tattoo.”

The very same mark that graced Jessica’s neck before she had it covered with several tattoos, even then the mark shone through in the deepest shade of black possible. The only difference was Scarlett’s was surrounded by those pulsating black veins. It enraged him that another man dared to mark her, to hurt her. His eyes flashed in anger, he had never hated anyone as much as he hated Zidane Malone and he would make sure he died a fucking painful death.

"Yeah, have it?" Skoteinó chuckled and removed his white smiley mask that revealed the tattoos on his face. The tattoo that attracts Raverine the most is the official insignia of Die Dark — a smiling skull with a bloody fang. The tattoos were all over his dark-toned face. He also had piercings on his nose and lip — a typical look of an outlaw.