Jalen Green Leg Tattoo Novels & Stories

I'm not proud of it, and I don't want to do it again. "You're the best person I know," I tell him sincerely when he turns his head toward me. "Show me your tattoo." With a quiet chuckle, he turns and shows me his shoulder blade, which is tattooed with a target. I touch it and trace it with my fingers, smiling as I notice Jaden's skin break out in goosebumps. "Why a target?" "I wanted to cover it up." "Then why not a tiger, a dragon, or whatever else is trendy right now?"

My little escape for the night to be with my number one rebel partner, Ben. I padded across the room toward my dresser, opening a jar of lotion. The subtle scent of vanilla filled the air as I trailed my fingers over my arms, rubbing the cream in absentmindedly. My gaze landed on the small mirror propped on the corner of the dresser, catching a glimpse of the intricate tattoo curling along my collarbone. The mark. My mark. With a soft smile, I turned to face the mirror more fully, letting the towel slip just enough to reveal the dark, swirling design etched into my skin. I traced the lines with my fingertip, marveling at how something so permanent could appear so delicate.

They were so welcoming and fun to talk to, although there was this one I was particularly interested in He was really hot if I do say so myself, he's baby-blue eyes were in contrast with his dark hair which looked like he had been running his hand through it the whole night. He was wearing a plain black shirt with a denim jacket that read 'be whatever you want' on the left shoulder, torn black jeans and moonlight sneaks. You could see his muscles underneath his shirt and a tattoo on his wrist that looked like a skull with thorns coming out of its eyes and beneath it writing that looked scribbled. I couldn't read it but it looked really cool...maybe it's because it was on him after all. "Hey!

Closing my fingers into a fist, I tap twice. —Well, but it's Princess Laury.— Jeremiah is standing in the open doorway, suitless, replaced by low-slung black sweatpants. There's no shirt in sight. And I should know, as hard as I am to look anywhere but at his chest. That tattoo I finally see on his chest. I'd only seen the top half, but I could never quite tell the jagged lines, the different lengths and angles. Now I see it's three puzzle pieces, fitting together perfectly. On the left is his name, on the right is Ezequiel's. The middle piece doesn't have a name, but its meaning is crystal clear.

The last person I ever wanted to see again. Alpha Theo. He sat on a wide armchair like it belonged to him and him alone, his long legs spread slightly apart, his bare chest on full display. A thick black tattoo coiled across his chest and down his ribs, strange and tribal like it was meant to mark something ancient. His skin was golden and smooth, muscles hard and flexed beneath every breath. His left eye was covered with a dark mask, and the right—God, the right—was a bright gem-like green that cut straight into me.

“Have you finally thought about where you want to put it?” “Yeah, I was thinking about the back of my leg, the calf area,” Lucas said as he raised his pants and pointed to the spot. “What do you think?” “We can do that. It’s not a big piece and since you don’t have any tattoos here, it gives it enough room.” He said and handed him a tablet to show the image. “So, how does this look? I can do any quick changes if you want or we can just get this printed out.”

“Leni, you sure you want a tattoo that size on your forearm? It’s pretty big.” “I’m sorry, you’re questioning the size of ANYONE’S tattoos?” I growl. “Okay, okay!” He holds his hands up in surrender. “You’re in excellent hands. Cason, mindlink me when you get a minute.” “Sure thing, Alpha. I’ll look at my schedule.” Cason says, but he doesn’t look up. He is already drawing on my arm. His face is full of concentration. Three hours later, I admire the stunning tattoo. Justice is already healing it. It looks like when a dragon sheds its scales.

Killian rolled his eyes before lifting up his t-shirt. Right at the top of the half of his ‘v’ on the right left side, he got the name ‘Nymph’ tattooed in cursive, with the ‘y’ looping to make a heart. The name was tattooed in a dark blue colour. Next to the name is a paw. He’d gotten the tattoo just over a month ago, against Calypso’s orders, even though she was there when he got it. “What is its significance, though I know it’s got to do with Cally?” Jordan asked.

I half-heartedly acknowledge the older man who's been my brooding seatmate ever since we boarded the plane. Shifting my sitting position to put a little distance between us I stare at him through the corner of my eyes, for something about the older man puts me on edge. He has wrinkly ivory skin with neutral undertones and a slightly crooked nose, his eyes are a startling shade of forest green and his lips are a little wide in shape. He’s wearing a large black coat and when he raises his left hand to run it through his hair an eye-catching tattoo appears, it’s a dragon tattoo coiled around his wrist.

They certainly deserved it after the nightmares they had been through. Macario and I stood up and started from Jackson down the line. I asked them where they wanted it because it would essentially become a tattoo. They needed to be sure they were okay with the placement. Jackson and Lilli wanted it over their hearts. Dent and Pati wanted it on their inner wrists. The girls both wanted it on the left shoulder blades. Macario grabbed my hand and had me focus on the power that I could feel coming from him. I gathered it up and pushed it out towards them. Each of their sigils glowed with a brilliant white light before turning into black tattoos. It worked. It fucking worked.