Barely Tolerable Shirt Novels & Stories

I don't know who keeps bringing them in, but I took one look at the outfit and shook my head. I was not going to wear that. Whoever was giving me clothes either was smaller than me, which I highly doubted, or liked walking around half-naked. The shirt looked like it was the size of a small child’s shirt and thin white fabric. The skirt was kind of cute but not exactly practical for running. It was free-flowing and a light blue, it was also a tad too short.

“I hope so.” She seemed to remember she was supposed to be selling him something. “These shirts are pretty basic. The ones with the custom embroidery are over there. Are those more your style?” “Actually, I’m wanting something simple. And without sounding boring, I’m looking for white or black.” “Classic choices.” She eyed the breadth of his shoulders. The length of his arms and torso. Then pulled out four shirts. Two white, two black. “These are the same brand but the fabric weight is different. Try them on. The dressing rooms are back by the boots.”

she exclaimed, immediately sorting through the men's clothing. Keyara looked uncomfortable because she was chosen to wear a shirt made of smooth satin. The shirt seemed to fall perfectly on her skin and felt very soft. It's not that Keyara didn't like it, when she put it on, she could feel the coolness of the fabric on her skin, but she decided not to take the shirt because she saw the price tag that almost took her breath away. Ten thousand dollars for one shirt. Unbelievable! However, the two servants who chose the clothes seemed to force Keyara to wear the shirt and took her out of the room to show Grey.

He raised his hand to pull the collar of her shirt upwards, forcibly changing the shape of her shirt into a round collar. “Bring up your collar. Do you want to let the group of boys in your class get an eyeful of you?” Nora lowered her eyes and saw how ugly it was. This shirt had an off-shoulder design, but after it was pulled up forcibly, the neckline became wrinkled, and it looked as if she was wearing a piece of rag. She raised her hands and pulled her collar down angrily. “What are you doing? This shirt is meant to be worn like this!”

I sigh with relief and put the lamp back, facing my mate, who gives me a puzzled look. “No, I was going to hit whoever I didn’t know with it.” I correct, getting a chuckle from him that sends my heart fluttering. “I thought you would like to know that food is ready, and I brought you a shirt since yours looked too small when I was cleaning your clothes.” I smile at Tate’s considerate thought, thanking him while I take the offered shirt. Slipping out of the tight long-sleeved shirt, I pull on the soft, cotton, black long-sleeved V-neck shirt that smells faintly like him. Now feeling much more comfortable, I stretch, loving the fact I can move freely once again.

Although I did get in a lot of trouble before since it wasn’t easy for me to wake up to the alarm set for me in the beginning, but besides that, I think I’m doing great so far. I took a quick shower and wore my usual attire—just a plain white oversized shirt that fell until my mid-thighs. As if the collar wasn’t enough, human slaves are also usually dressed as basic as possible, the bare minimum being a shirt and underwear. Luckily for me, even for a human, I was pretty petite, so the shirt given to me covered me up nicely.

"But let me remind you that this shirt is a limited-edited piece from a top-class designer, and you can't buy it even if you have the money! Be careful when hugging it to sleep—don't crumple it, drool on it, or make disgusting expressions while lying on it. I'm afraid it'll leave me traumatized when wearing the shirt." Feelings of gratitude in her heart immediately dissipated.

With a deep breath, I picked out a simple outfit, a loose-fitting shirt and a pair of comfortable jeans. The shirt was made of soft, cool cotton, the kind that felt like a gentle caress against my skin. It was a pale blue color, the same hue as the sky on a clear summer day. The fabric flowed around me like a gentle breeze, as if wrapping me in a comforting embrace. The sleeves were long, covering my arms and offering a sense of protection. The neckline was high, too, almost up to my chin, shielding me from prying eyes.

I snorted at the thought, the man had an ego the size of Manhattan. My closet only had one pencil skirt, but luckily I was only wearing it for roughly an hour yesterday and I could re-wear it today. I’m going to have to do some shopping if this job ends up working out – I’ll decide by the end of the day depending on how it goes. For a shirt, it’s supposed to be a plain color and have no print on it, so I went for a simple navy blue button-down that was a breathable fabric that I can tuck into the skirt and not have it show any lines.

The inevitable happened—and it happened all over his pristine white designer shirt. Thane’s roar of disgust could’ve shaken the walls. "OH, COME ON!" Thane jumped back, holding his arms out like he'd been contaminated with radioactive waste. “Are you kidding me right now?! On me? Out of every square inch of this apartment—you pick me? This is Armani! Do you know how much this shirt costs?" "Sorry," I gasped between dry heaves, though secretly, a small part of me felt vindicated.