Mechamaru Without Bandages Novels & Stories

The sound is quiet, but it slices through the stillness of the room. Mara stills. I turn my head slightly, wincing at the movement, just in time to see him. Marcus. He stands in the doorway, framed by shadow, his broad shoulders tense beneath freshly bandaged armour. White cloth wraps around his chest and arm, already stained faintly with red. He looks… worn. Not just physically, there’s something heavier in his expression. For a moment, no one speaks. Mara doesn’t move and Marcus doesn’t step forward. He just stands there, his gaze fixed, not on me but on her.

Martin approaches and she nods, not opening her eyes. He gently unwrapped the bandages on her shoulder. It was almost totally healed now, there was still some bruising, and pink tender looking flesh, but other than that, it looked almost back to normal, and now, my mate mark was clearly visible. Siril, the bastard, was very smug and proud of it.

” He added. “Tsk, very well. Megumi.” Megumi comes out from his bracelet. He puts off his jacket, white shirt, and jeans and throws them to Megumi. Now he just wears his boxer with "Property of Megumi" on it. “I’ll go!” He cracks his hand and smirks. ”Buriko, you don’t mind, do you?” He added. Buriko just nods. The others seem to hold their urge to laugh at his silly boxer. “Please use the entrance. Just like your typical wrestling match, right?” Kiki said.

Maybe someone just texted. "Good luck!" I just shouted but I didn't call her babe. It's silly that we might even gossip about it and think Marcus is here. My doubts haven't disappeared yet, it hasn't been resolved yet because Draco isn't here yet. Reed started to move and was facing his sparring partner who was Japanese. They are wearing protective armor but I know that it still won't work if the samurai is hit hard. Samurai have freaking sharp blades and that's not a bluff.

“You and me for ever.” He gave a small smile and kept gently patting her head, watching her sleep like nothing had ever gone wrong. ….……… The next morning, cameras flashed everywhere as Mon walked up to the stage. His left hand was wrapped in thick white bandages, and he wore a neck brace. There were visible bruises along his jawline, and a strip of plaster marked his forehead. He looked every bit the image of a man in pain. Reporters murmured softly, ready for him to start..

All in all, he had recovered quite a bit. This image, however, got severely damaged when he removed the shirt completely. Big parts of his arms were covered in bandages, and one side of his waist even sported three black stitch marks. Yet, miraculously, there was no wound in sight. The stitches in his side seemed completely unnecessary, like they were just an accessory.

Not when he appears in my line of sight shirtless, wearing different shorts, hair dripping wet. Cleaned of all dirt, I can perfectly see the figures covering his defined body. One looks like a tribal design extending over his shoulder and chest; the other, chains spiraling down his arm. Don grabs a roll of tape and tears three pieces with his teeth, placing them on the mirror. Then he separates a pack of clean splints. I see his bandages—the ones he used in the fight—soaked in scarlet liquid, stuffed into a plastic bag and thrown into the trash.

FORBIDDEN THINGS HAVE A SECRET CHARM. DANTE The fight felt good. No, better than good. It felt right. Natural. Like slipping into a second skin that fits perfectly. I'm standing in the small room they use as a makeshift locker area, wrapping my knuckles with fresh bandages. My hands are already starting to bruise—the guy I fought had a thick skull, took more hits than I expected before he went down. But he did go down. They always do.

His golden eyes watched us, unamused. The man with the buzz cut and his face marked with a scar on his lip. His clothes were similar to the others, but his chest armor stood out more. His boots were heavy, seeming like they'd make a soft thud with each step. He looked nothing short of menacing, especially with his piercings. I looked even closer and saw a tattoo around his neck. He looked like he'd kill with no remorse. Who's to say he hadn't done that already?

It helps me forget, forget the pain, and relax my sore and tense muscles. I washed my hair and body carefully due to my injuries, and then I finished. I wrapped a white fluffy towel around myself loosely. I then put on my underwear and bandaged my injuries, being extra careful on my ribs, back, knee, and shoulder. Since my knee and shoulder are dislocated and my ribs are broken. My back is whipped, so it's most probably open. I then put on some comfy clothes and covered my bruises that were visible with foundation.