Problem Solved Bloody T-shirt Novels & Stories

Then I mumbled, “Not a Star Wars t-shirt. More like a Hobbit t-shirt.” “Are you wearing a Hobbit t-shirt?” he wondered in a sultry tone. I took a deep breath, then turned on my camera. “See? Nothing special.” I wasn’t expecting it, but his sharp intake of breath was surprisingly gratifying. “Mmm, sexy. I also like the t-shirt.” I looked down at my t-shirt, noting it was white, stuck to me, and had the store’s logo on it. “‘The Dragon’s Lair’” he read.

"I wanted to see how the other side lived." "As great as this conversation is." I huffed as a wave of pain rushed through me. "Could we maybe focus on the problem at hand." "Shit!" TJ hissed, looking apologetic. "Right, what the hell happened to you anyway?" "I decided to get into a fight with the whip." I snapped as TJ began to pull at my tattered shirt. "CAREFUL!" "Sorry," TJ said, quickly letting go of the fabric. What was left of my shirt was already sticking to my wounds where blood had dried up, causing it to almost become a second skin. The removal process was definitely going to be painful.

I dragged myself forward with the last of my strength and explained as best as I could, “I’m Martin’s wife!” With trembling hands, I reached out and showed him my bloodstained ring. “This is the token. Only the boss’s wife would have it.” He squinted at the ring. Finally recognizing it, he quickly pulled out his phone and called Martin. “Boss, I found your wife in the freezer. She’s covered in blood. Should I take her to the emergency room?” On the other end, Martin didn’t even hesitate to say, “Nonsense! My wife is in the blood-drawing room. Who dares impersonate her? Drag that imposter out and throw her away!”

Alpha Harlan didn’t say a word to me. He didn’t even acknowledge I was there. He just peeled off his bloody shirt right in front of me, tossing it aside. The fabric landed on the floor with a soft thud, already half-dry and crusted with dark red blood. His skin was smeared with it—streaks across his arms, his chest, even up his neck. It looked gruesome, like he’d been in a savage fight. Or like he’d turned Naomi into a victim of one. My stomach flipped again, a mix of fear and unwanted curiosity bubbling up.

"Clean off your body with sand. Call us back once you are dressed." "My shirt?" I asked as I held up the ensanguined shirt. For some reason, I felt the desert camouflage pattern was ruined. "He can go shirtless," Priya suggested quickly. Mona and Rachel nodded. 'Showered in pig's blood'...I didn't recall seeing that on a Cosmo sex quiz. I shuddered to think whose sexual survey would...oh, right, it was on the Satan's Sluts' To-do List.

"And I need a clean bandage to tie the fresh moss down. Your tunic is completely ruined. There is no clean cloth left on it." Kaelen closed his eyes, his jaw tight. "Then we use the moss without the binding. It is fine." "No, it will fall out if you move," I insisted. I looked down at my own body. The thin, dirty linen shirt I was wearing was practically falling apart. It was stained with dirt from the silver mines and dried blood from my torn shoulder stitches, but the bottom hem was still relatively clean. Without thinking, I reached down and grabbed the bottom edge of my shirt. I gritted my teeth against the sharp, pulling pain in my bad shoulder, and I pulled the shirt over my head.

A completely new life without us. I stirred harder. The milk spilled over the edge and soaked the cuff of my light blue shirt. The brown stain spread fast. I slammed the glass down on the counter. I pulled a clean dish towel off the oven handle and scrubbed the spot. The brown color just sank deeper into the fabric. I unbuttoned the shirt and pulled it off. I stood there in my thin white singlet. I dropped the shirt into the stainless steel sink and turned the cold water on all the way. I scrubbed the fabric rough under the tap.

"I'll just hang out here until you come and get me. Then we can plan our getaway." "Okay. Just relax. If you need anything, Pedro and Cody are just outside. They're really good trainers so they'll take care of you." I nod again and smile as he kisses me on the forehead. As soon as the door is shut behind me, I peel off my bloody shirt, careful not to smear any blood on my face. The clean jersey is white, which I hate, and about three sizes too big. But it'll be less conspicuous than wearing one covered in bodily fluids so I can't complain.

she exclaimed as she hurried over to the bed with the glue containers clutched in her tiny hands. I laid the t-shirt flat on the bed as straight as I could get it. “Okay! What colors do you want to write in it?” “Can we we do a mix of red and pink? That way no one will think he belongs with anyone else?” she asked. “Yep. And maybe we can do a heart too,” I answered as I held out my hands for the pink and red containers. Ten minutes later the t-shirt was done and was almost dry. Becky beamed at me. “It’s beautiful! Do you think Daddy Rip will wear it?”

Slowly he took off his shirt which was starting to spot a little red stain right at the shoulder. Immediately the shirt went off, my face must have paled. Because it wasn't him that attacked me last night. His own gunshot wound was from the time I shot him mistakenly. It wasn't a new wound. Fuck! It was only bleeding because my foot had applied pressure on what was on its way to healing. “I'll just get this checked out, boss, then we can continue later. It might get really ugly and make my arm defective in the near future if I don't treat it now”