Zoro T Shirt Novels & Stories

They burst through the door at the top of the stairs with a fierce battle cry, clad in heavy armor, and wielding massive battle axes, silver swords, spears, and some warriors even completely transformed into their wolf form, but Zora resisted them, and he got back on his feet. Zora, a gigantic figure towering over the trooping warriors. He roared out loud to assert his dominance and instill fear into his surging opponents. He scrambled to grab an axe from Casandra’s stack of weapons, and with ease, he moved through the warriors with precision, skill, and ridiculous speed, taking down each warrior with deadly accuracy.

Wolf backed off gently, not insisting. But Zoe shook her head while wiping her tears and sniffling with the shirt Wolf gave her. She wanted to convey that her crying had nothing to do with his command. But then Zoe frowned, distancing herself from the stained cloth to get a better look. She had just smelled Wolf's scent on the shirt. It took Zoe a few seconds to realize the true nature of the black-colored fabric—it was a t-shirt. Zoe turned and was certainly shocked to see Wolf's row of uncovered tattoos. A view that was certainly comforting. Not just because of the attractive body shape, but because Zoe didn't expect Wolf to sacrifice his shirt to wipe away tears and snot.

Thorne snapped. Zora yelped and Kairos sprung from where he was pinning her down. She rolled off the backside of Kairos’s bed and stood up, shoving her stray strap back up her arm. Her sweatpants were hung low on her waist, as if someone was in the process of taking them off. She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced down at the floor. “What do you want, Blythwitch?” Kairos snapped, all of his old self showing. “What are you doing with her!?” Thorne hissed. He watched as Zora scrambled around the bed to pick up her discarded hoodie and cover herself. Kairos just stood there, bare-chested, belt un-done and the Moonraiser fire in his eyes.

Tristan asked him, laughing, because Jack is pranking everyone all day long. “What’s wrong with my t-shirts?” Jack asks in disbelief while Tristan looks inside and starts to laugh. There are three not one t-shirts. One for Tristan says “Always their hero” and there is a arrow pointing to the left and one to the right. On Zara’s “ Always his little girl” and on Zoey’s says “This hero’s kryptonite”. “Do you like it?” Jack asks clapping his palms . “I adore it!” Tristan tells him. “Thank you, man.”

CHAPTER 16 AS WHEN Yvrozz went out of their room, her jaw almost dropped at how handsome he is. He was also wearing a black t-shirt and with a white trouser just like her. Then Zenah could remember that the clothes that she was wearing wasn't her but it's Yvrozz. Meaning, she was wearing Yvrozz t-shirt and trouser. "Let's go?"Yvrozz said while looking at her before he grabbed his phone which was placed on the table and put it on his pocket.

Josh didn't look too happy, he was pacing back and forth with one hand behind his head. Marlon was sitting with his head down, his usual flat expression like he didn't care, and his shirt. Hazel was taken aback when she saw he was wearing the white T-shirt Lee had bought for her from Korea. He hadn't come home since yesterday. Mr. Edgerton saw them looking in through the window and he gestured his hand for them to move along. The first bell rang. Marlon turned and they exchanged a look. He was in deep trouble and there was nothing she could do to help him.

A muffled voice nagged at me, but my eyes felt too heavy to open, and I didn't want them to burn from the bright lights. Another downpour of cold water assaulted me, and this time, I cried out in shock. My eyes darted open, spotting the culprit. Zane stood before me, no longer in his suit but in a black shirt that hugged his toned body nicely. His tattoed arms were on full display as he crossed them over his chest, showing off his muscle, his dark jeans tight around his muscular thighs.

I sighed but my mother’s face told me, no matter what I said, I was not going to win, so I decided to grab the bracelet, a shawl from the hook by the door, and walked out. **** Most werewolves—women werewolves—who in Astoria wore gowns, would find it a deterrent to climb up piles but I have no shame. We have acres of land to ourselves. All ladies. So I hiked my skirt up to my thigh and began my climb up.

“But I’ll get past it. Somehow.” Zoe giggled. “Don’t be so sure about that, handsome. I think that ‘rough and ready’ can sell stuff. Jeans? Whiskey? Cowboy hats? Motorcycles? Badass bad boys with hero scars are hot as hell, trust me.” “Yeah, maybe.” Scars shifted on his stomach, winced. “Ouch.” “You in pain?” She was on her feet in a flash, ready to get someone to push some more drugs into the IV. “You need some help?”

He texted me earlier and informed me he’d meet me at the club. I spot my lady the moment I walk into the club. Tonight Zoe’s wearing a short, white servant girl toga dress with gold gladiator sandals. Her legs look incredibly long, and her curvy body tempting from underneath the sheer veil of the dress. I can see the shadow of her nipples and the curves of her breasts underneath her dress. She’s talking quietly to Sahara’s manager and a few of the waitresses. She has yet to notice me, which gives me time to drink in every part of her soft hair, glowing skin, and ocean-colored eyes.