Bakugo Skull Shirt Novels & Stories

My wedding to Don Lorenzo Corsica was always 'almost.' Five years engaged. Thirty-two weddings. Every single one crashed and burned. Then came number thirty-three. Halfway through, the chapel wall caved in. I landed in the ICU. Skull fracture. Major concussion. A dozen critical alerts. Two months stuck between life and death. Then I clawed my way back. On discharge day, I caught him talking to his right-hand guy. "Don, if you're really into that scholarship girl, just dump Ms. Mortoro," the guy said. "Corsicas can kill gossip. No need for staged accidents... She nearly died." Lorenzo went quiet. Then finally, "I owed her parents. They died for me. Marrying her was the only way to repa

This is what we do. We fight, we fuck, and we pretend it's fixed. He rips his shirt over his head, the sound of tearing fabric loud in the silence. And I freeze. My hands, which were reaching for him, stop. There. Coiling over his ribs, wrapping around his side, crawling up toward his heart, is an identical replica of Madilyn’s tattoo. "Charlie," he breathes, but it doesn't sound like his voice. His hands are rough, grabbing my hips. One hand slides, pressing hard against my stomach. No. The baby. My baby.

They laughed warmly. Abruptly, the door swung open. A troop of five men around their twenties came in view. They were in black formal suits. Only one attracted her sight. She sucked in her breath, her heart raced, her body trembled. She grasped the bed sheet in her hands. She felt tightness in my chest, her belly ache and dizziness. Last night's memory was standing in front of her in the beautiful shape of him, reality. He took her virginity. She could feel her body on fire. His white shirt was hugging his muscular body, not bulky but regnant. Three buttons of his shirt were unfastened, showing his tattoos on chest and toned body. There was a light wary smile on his face, showing him

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes,

The day after I got engaged to my boyfriend, his best friend locked me up. He smiled as he unbuttoned his shirt, stepping closer with each passing moment. "Mich, I'm your true destiny," he said, his voice low and menacing. As I struggled to resist, I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs. When I woke up, all my memories were gone. The handsome stranger standing before me noticed my confusion and kindly offered an explanation. "You're my fiancée, but you cheated on me," he said.

One night. One mistake. One baby. When Ariana storms into a restaurant and slaps the man she swears got her pregnant, she doesn’t expect his girlfriend to dump him on the spot or for him to lift his shirt and prove he’s not the man she spent that night with. He has no tattoo. But his identical twin does. Now, Ariana is carrying the wrong man’s baby… while falling for the one who isn’t the father. Tangled in betrayal, obsession, and a love she never expected, Ariana must decide: Will she fight for the man her heart wants—or be destroyed by the brother who refuses to let her go?

By the time I return home from a business trip, it is past midnight. However, my wife, Celeste Beaumont, isn't home. A man's shirt that isn't mine is lying on the couch. When I call her, she tells me that she's working late at the office. "Whose shirt is it on the couch?" I ask, cutting straight to the point. She playfully scolds, "Who else would it be? It's a gift for you, so hurry up and try it on." I skeptically put it on and immediately feel how tight and uncomfortable it is across my shoulders. "This is an L, babe. I've always worn XL." Celeste runs a clothing company. She's the one who handles all my clothes and even uses my body measurements for her menswear line. There's no way

Aditi and West hate each other. They bicker, they flirt, and are possibly a little in love. Blotching the hot new guy's shirt with chocolate-mixed spit is probably not the best idea of a revenge, but Aditi soon discovers that she doesn't regret it one bit. Because despite being a jerk, West too knows what it's like to be brown, Muslim and falling apart in an all-white high school, and when he gets entangled in Aditi's struggle to tackle a debilitating trauma and a really, really loud Bangladeshi wedding, the fledgeling love-hate relationship will leave her either healed or heartbroken. Or pretty dead, because an outbreak of crimes is gripping her quaint little town in fear, and the gor

“Take it off,” Nelvan said. Linda gripped her own shirt in fear, “Do I have to undress in front of you?” she asked. “Then do you want me to take it off?” said Nelvan angrily. ___ 2 hours before their wedding, a couple who were going to live happily ever after ran aground seconds before the wedding vows. The bride's betrayal made Nelvan hate women, so to vent his anger, Nelvan asked several maids to serve him. However, none could last more than a week to serve the abusive Nelvan. Until one day there was a maid who tried to be patient in order to continue her younger brother's schooling. So, can the Maid survive Nelvan's arrogant and violent attitude?

The phone had fallen and disassembled and the call, disconnected. "Who, who, who are you?" She became a heavy stutterer in an instant. The man who stood at the door to the kitchen walked forward and the light illuminated his features. He was lean and tall, very tall. Dressed in a white long sleeved shirt and dark suit pants, the few exposed parts of his body were ashen, lifeless and cold, like a bleak winter day. "Marry me." These were the two words that came from the deathly pale lips of his emotionless face... ********** Moving away from her overprotective parents, Geneva thought that she could finally lead a stress-free life. This was ruined when a ghost demands intimacy with her