Novel & Cerita Bakugou Shirtless

The door was slightly ajar, and soft sounds of movement and heavy breathing drifted out. I stopped right at the edge of the doorframe, pressing my back against the wall, and peeked in through the gap. Oh. My. God. He was there. Shirtless. Gone were the suits, the crisp shirts, the buttons, the ties. He was wearing only dark grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, no shirt, no shoes, nothing else. His back was to me, hands gripping the pull-up bar high above him, and he was moving—smoothly.

I bite the inside of my cheek as I catch sight of Warren standing there, shirtless and glistening with sweat, looking like he just stepped out of a magazine cover. His tan abs are practically gleaming in the dim light, and I notice how his baggy cargo jeans with straps that wrap around his shoulders, cling to his hips in all the right places, emphasizing his perfect V-line. His black hair is styled to perfection, but a stray strand falls across his forehead, making him look even more disheveled and irresistible.

It spilled on his face, and it painted him in silver and shadow. He was shirtless, barefoot, and only wore black loungewear pants that sat on his hips. His hair was messy, and his jaw was tight, and his burning eyes stared at a question that was too difficult for him to voice. “You were calling.’ His tone was quiet and it almost sounded like the words were ripped out of him.

I’m not kidding. Then I zoomed in on another picture and paused. His shirt looked… wrong? Like, off. I looked up and— My brain short-circuited. He was shirtless. Standing there in front of everyone, abs glistening like they’d been painted on, tattoos crawling across his chest and arm — a massive bird spreading its wings like it could fly off his skin. I forgot to breathe. And then people started screaming. Phones came up, girls pushed forward, and I was right there with them.

Alex hiss and Ash lay down and keep laughing his ass off to his mate. "Baby really now it's really hurt like hell" "Stop being drama Queen" Ash tease which make Alex pout even more. "You're wearing too many clothes for me. Off. Now." Ash demanded from nowhere which make Alex started. But then Alex chuckled getting up from the bed undressing slowly. Teasing Ash as he unbuttoned his silk shirt. Ash has seen Alex shirtless before and he almost came in his pants at the sight of his Alphas abs. Like how the fuck is ripped like that? Alex threw his shirt on the floor, then moved to his skinny jeans and took them off with one swift movement. Alex stood there in all his glory.

an oversized shirt "Sorry, but I don't wear boxers. The bathroom is over there; I will grab some more beer." So as I am getting changed, I fail to close the door; it is only me and him who will see. I feel him watching me as I wiggle my ass out of my jeans and slip my shirt down my shoulders. I stand there for a second and stretch my body, toning every muscle of my perfect physique...then I hear him... "Fuck." I softly chuckle to myself and pull his shirt over my head... ...Back in the lounge... "My god, you are gorgeous."

His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, exposing the silver necklace that rested on his bare chest. He was... Different.

"I don't mean that at all. Wait, when did you even hear me say such? Are you kind of… insane? Maybe an imbecile?" Shit, what did I say?! He grunted, rolled his fingers into a fist. "Dude." I wiggled an eyebrow, literally getting so confused. "Do we know you? Why would you just boom from nowhere, and decide to… bully us. Do you need medical attention or what?" Good Lord, I didn't have two lives for shit' sake. What was I doing?! "That's it!" He cried amid gritted teeth, grabbed the neckline of his shirt, ripping the silky cloth off with so much force. Now, he was shirtless. He had a potbelly, and there was a thicker tattoo on his chest.

I shook my head at my own reflection. I was bold but I wasn’t that bold. “Fuck it.” I tugged the sash loose and let the fabric fall open anyway. **** He was on the couch when I stepped out, and my mouth very fell open. Literally. He was shirtless. Like, completely, entirely shirtless — bare from the waist up, and I had never in my life been this close to a shirtless man who looked like that. Like him. The breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his chest, and the narrow taper of his waist had me swallowing.

Hе was bare-chested, nаkеd except fоr thе аlmоѕt paper thіn elastic shorts. Worst оf аll, аѕ wаѕ the fashion, his оvеr-ѕіzеd c**k hаd іtѕ оwn роuсh. It wаѕ аddеd undеrnеаth wіth stiff wіrе to fоrсе hіѕ bulge even mоrе obscenely оutwаrd.