Itachi Shirtless Novels & Stories

I don't want to die yet] "I dare, someone to kill you, and they will see worse than death in my hands" Wow, he is cruel yet strong. I don't mind it as long as someone won't torture me. He started looking at me from top to bottom. [W--what?] "Let's go to the Obito store. Your clothes should be ready. How long are you going to wear my clothes" [It's not like I like wearing your clothes. Look at them...they are so baggy like I am being carried in something big] "Then stop wearing it," he said and moved closer.

I felt someone's arms wrapping around my waist and removing the ladle off my hand. "You'll get burned, I will cook instead." Uno kissed my forehead and pushed me to the side gently. I just sat on one of the seats and watched his back muscles flexing as he cooked. He was topless, the only thing that he is wearing is probably his underwear and black sweatpants. I furrowed my brows. "Uno, why are you not wearing a shirt?" I asked. "Ah! I just thought that the conditioner on my shirt will also make you puke so I didn't bother." He laughed and didn't bother to glance at me.

The suit's fabric embraced his form with precision, sculpting his frame in a way that conveyed strength and elegance in equal measure. The darkness of his attire was punctuated by a bold statement: a deep red shirt that accentuated his confidence. The top buttons of the shirt remained undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his tattooed chest. The inked patterns danced across his skin, a testament to a hidden side of him that few were privy to witness. The intricate designs told stories of his past, a tapestry of experiences woven into the very fabric of his being.

Her face concealed behind a white yashmak with a little trinket around her neck and the letter ‘J’ emblem on her right shoulder as she folded her arms under her copious chest. “It’s a pleasure to see not just two great Humanes but four of them; one of each is enough to fully annihilate a thousands ordinary beast beings. All at once. I’m honored.“ Hailed a bald dark skinned male with the letter ‘H’ tattooed on his lower chin looking more like a traditional lower Ichin tattoo. Dressed in a long, flowing white robe with long sleeves decorated with golden embroidery around his neck-line down to his chest and both the tips of his sleeves while holding a cap closer to his chest area.

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.

She couldn't see the man who kept turning away from her coming in after her unless he intended to do it fully clothed. "Okay, but you have to strip down to your undies. No tricks," she said, calling his bluff. His jacket hit the floor and it was her turn to gulp. He undid one button and then another until his shirt was on the floor too. Aria inhaled sharply. She knew he was completely ripped under his tailored suits, but damn if seeing it wasn't something else. Aria was not a stranger to shirtless men. She had sparred with her fair share of them. Bart didn't sparr without a shirt though, so this was all new to her.

Chapter 7 Raul’ s POV Far be it from me to deny Scarlett what she wants, so when she started panting, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me”, I had to comply. I am, after all, a gentleman. I unbuckle my jeans and start to slide them off as Scarlett, with one of her extended claws, makes my job easier and slices them off. It’s a good thing that she and I started keeping extra clothes at each other’s pack houses because of this very thing.

Some way. A soft knock at the door gets my attention. I wipe my eyes and walk over, wondering who it could be at this hour. My hand turns the knob. Jethro stands there, shirtless, wearing only dark pants that hang low on his hips. The sight steals my breath. His body is perfect; powerful muscles sculpted from years of Alpha strength, his neck tattoo winding down toward his chest, broad shoulders, and narrow waist. Bandages still wrap his shoulder, head, and neck, but they do little to hide how devastatingly handsome he is. Heat rises to my cheeks unbidden.

Inhaling a deep breath I calm myself trying to believe there was a rational reason for me to be mummified alive as the god remains quiet without attempting to explain. Cryptic, his expression remains as reaches my side and, his black attire unlike its usual crisp self, with the cloak once adorning his shoulders left by the chair he sat on and his long sleeves creased with the tunic over his torso fastened without care as it revealed the jade like skin of his collarbones before ruffling to the sides to part in a thin line of pale skin running down to his upper abdomen, giving a sense of extreme laziness. What happened I wonder, but my mind pulls up images of my struggling self in his hands, h

Brian who I never expected to still be in the room turned my way and a word was blurted out from his mouth "Gorgeous" I just shook my head and was about to enter the walk-in closet when I remembered that nothing was inside, I looked at Brian and noticed that he was no longer shirtless, a white shirt complimented the black pants he was wearing, and an expensive black belt in place with office black shoe. He looked like a handsome young man going for an interview, and no matter how his white office shirt covered his body it still couldn't hide the outline of his hot body, I shook the thoughts out of my head "Can you leave, please? I wanna change" I said.