Killmonger Shirtless 소설 & 이야기

She stood back, examining the stained shirt and too-0small leggings I donned, "What the hell are you wearing?" "Mom and I keep clothes to shift from, so we don't ruin our favourites." "Genius! I always hated stripping before supervised runs," she said, her eyes darting over to Jonas, towering several feet away. As wolves we were comfortable in nudity, a side effect of shifting in and out of human form. The chill never wore off, however, and while modestly was long out the proverbial window, I still found myself looking for cover in public shifting sessions.

No one was supposed to know. Tonight, he was wearing his favourite shirt, the one that matched the colour of his eyes, grey. It was a little tight around his arms, making his biceps seem bigger. He always left the top three buttons of this shirt loose, showing off his toned chest and silver long chain which he never ever took off. He wore this shirt with black skinny jeans, too , showing off his strong calves.

Then—because of course—Logan reached up and peeled his shirt off, to a mix of howls and wolf-whistles from the crowd. Not to be outdone, Derek tugged his own shirt over his head and tossed it to the side. I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly strained something. “Really?” I muttered to no one. “Is it even a werewolf gathering if the men aren’t shirtless and emotionally repressed?” A soft voice at my side replied, “He looks really strong.” I turned. Aiden had slipped up beside me, his face alight with curiosity and awe. “He’s been working out,” I said dryly, though I could feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. “Where’d you come from?”

It almost pissed me off more that he didn’t try to talk to me. The first pair of shorts I grabbed were the skimpiest ones I owned. That wasn’t done on purpose. I think it will work out in my favor. Maybe if I can make some of the guys look, that will piss Maddox off. My T-shirt had racoons on it and said, “Stay Trashy”. Honestly, one of my favorites.

I chuckled at my own joke. He quickly opened the door and pulled me in. "Well, now that you're here, no need for masturbation anymore." I pushed the shopping bag into his chest. "I got you clothes. Now put them on before I report you for sexual harassment, chipmunk fucker." He smirked and grabbed the bag. "Spicy Gi is back. I like it." He quickly pulled out the shorts and slid them up his legs. Then he pulled out the t-shirt and held it away from him to look at it. "You got me a shirt that says, 'I don't need therapy. I just need to get F#ed in public by thirteen werewolves?'"

Zaliver began to remove his shirt, pulling it over his head, and threw it on the ground. “What are you doing?” I gasped, watching as he unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his pants, pulling his zipper down. I looked away but looked back into his electric blue eyes. “Unlike werewolves, my clothes don’t shift back with me. I would be completely naked. Lucky you, huh.” He stopped moving and smiled charmingly at me.

Ten minutes to catch my breath and remember how to fight. "You need to strip down." Mara appeared beside me. She wasn't exactly friendly, but she wasn't hostile either. "Shifting will destroy your clothes anyway. Might as well save them." Right, because shifting in front of hundreds of strange wolves wasn't humiliating at all. I pulled off my jacket with trembling fingers. Then my shirt. Left me in just a sports bra and the shorts I'd worn under my jeans. The morning air raised goosebumps on my exposed skin. My scars were visible in the morning light—the ones from training accidents, the ones from years of being the pack punching bag. They told a story I no longer wanted to hide.

Grant. Wearing nothing but compression shorts and a cocky-ass grin. Shirtless. Chest gleaming with sweat. Arms flexed. Hair damp and messy. He looked like a fucking ad. Like someone dropped a Calvin Klein model in the middle of our locker room. “What the hell do you want?” Malik snapped, stepping in front of me. “I came to say hi,” Mason said casually. “Didn’t get to catch up after the game.” “We’re not in the mood,” Liam growled.

I'll have to ask later about it. We got out and dried off. I brought with me a brown sweat shirt and blue jeans to wear. The shirt was overshized and actually a lot cooler than most thought it'd be. I put them on along with a matching pair of bra and panties. I forgot to grab some shoes, so I'd have to go barefoot. Which was actually common with most wolves because they're expensive and we tend to forget to take them off durring shift- so they get lost or broken easily. Bredon just put what he normally wore back on, gym shorts and a musle shirt. Cheap clothes because he was always ready to shift. He gave me a pair of socks and nike slides to wear and we walked out to his balcony where a porc

I replied, unscrewing the cap. “Why don’t you take off your shirt during training? Even during push-ups, you keep it on.” I nearly choked. The water stuck in my throat, and for a moment, I forgot how to swallow or spit it out. Most of the Alphas tossed their shirts aside during training. I was the only one still fully dressed, my shirt soaked through, sticky and uncomfortable. I hated it, but I had no choice. I met his gaze and calmly replied, “Since I was a kid, I’ve never been comfortable showing skin.”