Niall Horan Shirtless Novels & Stories

Aaron, now finally out of sight of everyone else in the party, quickly tore off the hot mask and rest of his costume, attempting cool down. Lauren stared at her son's muscular body as he stripped to nothing but his sleeveless undershirt and boxers. He really had turned into quite the good looking young man.

Then… “Selene.” “Hm?” “You can look.” “I wasn’t not looking.” Another laugh. “I’ve started changing clothes.” My eyes widened. “What?” Slowly—very slowly—I turned my head. Mistake. A very big mistake. Ronan had already removed his sleep shirt and was pulling on a clean black one. His broad shoulders flexed with the movement. Scars crossed his chest and abdomen, each one telling a story of battles fought long before I’d ever met him. Heat flooded my face so quickly I thought I might actually burst into flames.

“Isn’t it hot in here?” Niall frowned, confused, his attention dragged from the TV to her. Blair tugged at the knot of her coat, peeling it open inch by inch, and the brown fabric slid down her shoulders, exposing her dress. Niall’s eyes widened before he could stop himself. His gaze landed directly on her chest, and he froze. ‘Holy shit,’ he thought, his throat going dry. ‘Are those… mountains?’ The low-cut gown barely covered her, the heavy swell of her breasts pressing against the fabric like it was fighting to hold them in, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. The pale flesh was right there in front of him, soft and bouncing slightly with her movements.

But now. Now, he stood before the mirror in his dressing room, shirtless. His trousers were already on. They were perfectly tailored, of course. I watched him slip his arms into a crisp white shirt, the material gliding over muscle smoothly. God help me. I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "So you could barely walk straight two hours ago, and now you're cosplaying James Bond?" Killian glanced over his shoulder, his lips twitching. "You should be in bed."

But Nate was right there when I emerged, standing at the edge like he materialized from the shadows, shirtless and holding a cold beer that sweated in the night air. His ripped torso gleamed under the moonlight, every ridge of his abs defined, the tattoos on his left chest and upper arm twisting like dark vines over taut muscle. My heart slammed against my ribs, pulse roaring in my ears. I forced a sassy mask over the panic, crossing my arms under my chest to hide how my nipples perked at the sight of him. “What the hell are you doing here?” I shot, voice laced with attitude to cover the way my core clenched.

Someone the whole school adored, Northcrest star hockey player, most celebrated sports player. He was shirtless, a shirt thrown over his shoulder and a helmet held in one hand. My eyes slowly trailed his chest, abs, and bulging biceps. For a moment, I just stood there. Staring at him with intent and couldn't give a damn if I was called out as a pervert. Then a voice shouted, “Take a picture. It lasts longer.” The other boys laughed. Different words of mockery were thrown around and my cheeks became flushed with embarrassment. I tried to ignore them and focus my attention on Cole who was staring me down like I had ruined his mood by walking in—and maybe I did—but I didn't care.

"Do you have a thing for moping? Cause you've been doing it a lot lately." ‘Lately he says! We haven’t seen each other in days. The audacity!’ I thought, yet said nothing. I blinked. Twice. And then again. Was it hot in here? Or was it just… Well. Every single man in the room was shirtless and glistening in sweat. Except Ronan. He looked exactly as he always did — calculated, composed, not a single bead of sweat trailing down his temple, or anywhere for that matter. It was then I realised unlike everyone else, he was the only one not in training gi. He was in his suit pants. Which told me he might have returned not too long ago.

ARRETT Xavier standing there shirtless shouldn’t be a big deal because we’ve all seen him without a shirt a thousand times. But right now with the context of what we’re about to do, it feels different. Nobody moves for what feels like a full minute. Then Nash stands up and pulls off his own shirt like he’s ripping off a band-aid. “Fuck it. We’re doing this.” Cole is still standing by the pool table looking like he’s reconsidering every life choice that led to this moment. “How does this even work? Do we just all—”

I hope to see someone pass by, a friend or a classmate or some tourist—there isn't much chance of that. Footsteps sound behind me, and I turn. Niall jogs to me, wearing grey trousers and a plain white t-shirt, the fabric of which hangs to his body like second skin. Through it, one can see the pecs and abs lining his torso. "I'm disappointed, Ness. I thought you woke up this early for me," he mutters, narrowing his eyes. "You're special, but I wouldn't sacrifice my sleep for you." A smile beams on his lips, and I laugh. "What's up? Everything's okay?"

, he smirked much to her amusement. She picked up her phone and left his room to face time Steff, "Yooo babe, how are you, you're still there. Won't you be coming back again, infact where are you?", Steff questioned. "I am.... "Hey, nice meeting you", Rashid cut in, he had removed the singlet he had worn earlier in the room when he was taking to Janelle. Janelle turned her back to see him shirtless, his tanned skin, bulging muscles, six very well muscles abs, he wore his Jean, but it was left open at his thigh level.