Vegeta Sweater Novels & Stories

He thumbs the material of my sweater. “Right? I think it’s so cute” I smile, rocking back and forth. “Why are you wearing a sweater? It’s so hot out” Luke laughs at me. “It’s freezing in the mall” I laugh. “Plus, if I get hot I can just take this sweater off, see” I laugh, lifting the top of my sweater up to expose the bralette. It’s one of the bralette that can also pass as a shirt. It comes down to little before my belly button.

“Something that screams you.” “Denver naman, ang dami mo nang binili noong—” “This one’s for me,” he said softly. “I want to see you wear something I picked.” Inside, a Korean saleslady approached. “Would you like to try winter sets? Couple style?” I choked a little. “Uh… yes. But just individual pieces.” She brought out a beige knit sweater, a scarf, and a beret. “Go try this one,” Denver said, handing it to me.

Not this. As Eva was about to pull the bralette, he stopped her. "Put your clothes on" "What?!!" She asked confused "Why are you wearing that?" He asked pointing to her breasts Eva's faced burned with embarrassment. "Because I like it. Besides ladybug is my favourite cartoon character" she said felling shy. He shook his head helplessly as he put his shirt back on. "Why are you wearing your shirt?...I thought we.." "Do you want to break in half?" He cut Eva off

Aria was slightly shocked by Theodore’s question. She had promised Amanda that she would make Theodore wear the sweater she had knitted. To ensure this, Aria had hidden Theodore’s trench coat earlier, knowing she would succeed in getting him to wear that sweater. “Where did you get this sweater from?” Theodore asked again, coldly. It seemed as if he already knew the answer. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk, boring into Aria's eyes. “From a departmental store. Where else would I get it?” Aria said with a casual smile.

Ten minutes later, he’s slouched on a bench outside the dressing room, arms crossed, hood up like he’s hiding from God. I pop my head out from behind the curtain. “Red or green?” He barely glances up. “Red.” I smirk. “Good choice.” Back behind the curtain, I shimmy out of my shirt and slide the red sweater down over my head. It’s tight. Soft. Hits right above the waistline of my jeans. No bra underneath — just cold air, hard nipples, and reckless decisions. I adjust the hem, turn to check the mirror, twist my hips just to feel the fabric stretch across my ass.

Such a beautiful one. That day, his sweater did not have a high collar. It was a crewneck, and I remember that because I was staring at his Adam's apple and wondering if he liked to be kissed on his neck. That led into wondering if he liked to be kissed other places, and that led to imagining what his chest looked like beneath the knit sweater, and if he had that line of muscle on his ribs that some guys do, and if he had that defined V-line on his stomach that pointed beneath the waistband of those black jeans he was wearing and...

"Warm." "Good. Now, look." Elion reached into the other bag. He pulled out the sweater. He held it up. "Look what I found." Cale stared at the sweater. His eyes widened. The dullness receded, replaced by a flicker of recognition—not from memory, but from the painting. "The armor," Cale whispered. "It's not armor. It's wool." "In the painting... it protects you." "It keeps me warm. That's a kind of protection."

She got up and crossed the room to give Leesa a big welcome back hug. Cali was wearing black jeans and a bright, pinkish-orange lightweight sweatshirt with I LOVE PINK printed across the front in giant block letters. Smaller letters proclaiming PINK RULES ran down the length of one sleeve. Leesa had never seen this sweatshirt on Cali and guessed it was probably a Christmas present. One thing about the Pink people—they were certainly not bashful about letting the world know which clothes belonged to their popular line. “This is my friend Vanina,” Cali said when she let Leesa go.

Thank you very much love. I simultaneously open my eyes as a cry escapes my mouth, and reach out a hand for the cherry-shaded sweater with the number 24 printed in the middle. The mug and the sweater are genuine, I'm not imagining it and that makes me feel abuse in my chest. Without giving up the little infinity, I bring the sweater closer to my face and take a deep breath. It smells like nuts and mint, it smells like him, similar to Melido; I know in my heart that this is the way it smells.

Jimmie is, of course, delighted that she let down her hair as he hears her say, her voice taking on that teasing quality he has come to know and love so well, "Well son I hope you don't think my new sweater is also 'too professional'." He glances briefly at the sweater and is lost. Besides besides being super tight, he notices her sweater boasts a beautiful open knit crocheted look that is practically see through!! A fact he can't help but to notice as he stares at her chest helplessly and notices the dark outline of her nipples.