Vegeta Sweater Novels & Stories

Ivan: See you in a few hours. 'grinning emoji.' Grinning, I quickly typed. Seraphina: Waiting. 'Blushing'. After finishing my assignments, I cleared the table and reached for my clothes. My gaze landed on the sweater I had been looking forward to wearing—a chunky, knitted beige cardigan with delicate red bows scattered across the front. The V-neckline was simple, fastened down the centre with matching red buttons. It was a gift from my father, and after two years, slipping it on felt like wrapping myself in a memory. A quiet, bittersweet kind of nostalgia settled over me.

Steam started rising almost immediately. Thea hovered in the doorway, watching me with that half-shy, half-curious look that drove me insane. I glanced over my shoulder, unbuttoning my shirt cuffs. “You planning to bathe fully dressed, sweetheart? Because I can work with that, but I’d rather not.” She laughed again—lighter this time—and pulled the sweater over her head. Underneath was a simple white bra, nothing fancy, but on her it looked like it had been designed by someone with sinful intent. I let my gaze linger, appreciative, and fucking unhurried.

Ava whipped the towel off and padded herself dry. She opened her closet and grabbed a long, light gray cable knitted sweater with a turtleneck collar and a pair of dark gray leggings. After getting dressed, she put on white socks and a pair of tennis shoes. “I’ll just be another minute, Ray.” “It’s fine. Take your time,” Ray yelled back.

"What's this?" "Here." He handed the jersey to her. "I want you to cheer for me this Friday." A small smile broke out on Sarita's face as she took the jersey from him and unfolded it to see his number on the front of it then she turned it to the back and there was his name and number "14". She looked up at him. "You want me to wear this? I'm going to look so small in this." Vikrant grinned. "Couldn't find one that's your size. You'll wear it, though?" He looked hopeful.

The warm water cascaded over him, soothing his tensed muscles and he let out a sigh of relief. The omega finished quickly and walked out, a towel wrapped around his waist. He frowned when he saw the room empty. "Did he leave?" Vernon wondered, looking around. His gaze fell on the clothes laid on the bed. Black turtleneck sweater and blue jeans. The omega stared at it for a moment before he shrugged. "At least he is considerate." The clothes fit perfectly and Vernon stood in the mirror, admiring himself. The sweater was tight and the long sleeves accentuated his arms while the blue jeans emphasized his long legs and tapered waist.

“It’s just over a T-shirt and some jeans.” “Okay, so just put one of your sweaters on. It’ll make the bralette less sexual.” Leona says. “A sweater?” Liviana mumbles in question, turning to go through her things once more. “Like a hoodie?” “No, no, no. I said to make it less sexual, not take the sexy right out of it.” Liviana rolls her eyes. “Then what type of sweater?” “You got a cream cardigan?” Leona suggests after a moment of wonder.

Kalex laughed at him. I just passed him and sat down. Joshua and the others are still joking with him. Joshua also approached afterwards. He handed me a red sweater, one of our collaboration designs. it comes with a black tote bag with a design of a mixture of crescent moon and rose. I change my clothes into high waist short, then the sweater, Airmax shoes. My hair is messy bun and my makeup is even lighter. Kalex is sweatpants, red shirt from the collaboration item, then Nike shoes and belt bag. Only the shoes and bottom are not from our collaboration design.

The monthly sale display showed that tens of thousands of units were already sold. "You only have one sweater for winter, and you don't have any spares. Buying one would at least give you a backup. This one has good reviews as they say it offers great value for money. Plus, I think this style would look good on you," Serenity explained.

“Since when do you own workout clothes, Uncle Tom?” Aurora leaned against the kitchen doorway the next morning, arms crossed under her breasts, watching her uncle move around the living room. Tom pushed the coffee table aside and laid out a yoga mat. He wore tight black sweats that stretched across his broad chest and showed off arms that looked stronger than she remembered, paired with black gym shorts that hung low on his hips. Tom paused mid-push-up, sweat already glistening on his forehead. His jaw tightened as he looked up at her, breath coming steady but heavy.

“I’ll have the car ready at four. Just in case.” Saturday arrived with cold rain and gray skies. Victoria stood in front of her closet for the second time in a month, trying to choose armor. Not the silk dress that made her feel dangerous. Something quieter. Something that said I am not afraid of you, but I am also not trying to impress you. She settled on a cashmere sweater the color of heather and simple black trousers. Minimal jewelry. Hair down, no heavy makeup. She looked like herself—not Victoria Hamilton, corporate warrior, and not Victoria the grieving widow or Victoria the scandalous second wife. Just Victoria.