#like having rubber soles that have like grit make them into shoes I feel

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Our Doll 2//Awake

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes

Chapter Summary | y/n finds a way to cope with the stress

Warnings | smut, vaginal sex, swearing, mentions of drug usage

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"G'morning, baby." Steve mumbled huskily, one eye opening into a squint so her could look at me without being blinded by the unforgiving sun spilling like water through the curtains that we may or may not have forgotten to close in our lustful hurry last night.

"Morning." I whispered back, fully aware of the brunet super soldier laying peacefully asleep behind me, cool metal arm sling over my waist atop the duvet. His hot, steady breath fanned over my neck, his nose buried into my hair. I was laying on my side, simply watching steve as he slept until he had clearly awoken.

"It's rude to stare, you know." He mumbled back lazily, eyes finally fluttering open. A wide smile played on my lips, as it always did when I could look so deeply into those ocean blue eyes.

"Sorry." I smile back, eyes pleading. A chuckle, low and rumbling, came from Steve at the sound of my disjointed, broken morning voice. "Hey!" I whisper-shouted, untucking my hand from under my head to slap Steve's bare chest, but he caught my wrist with ease. He slowly pulled it up to his face, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my hand, lips feathering against my skin.

"Now I'm sorry. I somehow forgot how you're still recovering." Steve apologised, continuing to press his lips to my hand, eyes looking into mine. I shuddered slightly, letting my free hand raise to my neck, my fingers dancing faintly over the long, horizontal scar spanning the space. The memory, the pain, still haunted me. Haunted me like a ghost that was sent for me, and only me. My dreams had often been filled with these images - ones of a flashing silver blade, sinister splatters of blood, grotesque and open wounds. The thought made me shudder again, as if to shake off the bad memories.

"You know that one won't be awake for a while." I mumbled, taking a glance at the clock over Steve's shoulder, seeing that it was barely nine am. Steve smiled against my hand, eyes loving.

"I know. So why don't we have a little fun while we wait?" He grinned, almost boyishly, a level of lust clouding the pure blue that usually dazzled across his eyes. I quirked a brow, expectantly, as Steve kept looking at my mischievously from under his long lashes, lips travelling quickly towards my neck.

He grabbed my other wrist, chuckling lowly as I giggled when he flipped us, gently pulling me from Bucky's grasp which earnest us a longing groan but not even a stir, before I was under Captain America in his bed.

Steve's lips didn't leave my skin once, his skin soft against mine as put naked bodies rutted into one another, my head thrown against the pillows now as I felt the surge of arousal pang at my core. One of this thick fingers traced my slit, circling my cliff lightly before he was pulling it away, offering the digit for me to lick clean. I moan at my taste, the sound matching Steve's groan as his cock hardened watching my suck off his finger.

"Ready baby?" He breathed, lining himself up with my dripping heat and pushing in when I whispered with a nod. His palm covered my mouth, strangling my moans and muffling any noise as he begun to thrust, slow but hard, the headboard slowly knocking into the wall behind us. The thumping of wood against plaster only made me more aroused, the realisation of how strong to man above me actually was.

With his free hand, Steve ran his fingers over my arm and up my wrist, before tangling them with mine and pressing my hand into the pillow beside me face, gripping me tight. His face was buried in the joint where my neck and shoulder met, his soft grunts disguised by my flesh as he bit down on my skin to keep himself quiet. My other hand claws at his back, harsh enough for boy of us to know there'd be lines down his back when this was done.

The trimmed patch of hair at the base of his cock scraped across my clit with every thrust, sending jolts of pleasure through me and causing stars to cloud my vision.

It was obvious we were both getting close when we heard Bucky speak.

"Getting started without me?" His raspy husk of a morning voice pondered, the bed dipping by my shoulder as he propped himself up on a fore arm. Steve groaned, lifting his face from my neck and turning it to the side, giving Bucky a glare. But his hips never stopped moving into mine. In fact, they only seemed to speed up, his pelvis slapping into mine hard enough to leave bruises.

"Don't mind me. I think it's a rather lovely sight to wake up to." Bucky grinned, his tongue tracing his bottom lip as he watch steve lift his palm from my mouth, tangling his hand with mine as a jumble of moans and pleas finally fell from my lips. "Make her cum."

And with those words alone I was seeing white splotches across my vision, my hips bucking up desperately and Steve threw his head back, the tightness of my walls from my orgasm causing his own.

"F-fuck! Y/n!" He moaned loudly, collapsing on top of me as he painted my walls with his seed. My eyes were still lost somewhere in my skull, chest heaving as I slowly ran my fingers through Steve's hair, his head resting against my chest.

"How about we fill in Bucky on what he's missed?" Steve murmured in my ear, teeth nipping along my neck, a smirk tugging at our lips.

...

Pulling her hood up further over her head, y/n quickened her steps. One of the other downsides that came from the night Bucky returned was that her face was now well know. With the amount of reporters and just cameras in general that were at the party her dad had originally thrown to celebrate the first proper steps of her recovery, y/n's face was probably the most well-know one in New York second to maybe only Tony Stark's himself.

The pavement slapped beneath the rubber soles on her shoes, the dirtied black trainers helping y/n blend in against the see of clearly struggling people. Her eyes stayed narrow, fixated on my target as she eyed the small alleyway, three doors away from Benjies, a little run-down cafe that no one wanted to buy and no one could afford to buy. The bricks swallowed any hint of safety, dark shadows lurked almost as anxiously as the people they concealed.

Sharply turning on her heel, y/n pivoted into the dingy space between two broken buildings, litters of waste, used joints and other miscellaneous junk scattered the crumbled tarmac floor, the gaps between bricks stuffed full with moss and wrappers whilst the bricks themselves were marked up with paints of all colours, forming poetic pieces of scrabbling artwork that decorated the discarded buildings.

Y/n cleared her throat, nerves bubbling as she approached the also hooded-figure who was leant casually against the left wall, giving the illusion he knew it well. But y/n could tell from the way his slender body was slightly tensed, brown eyes darting as the drips of clinging water shattered against stone and the way his hand rested over the side of his thigh - ready to pull out the small gun at a splits second notice that he was only once familiar with this place, but had neglected it - even fled it, for a long while now.

"You sure you wanna do this, kid?" His voice was soothing, a complete contrast to y/n's abused, scratchy one as she gritted through her teeth,

"Don't tell me what to do, Sam. You promised you'd give me the name of your supplier, no questions asked." She ground the last words out, hands falling from her pockets and balling to fists at her side. Sam sighed deeply, pushing himself from the wall and sauntering closer, closing the gap between him and y/n as he rolled his eyes obnoxiously at her irked stance.

"I know, just consider what you're doing. This shit can really fuck you up, I stopped for a reason." Sam suggested, fingers curling over her shoulder his his hand settled there, a comforting gesture.

"I know what I'm doing. I just- I can't keep up with the stress." Y/n admitted, a vulnerable crunch behind her grit teeth as she tried to spit the words out. Sam held his hands up in surrender, backing up a step when he saw the dangerous lurk to y/n's eyes.

"I know, I know." He offered a small smile, dipping a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and fishing out a small slip of paper, torn edges and all. He crammed the piece into y/n's waiting hand, but didn't let go as he looked directly into her eyes. "I'm sorry. I know it's tough, and I get why. Hell, it's exactly what I did. But it's a steep slope, one that few get off of." He warned.

"I understand, are we done now?" Y/n scoffed, her indifference unnerving yet the facade held cracks that few could see.

"Just don't let your boys know I gave that number to you. I know both of them would give me hell if they ever found out I was involved." Sam requested, and y/n gave him a cert nod.

"They won't find out. Promise." Y/n even punctuated her words with a tight smile, although it didn't quite touch her eyes. Sam returned the gesture, all be it slightly warmer, before he was brushing past her, clearly desperate to leave the little alleyway before anyone could catch him.

[eirist]

Little Bits and Pieces of Heaven

FEAST YOUR EYES

One-shot #: 19

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning:OOC possible. One shot. PWP.

Rating:M (Just implications and some words)

Note: So this is inspired by the Kingdom dance in Tangled, a Nami line in One Piece Treasure Cruise and the fact that I want to slash a prompt from the drabble list. Prompt #88: “Come here” done. And if you want an idea on how bouncy the jig Brook’s playing, play the one from Titanic (the third class party).

Summary: “Have you done enough feasting swordsman?”

The celebration was already in full swing.

Some of the townsfolk started dancing underneath the brightly illuminated town square as Brook began playing a jig with a borrowed fiddle.

It didn’t take long for the other citizens to join the musician with their own instruments.

Usopp—who was standing on a makeshift stage—leapt down and ran towards the throng of dancers, shouting gleefully at his crew mates to join the fun.

With a loud and cheerful yell, Luffy bounded towards the dancers with a chunk of meat in one hand and Chopper on the other.

As if on cue, everyone was now pulling random bystanders and inviting people off the wooden benches and feasting tables to join the dancing.

Soon, the other Mugiwaras were doing the same. Franky offered a hand to Robin, who was sitting on the bench, clapping her hand in time with the music. The archaeologist smiled and conceded.

Sanji was about to ask Nami but his effort was thwarted by Usopp suddenly grabbing the navigator’s hand to drag her in a circle he, Luffy and Chopper had made.

The cook shouted curses and threats but his voice was drowned by the music, laughter and clapping.

Zoro smirked from the sidelines, mentally thanking the sniper from whisking Nami away from the perverted cook’s clutches. He took a swig from his mug and shook his head to refuse a pretty girl, and another, who were asking him to join the dance as well.

He silently observed his friends; spinning around and around, holding hands as if it they were just on the lawn deck of the Sunny, playing ring-around-the-rosy game. They were jumping and prancing to the lively beat with seemingly boundless energy. He can hear them laughing and cheering and he grinned at the fact that they are enjoying themselves.

They really should. After kicking the ass of the island’s former tyrannical ruler and his ridiculous minions, they deserve it.

That was the reason why a feast was being held on their honor. Even if they repeatedly said they are not heroes and was just passing by without really any intention to free the oppressed island.

One steely eye settled on the orange-haired woman as Usopp twirled Nami around. Zoro watched her giggle girlishly when Luffy did the same, before their captain clumsily stepped on her foot. That earned the rubber man a fist in the face as his head hilariously ricocheted, almost hitting Franky’s back before Nami went and grabbed Chopper’s hand and they whirled together around laughing.  

Her hair shone brightly under the yellow lights strung above the town square. She looked radiant, charming even (though he knows how deadly that charm is, he had seen men lured into their doom by that alone); more so when she threw back her head and laughed merrily as Sanji tried to seize her hand again in an attempt to dance with her and Luffy unwittingly intercepted by jumping on the chef’s arms.

There was another frustrated scream, followed by a lot of curses and kicking as Zoro rolled his eye.

Stupid cook. Serves him right.

The music continued playing, it seemed endless. And instead of tiring the people out, it only served to make them more enthusiastic as they all clapped, cheered, stomped their foot with the music and laughed, louder than before.

Nami had finally relented and let the blond idiot dance with her and spin her around, thrice, before blood—as expected—spurted out from his nose. From what, Zoro did not bother finding out as he fought the urge to roll his eye again at absurdity of it all. Of course it was not helping that the mapmaker had donned a light blue lace bustier top (he heard her call it that during one tiring, laundry day), and her chest was practically spilling out of it.

Not that he was eyeing her… but yes.

If Nami was able to make him look… then he doesn’t even want to think what it was doing to the other men within the vicinity with less restraint than him. Take swirly brows for example.

He studied her at the rim of his mug as he took another sip of his beer. She was trying to catch her breath, her hands on her hips, shaking her head as Chopper hurriedly took care of their fallen comrade. Surprisingly, there was a remnant of smile on her face as she watched everything before her as the others continued to zealously dance the night away.

Her chest heaved as she tried to get her breathing back to normal and he didn’t missed the way the soft mounds in front of her bounced slightly at each movement. And the dainty gold chain she was wearing around her neck wasn’t doing anyone a favor as it only guaranteed to catch anyone’s eyes and lead it straight down to her cleavage.

His gaze trailed upwards. Her long orange hair was loose and the curling tresses looked wild as if someone had deliberately tousled it by raking their fingers through it. There were errant strands sticking against her neck due to sweat. She was breathing through pursed lips and her face was flushed prettily.

She damn looked like she had been thoroughly kissed.

Or even better…

She looked exactly the way she does after a night of having his way with her. 

Something instantly stirred inside him and he can feel himself starting to swell at the thought of taking her again… probably tonight if possible.

He didn’t realize he was biting at the rim of his mug; not until he gritted his teeth when a love-struck fool approached her to try his luck.

He composed himself and shifted his attention to his liquor. It’s probably best to just enjoy his drink and temporary peace for now. He still got a barrel—scratch that—or two, to finish up before he was done feasting for the night. Besides, with all the merriment going on and knowing his friends… this could go well until dawn.

Zoro refilled his mug, momentarily glancing back at the crowd to check on Nami and the others when his eye met hers.

She must’ve refused the man earlier, as she was standing alone now. He saw the way her face lit up when she saw him looking and an enticing but rather devious smile appeared on her lips.

He fixed her with a stare, even as he tipped his mug back to drink his beer.

There was a tap on his shoulder and he was a bit peeved at the interruption. He grudgingly tore his eye away from Nami. A lovely girl was standing beside him with a shy smile on her face. She was asking him if he wanted to dance and he immediately shook his head to turn her down, trying his damnedest to be polite as much as possible.

He went back to drinking and refusing another girl's invitation to dance again. He was well on his way to his fourth mug when he felt someone swiftly sidle closer to him.  The distinct scent of mikans gave her away and Zoro wasn’t a bit surprised to find a pair of smooth, shapely legs just in line with his unimpaired vision.

“Are you done making pretty girls cry tonight?”

He lazily flicked an eye up on her face and scoffed.

Nami was smiling cheekily as she took the liberty of sitting on the table where he was drinking, nonchalantly crossing her leg over the other and setting one strappy heeled foot on the space beside his seat, letting the other just dangle in mid-air.

She placed her elbow on her knee, resting her chin in her hand as her brown eyes trailed over him up and down slowly.

Zoro threw back his drink draining the mug’s content in one gulp… before letting out a loud belch knowing it would ruffle her feathers.

The navigator’s face scrunched into a frown at his uncouthness. “You are such a pig Zoro!”

His grin was wide when he saw her expression.

She stuck here tongue out at him. “Have you done enough feasting swordsman?” Nami inquired as she observed that the table was almost food-free.

When he didn’t answer again, she decided to poke his leg with the pointy heel of her shoe. “Well… have you?” She probed as she poked him again, prompting him to clamp down a hand around her ankle.

“Nope,” Zoro replied. “Not yet.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Please don’t tell me what you wolfed down earlier and the three barrels of booze were still not enough?” She keeps forgetting how Zoro is just like their gluttonous captain… his appetite was just a voracious.

The smirk that appeared on his face set off the alarm bells inside her head as his thumb started rubbing the inside of her ankle, just below the strap, sending a wave of warm pleasure all over her body.

“There’s something else I want to feast on tonight.”

Nami’s breath hitched at that. With one arm he managed to scoop her up by the waist as he stood up, growling a ‘come here’, before throwing her over his shoulder.

“ZORO!” She yelped, smacking him on his back, even as she hooked an arm around his neck.

Zoro quickly glanced around to see is anyone can see them. Thank heavens all of their nakama and townspeople were still in the reveling zone; partying their hearts out.

He chuckled as he started walking away from all the merrymaking. He surreptitiously slid a hand inside her short skirt to give her ass a slap.

Shivers ran up and down Nami’s spine as an excited moan escaped her before she can even stop herself. Her insides started to throb in anticipation in what he might have in store for her tonight.

She pushed herself off his shoulder a little so she can look at his face. “At least know where you are going Zoro.”

“Does it really matter where?”

“At least somewhere with a bed idiot.”

They rounded a corner of a random dwelling, just as Brook started playing another jig and the whole town erupted into cheers and clapping again.

“We don’t need a bed Nami,” He whispered huskily.“You’re not sleeping tonight.”

The heat she was feeling immediately shot straight into her head. “Oh fuck.” Nami gasped, biting her lip as Zoro started planting wet kisses on her jaw and neck.  

"Yeah... all night long." He assured her as he crushed her lips against hers.

This is definitely going to be one night she wouldn’t mind losing sleep.   

[izupie]

Fox Blossom

Kacchako - Bakugou Katsuki x Uraraka Ochako (My Hero Academia)

Words: 5,302

Tags: Kitsune Bakugou, Fluff, Hanami

AO3 Link: [xXx]

Note: Happy Kacchako Discord Server Gift Exchange Swap Day! (Try saying that five times fast...) The wonderful people at the @kacchako-server have all made gifts for each other!

My gift was for Syque - I was prompted to write some Kitsune!Bakugou, and boy oh boy I do not need encouragement to go down that road. This is actually set in the same universe as Fox Fire, but it’s just ahead in the story somewhat. So, mild spoilers I guess??

----------------------

A bright crimson explosion of Fox Fire accompanied Bakugou’s entrance into the Human World – bursting around him before it swirled and faded into the air like mist. He shook his eight tails out and fanned them lazily behind himself.

The path leading up to Uravity-Inari Shrine was wet where it had been washed down, sparkling in the weak morning light. All the lamps lining it had been blown out too, so she’d obviously already been awake for some time - probably before sunrise again. Bakugou placed a clawed hand on his hip, his golden bracelets jingling with every movement.

It was still early, but the sky was clear and Bakugou had to resist the urge to tilt his head up and close his eyes in the warmth of the sun. It had a different quality than the sunshine in the Spirit World. It was somehow... more real... or something.

The rattling of a sliding wooden door interrupted his thoughts and an ear flicked in the direction of Uraraka’s tiny house. When he turned she was closing her front door behind her and wrestling with the stiff catch to get it locked into its frame and his burgundy eyes narrowed in confusion at her appearance; she was wearing a short green skirt and a white shirt. When she finally got the lock to catch with a sigh, she spun around and straightened a red tie around her neck. It threw him completely to see her in something other than her Miko uniform during the day. She noticed him and waved, but his usual scowl remained fixed in place even as her waving increased in speed and she yelled his name as she trotted over. An old wicker basket with a cloth tucked over its contents swung wildly in the crook of her arm.

“Disguise yourself as a human!” She burst out as she neared.

His ears flattened. “What-”

“It’s Hanami time,” she said in a breathless explanation, her big brown eyes shining with excitement, “so you’ve got to disguise yourself as a human, okay?”

All eight of Bakugou’s tails flicked in different directions. “Slow the fuck down. What’s Hanami? And what’s with those weird clothes-”

“We’re going undercover.” She laughed playfully. “Come on - I’ll explain when we get there!”

Without waiting for a reply, Uraraka reached over and grabbed his hand. She grinned at him, her round cheeks pink and flushed with her energy, then gave his arm a little tug to encourage him to follow her.

“H-Hey!” He growled.

All of Bakugou’s fiery responses were disarmed in instant by the combination of that smile and the feel of her soft soft skin in his hand. He knew his palms were heavily calloused and scarred from the effects of him pushing his powers and he was careful not to let the claws on the end of his fingers cut her skin, but she hadn’t even hesitated to hold his hand or flinched at the feel of them.

With a groan he allowed himself to be pulled along by the tiny bossy Miko, while her hand remained tight around his, making her arm pull behind her as she trotted a pace or two ahead of him. He wondered if she knew that she was the only person in his world or hers that could get him to do things like this. Although right then it made his skin twitch with frustration that he was letting himself be led along like a stray dog. As a Kitsune he should be ashamed of himself... But if he’d have refused to come he wouldn’t have put it past her to have fully dragged his ass to wherever she was taking him anyway. He’d spent most of his long life avoiding humans, believing them to be weak and worthless, but she was the most tenacious being he’d ever met, human or not, with an inner spirit as strong as her ideals and she possessed a courage like nothing he’d ever seen. It was like this lonely girl held no fear of him at all... It both pissed him off and fucking impressed him in equal measure.

Her hair bounced around her shoulders as they rapidly descended the steps snaking down Uravity Hill, the stone weathered and cracked beneath their feet, while all his jewellery jingled loudly. There was a distinct absence of the satisfying clacking noise Uraraka’s wooden sandals made on the stone, as her odd clothing choice included brown rubber soled shoes and his bare feet made barely more than a whisper.

When they finally reached the bottom of the steps Uraraka took a deep breath and wiped some sweat from her hairline. She didn’t often make the journey down the hill, especially at speed like that, and he guessed it was a different kind of exercise to her usual running laps around the Shrine. Her red cheeks were even more vibrant than usual with the exertion. He was about to finally demand that she tell him what was going on when Uraraka pulled him forward a few paces and looked pointedly both ways down the path that ran across the beginning of the steps, peeking around the huge columns of the red Tori Gate that indicated the entrance to the hill. Seemingly satisfied she turned back to him so suddenly her hair flicked up around her face like it could float.

“Coast is clear,” she stated with a smile, “so you can go ahead and change.”

Bakugou let out an angry sigh, “My human form is weak.”

He felt a jab of something he couldn’t identify in his gut when he realised he wasn’t sure whether he didn’t want to be in a weakened state for himself, as he hated how sluggish his reflexes and powers were, or whether it was for her; she’d sooner try and fight a demon than run away or leave someone else in danger and that left her in the firing line...

“Hey, humans can be strong too,” Uraraka said with a sly look, as if sensing his thoughts. She squeezed his hand, and he knew she was thinking of the time she’d slammed him to the ground like a bag of fucking rice back when she’d called him out for his hidden identity. He couldn’t help the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk at the memory he should be embarrassed about, because a spark of respect had been burning away at his shame ever since then - when he’d gaped up with disbelief at her furious expression, his back pressed hard against the floor.  

What had this damn Miko done to him?

“Maybe humans are only strong when they can catch someone off guard...” Bakugou conceded, trying to push away his racing, confusing, conflicting feelings.

Uraraka grinned. “Maybe Kitsunes should be less full of themselves and see humans as stronger than they look - then they wouldn’t be caught so ‘off guard’ when they’re proven wrong.”

Bakugou nearly let out a bark of laughter at just how accurate she was. How the fuck did she do that?

“Alright Round-Face, here’s a deal...” He felt a smug jab of satisfaction when his nickname for her made her huff. “I go to wherever you’re dragging me to, but then when we get back to the Shrine we’re having a rematch. A real one - no powers, no special abilities, just the two of us... Then we’ll see who the strong one is.”

Uraraka’s eyes flashed with excitement and a steely expression fixed itself onto her face. “You’re on, Kitsune, it’s a deal!”

Something odd and light twisted into Bakugou’s stomach.

“Someone’s gotta teach you real form anyway. Books can’t teach you shit about how it feels to actually put that stuff into practice,” he grumbled.

“Are you bad mouthing my book-teachers?” Uraraka gasped. “You force my hand into defending their honour.” She brought a fist up in front of her face. (Her other hand still hadn’t let go of his yet.)

Bakugou cleared his throat and looked at the sky. “Save it for later, Round-Face.”

She giggled, and he absolutely and completely refused to listen to the tiny voice in his head screaming cute at him. No fucking way.

Uraraka reached over to ruffle his fluffy, spiky hair - she had to stand on her tip-toes - but he ducked his head away with a strangled attempt at a growl, that came out weak from the tingle of pleasure it sent rocketing down his spine as her hand accidentally brushed the fur over the sensitive skin on one of his fox ears.

“You can complain about it all you want when we get there,” she declared, free hand resting on her hip, totally unaware of what she could do to him with just one touch. “We don’t even have to stay long. But this will be something... nice that we can do together, before... you know.” Her expression grew sad and she looked away slightly. “Happy memories are like charms against dark thoughts. They have more power than you think.”

Bakugou wondered how often she had relied on this sentiment to get her through the two years she’d spent totally alone.

“There’ll also be some fried tofu,” she added, with a coy glance at him and a wiggle of the basket she was holding on her elbow.

He kept it cool with a shrug and a noncommittal, “Fine. As long as our deal holds I’ll stay as long as you want.”

Bakugou finally let go of her hand to unclip the many golden earrings from his fox ears, and he pulled off his bracelets and his choker, but paused for a moment before offering them out for Uraraka. She took them from him with a serious expression, clutching his jewellery tightly in her hand before she tucked them into the safety of her basket.

He closed his eyes and let out a small breath, then tapped into his inner powers and let it flow over his skin.

The tingles were unpleasant and there was a painful jolt in his heartbeat as his body dealt with the sudden numbness and loss of his fox limbs. His ears and tails faded, replaced with human ears, and a phantom burning stung where his tails should be. He kept the magic going and gritted his teeth, kitsune canine fangs now smaller and human sized too, as he fought to keep his features impassive through the odd pain shifting into this form gave him.

Changing his appearance through an illusion was easy and painless; he was still the same fundamentally, he was just changing how he was perceived. Even shifting into his fox form was barely more than an inconvenience. It was only ever his human form that felt so unnatural.

There was nothing he could do to shift his clothes, as they were not organically a part of him, so they could only be disguised through an illusion. On the outside it would look like he was wearing a white shirt and green pants that matched Uraraka’s clothing (he refused to add a tie to the illusion) but he was actually still wearing his tight black tank top, baggy pants and arm sleeves.

If it wasn’t so damn sunny he could have hidden his fox features under an illusion too, but his shadow couldn’t be changed, so it would be a pointless endeavour if the first person that saw his shadow noticed the eight kitsune tails and ears on his head.

With a final steadying breath, the transformation was complete.

When he opened his eyes Uraraka was staring, and he briefly wondered what it would have looked like to her. Her eyebrows were tilted down in concern, worry clouding her features, and it was only when she gave his hand another squeeze that he realised they were holding hands again.

“Are you okay? I didn’t think... I didn’t know it would hurt you... Does it hurt? I wouldn’t have asked if I’d have known.” She bit her lip.

Bakugou instantly let go as if she’d burned him, shoving his hands into the pockets of his illusion, feeling them as real as his normal clothes.

“Fuck no. It’s just... weird,” he lied with a shrug.

He hoped he hadn’t reached out for her hand without realising. Gods that would be embarrassing. At least in this form he had no fox ears that would flatten and give him away, or multiple tails that would flick and bristle along with his moods. (She’d already figured out his damn tells for when he was lying.)

He chanced a glance down at the hand he’d thrown off and noticed the redness of her skin from where he’d obviously gripped her too hard, which only made him scowl from the guilt and hiss an irritated ‘tch’.

“Well I’m still sorry all the same,” she supplied, undeterred by his attitude, which only made his scowl deeper because she still knew he was lying, regardless of the form he was in. “Anyway, now you’re ready we can....”

Her voice trailed away and after a few moments of silence Bakugou became aware of her intense gaze fixed on him and he shifted uncomfortably. His voice came out in a snap, “What?”

Her eyes roamed his face, and he felt an unwanted flush of heat burning into the tips of his human ears at her scrutiny.

“Look - if you’re just going to fucking stare then-”

She blinked. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just... I forgot that your eyes are green when you’re like this. I miss your red eyes, they’re more you.” She added, with a crinkle of her nose.

Bakugou felt the heat from his ears spreading onto his cheeks, but he managed a rough, “Huh?”

“And your markings,” she continued, bringing a hand up between them like she was fighting the urge to reach out and touch the skin beneath his eyes. “It’s weird to see you without those little red stripes.”

With no indication he was going to pull away, she let a finger hesitantly close the distance between them and gently (oh so gently) touch just above his cheek where his red Kitsune stripes used to be. Bakugou’s breathing sped up along with his erratic heartbeat and he wondered if he was suffering after effects of the transformation.

“Oh! And your hands!” Uraraka squeaked, tearing her hand away and reaching down to pull his up for her to inspect. “They’re so soft now. No scars.” She ran her thumbs over his palms. “No claws either,” she observed.

He tried to keep his voice steady, but it cracked on his very first word, “Human form,” he cleared his throat again, “dumbass. Don’t see many humans running around with claws.”

Uraraka smiled. “It just doesn’t seem right somehow! I think I miss your cute fluffy ears and tails most of all though,” she lamented, gazing sadly at the top of his head, her fingers idly lacing together with his, jolting that odd feeling in the bottom of his stomach again.

“Don’t call them fucking cute,” he snapped, making her chuckle. “Are we going or not?”

“You’re right! Gotta get there before all the best spots are taken, come on!” Uraraka released him and sped away from him. He took a deep, deep breath and let it out shakily, then jogged after her to catch up.

When Uraraka announced that they had arrived at their destination Bakugou realised why she had insisted he disguise himself first - there were people everywhere and it felt like the entire village had somehow crammed itself into their only park. A sea of pink blossoms stretched out before him. People walked casually beneath their branches on the paths, took selfies with the trees or with each other, or sat together on picnic blankets that nearly covered every inch of grass. There was a loud buzz of laughter and conversation and excitement that almost permeated the air itself, thick with the fragrance of sweet cherry blossoms and the tang of alcohol. Bakugou felt almost dizzy with it all, even with his senses dulled.

“Oh... it doesn’t look like there’s many spaces left, but I think I can still find us a good spot though, you can count on me.” Uraraka flashed him a determined smile.

It was difficult to move through the flow of people walking around the blossom trees and Uraraka apologised when other people bumped into them, making his skin crawl.

When at last she declared that she had found them a place to sit among the trees, she pulled the blanket out from her basket and spread it on the grass, flopping onto it with a happy sigh. Bakugou lowered himself down and sat cross legged.

“What is all this?” he yelled above the noise.

“Hanami!” Uraraka rolled onto her knees and spread out her arms to gesture at the scenery. He frowned, which she obviously took as her cue to explain because she continued happily, “The cherry blossoms bloom and everyone celebrates by coming to see them, because it’s supposed to be good luck for the year to sit beneath them and have a picnic. Today is the first day, so it’s always the busiest.”

Bakugou gave a noncommittal hum as he gazed up at the pink blossoms above them. “Alright, but what’s with the clothes?”

“O-Oh, well, it’s- you have your disguise... and I have mine.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Uraraka straightened out her skirt. “Well... This is my old uniform from the village high school, you see. It still fits me and everything, since I’m so small.” She laughed, but there was no humour in it, and fidgeted with her tie. “I wear it sometimes when I don’t want anyone to notice me.”

Bakugou’s eyebrows drew together in an angry line.

“You’ve seen how everyone in this village gets when they see me,” she sighed defensively, “but if I wear this instead of my Miko uniform they don’t recognise me! Nobody even gives me a second glance... If I don’t feel like attracting attention, I put this on. Today I really didn’t want people to freak out and move away from us, especially since everyone should enjoy Hanami.”

Bakugou scoffed. “You care too much about them and what they think. If they get hung up with their own crazy paranoia, then that’s their problem. Who gives a damn about their opinions anyway? Idiots don’t even know how curses work - it's not like some fucking disease you can catch.”

She sighed again. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone. Not that I even have a curse - because I don’t.” Uraraka waved a hand in the air. “But nobody ever believes me...”

For a moment neither of them said anything, and Uraraka tilted her head up to the softly coloured blossoms, taking a deep breath of the sweetly fragranced air.

“Alright.” Bakugou snapped suddenly, bringing her attention back to him. “Stop wasting time thinking about these loser villagers and show me the food you blackmailed me with.”

“Blackmail? Me?” Uraraka puffed out her pink cheeks, but Bakugou gave her a look and she laughed. “I think you’ll be impressed, ” she leaned forward and rummaged in the basket, “these are some of my best attempts at cooking yet.”

The change in topic seemed to ease some of the tension in her shoulders and the sadness in her eyes. She’d been ostracized by these people for so long that she no longer knew how to function among them, acting like she was using an illusion to hide herself from their notice. After two years of cold shoulders, whispers and suspicion he supposed it was no surprise that she held conflicting feelings about them all.

Shit. He didn’t get why thinking about what they'd done to her made his chest tight with anger...

Bakugou folded his arms.

“Best ‘attempts’ doesn’t fill me with confidence. If your terrible cooking kills me before I get my ninth tail, I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”

Uraraka made a mocking wailing noise and collapsed down onto the blanket, clutching her chest. “Why would you wound me so?” she groaned loudly.

Bakugou was about to bite back a response when he noticed an old woman, sitting with her knees tucked under her on one of the blankets next to them, had shot a withering look over at Uraraka’s terrible, loud acting. She paused, squinting her beady eyes, then leaned over to whisper something into the ear of an old man beside her. The old man’s wrinkled face pulled into an alarmed frown as he also looked over, then he nodded and whispered something back. Bakugou hated that his senses were not sharp enough to pick up on what they were saying, but he watched them closely and felt his palms begin to heat up with the Fox Fire trapped under his human form’s skin - he could guess at what they were talking about.

The old couple began to look nervous, their eyes darting between him and Uraraka, who was now sat upright again and following his angry line of sight. She ducked her head down when she noticed the couple, but not before they got a good look at her face. They spoke in hurried, urgent whispers to each other and began to pack away their picnic in a flap.

Bakugou was sure his hands were going to explode. He rose to his feet.

“You got a fucking problem?” He hissed at them, barely containing his temper and shaking slightly with the effort.

Uraraka violently shook her head. “Bakugou- it’s- it’s fine. Let’s just go. I don’t want to make a scene.”

It was a little too late to not cause a scene, he thought, since his outburst and the old couple’s outraged gasps at his language and attitude had drawn the attention of some of the other picnic-goers around them. He could see some of them muttering to each other, while a few were even trying to shift as far away from her as they could in alarm. Narrow-minded, judgemental, pieces of-

“Too right we’re leaving.” Bakugou nearly yelled, feeling his anger burning him up. He’d never felt like this on someone else’s behalf.

He bent down and placed his hand just below Uraraka's ear, brushing back her long bangs to bring his mouth close enough to whisper a rumbled, “Keep hold of the basket and your damn blanket.”

“E-Eh?” She managed in confusion, redness blooming across her cheeks. He stepped off the pink fabric and Uraraka yelped sharply in surprise as he reached down to scoop her up into his arms. Even as shocked as she was she kept a firm hold of her basket, so it slid into the crook of her elbow again, and her hand grabbed the blanket just as she was lifted from the ground. He may not be as strong in this form, but he was still plenty strong enough. Holding her in his arms was easy.

“B-B-Bakugou- what are you-?”

He knew his idea was bad. He knew his idea was fucking terrible, but he couldn’t stop himself now. Bakugou let his power flow through his veins and pushed it through his whole body until he could feel it trapped and pulsing under his skin.

“Bakugou?” She tried again more insistently, very aware of the faces all turned toward them.

“Hold on tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Uraraka obeyed instantly; wrapping her arms tight around his neck and burrowing her face into his chest, though whether it was through following his instructions or as an excuse to hide her face from the crowd he wasn’t sure.

With her safely secured he finally let his powers push them through the veil into the Spirit World.

The accompanying blast of Fox Fire that marked his entrance through the veil was explosive and bright and washed away his human form, leaving his regular Kitsune appearance behind. He flinched as feeling rushed to his fox limbs.

Uraraka’s arms were still clasped tightly around his neck. She was shivering.

“Hey... You okay Round-Face?” Bakugou rumbled into her hair.

Uraraka shoved her hands hard into his chest, making him grunt in surprise, rolled out of his arms and staggered to her feet, wobbling back a few paces. Her hand was clamped tightly over her mouth to stifle her nausea. Crossing the veil always set off her motion sickness, and it hadn’t been a particularly smooth transition.

Her voice was muffled by her hand, but still laced with anger, “Why’d you do that?! I can’t believe you did that in front of everyone! What will... they... say...” Her voice faded as she finally seemed to notice their surroundings, her eyes widening as she straightened up, though her hand remained firmly at her mouth. “Oh Gods...”

He’d shifted them into a similar location to where they’d been - grassy spaces and blossom trees - except that the blossom trees in the Spirit World were almost twice the size of those they had left behind; their trunks were much thicker, and their mass of branches were teeming with huge bright blossoms way above their heads. The canopy was so thick with pink that it dyed the sunlight filtering through it, giving the air an almost rosy glow. The sun was just as bright here, even if it lacked the warmth he had enjoyed of the Human World version, and it dappled through the spaces between the blossoms and painted the grass below in splotches of soft light.  

That jumpy, fluttery feeling fizzed into his chest again as he watched her under the shifting light; she turned on the spot in pure wonderment, and a bubble of laughter escaped as her hand finally dropped from her mouth. Her cheeks were bright and flushed with pink as her nausea faded and she lost herself in the amazement. She ran to the nearest tree trunk and placed a curious hand against it, gazing straight up into the blossoms, and gasped with joy when a large petal danced down to her from above.

“This is incredible,” she whispered.

You are.

“Looks like a real hanami to me,” he crowed, “way better than the pathetic trees all those damn losers are sitting under right now. You should get double the luck they get.” His voice had an arrogant edge to it, thick with satisfaction.

Uraraka laughed. After a moment her expression darkened. “Pretty sure nobody is going to come to the Shrine now they think I’m in leagues with a Kitsune.” She lamented.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, from what I saw back there that would be the only reason nobody would go the Shrine.” He bit with sarcasm, guilt making his words sharper than he intended.

Uraraka winced. His ears flattened in a guilty response before he could stop them.

Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said that.

He let out a huff and turned away, his ears still flat and tails flicking.

There was an awkward silence before he heard Uraraka approaching slowly. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see her reach up a hand towards his face, and he was curious enough to be still while she moved - until she flicked him on the nose.

“Ow! What the fuck!” He clamped his hands over his nose and jumped back a step. “What was that for?!”

She folded her arms, trying to look stern, but her eyes were immensely sad. He really shouldn’t have said that about her Shrine. The reason everyone thought it was cursed in the first place was because her parents had died there so suddenly one day, leaving her alone to take care of everything and herself.

Insensitive. Insensitive.

He supposed he might have deserved that...

“When foxes say nasty things, you flick them on the nose,” Uraraka declared, holding her hands up as if she simply spoke the truth.

“What the- nobody has ever said that.”

“Oh, you’re right... maybe it was sharks,” she mused, folding her arms.

“What?” Bakugou scoffed. “Nobody has ever fucking said that either!”

“Hmm... Yeah, actually, I think the advice was: ‘When a shark tries to bite you, you punch it in the nose.’” She punched the air.

“Then why’d you flick mine?!” He snapped.

A smile twitched at the corner of her lips and her eyes sparkled with mischief while she continued to punch the air.

She was messing with him. She was fucking messing with him.

He growled a loud sigh, running a hand through his hair, which only served to amuse her further.

“Nobody was ever going to come to the Shrine anyway, were they...” Understanding and acceptance clouded her features.

Bakugou let the question hang in the air; she didn’t need him to tell her what she already knew deep down.

Uraraka suddenly slapped her hands to her cheeks and shook her head, making him jump. “Everything that’s happened since we met has been one crazy thing after another.”

“It’s been pretty fucked up,” he agreed.

“Well,” Uraraka chirped, “I’m done fighting against it.”

She pulled out the pink blanket once more and flapped it high into the air, so it floated gently down onto the grass.

“It’s still Hanami, and we’re still going to have our picnic.” She bounced down to her knees again and tapped the space beside her, motioning for him to take a seat.

Bakugou lowered himself to the blanket, folding his knees to sit cross-legged again, while Uraraka pulled out bundles of food and bottles of drink that she laid out between them.

He was enjoying some fried tofu when she spoke again, nearly making him choke. “I bet they think you’re an evil spirit,” she shot with a sly smile.

Bakugou swallowed hard (it was a little tough, but she’d added some good flavours) and he shrugged, his eight tails fanning out on the blanket behind him. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

She laughed again and gave him one of her sunshine smiles, remembering when they’d first met, and Bakugou let out an amused huff at the memory too.

“I, um...” Uraraka fidgeted with her tie. “I wanted to thank you for getting angry at the villagers for me. I don’t think I’ve seen you that angry but still in control before.”

Bakugou blinked.

“And,” she locked her large brown eyes with his and her expression softened, “thank you for taking me out of there. I don’t know what the fallout will be when I get back... but... that was the first time anyone has really stood up for me, so thank you.”

He cleared his throat and his tails swished agitatedly behind him.

“Yeah... Well... You’re going to be twice as lucky as those bastards now, so they might have forgotten all about it,” he grumbled awkwardly, not used to accepting praise or thanks.

“I can’t believe you don’t celebrate it here in the Spirit World - these blossom trees are incredible,” she murmured, looking up into the canopy again.

“What’s there to celebrate?” Bakugou shrugged. “The trees are just doing what they should.”

“New life! Pretty blossoms! Family and friends!” Uraraka exclaimed, with a clap of her hands on each word.

Bakugou rolled his eyes and picked up some more food.

“It’s actually my first time enjoying all of this since... for a couple of years anyway,” she continued, “so I intend to do it right!”

“So... how do you know when the hamster-y magic has worked anyway?” Bakugou took another bite of fried tofu.

“Hanami,” Uraraka corrected with a laugh. Her gaze became tender as she looked over at him eating her food and an unwanted heat returned to his cheeks.

“What?” He snapped, mouth still full of tofu.

“I’m already feeling like the luckiest girl in both the worlds - so I think it must be working already.”

[allineednow]

<p>Survival tips for cycling in the rain</p>

No one really enjoys riding in the rain. Or do they? One thing's for sure, it is inevitable in the UK if you would like to keep cycling through the winter.  

If you're keen to not allow the rain stop you biking, here are a few tips that will help you survive, and perhaps enjoy, riding in the rain this winter.

1. Waterproof jacket and tights

An absolute essential if you would like to go cycling in the rain is a waterproof jacket. Fabric technology and garment design have come on leaps and bounds in the last few decades (Gore-Tex first introduced its waterproof jacket 30 years ago) and there is currently a huge selection of rain coats that will prevent you from getting soaked through, at a range of prices to suit various budgets.

The challenge with waterproof coats for biking isn't just keeping the rain out, but providing the essential breathability to allow the heat your body generated through exercise to escape. Early waterproof jackets were known as 'boil in the bag' affairs, because though they may have kept the rain out, you would get soaked on the inside from your own sweat. Not ideal.

Fabric technology has really improved the balance of rain protection and breathability and modern cycling jackets are very good at dealing with the tricky task of keeping a hard-working cyclist dry, and many not offer a fine balance of rain protection and body heat control.

In recent decades,  we have seen a fresh solution to tackling riding in wet weather. The now iconic Castelli Gabba jacket is the ideal example of a new approach to dressing for wet rides. It is made from a waterproof fabric with a really close fit and decent breathability. It is not completely waterproof, the seams aren't taped, but it is ideal for showers as opposed to prolonged downpours, and it'll keep you warm to. The Gabba has really caught on, and now quite a few manufacturers offering similar tops now.

While it's obviously important to maintain your top dry when it is raining, you also have to think about your legs. Cycling from the cold and wet makes it tougher for the muscles to operate at their optimum, and your performance can suffer as a result. Keeping your legs wrapped then up is very sensible.

Thin Lycra doesn't offer much rain protection but there is a new breed of winter tights that are treated with a water repellent finish that will keep your legs drier for longer, such as Sportful's NoRain and Castelli's NanoFlex tights and leg warmers.

For commuting a pair of waterproof trousers may be a more suitable choice, and may be worn over regular biking or casual clothes, as and when required. Fit needs to be good, you don't want them flapping in the wind or potentially getting caught in the drivetrain.

2. Dry feet - overshoes, waterproof socks and winter boots

There is no avoiding it, your feet are going to get wet: they're right in the firing line of spray from the front wheel after all. Invest in a set of waterproof overshoes and you should be able to keep your feet a lot drier for longer.

Neoprene overshoes are a fantastic option. They don't keep the rain out but do prevent your feet getting cold when they are wet. For more protection look for an overshoe treated with a Gore-Tex finish or similar membrane for really wet conditions.

Overshoes are available to fit most types of shoe, mountain and road bike soles are catered for. They also double up as extra insulation when the mercury drops, and they're reasonably inexpensive.

The other option, and one that many men and women combine with overshoes or winter boots is a pair of waterproof socks. SealSkins is the most well-known maker of waterproof socks, but others are available too. They are thicker than regular socks so you need to check you can fit them with your sneakers.

The best wet weather protection is probably a dedicated winter boot. Like a regular cycling shoe with a beefed up waterproof upper and some type of membrane liner, they are the best alternative for ensuring your feet stay dry and warm. They are a more expensive option than overshoes but if you're planning to do a lot of cycling through the winter, the investment may be justifiable. If you're just cycling once or twice a week, overshoes are probably better value for money.

3. Waterproof gloves

What is worse, cold feet or cold hands? Neither are very pleasant, so right up there with protecting your feet should be investing in some gloves that will keep your hands dry. When your hands get wet they get cold a lot faster, and numb hands are very unpleasant - I have cut rides brief when I have lost all feeling in my hands before.

The alternative for waterproof gloves varies hugely, from neoprene gloves that retain warmth even when wet.   Bigger winter gloves feature a waterproof lining or a soft shell construction, but they can be bulky or restrict dexterity.

One of my favourite tricks for long rides once I know it's going to be wet is to take a spare pair of gloves sealed in a plastic bag and change halfway across the route.

4. Keep your head dry

A dry head is a happy mind. Your mind is clearly first in line to get pelted by the rain, and a well-ventilated lightweight helmet doesn't offer much shelter. Wearing a cap underneath it, or a cover over the top, will keep your noggin dry.

A cotton cycling cap provides some protection, with the summit serving as a helpful gutter to direct rain from your eyes. Many clothing companies now make cycling caps from waterproof fabrics, which work brilliantly when it is raining really heavily, but breathability can suffer from some of them.

Another choice, and probably one that will appeal more to commuters and city cyclists, is a helmet cover. They are designed to fit right over the whole helmet with elastic holding it in place. They are usually covered with reflective details serve another purpose of helping you to stick out on the dark unlit roads.

The other option is one of the aero helmets with all of the air vents blocked in, or closeable vents, like the Bell Star I tested last year. Close the vents to keep cold air and rain outside.

5. Mudguards

Like or loathe them, mudguards are designed to protect you from road spray from the wheels, and can make a massive difference to preventing you getting soaked through. Mudguards have to be adopted for winter road biking, once you've tried them, you will never return.

You may get wet from the falling rain, but mudguards will prevent your feet, buttocks and legs getting a soaking when splashing through puddles. They also keep all of the mud and other road dirt off your bike and body, so you don't seem like you have been out mountain biking when you get home, covered from head to toe in sand.

Mudguards differ from simple plastic clip-on fenders, which offer limited protection but will fit any bike efficiently, to proper full-length mudguards. These offer the best protection, as they wrap considerably more of the wheel and monitor the front wheel when steering. Your bicycle will need mounts and adequate clearance between the tyre and frame to take them, however.

6. Glasses

It helps to have the ability to see where you're going, and when it's raining heavily and water is being sprayed up from the road, your vision can easily become, well a bit waterlogged.

A pair of cycling glasses with clear lenses are a really good way of shielding your eyes when biking in the rain. They also keep mud and grit from your eyes, especially handy if riding on a wheel. Some eyeglasses have interchangeable lenses and a yellowish tint may boost contrast in low light.

7. Be seen - fit some lights

Even when you're riding throughout the day, rainy weather can be accompanied by dark clouds  and low light levels, and that may mean restricted visibility.

A set of little blinking LED lights, either just a rear one of a front and rear set, can ensure that other road users stand a better chance of seeing you in cloudy weather.

8. Avoid punctures - change your tyres

Getting a puncture is not much fun but it's even less fun when the rain is pelting down to you. Swap your lightweight race tyres for  lasting tyres with a puncture belt and you will lessen the risk of getting a puncture.

You are more likely to puncture from the rain because debris gets washed out of the gutter to the road, and water acts as an astonishingly good lubricant for sharp flint and glasses to slice through a bicycle tyre. That's why I prefer to ride tubeless tyres throughout the winter.

Some tyres are created for the winter with a different rubber compound, intended to provide increased traction on wet roads. Ignore the tread pattern on a bicycle tyre, it makes no difference. Consider fitting the broadest possible tyre your bicycle will accommodate. It is possible to run lower pressures and benefit from a larger contact patch, raising the traction.

9. Head inside - get on the turbo trainer

Sometimes, even the most determined and committed cyclist can be put off going out for a ride when the rain is relentless and just shows no sign of easing off. Sometimes chanting Rule 5 just doesn't do it.

While you may not have the choice if you're commuting to work, if it is a training ride you've planned, then riding inside might be a fantastic choice. No, we don't mean doing laps of your living room. Do not be daft. A turbo trainer or rollers turns your bicycle to a static trainer and you can do a workout in the security and warmth of your home/garage/shed.

Got any suggestions we have missed?