Be A Decent Human Hoodie Novels & Stories

A wave of gratitude washed over me, silently thanking Carla for her dedication to keeping my wardrobe in order. It was a testament to her meticulousness and attention to detail. Among the various options, my eyes were drawn to a delightful two-piece ensemble—a matching hoodie and joggers. The soft fabric and relaxed fit instantly appealed to my desire for comfort. With anticipation bubbling inside me, I reached out and delicately plucked the outfit from its hanger. As I held the hoodie and joggers close to my chest, I could already feel their warmth and coziness enveloping me. The fabric was incredibly soft to the touch, promising a soothing embrace against my skin.

His hoodie landed on my lap, making me cringe a bit. "Put it on." I looked at him nervously. He has a white sweatshirt on and a golden chain. I looked at the hoodie, picking it up and feeling the unique texture and weight. I put it on as his scent on the hoodie filled my nose. I raised my body a bit and let the hoodie drop. It covered my lap a bit. The hoodie is oversized. Almost like it ceased my tiny body. I covered my head with the hoodie, taking in his scent.

Finally, they stopped at her door, and I heard the lock disengage. I was sitting cross-legged on the bed in her oversized hoodie, the sleeves swallowing my hands. This was not a women’s hoodie. I design clothes, and I know the difference between something intended for a woman and something designed for a man. This was a man’s hoodie. Maybe Makayla just liked it enough to buy it from the men’s side of a store since I at least knew it didn’t belong to an ex-boyfriend. The fabric still smelled like her skin—warm and electric, edged with cedar and storm—and I’d clung to it like a lifeline while she was gone. Pockets stirred from his spot beside me, ears twitching, tail giving one hopeful thump a

," I replied, the concern in my voice expressing a care that transcended the night. As he stepped back and got into his car, I couldn't help but watch until the taillights faded into the distance, carrying with them the echoes of a night spent under the stars. That night, in the comforting embrace of Logan's hoodie, I found solace. The scent of his presence lingered, wrapping around me like a familiar warmth. As I settled into sleep, the soft fabric carried with it a sense of security, and in that moment, his absence was subtly replaced by the tangible reminder of his closeness. The hoodie became more than just an article of clothing; it became a silent connection to the man whose gestures a

The hoodie, a shield against prying eyes, symbolized not only concealment but also the indomitable spirit of those who dared to challenge the oppressive rule. In the deepest part of the night, as the city held its breath, Maximus emerged from the shadows, standing at the precipice of a revolution. The black hoodie, now worn with a sense of purpose, marked the beginning of a chapter where one man's defiance would collide with the might of a tyrant's empire.

Vivienne was curled up in Knox’s hoodie. A new one, not the worn and torn piece of comfort she’d clung to for the past year. That one was still safe in her drawer, of course. No way was she letting him throw it out. But this hoodie was soft, still fluffy on the inside, and it smelled like him. Fresh and familiar. Perfect. And the fact that she now had access to an unlimited supply of these made her a little giddy.

Funny looks over to me doing it, unzips his hoodie, and hands it over to me. “Put this on,” he says more of a demand than a gesture. “Thank you,” I say politely and put it on. The hoodie smells amazing, it’s an intoxicating smell even though it’s got a touch of marijuana traced into it. I look over at Funny whose attention is back on the ocean and now without his hoodie on, I get a much better view of his body. He is incredibly toned, like he works out often but not overly muscular, just the perfect amount. Full-sleeve tattoos cover both arms and I can’t quite make out any of them at a glance. He has an absolutely gorgeous body with an even more incredible face and I can’t help but stare kno

Then JP goes to my backpack and unzips it. “What are you doing?” I ask. “I said I like their… how do you say it?” He makes a pantomime of flipping something over his head. A couple of the kids are wearing jackets with hoods. “Hoodies?” I ask. “Hoodies, yes. And I offer to buy them.” “I need something more than a hoodie,” I say. “A hoodie’s not going to go well with a skirt and heels.” “Yes, yes,” he says impatiently. “I offer to buy the small one’s clothes as well.”

I stared down at myself, My curves stubbornly refused to cooperate. The hoodie hid some of them, obviously Not enough. I sighed dramatically… "This is the best we're getting." The hoodie smelled faintly familiar, Coffee, Soap And something annoyingly expensive… Kaizen's hoodie. I have refused to wash it since he gave me…. Somehow I love his scent. The same one he'd given me weeks ago when I'd been freezing, the memory made me scowl. Focus, Mission first….Annoying boy later. ***** At exactly Nine thirty pm, the penthouse became quiet…

His hoodie smells like the way Aiden smells, which is cedar and hospital soap and the smell of a man who is in love with a woman and is not going to pretend he is not. I put my face in his hoodie. I put my face in the fabric of a man who has just called HR and PR and told them the entire world, in a way that is the entire world. We are going to get in trouble, I mumble into his hoodie. Probably, he says. His voice is the voice of a man whose chest is rumbling against my face, in the way that chests do when they are talking, in the way that is the entire thing. Worth it.