Jacksepticeye Hoodie Novels & Stories

I follow them, distracted by my stomach rumbling. “I’m starving,” I announce. “I’ve got something you can eat,” Cameron says, distracted. I stare at him, deadpan, and he glances over his shoulder and smirks. “Dirty bastard,” I mouth. He winks and keeps looking. “What about this?” he says as he takes a sweater from the shelf and holds it up. I look at it and my face falls in horror. It’s a black hoodie and has a large white eye on the front. The pupil is filled with bright colours. It’s a long, skinny fit.

He was so sweet, but I doubted that would help me much against a room of a thousand bloodthirsty eyes that shared a common goal of throwing the omega out. Sensing my unease, he stripped himself out of his grey hoodie and handed it to me. “Here. No shirt in sight.” I pulled the massive hoodie over my head. I could fit three other arms in the sleeves! I groaned, but it could actually work. I could have breakfast in peace. Hopefully.

Grandmother Haze placed a reassuring hand on his arm, her eyes sparkling with understanding. Finally, Collins Haze, a young man with an athletic build, chiseled features, and piercing icy blue eyes, joined them at the table. His sharp jawline and striking tattoo of a phoenix rising from the ashes on his left hand drew attention. He wore a tailored black suit, crisp white shirt, and silver tie shaped like a miniature phoenix, his style impeccable.

Sara asked, leading Evangeline and Victoria towards the dressing room. Meanwhile, in his dimly lit room, Aaron's eyes were fixed on his screen. His hand rested on his chin, his finger on a laptop, zooming in and out of the displayed image of a black hoodie. "Who's this person?" he murmured as he zoomed the logo of the hoodie, the symbol of J was designed by handmade. "J, what does that mean? I can't even guess." Then he clicked the next image of Evangeline, and a blurred-faced man wrapped in a tender embrace. "He is a Korean man. But how did this picture leak? It's not a coincidence; it's leaked on purpose. " He paused as Zoomed the blurred image.

As he says this, I pull my hand out from behind my back and I place the bag I had in my hand in front of him and I give him a look that says, ‘go ahead and open it. “What is this, Jo?” “You will have to open it to find out babe.” He carefully and skeptically pulls the bag closer to him and peers inside, but he can’t see anything with all the tissue paper covering it. So, he starts to pull the tissue paper out and then he reaches inside and pullout a shirt reading, “Future Alpha of Blue Ridge Pack” He looks between me, and the shirt and he give me a questioning look like he doesn’t fully understand why I gave him this shirt.

HJ, the underboss of America’s most ruthless mafia, wanted to play. And I couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across my face, because this side of him warmed something in me that had been cold for a very long time. “Pretty sure the thing that’s going to help me sleep at night is you getting me out of these zip ties.” I waved them in front of us. Towering over me, he crossed his arms in that black hoodie of his. “I don’t think I will.” “HJ!” I whined.

Jake slowly let me down, his hands lingering on my hips as I smoothed out my clothes. "I have to go," I said, my voice shaky. "Take the hoodie," he said, handing me the gray fleece. "Cover up. I don't want anyone else seeing what I just saw." I pulled the hoodie over my head. It was huge on me, reaching mid-thigh, and it smelled exactly like him. I felt a strange, electric buzz starting in my chest. "See you after school?" Jake asked, his hand on the door handle. "Maybe," I said, a small, knowing smile touching my lips.

he said, his eyes fixed on the logo. My heart suddenly began jumping in my chest. I stepped back, my hand flying to the hem of the garment. “What? No!” I needed this hoodie. It would help me through my heat. I didn't even have an Alpha—not even a cruel one like Raymond—to blunt the edge of the pain this time. “What? Do you plan on touching yourself while wearing that felon’s hoodie?” He sneered, stepping forward into the hallway, encroaching on my space. My heart dropped.

Standing in the doorway, dressed in a white hoodie and grey joggers, was Jaxson. Jaxson King. My high school bully.

a good woman in her own special way, who knows just how to deal with my tantrums, unlike my dad. I heaved a sigh at how frustrated my life would be without Ace. From my peripheral vision, I sighted a guy in a grey Blueberry imprinted hoodie on a pair of black ripped jeans. His hair must have been long because a little mop of platinum blonde hair kissed his shoulder blade despite the hood. The distance didn't benefit any further detailed examination of him. He had a peculiar way of staring at his surroundings as he did the expensive wristwatches concealed in a glass frame. Then, followed the rack of pretty expensive button-up shirts.