Masky X Hoodie Novels & Stories

"bhabi xavier gave this to wear and remember not under any circumstances you will take it off this was strict order by him .so please don,t remove not for a second." "mask?" "don,t worry its masquerade party everyone will be wearing a mask " he gave me a sliver mask it was so similar to my dress "  i wore the mask. justin also took out his mask and it was black . lucy and susan also wear the mask and it was red. we started moving inside the hall . None of the security stopped us for checking i guess they recognized justin . the door opened and their was large stairs which were going down everyone was downstairs enjoying the party .Their was loud music playing in the back ground . it was

"You're not seeing the big picture here. I'm not going to her as 'me'. I'm going to her as 'you'." Xander's brows furrowed in confusion for a second. I loved that look of uncertainty. It wouldn't last long, though, because soon he'd understand exactly what I meant. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the mask. It was smooth, flesh-coloured, and moulded perfectly to look just like Xander. I had it custom-made, every feature copied down to the last detail. It was going to be flawless. His eyes widened in shock as I held the mask up for him to see.

We let go of each other and I asked, "Won't it be weird if the both of us wear caps and masks on? And that too at a bar." "I'll take it off once we get there. You have to keep your beanie on though. Your hair will attract attention. My hair's black so I'll fit right in." He was wearing an open green hoodie over a grey V-neck T-shirt with black jeans. Save for the face, he really did look like a normal 23-year-old. "How long have you had that hoodie anyway?" I've seen it ever since the first day I met him as a trainee. It used to be rather loose on him back then. Now it fit him perfectly.

The black fabric blended seamlessly with his dark fur, rendering him nearly invisible in the shadows. Tara was nearby, similarly clad in a sleek black outfit. Her movements were quick and precise as she strapped on her gear. She pulled the hood over her head, tucking in her hair to ensure nothing would catch or snag. Like Claud, her outfit covered her completely, with only her sharp, keen eyes visible. She tested the fit of her gloves, flexing her fingers and making minor adjustments to her mask.

Still grumbling under my breath at how things are so unfair, I pulled the door to my walk in closet and just pulled whatever my hand has reached and went back to the bathroom. Opening up a drawer containing my lady necessities I pulled a bottled lotion squeezed some in my hands and spread it all over my body hastily. Don't judge me if I'm lazy. Grabbing a bottle of vaseline, I applied some in my lips and some aloe vera gel on my face. Now satisfied and slightly less angry, I put on my undies and my clothes. My five foot two frame is dressed in a white hoodie that says 'Send Noods' with a picture of a bowl of noodles in it and some ripped shorts.

Like she was empty of tears. "The mask was a gift from my mom, someone I thought I lost long before I lost my dad, I survived with an injury on my face that the doctors said would scar me. Everyone hated me after that, for taking away their alpha, for being weak and ugly." Lennox's hand came around her and held her close as she exposed more of herself. "The mask was a way of hiding my face so I don't disgust people but more than that it was what helped me stay close to my parents even when the wound was gone, I couldn't be without the mask."

I tried not to shutter, busying myself cleaning up the blood bags and storing them in a small cooler behind my desk. Reading my tentative thoughts around the status of her late friend’s son, she stood. “Ready to go?” ** I changed into dark sweatpants and a hoodie, pulling the strings taught around my face and tucking any loose strands of hair beneath the fabric. Mistra had dropped them off earlier today, torn from the depths of her closet. If this was going to work, I needed to be masked in Mistra’s scent–or rather, the scent of the forest–so as to remain untraceable.

"Freshen up, eat breakfast, then report back here in one hour." The crowd dispersed, students heading back to their cabins in small groups. Jason walked slowly, his injured ankle making each step careful and deliberate. Inside the cabin, he sat on his bed and stared at the small bottle of scent blocker in his hands. *I need more,* he thought, unscrewing the cap. *If I'm going to be running and sweating, I can't risk my scent getting through.* He doubled the usual dose, applying it to his neck, wrists, and anywhere else he might sweat. The liquid felt cold against his skin, and he tried to ignore the way his head spun slightly as he capped the bottle.

Finally, I dragged him back to the rooftop. Everyone at the scene gasped. It took them a while before they got over the shock and rushed over to secure the dazed patient. Even Kate had stopped crying. I wiped the blood off my hands and strode toward her. With my blood-stained hand, I slapped her hard across the face. I poured all of my anger and hatred for killing me in my last life into the slap. The force sent her staggering backward, nearly falling to the ground. Her meticulously styled hair was disheveled. The blood-stained slap mark on her face began swelling.

The sounds of cars driving by, and their horns interlaced with the cacophony of voices and footsteps created a background song to my self-declared movie. I lifted my head and gazed at the giant sign of the White-Angel company and a flood of warmth flowed in my stomach. —Today was day one of my revenge mission and I was very well prepared for it. I pushed back the Bayonetta glasses I had ordered over the weekend from A****n. They had been one of the basics for the office siren starter pack I had researched deeply on P*******t and which I had dressed accordingly. Over my pin-striped pencil skirt with the side front slit, I had worn a very tight-fitting white shirt which did not have any button