Klaus Hargreeves Outfit Novels & Stories

Law and Order is considered educational, right? He smiles, his lopsided grin causing his small dimple to pop out. He runs a hand over the prickly stubble on his chin and my stomach flip-flops. Dressed in dark wash jeans and a short sleeve baby blue polo, there's nothing for me to do but laugh. Somehow Grant found a way into the club without the all-white attire. Even in the middle of a rave he's East Coast prep. "What are you doing here?" I yell pointing to the floor.

The morning was there before they knew it. Chad dressed in the mercenary robes that the Guard had presented them with, a splendidly tailored outer robe of the darkest brocade. Sky’s robe was no inferior: he wore a suit of dark blue, looking just as magnificent. Compared to the farmhand he was before, he appeared to shine.

“Gah, spill.” And that has lead us into this situation. Both Drew and I dressed in a simple yet elegant noble clothing, strolling around the streets of the dukedom while taking notes of literally everything as we feel thousands of eyes stare at us. It’s really a good thing that Drew has a way with disguises— even though it is a mystery on how he acquired such skill. For him, he was wearing a simple light green tail coat with a black and white striped corset and a white shirt underneath it. He also wore a black fitted pants and brown boots. In his neck were a necklace with a lavender pendant. He wore a black slicked back hair wig but retained his eye color.

She gestured to Khloe, then led everyone out. The door creaked shut, and the echo lingered in the air. "Come here." Henry turned slightly and beckoned to Khloe with an easy motion. She hesitated for a moment, then walked toward him. His hair was completely white, yet thick and lustrous, and his spirit was vigorous. He wore a dark blue, traditional-style long robe with a matching vest. On his hand were a top-grade emerald bracelet and thumb ring. He looked simple, yet unmistakably noble.

Mr. Y looked a lot more like the stereotype of a Man in Black than Mr. X ever had because he dressed more the part. He wore the suit and hat of a 1950’s G-man, as opposed to Mr. X, who, when he wasn’t disguised as a hospital orderly, had always worn Victorian era clothing. Mr. Y was even wearing dark sunglasses in the underground parking garage where they clearly weren’t needed. His skin was the same crayola white as Mr. X’s. He never smiled, though, not at all, whereas Mr. X smiled at every possible conversational opportunity. The two of them seemed very, very opposite from one another.

Killian is in his usual leather jacket and jeans, Claude in tailored pants and a dress shirt, and me in my usual all black ensemble. “You both couldn’t have tried to look the part, at least? Blend in?” Killian sighed, giving us both disappointing looks. “At least you look okay, just a little stuck up with that fifty thousand dollar watch. And you,” he motioned to Claude. “I don’t even have words. You are not blending in at all.” “I’m not here to cosplay anything.” I grumbled, running a finger over the cheap leather of the couch. Nothing in the world would make me sit on it. “And it’s a million dollar watch, asshole.”

"I'd feel a little safer knowing he's nearby." "I'm pretty sure I can protect you from my brother," Klaus complained, pulling her into a hug and making her laugh slightly. "I mean it, I won't allow anyone to hurt you ever again." "I know," she whispered, kissing the back of his hand. After that, Klaus had selected an elegant but modest blue dress that highlighted her brown eyes and matched perfectly with the suit he planned to wear. The dress was long and tight, in the form of a corset, which she had noticed seemed to be something that Klaus especially liked, as it accentuated her figure and lifted her breasts provocatively. Seeing herself in the mirror, Anika felt powerful, she definitely l

Looking at the ajar door that’s slowly opening, my heart pounded inside my chest, and everything went in a slow motion, especially when I fully saw Deacon’s appearance, making me stand up properly and pray that my jaw hadn’t dropped on the ground. There he was, standing in his majestic appearance. Gone were the warrior outfit and the long beard. He stood with dominance and confidence radiating around him, dressed in a midnight blue three-piece suit. His hair was combed in a neat but messy effect while his jawline was accentuated by the sharp angle of his regal clothing. By the way, his clothing fit him perfectly; it's my best guess that it’s bespoke for him. After feeling a discreet pinch on

anyone but— She heard the knock on the door. “Come on in, Professor,” Hargrove said. “I’d like you to meet someone.” She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. The clean, dark, and annoyingly intoxicating cologne she’d recognize anywhere filled her nose. Her pulse pounded in her throat. She turned around slowly. Professor Jason stepped inside fully, closing the door quietly behind him. He wore a charcoal suit today, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders, the tie a deep navy that matched the flecks in his eyes.

I whirl around, and the room tilts, time stopping in its tracks. Karl is standing in the doorway, his jacket in his hand. He’s still wearing the blue surgical mask to cover his face, but he’s no longer in his white chef’s uniform. He’s back in his plain clothes, his hair slightly disheveled from his tussle with the security guard, and a weary look in his eyes.