Red And Black Harley Quinn Shorts の小説・ストーリー

"Yes, that's what...." "We are here, people!" Harley yelled, shutting Xavier up and claiming everyone's attention. Harley and Giselle are standing close to the entrance door. Harley is in a short black leather skirt, black boots, lemon green crop top and black fur coat. Giselle has a long black coat covering her entire body. Her face is glittering with makeup and her hair in styled in a very beautiful way. Arabella got on her feet angrily and walked towards Xavier. They shared a look and looked back at Harley and Giselle.

I down the rest of my brandy, and turn to the vision and reason of everyone here, and she is more fucking beautiful than when she left me. Her body is encased with black leather pants, a thick belt that has three hunting knives in the grooves, and legs that go on for fucking ever are covered with a thick pair of riding boots that are an easy four grand. I take in her leather jacket, it's a dark gray and the hood is material. My frown comes when I get to her neck as she unzips her jacket, and it gets more prominent when she looks at the guy carrying who I guess is an unconscious Harley on his shoulder.

Instead, she strolled right into the room like she owned every single square inch of the property. She was absolutely stunning to look at, but it was a dangerous, sharp, and lived-in kind of beauty. She was tall, lean, and completely confident in her movements, with long, pitch-black hair that fell in wild, messy waves all the way down her back. She was wearing tight black leather pants that hugged her legs, a tight black tank top, and a cropped leather Reaper vest that had the name “Raven” embroidered in bright white letters across the front. She had dark tattoos covering both of her arms from her shoulders down to her wrists—vivid images of skulls, red roses, and sharp reaper scythes. She

Quinnel as hot as always, is dressed in a yellow t-shirt that looked cute as fuck on him if you ask me but my opinion probably doesn't matter. He paired it with a basketball shorts that was black in colour. Yellow and Black just goes with each other so much. Or maybe just on Quinnel. I moved my eyes to Zaire who was staring lazily at the flower on the table in front of us. He was dressed in a red hoodie that looked cute on him. Perks of being sexy. Every clothe fits you! Even if this dude and his best friend decide to appear in school dressed in trash bags, girls will still be swooned!

Also, her outfit— Oh. She is wearing tight black leather shorts and a red crop top that shows off her toned stomach. Her arms are covered in thin tattoos, spiraling up towards her shoulders. She looks like a model queen. Or a warrior. Or both. “Hi cutie,” she says cheerfully. “I brought you a little something.”

Those were the good old days when we didn’t have much to worry about. I stare at Harper’s outfit as she waited for the gate to close behind her. She was wearing an oversize black hoodie with the hood over her head. Her silky black hair cascaded down her sides. She also wore short black leggings and black Nike shoes. She looked as if I was picking her up for us to go on a heist. She pulls the door of my car open and tosses her black bag onto the back before getting in and putting on her seatbelt. She didn’t even spare me one glance.

I say flashing her a wide smile. If a glare could kill someone, I would be dead. Adalina huffs loudly as she yanks the shirt up and off her body, throwing it across the room, revealing that sexy red lace bra, and those short black shorts from earlier. Holy fuck she is sexy as hell. Red is definitely her color.

She's left with shorts underneath. Morien collects it too.

I dropped into my chair and waved off my wolves as they tried to rise. “Good of you to show up,” said my Beta, Harley, with a snort. She was a tomboy, her black hair cropped short and her ears glinting with multiple silver piercings. It still seemed odd to see her with her natural hair colour – back before the Eternal Winter, before our trade with the other packs had dried up, she’d dyed her hair pastel pink. Tattoos inked her whole body, with the words love and hate across each set of knuckles respectively. She flexed the hand with hate on and smirked up at me.

"I'm Neneuis, nice to finally meet you, Harriet." I stared at her offered hand with my mouth slightly open. She's the girl; she wore a black tennis skirt, cropped long-sleeve black shirt with a red tie, black manicured hands, black biker pumps with a thigh belt, her hair was black and was in a boyish cut, her filled dark eyeshadow cat eyes and black lips screamed memento mori: She's the kind of girl that stare right into your eyes and remind you that you must die.