Sexy Harley Quinn Art Novels & Stories

Cade slipped off his jacket to hang up in his bedroom, but he took a step back when Quinn leaned forward to study the ink on his arms. “Sorry.” Quinn smiled at him. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Is that your work?” “Some,” Cade said, glancing at it indifferently. “I go to different artists to do the ink. I like their work. You like tattoos?” “I always have.” Quinn took off his own jacket and pushed up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal full sleeves of work. “Nice!” Cade leaned forward to study Quinn’s arms. “That’s Jack Booker, isn’t it?”

"This piece of art is beautiful," Hunter mentioned as his hand touched one of the paintings by the side. The woman in the painting was on her fours with her back arched low and her behind stretching upward to the thighs of the man behind her. Her face was filled with both pain and pleasure. It's so heavy on her that I felt it just by looking at her. And the one filled with so much passion and emotions was the one Hunter thinks is 'beautiful'. How dare he? "Which one is your favorite, Sheldon?" He asked pointing at them.

I roll out and shake my head at the force of her heal hitting the mat. "Don't hold back just because I'm a woman, I won't hesitate to end this fight the moment I can. Your queens are warriors and women, no one will hesitate to end them when they fight," Rayna taunts, Harley presses forward not liking what he is hearing from Rayna. “I hope you know what you’re doing taunting a lycan,” I chuckle, knowing if she gets him angry enough he will force the shift and try to tear her up.

His statement was enough to vanquish the mood. "Yeah, uh… so thing is," Quinn nervously fidgeted. "Cinder worked for the council." Harley instantly scurried towards me and I stood tall. The smaller man hid behind me, small hands gripping what was left of a dirt and blood caked shirt. "She what?" I was in absolute disbelief that this had somehow slipped past Alpha Ryder. Lycans vetted their mates extensively.

Silver affected all lycanthropes negatively, but with Dani, it was worse than usual. One of the men leaned down and removed the shirt that gave her a semblance of cover. The men gasped when they saw that every part of her body had painful red rashes. “What sort of eyesore is this?” One of the men asked, disgusted. Dani didn't reply, instead she asked a question of her own, ignoring the pain the silver was causing her, “Who are you people?” “We are the Lycan Annihilators. A secret order tasked with cleansing the world of evil lycanthropes.” One of the men announced proudly.

Alpha Anders Time went by too slowly. Grey wouldn’t stop talking about having dinner with Harley. Admittedly, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was funny, because on the surface, Harley wasn’t like any of the she-wolves I had dated or the ones that I was typically attracted to. And when I say on the surface, that was exactly what I meant. Probably stereotypical of me, but I had typically been attracted to tall, busty blondes. Harley was tall, but that was where it ended. She had long, black hair, similar to my own. Her eyes were the brightest blue, and I could only imagine that they would get even brighter as she actually started eating and being able to take care of herself. It seemed l

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.

Instead of drawing erotic scenes of us, I sketched exhibition layouts how Quarles could dialogue with a powerful Self piece, where negative space could create emotional tension. Damien watched me with dark, hungry eyes. “You’re different when you’re working on your own art,” he said quietly. “More alive. I like it.” I looked up at him, charcoal smudged on my fingers. “Elena wants to see my private sketches next week,” I told him. “The real ones. The messy ones.” A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. “Then show her who you really are, little one,” he murmured, pulling me onto his lap. “Show her the woman who rides Daddy’s cock while surrounded by millions in art. The one who draws s

"I'm beginning to think that you are a lesbian" "Bella just leave__". "Good morning class". I looked up to see I was interrupted by Harley Worth, remember her? The girl who almost ran me over. She sat on the teacher desk facing us. "Whats Harley Quinn up to?". Bella whispered. I snickered at that name. Harlequin. I don't blame Bella for calling Harley that because its true. Harley Worth is the perfect definition of hot, cool, sexy and crazy. She has outrageously shining glossy blonde which she dyed pink last summer.

No, Newhaven was a beast—hungry, oppressive, and impossible to escape. The graffiti etched into the walls added splashes of rebellion to the otherwise muted tones of the Human Quarters. Most of the symbols were crude: clenched fists, X’s slashed across drones, the occasional curse word scrawled with hurried defiance. But one design caught my eye. It was subtle yet intricate, a phoenix rising from a nest of gears, its wings half-erased by an Enforcer’s laziness or by someone bold enough to restore it after the purge. Its presence made my stomach twist, the sharp pang of something unspoken. I slowed my pace, my boots crunching against stray shards of broken glass and ash.