My second book in my imagines collection. With characters from all fandoms, ranging from Satoru Gojo to Violet Baudelaire, and more! (With stories for both male and female readers!)
Harley Quinn was pacing around her hideout like a caged tiger, her iconic mallet slung over her shoulder. Her mismatched pigtails swished with each frustrated turn as she muttered to herself.
"Seven days. SEVEN DAYS!" she hissed, slamming the mallet into a pile of empty pudding cups. "My puddin's got a lotta nerve ghostin' me like this! What, he's too busy takin' selfies with some other floozy? No call, no text, not even a lousy 'Hey Harls, miss ya!' I shoulda known better than to trust a guy who collects swords."
Her pout deepened. Of course, she knew Y/N wasn't like that. He was sweet, protective, and just the right amount of dangerous. The perfect mix of bad boy and knight in flaming armor. But Harley's insecurities were relentless, and her brain loved spinning the wildest scenarios.
"What if he's been kidnapped by Batman?" she gasped, gripping the edges of her blonde pigtails. "Or worse—what if he's tied up with some sultry sorceress? Oh, Harley girl, you're losin' your edge."
Well, she wasn't about to sit around and let her imagination ruin her day. If Y/N wasn't gonna come to her, she'd bring the fight to him. Literally.
Grinning wickedly, Harley grabbed her revolver, checked the ammo (painted with smiley faces, of course), and adjusted her corset. "Looks like it's time for ol' Harley to do a little boyfriend bustin'."
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Harley arrived at Y/N's apartment under the cover of night, though "subtle" wasn't exactly her style. Dressed in her red-and-black ensemble, she waltzed right up to his front door, gave it a quick once-over, and kicked it open with a dramatic flourish.
"Y/N, darling! Your lady love is here!" she called out, stepping inside. The apartment was surprisingly neat, save for the display of swords mounted on the walls and a faint scorch mark on the carpet—likely a result of his fire powers. "C'mon out, puddin', don't make me start pokin' around!"
As she wandered through the space, Harley's eyes landed on a notebook filled with sketches and diagrams of magical symbols. "Ugh, nerd stuff," she muttered, flipping through the pages. "What, is he buildin' a magical IKEA bookshelf or somethin'?"
Suddenly, a low hum filled the air, and a glowing portal opened in the middle of the living room. Out stepped Y/N, looking every bit the warrior she adored. His black-and-gold armour gleamed against the fiery backdrop of the portal, twin swords strapped to his back. The sight was enough to make Harley forget her anger—briefly.
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"Well, well, well," she drawled, tapping her gun against her shoulder. "Look who decided to show up. You got a lotta explainin' to do, hot stuff."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by her dramatic entrance. "Harls, why is my door busted? Again?"
