#Harley Quinn fluff

[fandomnerd9602]

Y/N puts an arm around Harley…

Harley: we did it Puddin!!

Y/N: we saved Christmas

Bloodsport: you idiots almost destroyed Christmas!!

Harley: but then we saved it!!

Harley giggles as the two walk away…

[froggibus]

First off anon ask! (We'll see how often this happens qq) been having some AWFUL cramps and saw your reqs opened for DC hurt/comfort stuff and I know you've got a LOT on your plate so please take your time but if you're up to write Harley Quinn Hcs with an s/o who kinda like.. bottles everything up until it's literally the smallest thing is the last straw? (I'm so not projecting ((also fr take your time, you deserve rest)))

Burn Out - Harley Quinn

Pairing: Harley Quinn x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

Summary: your girlfriend tries to comfort you after a particularly bad week

CW: established relationship, stress, burn out, violence, reader has nondescript stomach cramps, typical harley chaos, possibly ooc (its been so long since i read/watched anything with her in it :,)

hey wren! thanks so much for sending this req in (& I hope you’re feeling better now ^^) your ideas are always so fun to write and so creative 💓💓 you always bring me so much comfort so hopefully i can do the same for you ^.^

Harley can definitely tell when something starts to bother you

she was a psychiatrist, give her some credit here

when she notices you getting a stressed out or down on yourself, she’ll prompt you the best she can to talk about it

of course when you wave her off with a smile and insist it’s fine, she doesn’t argue

that doesn’t stop her from noticing the tension in your shoulders and the way you grit your teeth at every minor inconvenience

even things that don’t usually bother you get on your nerves (like the insane amount of glitter she leaves in her wake)

she tries to ease your tension with silly jokes, and if that doesn’t work, she’ll do a more hands on approach

(read: violence)

the final straw is when you’re already having a really bad day and then your stomach has the audacity to start hurting

Harley comes home from…whatever it is she does & sees you curled up in a ball half-dead

she jumps into action so quickly you’d almost think Supes was in the room

totally legally acquires you your fave dinner & snacks

brings you your dinner in bed & sits with you, rubbing slow circles on your back while you eat

pulls out some old tricks from her psych days to try and get you to let it all out

you break down crying in her arms ranting about the silliest (but valid) thing

“I’m so stressed and my cramps are so bad and I haven’t been sleeping well and—”

she’s the queen of reassurance

she’ll hold you in her arms & draw little shapes on your back with her fingers, rubbing your head until your sobs start to slow

once you’ve thoroughly gotten it out of your system, she’s planting you on the couch with a pint of ice cream & putting on your favorite movies

meanwhile she’s calling your work & telling them you won’t be coming in tomorrow (and if they have a problem with it, she’ll settle it hands on)

masterlist | dc masterlist

if you like content like this, interactions go a long way! likes, comments & reblogs are always appreciated ^^

[amphibiahawks321]

Harley : Sooooooo, is it just me or did you become hotter the last time I met cha?~

M!Reader : Harley....

Harley : I could just eatcha up y'know, the way you look right now makes me wanna drizzle you in chocolate, roll ya in sprinkles–

M!Reader : Harley...

Harley : Oh and trust me, I don't need any spoons and forks to eat that up, my mouth would be doing all the work~—

M!Reader : Harley... You are LITERALLY in prison right now and you are currently doing your phone time...

[Shows Y/N sitting on a chair Infront of Harley wearing a orange prison jumpsuit who is behind a glass window, both communicating using wall phones]

Harley : Yeaaaah? So what of it, it's not like I'm gonna be here for a long time I just did some minor damage–

M!Reader : Harley you broke someone's knee caps...

Harley : oh to be fair sugar he was making fun of ya—

[Y/N covering his face with his hand, blushing]

M!Reader blushing : Why are you like this...

Harley : Because, sugar pie, life's too short to not defend the ones ya love~

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

The Wildcard!

pairings ⸺ Mother! Harley Quinn x Child! Reader.

(PLATONIC FIC)

¿Request? Yes!

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ Being a kid raised under the Joker’s wing isn’t exactly what anyone imagines when they talk about a "good childhood." I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna get bedtime stories when your father figure is a psychopathic clown, right? Although, now that I think about it, he probably did tell you stories before bed—just that his versions ended with explosions and maniacal laughter instead of happy endings. You never really know with him.

But, hey! There was always mom Harley. And while she wasn’t exactly the classic model of a devoted mother, Harley definitely had her moments. Those times when she’d look at you with those big, wide eyes and promise she’d protect you from everything, even from herself. And that says a lot, considering that sometimes even she didn’t know who she needed to protect herself from.

warnings ⸺ Fluff and Angst, Platonic Cuddling, ¿OOC Harley? Idk, Disturbing Content, Street Fights, Violence, Blood, Trauma, Phobias.

Guide! Pt.2

A/N ── Yes, damn it, yes! My first request! Thank you so much, really, thank you! No need to clap, I’ll get all blushy uwu. I put all my love and care into this. Hope you enjoy it to the fullest!

In reality, you were not her biological child. She knew that very well, and moreover, she knew that Mr. J would never want a child with her. In fact, it had never been part of the plan. "Kids are a hassle" the Joker would say, with that shrill laugh that coursed through his body like an electric shock. And Harley, well, she didn't exactly want a baby either. Until she found you.

Harley found you among the rubble, covered in blood, although it wasn't yours (at least that's what she hoped). You couldn't have been more than five months old, and there was no trace of your mother. At that moment, her intentions weren't exactly maternal, but what could you expect from a criminal at 2 AM? However, something in your little eyes disarmed her. You were small, defenseless, and upon seeing you… well, she simply couldn't resist.

Thus began your life with Harley Quinn. It wasn't the most typical childhood, that's for sure. Mr. J saw it as just one of his whims, and as long as you didn't cry and stayed out of his business, you were welcome. According to him, it was easier to raise a little clown from childhood.

To begin with, your toys were not exactly "age-appropriate." Mr. J had a fixation with explosives, so more than once you found yourself playing with what you hoped was an innocent candy box, only for Harley to shout from across the room: "Honey, no! That's not a toy, it's dynamite! Give me that!"

Ah, motherhood. A tough job, yes, but also something Harley never thought would come to her in such an… unexpected way. In her former life, when she was still Dr. Quinzel, she envisioned a normal existence, perhaps with a good job that would provide stability. But well, one thing led to another, and there she was, raising a baby who wasn't biologically hers, but whom life —and Gotham— had placed in her arms. And although her life with the Joker was total chaos, she always made sure of one thing: that you were safe.

In her twisted way of seeing the world, Harley protected you even from him, from Mr. J himself. She knew how unpredictable the Joker could be, so she did everything possible to make sure you were never in the same room for too long. And even though it sometimes seemed like the Joker didn't even notice your existence, Harley made sure to keep that distance. "I want you to be different" she would tell you while fixing your hair with a smile, "I don't want you to end up fistfighting with Batman like mommy."

Harley loved playing with you, especially at being doctors. There was something almost nostalgic for her in that, as if every time she saw you healing your dolls, a small part of the old Dr. Quinzel awakened within her. She loved seeing you with your toy stethoscope, focused as if you were in the middle of a serious operation.

"Mom! Miss JeanieBeanie had a broken heart, and I healed her with words! Just like you told me." Harley smiled, that big, bright smile that only she could make, and although she always tried to maintain the toughness of her persona, she couldn't help but let a tear escape. "Ah, sweetie, you're a genius."

And then, of course, there was the topic of school. You couldn't attend school known as the Joker's kid, that was for sure. So with a little colorful dye, a lot of makeup in the morning, and some nice clothes, Harley would take you to school incognito, as if you were a completely normal child. At least, she tried to make you seem that way. The first days were a disaster, though.

It wasn't that Harley didn't trust the school's safety, but, of course, being the Joker's Queen left her paranoid. So there she was, lurking around the windows of your classes, hiding behind bushes, trying to ensure that no madman would come in with a Kalashnikov to disrupt your school life. Sure, she was kicked out most of the time, but she always returned. Harley always returned.

Sometimes, when she couldn't see you during recess, she'd send you hidden messages in your lunchbox, with little doodles and silly jokes that made you laugh out loud. She worried a lot about you not making friends. "Remember, sweetie, if any kid bothers you, just smile like me and show them who's boss. But don't hit them, okay? Save that for later."

When the Joker finally broke up with her, it was a disaster, like a train derailing in slow motion. But just like with everything else, Harley made sure that the blow didn't fall on you. She never let Mr. J's chaos reach you because you were her priority, her sweetie. So, holding her hand, you left with her without looking back, with her suitcase in one hand and a bat in the other.

Since then, life became a bit more complicated, but also freer. Harley and you had to make do by stealing to survive, moving from place to place until ending up in a small apartment in Gotham's Chinatown. It wasn't the best area, but hey, it had charm. There, the nights were long, the walls thin, and the sounds of street fights mixed with your laughter while you tried to do homework and Harley gave you "life advice" that included how to escape from the police in style.

"Do you know what's faster than a bullet?" she'd say while looking at your face painted in bright colors before running off with a stolen shopping cart. "You, with the right attitude!"

Harley let herself go with alcohol during some tough times, but she always kept you away from that dark side. Sure, she bought a hyena and named it Bruce, which was simply hilarious. Bruce, like that perfect man on the magazine covers that you both secretly adored. "Bruce, come here, let's go for a walk!" you'd hear her shout down the street, and the neighbors wouldn't even blink. It was Gotham, after all.

By then, you were almost done with school. Amid the chaos of your life, you made a friend... Damian something (Wayan or something like that, you were bad with names). He wasn't the friendliest person in the world; in fact, "brat" would be a kind description, but for some reason, he intrigued you. "Mom says that if a boy or girl seems cute to you, you should go for it!" you told him once, repeating Harley's wise advice. Of course, Damian just looked at you like you were the weirdest thing he'd ever seen (and mind you, he had seen weird things; he's 'friends' with the nerd Jon). And although he maintained his air of arrogance, you found him adorable in a way that even he didn't understand.

Some nights, Harley and you would just lie on the rooftop of some building, looking at the lights of Gotham. With bags of marshmallows stolen from a grocery store, you'd roast them with a lighter while she told you stories. But not normal stories, rather ones involving car chases and explosions. No princesses and castles, more like villains and spectacular escapes. Sometimes, Selina Kyle would join in. "It's easier than you think" she'd say, winking at you while showing you how to sneak into a museum without setting off the alarms. It was never a typical childhood, but it sure was entertaining.

When Harley joined (temporarily) the Birds of Prey, things started to improve a little. You had more people around you, like a dysfunctional family you didn't know you needed. The girls tried to be a good influence, although with Harley, that was always relative. But at least there were fewer explosions and more quiet nights; just that "quiet" in Harley's terms meant motorcycle races, sporadic thefts, and bar fights. Pure fun!

And occasionally, Ivy, her "friend," would come to visit them. You thought she was amazing, so elegant, so calm... You knew there was something more there. "Kiss already!" you shouted at them once, laughing, watching how Harley blushed slightly while Ivy rolled her eyes with a smile.

But despite everything, Harley never stopped being an incredible mom, in her own way. On the toughest nights, when you'd curl up in her lap after a long day, she'd stroke your hair and whisper, "You know, sweetie, I never thought I'd be a mom, but you're the best thing that ever happened to me." And although it wasn't a typical motherhood, there was something comforting in knowing that amidst all that chaos, you could always count on her.

So, amid thefts, stolen marshmallows, and moments filled with love, Harley gave you a childhood that wasn’t normal, but was filled with adventures, laughter, and unconditional love. And what more could you ask for when you have Harley Quinn as your mom?

A/N ─── My first request uwu~ I’m so excited! I really hope I did it well, and that you all like this little headcanon. I put all my love into it, so if you have more ideas or want to request something, don’t hesitate! I’m here for whatever you need.

Take a bath!

[gothamite-rambler]

Talia: Okay, if I had Damian in the spring and it’s winter now… I forgot his birthday, didn’t I?

Harley (holding a teacup): Yeah, he said he’s used to it.

Talia (panicked): Oh my God! Quick, what do boys like? Fisher-Price is still a thing, right?

Harley (flatly): Tali, he turned twelve.

Talia (lamenting): I thought he was nine! Okay, I can work with this. I’ll call Bruce—no, no, he’ll be upset that I forgot his birthday and think I don’t care. But I do care! He’s my tifl. I spent thirty-six hours pushing him out of my body! My mind just gets foggy at times.

Harley: Talia.

Talia: If I had remembered, trust me, I’d throw him a party! Plus, I’m a busy woman. I am a businesswoman before I’m a fighter. That’s not me excusing my actions, though. Don’t say it is!

Harley (repeating herself): Talia?

Talia: I need to give him something good—

Harley (raising her voice): TALIA!

Talia (annoyed): What?!

Harley (passing Talia her phone, which is open to the Amazon app): What you see is his wishlist. That’s the stuff he wants as gifts. You don’t have to buy everything, just one or two items.

Talia: Oh bless you, Harley! Huh, he has a lot of books in here. I shall buy them all!

Talia pulled out her phone and began adding every book she saw on his wishlist to her Amazon cart. Harley shrugged, sipping her tea.

Two weeks later, Damian received numerous packages from Amazon filled with the books he had been hoping to get. He blinked, unsure of how to react. But what stood out the most was that Talia had also bought him the ship Lego set he wanted.

Damian: Hm… She really went through my wishlist for this. If she got the notification that the packages were delivered, she should be calling any second now.

His phone rang two seconds later, right on cue. He answered with reluctance.

Damian: Don't speak yet. I just wanted to say thank you for the gifts. Now you can react.

Talia (sweetly): I get you the best because you’re my precious twelve-year-old, and I knew you turned that age, but it’s been crazy busy dealing with business and my father.

Ra's: Hey!

Damian (small smile): Mm-hm, thanks anyways, Mother. I… love you.

Talia: I love you too!

[strange-birb]

Quick Harley :) cuz I was watching the show and I love her

❤️

[confused-wanderer]

Incorrect batfam quotes as things I’ve heard as a college student that definitely fit them:

—

Dick: Stop copying me!

Jason: StOp CoPyInG mE!

Dick: Oh my god you’re so annoying

Jason: oh my god you’re so annoying

Dick: I love you

Jason:

Dick: Say it bro

Jason: *booking it to the door*

Dick : SAY IT BACK MOTHERFUCK-

—

Barbara: .. wait I’m lost now

Stephanie: Girl I’ve been lost a long time ago

—

*while the batboys are doing laundry*

Dick: .. hey Jason?

Jason: yeah?

Dick: I put money and my clothes in the washing machine but it won’t start. Could you try?

Jason *stares at it and gently pries the door open before slamming it shut with such force that it swings open again*

Dick: DONT BREAK IT I PAID FOR THIS MAN

Jason: Hold on lemme try some- *swings harder*

Tim: WHAT ARE YOU DOING IDIOT ??

Washer *beeps and starts washing*

—

Duke: ah.. such a peaceful day and gorgeous vie-

*hears screaming in the distance*

Duke: Aaand we’re walking-

—

Tim: I’m sorry but could you tell me how to spell your name? I’m trying to save your contact.

Damian: It doesn’t matter.

Tim: Of course it does! I just want to make sure I spell it right.

Damian: No, seriously. It doesn’t matter how you spell it. That’s not even my real name.

—

Jason and Damian having breakfast in silence at a restaurant

Damian: so I have a knife in my room.

—

Bruce: And there’s this girl in the bathroom who’s been crying there for hours! And I don’t even know who it is, I can just see her shoes

Selina : Wait let’s check it out

Bruce: .. isn’t that an invasion of her privacy?

Selina: you’re no fun… I wonder what’s going on

Bruce: well she was talking to her friend about *insert very oddly specific rant about every microscopic detail*

Selina:

Bruce: ? What?

Selina: ..and youre trashing me for tryna find out who it is.

Bruce: Hey I was debating if I should call out and ask her if she was okay

Selina: Mhmm. Nosy. Imma go check-

Bruce: I have to fill my bottle anyways so I guess I’ll join..

— later —

Harley: and then what happened?

Selina: This mf was waiting for me outside while I found out and then I shooed him away to fill his bottle. And then we both watched as he placed it under the tap only for it to immediately start overflowing

Harley *howling with laughter*

Bruce: IT WAS HALF- EMPTY

Selina: It was FULL

Bruce: ..you’re exaggerating

Selina: Girl be for real you’re just as nosy as I am, that’s why we get along so well~

———————————————————————-

[yanderejustforyou]

Madness Really

Oswald Cobb x Reader

Oswald Cobblepot had never been one to show his emotions. He had been hardened by a cruel world, shaped by pain and betrayal from an early age. His exterior was a mask, an impenetrable wall of arrogance, sharp wit, and cold, calculated malice. But behind that mask was something else—something softer, something more vulnerable. And it was that vulnerability that would destroy him.

The meeting with Oswald felt less like chance and more like the universe itself had deliberately orchestrated it. It wasn't a casual encounter at a coffee shop, or a shared glance across a crowded room. It was a collision, a sudden, irreversible shift in your trajectory. You, living your quiet, ordinary life, never imagined venturing into the shadowed alleyways and opulent dens of depravity that defined his world. A world where the air felt thick with unspoken threats, where whispered deals replaced polite conversation, and every sunrise seemed to paint the streets with the residue of the previous night's violence. Yet, somehow, you found yourself drawn into his orbit, a moth irresistibly pulled toward a flickering, dangerous flame. It wasn't love at first sight, not in the traditional sense. It was something far more complex, a magnetic pull born of recognition. You saw, beneath the gruff exterior and the calculating gaze, a profound brokenness. You saw the cracks in his carefully constructed facade, the remnants of a soul that had been battered and bruised by the harsh realities he had endured. And in that brokenness, you glimpsed a reflection of your own vulnerabilities, a shared understanding that transcended words. You couldn't just walk away. You found yourself compelled, almost against your will, to sift through the layers of anger and ambition, to find the buried pieces of the man he once was, the man you believed could still be.

But even in those early days, as you explored the labyrinth of his personality, you were shadowed by a chilling understanding. You knew that a man like Oswald Cobblepot—a man who had clawed his way up from the depths of despair, who had been betrayed and abandoned by those he had trusted, who had tasted the bitterness of injustice time and time again—was fated to a life of perpetual struggle. He yearned for peace, for a sanctuary from the relentless battles he fought every day, but you knew it was a yearning that would forever remain unfulfilled. Loving him, you realized with a sinking heart, was an act of self-condemnation. It was like stepping onto a path of thorns, knowing full well where it would lead, yet unable to resist the allure of the rose at its center. You had bound yourself to his destiny, and there was no turning back.

When his mother, his last anchor to the gentler parts of his past, died, it was as if the very foundations of his world had crumbled beneath his feet. The light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a storm of grief so intense that it threatened to consume him.

You could see it in his eyes. There was nothing there, no glimmer of the usual sharp intelligence, no quick wit or dark humor. Oswald Cobblepot was a man who had always fought for control, always strived to stay one step ahead, but in that moment, it was clear that even he couldn’t control the storm raging inside of him. His mother had been the one constant in his life, the one person who had cared for him in the way that only a mother could. She was gone, and with her, a piece of him died, too.

“Do you understand, (Y/N)?” he asked, his voice shaking. The coldness in his eyes was gone now, replaced by something far more dangerous—raw, unfiltered pain. “She’s gone. And I… I’m alone.”

The words cut through you like a blade. You had never seen him so exposed, so vulnerable. For a moment, it felt like the wall he had built between the two of you—between himself and everyone—was cracking, and you could almost see the person beneath all the layers of anger and resentment.

But even in that moment of weakness, you knew better than to think he would let you in.

You reached out to him, but he recoiled. The pain was too much. The fear that anyone could get close enough to hurt him, to take something else from him, was too deep. The walls he had spent a lifetime building slammed back into place, stronger than before, and you were left standing there, desperate and broken.

“I tried to do everything right. I tried to make her proud,” Oswald’s voice cracked. He stumbled backward, his hand gripping the back of a chair like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. “But it’s never enough. Never. She’s dead, and I still can’t fix it. It’s never enough, is it?”

The tears that had threatened to fall for so long finally spilled from his eyes. You’d never seen him cry—not in all the time you’d known him. But there it was, the most vulnerable moment he would ever give you, the most raw, broken piece of himself. And you wanted to comfort him. You wanted to reach out and take away his pain. But you couldn't.

Because you understood the cost. You understood that even for a touch, even for the slightest moment of connection, there would be consequences. With Oswald Cobblepot, you could never have happiness. You could never have peace. Not when he was so determined to burn everything to the ground.

The days that followed his mother's funeral were a maelstrom of raw, unchecked emotion. It was as if the very fabric of Oswald's being had been torn, leaving behind jagged edges of fury and a bitter resentment that seemed to cling to everything he touched. He moved through the world like a wounded animal, snarling at any attempt at connection, retreating further and further into the solitude he seemed determined to forge. He became a ghost in his own life, his presence a heavy silence that suffocated the space around him. And you, who had shared laughter and whispered secrets with him, found yourself on the outside, gazing in at a stranger. You were left with the hollow ache of what was, and the painful recognition of what was quickly becoming.

The distance between you was not a physical thing, but a vast, icy chasm that widened with each passing day. Every unanswered question, every averted gaze, every sharp word delivered like a blow, contributed to the growing divide. You could feel its chilling tendrils wrap around your heart, squeezing the hope from your chest. You were desperate to reach him, to tear down the walls he was so meticulously building. You yearned to drag him back from the abyss of grief and despair that threatened to consume him. You had seen the light in him, however flickering, and now you watched, helpless, as it threatened to be extinguished. The thought of him disappearing into the darkness, swallowed whole, tore at you with a sharp, possessive grief.

But a grim understanding settled in your bones, cold and heavy as lead. You knew the stories. You had heard whispers of the Cobblepot family's tragic history, of the curse that seemed to cling to their lineage. You had watched Oswald navigate a world that seemed designed to break him. You knew, with a stark certainty that mirrored the unwavering despair in his eyes, that Oswald Cobblepot was a man destined for tragedy. His arc, you realized with a chilling finality, was not bent towards joy but towards a slow, agonizing decline. And as much as your heart ached, as much as you longed to be his lifeline, you knew that reaching for him in his despair was akin to grabbing a drowning man. You wouldn't pull him to safety; you’d only find yourself pulled under by the undertow of his sorrow. You would be dragged down, swallowed whole by the darkness, leaving two souls lost instead of one. The realization was a cruel truth, a bitter pill to swallow, but the hard-won wisdom of survival wouldn’t let you ignore it.

It happened on one of those nights when the weight of the world seemed to rest on Oswald’s shoulders. You found him standing in front of a window, looking out over Gotham, his posture stiff, like he was trying to hold himself together.

“Oswald,” you whispered, hesitant, like stepping into the room might shatter the fragile moment between you.

He turned to face you, his face unreadable, but his eyes—those eyes—told you everything. The pain was still there, raw and bleeding, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, you could see it. You could feel it.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, knowing there was nothing you could do. “I wish I could make this better.”

Oswald’s lips curled into a bitter, mocking smile. “Make it better?” he echoed, his voice laced with sarcasm and something darker. “You can’t make this better, (Y/N). This is who I am. This is all I’ll ever be.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, but you didn’t back down. You never did.

“You don’t have to be this way,” you said, your voice faltering. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

But he shook his head, his eyes hardening. “I never asked for your pity, (Y/N),” he spat, taking a step closer to you, his face inches from yours. “You think I need you? You think I can let you in and make this better? Look at me.” He motioned to himself, his voice rising with anger. “I’m a monster. And I will destroy everything in my path, including you, if I have to.”

You could feel his pain, his grief. It consumed him, and you knew that he was right. He would destroy everything in his path, because that was all he knew how to do. He had been abandoned, betrayed, and now, all he had left was the cold, suffocating need for power.

And you. You were just another casualty in his war against the world.

The inevitability had hung over you like a leaden sky, a constant, oppressive weight you’d grown accustomed to carrying. You had known, deep down, that this day, this devastating moment, was lurking around the corner. Yet, knowing didn't lessen the impact. It still crushed you, the wind being knocked out of your soul, leaving you gasping for air in the vacuum of a shattered hope.

The argument, the final, agonizing battle, had erupted in the suffocating stillness of the night. Not the kind of disagreement that could be smoothed over with apologies and understanding, but a brutal, vicious fight that tore at the fabric of your relationship, leaving both of you bleeding and broken on the battlefield of your love. He had unleashed a torrent of anger – yelling that vibrated within the very walls of your home, screams that tore at your eardrums, objects flung with reckless abandon, each one a physical manifestation of the turmoil raging within him. Every outburst, every cruel word felt like a sharp, jagged stone hurled directly at your heart. But beneath the surface of his rage, you saw the truth, as clear as a reflection in a still pond. He wasn’t just angry; he was petrified. His terror was a palpable thing, a suffocating fog clinging to him. The loss of his mother, a wound that clearly hadn’t healed, had fractured him, leaving him a fragile, terrified creature. He was terrified of the connection you two shared, the deep, abiding love that had blossomed between you. He feared the vulnerability that came with caring, the raw exposure of his heart. In his twisted logic, feeling something so profoundly for someone meant leaving himself open to the possibility of being utterly and irrevocably destroyed, a fate he clearly couldn't bear to risk again.

"I never wanted this!" The words ripped through the tense air, his voice cracking with the weight of his confession, the carefully constructed mask of anger slipping, though only for a fleeting instant, revealing the raw, wounded soul beneath. "I never wanted to care about you, (Y/N). I never wanted to need you.” His words, laced with a desperate kind of pain and fear, were like daggers twisting in your heart. The declaration, the honesty behind it, was a devastating blow, a confirmation of the darkness that had taken root within him.

Your instinct was to reach out, to wrap your arms around him, to pull him close to your chest and soothe the tremors wracking his body. You wanted to whisper words of comfort, to assure him that everything would eventually be alright, that you could navigate this storm together, that it didn’t have to end like this. But the cold, hard truth settled upon you, like a shroud. You knew, with a certainty that chilled you to the bone, that words wouldn’t mend this brokenness.

It would never be okay. Not really. Not for him, and certainly not for you. His heart, so deeply wounded, so completely shattered by grief and fear, was beyond repair, beyond any hope of healing. And with a horrifying clarity, you realized that your own heart, bound to his so tightly, was destined to follow him into the desolate, burning ashes of his pain. You were already burning, feeling the heat of his despair, knowing the fire would consume you both. The connection, once the source of so much joy, was now the tether that would drag you down. You were inextricably linked, and his destruction would be yours as well.

In the end, it wasn’t the world that destroyed Oswald Cobblepot—it was himself. And it wasn’t your love that tore you apart, but the knowledge that no matter how much you cared for him, no matter how much you wanted to save him from the darkness, there was nothing you could do. You were both destined to suffer, to burn for each other, and in the end, to lose everything.

Because there was no happy ending for you.

There could never be.

[roselynnthornwood]

Author IG: roselynnthornwood_author

Support me on Patreon!

Artist IG: drea.d.art

Support her on Patreon!

[fandomnerd9602]

Harley kisses Ivy on the cheek…

Harley: good job baby

Y/N: hey! What about me?

Harley jumps into Y/N’s arms and kisses them too…

Harley: I promise you your own special award when you get home (winks)

Ivy: (purrs) make that two specials (winks)

[harknessxo]

All My Works Masterlist

WARNING! Most of the following contain SMUT and/or have a DARK theme.

➥ This Masterlist contains all my works, I hope you enjoy 🤗

Dark-♤ Angst-♧ Fluff-♡ Smut-♢

MARVEL

Agatha Harkness

Love At First Sight ♤

Summary: When Agatha saw you she knew you were going to be hers.

Unattended ♡

Summary: Agatha has been working all day and leaves you unattended.

You Can Run But You Can’t Hide ♤

Summary: Agatha slowly starts to isolate you so you can only rely on her and her alone but her plan has one flaw.

I’ve missed you ♤♢

Summary: You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought. (This is also based on the one clip of Rio pinning Agatha to the wall.)

Neighborly Desires ♤♢

Summery: You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Agrio ♢

Summery: The fight scene between Agatha and Rio but with smut.

Unraveling ♡

Summary: For the past three years, Agatha was trapped under the Scarlet Witch’s spell. Trapped in her own mind to play the character of Agnes, the nosy neighbor. But even then she was able to find some sort of happiness, you. At some point, you always found yourself at her house, talking or just watching tv together and in Agatha’s mind it became a romantic comedy where you were her love interest. It was such a refresher after the nightmares of her past she had every night. Then came the day the spell was suddenly lifted. Agatha had finally come to her senses. She had fallen in love again after all these years but were you even real? She had no sense of what was real or fake.

THE GREATEST ♧♡

Summery: Agatha has to make a choice without hurting you.

THE DINER ♤♢♧♡

Summary: Unbeknownst to you, you had the pleasure of being Agatha’s next victim but she takes a liking to you.

Cigarettes out the Window ♢♧♡

Summary: You go into a fight with your parents about your grades and ran to the only safe place you know, Agatha.

Needy ♢

Summary: Agatha finds you touching yourself without permission when she got off work and gives you a much needed punishment.

House Of Balloons ♤♢

Summary: When Agatha went into Westview her goal was to find the source of such chaotic magic but the moment she saw you, her plan changed just a little bit.

Love is Embarrassing ♤♢

Summary: Your girlfriend, Kate, broke up with you and you decided it’s time to get a therapist before you fall down a spiral you can’t get out of.

Professor Harkness ♢

Summary: Agatha is a very attractive but strict Professor in your College. You somehow manage to keep up with her without seducing her like many students tried but failed to, which makes her take an interest in you.

Hela Odindottir

Too Sweet ♢

Summery: She finds you talking to a guard in the garden and makes you cum until she’s satisfied as a punishment.

Okoye

Lesson ♢

Summary: Okoye thinks you're a spoiled brat and deserve a lesson.

Shuri Udaku

No Escape ♤♢

Summary: You tried to escape but there is no escaping her.

Pretty Little Thing ♤♢

Summary: You were sent on a mission to retrieve vibranium from Wakanda for S.H.I.E.L.D. In the process you get caught by the Black Panther.

Queen Ramonda

You Don’t Deserve To Mourn ♧

Summary: When Ramonda drowns, Shuri blames it on you.

The Set Up ♡

Summary: You work as a scientist in Shuri's lab, and one day the Queen walks in to talk with Shuri and T'Challa about something. You find it impossible to take your eyes off of her. Shuri and T’Challa notice and set you both up.

My Queen ♡♢

Summary: The Queen has been having a stressful day so you help her out.

For Your Own Good ♤♢♡

Summary: “When she was told of her husband’s death she was devastated of course, but the first thing on her mind was you. She couldn’t let another person she loved to get killed, not under her watch. She thought the best way to keep you safe was to have you with her at all times, whether you liked it or not.”

Try That Again ♢

Summary: Ramonda had been busy all day and you wanted attention so you decided to have a bratty attitude but she had none of it.

WWE

Charlotte Flair

Not So Permanent ♢

Summary: After Charlotte is suspended for attacking a ref she goes to your office in hopes to change your mind about her punishment.

Revenge ♧♢♡

Summary: You lost your NXT Championship to Lyra while Rhea was gone and she was not happy. When you didn’t succeed at getting it back she and the rest of TJD left you. You found comfort in someone else who also helped get your revenge.

Workout ♤♡

Summary: You and Charlotte went I the gym. A guy thought it was a good idea to mess with you and Charlotte took care of it.

Still Your Mami ♢

Summary: Charlotte congratulates Rhea after their match in more ways than one.

Rhea Ripley

Always Back To You ♧♢♡

Series Summary: Rhea has a one night stand with none other than the tribal chief Roman Reigns. Eventually that one night stand becomes multiple one night stands and her life gets turned upside down.

You Belong To Me ♢?

Summary: You break a rule and Rhea makes sure you get in line.

Revenge ♧♢♡

Summary: You lost your NXT Championship to Lyra while Rhea was gone and she was not happy. When you didn’t succeed at getting it back she and the rest of TJD left you. You found comfort in someone else who also helped get your revenge.

I’m Your Papi ♢

Summary: Rhea has a new papi.

Roman Reigns

Always Back To You ♧♢♡

Series Summary: Rhea has a one night stand with none other than the tribal chief Roman Reigns. Eventually that one night stand becomes multiple one night stands and her life gets turned upside down.

Other

Larissa Weems

Almost Caught ♢

Summary: You acted like a brat towards Larissa and in the middle of your punishment, your family interrupts.

Nightmares ♡♢

Summary: You have been having nightmares and Larissa wants to help you but in the process, feelings rise up.

Alice Chambers

Reminder ♤♢

Summary: A woman flirts with you at the grocery store and Alice shows you who you belong to.

Harley Quinn

Crazy ♤♢

Summary: You were assigned to be Harley Quinn's new psychiatrist and things take a turn.

[viking-raider]

The Devil Made Me Do It *Mature* 👻

Summary: Upon receiving a mysterious and anonymous invitation to a Halloween party, a chauffeur takes you to an LA mansion estate for the party; where you meet your mystery man for an All Hallow's Eve you'll never forget.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader + Mystery Character/Reader

Word Count: 9.8k

Warning: M - Secrets, Mystery, Alcohol Use, Scares, Costumes, Flirting, Teasing, Language, Mysterious Behavior, Longing, Fluff, Angst, Co-Workers to Lovers - SMUT - Unprotected sex, Fingering: (F - Receiving), Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Oral: (F - Receiving), Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Praise, Dirty Talk, Possible Corruption and Dub-Con, Light Dom, Aftercare

Inspiration: It’s Halloween and Kinktober! Posting now for Friday, the 13th!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

“So, who is your date?” Your best friend asked, glancing at you through the mirror you were using to put the finishing touches on your Harley Quinn costume.

“I don't know.” You answered, turning your head side to side, making sure you'd gotten everything perfect. “I just got a card delivered, stating it was from someone I know and asking if I would join them for an enchanting night.”

“And you're sure it's not from a stalker?” She asked, planting her hands on her hips.

“I'm sure it's not, Maggie.” You giggled at her, shaking your head. “Few people know my nickname, and it was noted on the card. So, I know it's from someone inside our circle of friends. Stop fretting over it.” You told her, getting up and facing her. “If it's someone I don't like in our circle or I'm uncomfortable with, I'll call you.”

“You better!” Maggie huffed, wagging a finger at you.

“Yes, ma'am.” You smirked, giving her a quick hug. “I have to go, they asked me to meet them at nine. Have fun handing out candy and protecting the house from tricksters!” You called out to her, grabbing your jacket and black, cross body, boho bag as you headed out the door.

You were about to unlock your car, when another pulled up at the bottom of the driveway, a matte black Cadillac Lyriq, and a man in a classy, black suit stepped out of the driver's seat, casting his eyes around as if to make sure he had the right address, before settling them on you.

“Are you the young lady that lives here?” He asked, motioning to the two-story house you lived in with Maggie, positioned on a cliff that gave the two of you access to your own private sandy beach on the LA coast.

“One of them.” You answered, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, going into the inside pocket of his jacket to pull out a small, black card and approached you with it held out. “I was told to give you this, then take you downtown.”

Taking the card from him, you read the gilded, blood-red lettering on it: 'My love, please allow me to treat you on this night together. My driver, Marco, will ensure you arrive safely, so we may enjoy our spooky festivities.'

“A lot of cloak and dagger going on with your employer.” You smirked at Marco, touched and amused, as you tucked the card into your bag.

Marco smirked and nodded his head. “Yes, he's having a good time with it. But he's quite eager to meet up with you.” He chuckled, offering his arm to you as you started down the slightly sloped driveway and ushered you to the back passenger-side door, opening it and handing you inside.

You settled in the backseat, pulling your mobile from your bag and texted Maggie. He sent me a chauffeur.

Maggie: Fancy!

During the drive, you snapped some photos of yourself, posting them on your Instagram, wishing everyone; family, friends and fans alike, a happy Halloween before pocketing it and glancing out the window. The quiet hills you lived in, dotted with beautiful homes, started to fall away for the speed and lights of downtown Los Angeles. Traffic thickened, forcing Marco to slow the Cadillac down until it stopped several cars behind a red light.

“Are you allowed to tell me where we're going?” You asked, leaning forward between the front seats. “Or is that to remain a secret?” You smirked as Marco glanced sideways at you.

“I am sworn to secrecy, my lady.” He smirked, winked and got the car rolling again.

Marco drove you across LA to the posh side of the City of Angels, where all of the famous people called home or a vacation getaway. He maneuvered the winding road, until pulling up to a towering, black ornate gate, pausing to enter the pass code, rolling the gate back and permitting you.

“Wow.” You uttered, eyes popping and mouth dropping, seeing the enormous mansion with a circle driveway and bubbling fountain, as you leaned even further between the seats, craning your neck to look out the front window.

It was elaborately decorated; nothing was left for the imagination with its decorations, and it was clear the owner of the home had no issue spending the money on their expenses. Pumpkin lights lined the driveway, the windows at the front of the house were backlit and flickering back and forth between orange and green, with vast and long threads of spiderwebs and cobwebs over them. There were hanging ghosts and skeletons in the trees, an extensive graveyard to one side, with body parts poking out of the mock graves. Everywhere you looked, something caught your eye, impressing you more and more.

“He really went all out.” You chuckled, as Marco stopped at the front door, the stairs leading up to the double doors flanked by massive gargoyles with glowing red eyes.

“Oh, this isn't his home.” Marco answered, releasing his seatbelt. “This is the home of a colleague. He was given an invitation to attend their party here and it had a plus one on it. So, he asked you to join him.” He explained, getting out of the car and opening your door.

“Ah.” You blinked, confused as you took his hand and slipped out of the car, met with a thump of distant music and festivities. “So, how am I supposed to meet my date?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Go inside,” Marco said, motioning to the doors. “The butler at the door will ask you for the code word. It's 'Beetlejuice'. Once you've been admitted, ask them to show you to Lucifer's room.”

“Lucifer?” You purred, amused.

“Yes, ma'am.” He chuckled, nodding. “With that, I wish you a good evening and a happy Halloween.” He said, kissing your hand and getting back into the car.

“Cloak and Dagger much?” You snorted and made your way up the steps. “Oh Christ!” You yelped, as the gargoyles on either side of you came to life, roaring and turning their heads towards you, dropping their bottom jaws open. “Rude.” You panted, composing yourself as the front doors swung open, letting out a flow of music and murmur of voices from inside, and revealing a man dressed as a zombie-butler.

“Madam.” He regarded you, with a thick Scottish accent. “Are you here for the party?”

“I am.” You answered him, making it to the top of the stairs. “I believe the password is, Beetlejuice.”

He bowed his painted face. “Correct.” He turned and lifted a hand to usher you inside. “Please, come in. I'm Mr. Davison, should you require anything during your stay here, please find me.” He told you, closing the doors as the two of you stepped into a grand foyer, two twisting staircases on either side, leading up to a landing on the second floor. On the ground floor were three hallways, one straight ahead between the staircases, where you could see flashing lights with the bump and sway of bodies, and two hallways on either side of you.

“There is one thing you can help with, Mr. Davison.” You said over the noise, turning to face him. “I'm actually a plus one to an invited guest of this party. I was told by the driver my date sent to bring me, to ask to be shown to Lucifer's room.” You explained to him, biting your painted lip, while studying his gray, black and bloody face, butterflies filling your stomach. “Whomever Lucifer is, since he's been secretive about his identity since asking me out.”

Davison smirked, his dark eyes dancing with amusement, clearly knowing who your date and Lucifer was. “Of course, right this way.” He said, before guiding you up the left staircase.

You could feel the vibration of music through the floor as you followed him down the decorated hallway. Each door on either side decorated a different theme, such as Jack and Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas, Jason's mask and bloody machete from Friday the 13th, a Gothic door with an image of Bela Lugosi from Dracula and the doll, Jigsaw, from SAW. Davison stopped before a door, it was red with the silhouette of a pair of angel wings and a flaming halo with black horns.

“Lucifer.” You mumbled to yourself, watching Davison knock loud enough to be heard above the noise of the party, you were distracted by the zombie-butler stepping aside, as the door opened and revealed your date.

“You made it!” They declared to them, excited and relieved that you had come.

“Of course!” You answered, finally looking up at him, only to have your mouth drop open.

Standing before you in a stylish pair of black slacks, a matching vest over a light-gray dress shirt, the first few buttons undone and the long sleeves rolled up his forearms. At first, it wasn't much of an impressive costume, until you studied his face, he wore a touch of black eye-liner, that was slightly smudged, and poised on his forehead was a pair of glue-on horns, well blended in to match his skin color with at touch of red, as if it was a pain for him to have horns breaking through his otherwise angelic appearance.

“Henry!” You squeaked, surprised to see the Brit standing there, imitating Lucifer Morningstar from the DC comic and hit tv show.

“Hey.” He grinned, moving forward and hugging you. “You look great!” He said, stepping back again to look over your Harley Quinn costume, loving the gold, argyle overalls, pink sports bra, pink and blue hair and make-up. “You nailed Harley.” He commented, meeting your eyes again, finally noticing your surprise that he was the one that asked you out. “Oh.” He blushed, carding a hand through his hair.

“Right, I suppose I should explain myself. Why don't you come in?” He suggested stepping aside so you could enter the room. “Do you want something to drink? Davison can get you something.” He said, looking between you and the butler. “Anything you want.”

“We have several Halloween themed cocktails, wines, whiskey and such.” Davison told you, reappearing before the door.

“I'll have one of your cocktails.” You answered, with a small nod. “I'll leave that to your recommendation.”

“I would appreciate a refill as well, Davison.” Henry added in, with a polite nod.

“I'll bring them, presently.” He nodded back, and started downstairs.

“So, you're my date.” You said, entering the room with Henry, finding it was a sitting room that led into a bedroom.

“I am.” Henry smirked, closing the door. “I hope you're not...disappointed.” He said, looking at you with blue eyes that truly wished you weren't.

“I'm not at all disappointed.” You assured him, offering him a sweet smile. “Just surprised.” You confessed to him, pressing your lips together. “We had a couple interactions during the filming of Mission Impossible, but I wouldn't have guessed enough for you to notice me and to ask me out on a mysterious date to a high end LA party.”

“Oh, I noticed you the moment we were in the same room together.” He told you the truth of his feelings for you all over his face. “I tried drumming up the courage to ask you out so many times in those three months. I just kept chickening out, because I didn't think you'd say yes or be interested. So, when my friend sent me an invitation to his party here, you were my first thought on who to bring. But, again, I didn't think you'd say yes. Especially after we hadn't seen each other in a couple months. However, he suggested I send you a note asking you to come and send my driver to pick you up, to see what would happen.”

“You think I would say no to you?” You frowned at him, your brow pinching. “God, I would have said yes in a heartbeat.” You blurted out, shamelessly. “I admit, I wasn't going to come. I was suspicious about the motives and a little worried that it was set up by my stalker.”

Henry's face went blank for a moment, before it filled with worry and how stupid he felt. “I am so sorry. I didn't know you had a stalker, or I would have never been so secretive. I would have just asked you out right. I hope I didn't put you through any anxiety.”

You chuckled at him, shaking your head. “No, you didn't.” You assured him, waving it off. “You just set off my protective roommate, Maggie, who I should probably text and tell who my mystery man is, at some point.” You said, finding the whole thing amusing now.

There was a knock on the door and Davison came in with a small platter holding your and Henry's drinks, a skeleton hand wine-glass with a red shimmer liquid and a black substance around the rim. Beside that was Henry's squat glass of whiskey on the rocks, the ice shaped like a bone.

“Your Vampire's Kiss.” Davison said, as you took your glass. “Spiced rum, Cran-Grape juice, Grenadine and black sanding sugar.” He listed off the ingredients as you took a careful sip.

“Mmm.” You moaned, nodding your head. “Positively enchanting, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He smiled, tucking the platter under his arm. “Enjoy your evening and the festivities.” He bid you and Henry, then saw himself out.

“Well, would you like to look around?” Henry asked, swilling his drink. “There's dancing and a bar downstairs and I've been told the backyard of the house has quite the surprise.”

“I'm not much for dancing.” You confessed, a shy smile crossing your face.

Henry looked a tad relieved at your words. “That's more than fine. I'm not either.” He chuckled, glancing down into the amber liquid in his glass. “The backyard then?”

“The backyard.” You nodded, smirking with an excited giddiness.

Nodding, Henry polished off his drink and set it on a small coffee table that was in the sitting room. You finished yours and put it beside his, then dropped your bag on the floor under the table. Henry opened the door, letting you enter the thrumming hallway first and followed, taking a key out of his pocket and locked the door behind you both.

“Worried about something?” You inquired, as he pocketed the key again.

“No.” He answered, shaking his head with a blank expression. “Better safe than sorry, I suppose.” He admitted, pressing his hand over the key. “Anyway, let's find out what's in the backyard.” He smiled, offering his hand out to you.

“If it's as good as the rest of the decorations I've seen, it'll be great.” You smiled back, taking his hand.

The two of you descended the spiral staircase you'd come up earlier, Henry paused and looked towards the hallway that led into the room where all the dancing was occurring, then looked at you.

“It's a little warm in here.” He said, even though it was cool in the foyer. “Why don't we go out the front and walk around the side?” He suggested, with an arched brow.

“Sounds fine to me.” You nodded, content with not going through the press of bodies on the dance floor to make it to the backyard.

Giving you a wink, Henry shifted your hand to his forearm and walked you to the entry, nodding to Davison. “We'd like to take a little stroll.” He informed the man, who nodded back and pulled open the double doors for you. “Thank you kindly.”

“So, are you in LA only for the party?” You asked as the two of you went down the steps, while mentally preparing yourself not to get frightened by the gargoyles again.

“No.” Henry chuckled, glancing away from you with a bashful smirk. “I just finished filming a movie in England. The first Enola Holmes movie, where I play Sherlock Holmes.” He explained, looking left and right for a moment, before guiding you towards the left. “I came out here after I finished, to take a little vacation, and suppose they heard I was in town and invited me.”

“A vacation, is that all?” You smirked at him, having a sneaking suspicion the Brit may have had an extra motive for coming out.

“Well,” He droned, rolling his eyes with a guilty smirk. “There may have been a certain lady I hoped to catch up with, while I was in the city.” He confessed, shooting you a glance from the corner of his eye. “Thankfully for me, I had the opportunity to.”

“Mmm, yes.” You nodded, cocking a brow at him and pressing your lips together. “Lucky for you.”

He patted your hand and grinned with boy-ish pride. “He really went all out for decor.” He commented, rounding the corner with you, to get met with tall, manicured hedges covered in webs and skeletons trying to break through and coming at you. The entryway cut into the hedges was covered with chains, obscuring your view of what was on the other side.

“That he did.” You agreed, twisting to look at the graveyard behind you. “I really like that makeshift graveyard over there. Very fright night.” You commented, rather eager to see what Henry's friend had down in their backyard. “Let's go in!” You giggled, moving towards the chain-cover entrance, your hand slipping down Henry's forearm, until you caught his hand and could pull him through after you.

Chuckling, Henry let you drag him into the side yard, finding scarecrows on either side, a bloody butcher's knife through the body of one as it rested on a cross of thin wooden poles and the another hung from the branch of a tree, swaying in the gentle, evening breeze. There were a few more graves, lining the path, leading towards the back of the house.

“Declan Hunley.” You read one of the grave markers. “Born 1879, dead 1910, killed for not looking behind him.” You frowned and looked up at Henry. “That's a weird mess-” You shrieked as the grave on the other side of the path burst open to reveal a gnarled zombie crawling out, growling and hissing, as you scrambled behind Henry in your terror.

Henry's heart rocked in his chest in surprise, instinctively putting an arm out between you and the flesh-eating monster. But a smile soon crossed his lips, guiding you around the zombie, who made decent grabs at your ankles, however made no attempt to crawl out of his grave to follow after you.

“Oh my gosh.” You panted, brushing your multi-colored hair out of your face, with shaking hands.

“It's all right.” Henry cooed, resting his hand on the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles. “I think he's still snacking on poor Declan.” He quipped, smirking at you.

You managed to laugh a little bit, your heart rate slowing down and collecting yourself. “Well, we know what the tombstone meant.” You sighed, shaking your head, feeling foolish for falling for it. “Suckered me.” You chuckled, then cast your eyes out over the backyard. “Oh wow.” You mumbled, eyes widening as your mouth dropped agape.

Henry turned and his brows went up. “Damn. I'll hand it to him, he didn't spare a shilling for all of this.” He commented, taking in the immaculate backyard.

The three sets of double doors leading out from where the dancing and bar was set up were open and brought out the sound of voices and music with them. There was a trickle of people on the patio, which was lit by standing torches of orange, green and red. Sitting on the furniture or huddled around the couple of blazing fire pits, were a few hired staff helping them roast marshmallows for S'mores or brew hot chocolate. Beyond the patio, were tall hedges and party-goers funneling into the opening, stopped only by someone at the entrance, before vanishing into the dark and glowing fog.

“I wonder what they're doing?” You muttered to yourself, brow creasing with curiosity.

“We can find out, if you want?” Henry said beside you, his head cocking to the side to see your face.

“Let's go!” You smiled, clapping your hands and dashing forward.

Henry laughed, amused and touched at your enthusiasm, before following after you. You were stopped at the entrance of the mysterious attraction by a man dressed up in a torn and bloody lab coat. A tall fridge with a clear door stood beside him, filled with green, red and blue test tubes.

“Beware!” The bedraggled doctor wheezed, reaching out to prevent you and Henry from going any further. “There's a deadly pathogen inside the maze!” He panted, looking back and forth between the two of you frantically; as if you had the cure and answer.

“Oh no!” You gasped back at him, bringing a hand to your chest, dramatically, making Henry snort behind you. “It sounds terrible!” You whimpered, trying to hold back a giggle.

“It is!” He agreed, not breaking character, while pulling open the fridge door. “There's only one way to make it through, without succumbing to the pathogen. It's by taking this antidote.” He waved a hand over the display, before taking two out and handing you a red tube and Henry, the blue.

The label on your tube told you the antidote was made from white rum and cherry liqueur, while Henry's was made of Curaçao and SVEDKA, blue raspberry flavored vodka. Uncapping and tossing the red antidote back, the chilled liquid burned down your throat into your stomach, and finally out through your veins. Mixing with the wine you had in Henry's room. Drinking down his own antidote and tossing the empty tube in the provided bin, the doctor finally let you pass. Entering the foggy maze, constructed out of the manicured hedges, stone planters with beautiful and exotic flowers. There were LED lights tucked into the dense and dark-green leaves, flickering in an off-rhythm, giving the already dark and close passages a disorienting feel.

“This is so cool!” You giggled, bouncing on your toes and turning back to look at Henry, who walked close behind you.

“Yeah, it is.” He agreed, glancing behind him, hearing a screech that was all too human, from somewhere else in the maze. “He really went all out for Halloween.” He looked back to you and smiled, finding the two of you had come to a three way.

“Which way should we go?” You asked, looking around, before looking at Henry.

“Hmm.” He hummed, glancing about, then smirked at you. “This way.” He said, jerking his head to the left, taking your hand and led you down the footpath.

“Do you know where you're going?” You asked, frowning at his back.

“I might.” Henry answered, casting a teasing glance over his shoulder.

“Shady Devil.” You teased, smirking at him.

After a couple twists and turns, the two of you came to a dead end that was adorned with a massive marble statue of a half-naked archer, shooting her arrow into the skies and a bench at her feet. There was a square lantern hanging from the tip of the Archer's arrow and two on the bench, casting an eerie, flickering, orange glow in the dark mist that surrounded you. But you were apprehensive about the skeleton sitting on the bench with them.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. But fool me three times, screw that! You thought, eyeing it. But the flickering light and swirl of fog played tricks on you, making it difficult to tell if the skeleton was twitching or not.

“I don't trust it.” You said aloud, and Henry's chuckle filled the enchanted space.

“I wouldn't blame you, love.” He admitted, cautious himself about the authenticity of the skeleton, however taking a gallant step forward to find out. “I think the poor chap died of whatever pathogen is in the maze though.” He quipped, making himself laugh and you rolled your eyes, amused. Reaching the skeleton without it jumping out at him, Henry put his hand on top of its cranium and gave it a gentle shake, causing the rest of the body to rattle on the bench, revealing it to be a prop.

“We're safe from another scare.” Henry declared, picking it up and setting it aside, making room for the two of you to sit down together. “I am really glad you came.” He said, as you sat down beside him. “I know I already said it, but I am.”

“I'm really happy that I came as well.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat already in your cheeks from your alcohol consumption increase, but the cool night helped keep it under control.

Henry grinned, giddy to hear it. “Kal really missed you, after you finished filming your scenes in Norway.” He confessed, chuckling as he fussed with the skull fob on the end of a pocket watch chain he had attached to the front of his vest.

“Oh, Kal missed me, did he?” You purred, amused.

“Yeah, Kal.” He nodded, glancing up at you, his blue eyes dark and holding a gaze that sent a shiver down your back. “Are you cold?” He asked, a playful and coy smirk curling up one corner of his mouth as he moved a little closer to you, offering the warmth of his body.

“I'm either cold or the pathogen is setting in.” You sighed softly, biting your lower lip and tucking yourself into his side, a quiet moan escaping your throat as the weight of Henry's strong arm slotted around your shoulders.

It was all of sudden that you were aware of how close Henry's mouth was to yours, his eyes still trained on your face, waiting—watching—for your reaction. Were you going to push him away or were you going to let him go all the way?

Screw it!

You leaned forward and locked lips with him, feeling Henry smile for a moment before meeting your kiss. His palm moved to cup your nape, fingers curling into your hair and nails grazing your scalp, ever so lightly, drawing another shiver out of you. Henry's other hand moved around to your hip and tugged you closer to him, all but pulling you into his lap. The kiss is slow and easy at first, feeling each other out, testing the waters to see if it was right. Then, as if your minds connected like Bluetooth, the embrace became hungry. Fingers slipped into the armholes of his vest and your back straightened as you made little tugs on the soft fabric, needing to feel him closer against you.

“Henry.” You whimpered into his mouth, lashes fluttering open, hearing his breathing deepen, watching and feeling his chest heave.

His lips brushed yours, the warm puffs of his pants caressing your face as his eyes bored into yours, arms dropping around your waist and squeezing you against his rigid body. He felt the same longing that showed in your eyes, and wanted nothing more than to fulfill it. His palms moved up your back and made for the straps of your overalls, shoving one off your shoulders and unclasping the other. Leaning away for the zipper in the middle, unzip it, making it fall off your shoulders completely, to gather around your waist, giving Henry a nice peek at the black lace, bikini panties you were wearing.

“Mmm.” He hummed, smirking at you with half lidded eyes. “Not shorts?” He rasped, tracing the tip of his finger along the wavy edge, before giving the waistband a playful pop.

You felt a slight heat of embarrassment in the pit of your stomach, but your expression was bashful. “Didn't expect any fallen Angels to sneak a peek down my overalls.” You quipped, playfully pushing a button at the top of his vest open.

“It was far too tempting.” Henry murmured, leaning in to kiss you once more, while his hand caressed your bare side, your skin dancing at the feather light contact, before it grazed the waistband of your panties.

Pausing, he meets your eyes once more, seeking permission. You answered it with a nip at his bottom lip and went in for another heated and heady kiss. With an amused rumble, Henry pushed his hand beyond the barrier, drawing out the magical sound against his mouth, when his fingertips dusted over your throbbing clit. He teased you, only giving you the lightest of touch, as if a ghost was tormenting you from the great beyond. Hands moving to the last three buttons of Henry's vest, you opened his dress shirt and pushed your hands inside of it, finding the burning and hard packed muscles he worked so hard on, every day, dusted with dark hair. You lightly dragged your blue, red and white painted nails down his chest; Henry growled and let out a sharp hiss, giving you a narrow-eyed look.

“Oh!” A voice rang out, before Henry could repay your action. “I am so sorry!”

Almost all of your arousal vanished, you quickly fixed your clothing and tried to act as casual as possible but struggled to meet the other party-goer's eyes. Henry on the other hand, had little qualms, having embodied his costume's entity.

“That's quite all right.” He chuckled, not bothering to button his open shirt, showing off his bare chest and nail marks. “Wrong turns happen.” He smirked, his face morphing into this delighted, sinister expression.

“Yeah, this place is a serious maze.” The man, dressed as a Roman soldier, answered, his startled eyes still moving back and forth between you.

“It is.” Henry nodded, his tone hinting for him to go on his way. “There's many more dead ends like this one, I'm sure you'll find.”

Blinking, then finally getting it, the Roman soldier turned and vanished into the fog and dark of the maze, leaving you and Henry once again alone.

“Well, that was interesting.” He laughed, looking back to you, finally buttoning his shirt.

“Yeah, you can say that.” You answered with a half-hearted laugh.

Biting his lip, feeling the mood had been destroyed and sighed softly. “You want to finish the maze?” He asked, offering you a smile, brows lifted in question. “Or we could go back inside?” He added, brow creasing a little.

You balanced the options, seeing the rest of the maze and what was at the end intrigued you, but finishing what you and Henry started was still a rage inferno between your thighs. “I think it's a bit too nippy out here for what I have on.” You answered, licking your lip and eyeing Henry.

“You know,” He replied, glancing thoughtfully. “I believe you're right.” He said, giving a soft shiver himself, his massive shoulders quaking. “Let's go back inside.” He cooed, fixing his vest and standing to offer you his arm.

Taking it, you retraced your steps back to the start of the maze, nodding to the Mad Doctor, who was restocking the antidotes, quickly moved by the grave with the awaiting zombie at the side of the house, and were met yet again by Davison at the door, as he opened them to greet you.

“I hope you found the attractions and festivities to your liking?” He inquired, shutting the doors behind you.

“We did.” Henry nodded, smiling at you. “He went all out for his Halloween party. It's quite amazing.”

“Yeah, it's gotten my heart beat up several times.” You chuckled, smiling back. “Not a party I'll forget.” “I'm pleased to hear it, and so will he.” Davison smiled, pleased.

“We're going to retire upstairs for a bit.” Henry informed him with a wink, leading you towards the staircase. “Have a good evening, Davis.”

“And you.” He called back.

“No.” He chuckled, smiling down at his bare feet. “It is rare. But this isn't really an occasion to bring him along. So, I left him with a good friend.”

“Mmm.” You hummed, leaning back against the bed's footboard to unlace your shoes. “I suppose not.” You agreed, flexing your toes and glancing up at him. “You want to help me?” You asked, gesturing to your overalls. “You seemed quite the expert out in the maze.” You quipped, impishly.

Pursing his lips and giving you a hungry look, Henry strode forward, closing the gap between you easily with his long legs, and took the zipper between his fingers again, but now, he took his time. You watched him work the clasp gently down the molten-gold fabric, revealing more and more of you as it reached its end, between your legs. Henry smirked at your panties, discovering they were not only sheer, but sported a nice, growing wet patch.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” He asked in a breath voice, nimble fingers moving to your straps, caressing the skin beneath it, before flicking it open, the overalls slipping to one side.

“You don't see me stopping you, do you?” You quipped back, as the last strap fell from your shoulder and your outfit started to slip down your body.

He shook his head, hands moving up to the buttons of his shirt, but your hand came up to brush them aside, intent on doing that yourself. Pushing each black button through their hole with painstaking care, knowing Henry was impatient about picking up where you left off outside. You moaned softly, tugging the tucked in fabric from the waistband of his pants and pushing his shirt off his shoulders and arms. You were slow to pull his belt free of their loops, admiring the growing bulge at the front of his slacks. With his belt free, you curled your fingers around the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs, only to be stopped by Henry's hands grasping your wrists.

“What?” You frowned, looking up at him.

“Top.” He answered, motioning to it with his head. “Off.”

“I think I'm a little more naked than you are.” You stated, raising a brow at him.

“I'll be naked the moment you pull my pants and underwear down.” He countered with a smirk.

You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Fair.” You chuckled, pulling your hands away to remove your pink sports bra. “Better, you devil?” You teased, tossing the article of clothing over his head.

“Much, my little joker.” He rasped, cupping one of your breasts in his hand and rubbing its hardened nub with the pad of his thumb. “You can finish your task now.” He said, leaning in to kiss you.

“Mm, thanks.” You mumbled against his mouth, hands blindly finding their way back to his waist, tugging at it, and trying not to be distracted by his lips and hands working their magic on you. “Bat above, you're evil.” You whimpered to the pinch he gave your breast, sending a tingle to your still clothed clit. Henry turned his head, lips brushing the helix of your ear. “I'm not Lucifer for nothing, my dear.” He whispered, allowing his accent to dip and deepen.

Your knees weakened and you let out a breathy whimper. “Good lord.” You gulped, grasping the back of his arms for support.

“I'd rather keep his name to a minimum.” Henry quipped, with a playful attempt at a wink.

“Classic.” You giggled, tilting your head back to brush your lips against his stubbly jaw. “Apologies, Prince of Darkness.” You teased, hand trailing down his torso to his semi-hard cock, closing your fingers around the heated flesh.

Henry hissed in your ear, hooked an arm around your waist and snagged you against him, lifting you off your feet and moving around to the side of the bed, setting you down on it. He paused for a moment, to turn out the lights, then joined you again, where you had fixed yourself correctly on the comfortable mattress and about to slip your undies off.

“No.” He rumbled, slipping between your legs and gently pushing your hands away. “Those are mine.” He informed you, taking a hold of the delicate fabric and started to slip them off. “Oh, you smell so tasty.” He cooed, catching a whiff of your glistening folds, tossing your panties aside and leaning closer with a lick of his lips.

Gulping, you melted back against the pillows as Henry's mouth closed around your slick, vibrating your sensitive need with a rumble of carnal lust. You pawed at the duvet beneath you, rolling your hips against his working mouth, tongue parting your folds to collect the dripping nectar flowing from your cavern. You whimpered and squeezed your thighs against his head, feeling his horns brush your heated and trembling skin, building the numb and tingling sensation at the pit of your stomach.

“Oh, Henry!” You whimpered, a hand moving into the curls at the back of his head. “Oh, plea-fuck!” You cried out, back arching as Henry pressed two heavy fingers onto your swollen pearl, rubbing at it in a rhythm to his mouth and drawing you over the edge swiftly.

Blinded by your orgasm, you didn't notice the figure entering the room with you and Henry for a moment. But caught the moving shape at the foot of the bed, slowly coming down and through your blurred vision, it paused, before shifting to the chair in the corner.

“Henry.” You panted, the heightening tone of alarm in your voice.

“Ssshh.” He hushed you, slowly kissing his way up your seething body until his face was nuzzled between the valley of your bosom, tasting the thin layer of exertion on your burning skin. “It's all right, love.” He heaved, his breath raising goose flesh in its wake.

“But-” You started to protest, shaking your head and trying to focus on the figure seated in the corner, feeling their eyes on you. “There's some-” You tried to warn him breathily, as his mouth encompassed one of your breasts. “Someone's in-”

“I know.” He moaned around your taut areola, before tilting his head for a second to glance at your strange guest. “It's just Gus.” He purred, a naughty smile on his lips and returned back to his worship of your body.

“August?” You whimpered, brows furrowing at his name and Henry's intent suckling. “Henry.” You sighed, eyes fluttering shut and hands pressing to Henry's broad back, letting go and getting washed away with the moment.

Smiling from his vantage point in the corner, the chair angled just right, August watched you and Henry in bed. He knew the two of you, having worked on a couple projects with Henry over the years and met you during the filming of Fall Out. When Henry told him he intended to ask you to the party, his interest and intrigue was set into motion, intent on having some of you for himself, informing Henry of this, and having Davison keep a close eye on you and Henry. So, upon hearing the two of you had been found canoodling in the maze, then scampering back upstairs to Henry's room, Davison rushed to find his boss and informed him that love was in the air between the two of you.

August left where he was entertaining in his study and moved upstairs to Henry's room, using a master key he had for every room on his estate and slipped into the darkened room, like a stealthy panther stalking its prey. Removing and turning off his light up Purge mask, he found you sprawled out on the bed, whimpering Henry's name, while his skillful mouth ate you out, like it was one of the Brit's decadent cheat meals. Hovering in the doorway between the sitting room and the bedroom, waiting—watching...you slip off the cliff of your orgasm, crying out and writhing as you fell; then moved to the bottom of the bed, to reach out and touch Henry's foot.

Alerting him that he had shown up.

He repressed a chuckle, while you tried alerting Henry to his presence, and moved towards the chair, making himself comfortable. But Henry reassured you that it was perfectly all right. It was just your good friend, August, in the room with you, and you had no reason to fret. He opened the front of his rough and semi-black jeans, lifting his hips off the chair just enough to push his pants and briefs down, allowing his rigid cock to spring free of the tight confines and rest heavily against the white dress shirt he had on. He closed his fist around the slick head of his shaft, a deep rumbling moan boiled in his throat as he slowly started to stroke himself, eyes locked on you and Henry intertwining together in bed.

Your quivering legs locked loosely around his thick thighs, while Henry's mouth was like a suction cup against the column of your throat, working in tandem to his steely manhood rubbing against your heated folds, coating the taut and veiny flesh with your sweet essence. Your quiet whimpers and mewls spurred on both men, putting cracks in August's usual calm and controlled demeanor, and pushed Henry to impatience, struggling with his will to warm you up, before diving deep into you, headfirst.

“Take her.” August rasped, abandoning his cock for a second to open his shirt and toss it aside, not wanting to soil it any more than the few wet spots of pre-come, and returned to pleasuring himself.

Henry snapped a look over his shoulder, face flushed and sweaty. “She's mine, Gus.” He hissed at the other man, eyes a dark cobalt with lust and feeling territorial.

“I belong to no one!” You wheezed, dizzy and drunk from Henry's attention.

A smirk pulled across both men's lips, and Henry looked down at you, brushing damp and colorful strands of hair off your sweaty forehead and placing a gentle kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“Of course, my love.” He cooed at you, stroking the side of your face with the back of his fingers. “We know you don't.” He said, kissing the corner of your mouth. “My apologies.” He whispered against your lips.

You sighed against his mouth and shook your head again, lifting your heavy arms to tangle your fingers into his hair. “I want you.” You murmured, nudging your nose against his, legs squeezing his to pull him in closer. “Please, Henry.” You gulped, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him.

“As you wish.” He replied quietly, pulling back slightly and slipping a hand between your bodies, grasping and stroking himself for a moment, before lining his weeping, heart-shaped tip with your glistening honeypot. “Oh god, you're so snug, Bug.” He purred, easing himself in, bit by bit, as he leaned back over you, bracing himself on his elbows, loving how you wrapped around him.

“Shit.” August grunted, fixated on Henry entering you, your folds sealing around his girth like a tailor-made glove, while trying to picture his own manhood in its place, squeezing his shaft in an attempt to replicate it.

Henry's thrusts were short and measured, rocking into you with an easy pace, almost matching the beat of the music that was bleeding through the floor downstairs. It was both what you wanted and also drove you nuts, wanting him to drive you through the bed, to turn your insides to pudding. You rocked your hips in-tune to his, one hand clawing down his sweat drenched back to dig into the meat of his bum and thrust your other hand between your bodies to find your neglected clit.

“Don't you dare come.” Henry growled at you, pressing his body down on yours, trapping you against the mattress and immobilizing your hand from pleasuring yourself. “Not without me.” He panted, holding your gaze.

You were caught off guard for a moment, before arching an amused brow at him. “Fine.” You smirked, giving him a nice pat on the butt.

“Good girl.” He purred, capturing your lips and shifting his weight again, enabling you to stroke your pulsing clit, toes curling and walls quaking around Henry's cock, milking it. “How are you doing over there, Gus?” He chuckled, shooting the American a glance over his shoulder.

“Could be better.” August grunted back, slumped a little in his seat, working his cock as he continued to watch, the sound of Henry's cock moving inside of you filled the room with your soft whimpers and moans, it was like a perfect orchestra to his ears, making his balls tight, but he still wanted you for himself.

Henry brought his lips to your ear. “He's jealous.” He whispered in a roguish tone.

“Mmm.” You moaned back, half listening to what either of them were saying, drunk on the feeling of Henry inside of you and the pressure you were applying to your tender pearl, drenching you both even more to create a wet spot on the bed sheet beneath.

“She's getting fucked out.” August smirked, hearing your numb moans. “And you haven't even let her come again.” He chuckled, using his free hand to massage his heavy sack, growling deep in his chest and pressing his head against the back of the chair.

Henry felt his own loins tingle and spasm, begging to be unloaded inside your tight, hot core, which only drew him in with each thrust, attempting to hold him inside for your own salvation. Henry groaned, thrusting forward and almost losing himself to the pressure.

“I can't hold back anymore, Hen.” You mewled up at him, breathless and spent. “Please.”

“Me neither, love.” He sighed back, nuzzling the side of your sweaty neck for a moment, before slowly slipping free. “You wanna come with me, babe?” He panted, pulling up on his knees, but kept one elbow braced beside your head.

Moving a hand between your heaving bodies, Henry gently shoved aside your sluggishly moving hand from your mound, bringing it to his mouth and gently sucked on your honey saturated fingers, savoring the heady taste. With your hand clean, Henry took a hold of himself, stroking his length and rubbing his tip against your overstimulated folds at the same time, drawing out soft whimpers and moans. Your hands kneaded his sides, while you twitched and quivered beneath him, eyes fluttering in the back of your lids with streaks to tears going down your temples.

“Oh...Henry!” You hiccupped in short gasps, licking your parched lips. “I'm-m s-so c-close!” You gulped, nudging your face against his, blindly seeking his lips.

“I am too, love.” He wheezed back, increasing the friction. “Come with me.” He whispered, meeting your lips in a breathless kiss.

It was easy, with how close the pair of you were, so you just let go. Gushing over Henry's cock and drenching the sheets even more, while Henry jerked rope after rope of his hot seed over your glistening folds and heaving stomach, making your skin sticky with each expulsion of his loins. August watched with concupiscent awe, biting into his bottom lip and digging a shoe heel into the expensive rug at his feet, as his own orgasm peaked, flowing over his jerking fist and staining the black fabric of his jeans.

You, Henry and August let out a collective sigh as your climax waned. Henry's weary arms snaked around your body, while his body slowly tilted sideways, collapsing onto the mattress with an exhausted grunt and holding you to his chest. Sighing against his collarbone, your eyes fluttering shut, spent and sedated.

A touch to your back told you, you'd fallen asleep, stirring you back to the world of the living and from the warm bubble of Henry's body. Expecting to see Henry staring at you, you opened your eyes to his sleeping face and the deep puffs of his snores.

“Right here, gorgeous.” A deep timber whispered into your ear.

Turning your head, your eyes met August's, he was leaning over you, a smile plastered on his handsome face, and his hand still stroking the length of your back. “Gus?” You mumbled, sleepily blinking up at him.

August tapped a finger to his lips and cast his eyes to Henry. “Ssshh, don't wake him, sweetheart.” He cooed at you, sweetly. “He needs his rest.” He told you, before helping you carefully untangle from Henry's embrace and sit up on the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing, August?” You asked, looking up at him, even though you had your suspicions.

“Helping you clean up.” He answered, dipping his hand to your stomach, reminding you of Henry's dried release, that was still there. “I started a nice, warm shower for you.” He explained, taking your hands in his and pulled you to your feet, stretching your sore muscles.

“Sure, Gus.” You giggled, letting him guide you around the bed and into the bathroom, the sound of falling water filling your ears and blanket of warm steam wrapping around you as it filled the space. “You're only helping, so you can have your chance.” You smirked, not so out of it during your lovemaking with Henry to forget August's jealousy he was missing out.

August laughed, unconcerned of sound now that the door was closed. “So perceptive of you, Sugar.” He smirked, opening the door of the shower stall for you. “Unless you'd rather I leave you and Henry be.” He added, as you entered the shower, cocking a brow at you.

“Hmm.” You hummed, stepping under the pleasant spray of the showerhead, letting the water wash over you, before glancing at August over your shoulder. “Well, it would be a lie, if I said I hadn't thought about what it would be like to be with both of you.” You smirked, eyes dancing with mischief. “And Hen and I already had our fun.”

“You impish, little jester.” August growled, discarding the remains of his clothing and joined you, hugging an arm around your waist and pressing his chest against your back, his mouth finding your neck, the hairs of his immaculate mustache tickling your wet skin.

“Christ, August.” You moaned, his rock-hard manhood pressing against your butt. “I-” Your breath caught in your throat, August's hand closing around your mound, fingers oh-so-delicately caressing your pearl, waking it from its soreness.

“You what, Sugar?” He purred into your ear, nipping at its rim almost painfully. “Tell me.” He insisted, free hand coming up to cup your jaw and pull your back to rest against his shoulder.

“I want you.” You whimpered, chewing on your bottom lip and pushing up on your toes. “Take me, Gus.” You begged him, grinding against his manhood.

Smirking, August took a step forward, until you were trapped between him and the warm, smokey-gray subway tile of the shower wall. He spread your feet and gripped your hip with one hand, grasping his shaft in the other and teased your silky folds, only slipping just his tip between them to rim your passage, loving the feel of your quiver.

“So desperate for me to fill you up.” He chuckled, kneading your hip.

“August, please.” You huffed, still overstimulated from being with Henry and unable to take August's teasing. “Please, I need you inside of me.” You moaned, legs wobbling as he pushed the first half of his manhood into your ruined cavern, your knees almost giving out, had it not been for him and the wall holding you up.

“Stuff me.” You told him, mindlessly.

“I intend too, Sugar.” August smirked, gripping both of your hips and used them as leverage to ease the rest of himself inside of you, still taking his time, despite your continued begs and mewls. “You take me so well, sweetheart.” He panted, once he was settled, engulfed inside your pocket. “Henry did so well, opening you for me.” He chuckled, pressing a palm to the tile above your head and drew almost completely out, then drove back in, hammering into your sweet and sore spot, drawing out a cry from your lips that echoed in the stall.

“August!” You arched your back into his thrusts, cheek pressed against the wall and eyes squeezed shut. “Oh god.” You wheezed, breath fogging the glossy tile. “You feel so good, Gus.” You told him, your voice hardly above the sound of the shower head. “So good.” You mumbled to yourself, nursing your walls around his cock, feeling every ridge and vein as you did and every driving force of him moving inside of you.

“Oh, you're not going to last for me, are you, Sugar?” He cooed, stroking the back of your wet hair and squeezing the nape of your neck. “Just too fucked out.” He hummed, sensing and watching your body tremble as you did your best to fight off your orgasm. “That's all right, princess.” He said, kissing the top of your head and increasing the pace of his thrusts. “Let go.” He instructed you, locking an arm around your waist. “Come all over my cock, gorgeous.” He egged you on, until he felt your body quake and tense, a hot rush around his frenzied shaft.

“There you go, very good.” He praised you, lining kisses over your shoulder and neck, nuzzling his face there as he buried himself deep inside and let loose, pumping his load into your core and painting your walls, unlike Henry.

The two of you stood there for a long time, supporting each other against the shower wall with the water still raining down over you. Until August's skilled ears twitched to a squeak above the patter of water on the hexagon tiles and turned his head. A smirk pulled across his lips as he spied Henry through the clear glass of the shower doors, coming into the bathroom.

“Did we wake you, Hank?” He quipped, as the Brit stepped into the stall with you, a gush of chilly air invading the warm space, making you shiver against August's chest.

“Yes and no.” He replied, dipping his head under the shower head, soaking his curls. “I woke up, when I realized our little Harley Quinn wasn't in bed with me any longer and heard some of your shower fun.” He informed him, shaking his head, to flick the curls out of his face, and moved to stand beside August, looking down at you. “Looks like you're having a nice, little shower, love.” He smirked, seeing the expression of sedated and satisfied exhaustion on your face.

“Mmm.” You hummed back, blinking up at him.

Both men chuckled at you, shaking their heads.

“You look after her, I have to piss.” August told Henry, slipping free of you and eased away, wanting to make sure you didn't fall without his support, before stepping out of the shower to use the toilet.

“Are you all right?” Henry asked, helping you sit down on a built-in, shower bench.

“I'm fine.” You answered, resting back against the wall. “Just didn't expect all of--” You motioned around sluggishly. “This—when I got your mystery invite to the party.”

Henry smirked, grabbing a bath sponge and a bar of vanilla, sandalwood and cardamom soap, from a recess in the shower wall. “That's a fair point.” He nodded, soaping up the sponge and grabbing one of your arms. “In all honesty, I didn't intend this to happen either.” He admitted to you, gently lathering up your skin.

“Well, I did want to be with you. I just didn't expect August to actually join us.”

“The devil made me do it!” August chimed in, coming back into the shower and started to wash. “But I told you, I intended to, if you wooed her.”

“Wooed me!” You huffed, rolling your eyes. “So, the two of you talked about this?”

“Henry needed some prodding in getting the courage to send you the invite.” August informed you, smirking at Henry, who blushed and looked at neither of you. “But we're both quite happy you said yes.”

“That's true.” Henry nodded, moving the sponge across your shoulders, massaging them as he did. “I hope we didn't push you or anything.” He said, biting his lip as he looked you over.

You let out an amused laugh, tipping your head back to look up at the two men, who regarded you. “It's a bit late to be asking that, isn't it?” You inquired, shaking your head, before relaxing and growing serious. “But no, you guys didn't do anything I didn't want or consent to. Even though I was surprised by August sneaking into the room, like some sort of spy.”

Henry and August looked at each other, an expression of acknowledgment between them for a quick moment, before it passed, and they looked away.

“Suppose we should get back to the party.” You said, as Henry finished helping you wash.

“No.” August shook his head and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. “The party ended a short while ago. The guests that are staying over, are in their rooms and those that weren't, have long been ushered off the property.” He informed you, causally.

“Just us, darling.” Henry winked, moving into August's spot to shower himself, carefully removing his devil horns. “Do you want to stay here with us, or would you rather I call Marco to take you back home?” He asked, cocking a closed eyed brow at you.

You weighed the options, watching Henry wash, water cascading around and along every groove and line of his muscular body, activating a tingle deep in your exhausted and sore body. “No need to bother him so late.” You finally answered, eyes shifting to August, who was grabbing towels.

Showered and dried off, You, Henry and August filed back into the bedroom. August called Davison up with a phone in the sitting room, having him bring up a few bottles of water for you all, which you were thankful for, since you were parched. Quenched, you climbed into bed, burrowing down under the sheets in the middle, while Henry and August got in on either side of you. Henry looped an arm around your waist, snuggling you against his chest and August lounged close to you, on his back, allowing you to reach out and lay your hand on his chest.

“Good night, my love.” Henry whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Sleep well, Sugar.” August cooed, patting your hand gently, and kissed your knuckles.

“Good night.” You hummed, letting your fatigue take a hold of you. “Happy...Hallo-ween.” You mumbled, dropping off, happily cocooned between them.

[amphibiahawks321]

Harley : I'll give you... Two hundred bucks and a lollipop, now doesn't that sound fair love bug?~

M!Reader : .....

M!Reader : Your giving me these just so you want me to cover myself in icing and.... Strip dance for you....

Harley : Pfftt! Haha, you're saying it like this trade isn't fair~

M!Reader blushing : ....

M!Reader blushing : Sighs... You weirdly have a point....

[dollcherray]

ㅤ ♡ NEW MAGIC WAND ♡

♡ Harley Quinn dating Cyn reader ⊹˚. ♡

₊⊹ Pst! Cherry says: I don't really do DC nor marvel characters because my acknowledge on the lore and the characters themselves are VERY limited, so i'm just throwing the very little things i know about them out the window here for y'all, and also because electiz is my homie and im opening an exception for them. (dab me up bitch) GUYS IM SO FUCKING NERVOUS POSTING THIS IM LITERALLY TURNING INTO JOKER HIMSELF, LAUGHING LIKE CRAZY CUZ IDK IF ITS GOOD, btw cannibalism mentions and killing overall.

₊⊹ Type: Headcanons, Romantic, Fluff

۶ৎ Song: New magic wand

۶ৎ Oh lord save us

۶ৎ Okay for starters, she is not scared of you, she's more amused than anything, i mean, you both have personalities that are similar in a way, you're both chaotic, you're both very sarcastic, so it wouldn't take long for you two to get along.

۶ৎ Harley is the only person that gets you and your point of view, since you're both "psychopaths" in a way, this makes you have similar views, so whenever you just blurt out one of your psychopathic thought shes like: "me too brah, me too."

۶ৎ While alot of people finds you an absolute freak, Harley is just there admiring you causing chaos and pain, she thinks your just so cute! she can't help it.

۶ৎ Harley thinks you're cute as a whole, your voice, the way you move, your hand habits, your personality, and even the funny way you tear apart and torture your victims in an excruciating way, she thinks there's a little charm when you do it.

۶ৎ The worst thing that happened to Gotham was when you two got acquainted, both of you were already a big hassle alone, so the amount of damage and chaos that is caused when you two step outside is too much.

۶ৎ Doesn't really mind your cannibalistic desires, i mean, it's a little too much even for her but she understands its either that or you die from hunger, just don't do it infront of Harley and its fine.

۶ৎ But sometimes Harley thinks you can go a bit over the lid whenever you kill someone, she knows how deranged and aggressive you can be but its kind of too much even for her, so from time to time she has to remind you to not exaggerate.

۶ৎ Your relationship with her is not bad at all, since you two are pretty much insane and unapologetic, you rarely have any type of conflicts or disagreements with her.

۶ৎ She likes to dress you up, we all know Harley loves wearing colorful and extravagant clothes, but the problem is your totally the opposite, often opting for dark and less flashy clothes, so its very expected for Harley to offer to dress you up (please say yes.)

۶ৎ Likes seeing you covered in blood, thinks you look prettier with it <3

A/N: sorry if this is corny, i dont usually write for this fandom, i did this as a gift for my friend- anyway have a good day <3

[gothamite-rambler]

Batman grounding his adult kids

Nightwing (fidgeting with his hands): I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—

Batman glared at him, causing Nightwing’s voice to trail off as he hung his head in defeat. With a hand on his hip, Batman tapped his foot impatiently and pointed toward the car.

Batman: Grounded.

Nightwing (surprised, dejected): What?

Batman: You’re grounded. Two weeks. Now go to the car.

Nightwing (this man is in his 20s): But… I have a date!

Batman: Grounded. Now sit in the car!

Nightwing looked around for some kind of support, glancing at the nearby villain and anti-hero for help. Poison Ivy and Harley just shrugged, a muted expression of sympathy on their faces as Nightwing stomped past Batman, his usual charm replaced by a sulky pout.

Nightwing (whining and lying): It’s not my fault that he got away!

Batman (in a stern father tone): It's literally your fault. Keep talking, and I’ll extend it to five weeks.

Fuming, Nightwing huffed and marched over to the car, climbing inside and slamming the door shut with a loud thud.

Harley (perplexed, raising an eyebrow): Did you… Did you actually ground him?

Batman: Yep.

The couple exchanged bewildered glances, raising their eyebrows in disbelief at the absurdity they had just witnessed.

Harley: Okay, correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s an adult, right?

Batman: Yep.

Poison Ivy (defending Nightwing): Dude, that is so mean. He made an honest mistake. Don’t you feel any guilt about grounding him?

Batman crossed his arms and shook his head defiantly, his expression unmoved.

Batman: You're only defending him because you two are 'frenemies'. If three villains escaped and it was my fault, you'd be mad.

Harley (leaning close to her girlfriend): He's got a point.

Ivy nodded, the defiance fading as she recognized the truth in Batman's words, though she still didn't like it.

Harley (to Batman): How in the world did you manage to ground a grown man? He seemed genuinely remorseful, and—I’m confused.

Batman: I’m Batman. Duh.

Harley mulled over Batman's nonchalant response before nodding thoughtfully.

Harley (shrugging): Well… you got me there.

Poison Ivy (crossing her arms, her hip shifting to the side as she glares at Batman): Douchebag is too nice of an insult for you.

Batman: Your opinion doesn't mean much to me. Harley is the one who has to deal with your bullshit.

As Batman turned to leave, he casually patted Harley on the shoulder.

Batman: Good luck with her.

Poison Ivy, feigning innocence, promptly flipped him the middle finger as he walked away, a smirk playing on her lips. Harley rolled her eyes with a smile, shaking her head at the antics of her friends.

[strange-birb]

I tried to do the animated series style…. Kind of

I love her