#anyways. finally: imagine straight Harley. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ravewood · 3 years ago

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Please Come get me: pt3

Juice Ortiz Imagine (little smutty)

pt1 pt2 pt4

masterlist

It has been two months since Juice basically kidnapped you or in other words made you stay at his house. At this point you felt like you where going crazy always locked up here alone. You weren’t always alone. Juice made sure there was someone from the club always watching the house if he wasn’t home.

Some days he was home all day with you, but most days he had to work at Teller-Moore or he had to work for the club. The funniest thing he let you do was taking you grocery shopping with him. Besides that, you never left.

You and Juice fell into a routine. Most morning he was up before you, he would make coffee and breakfast and leave it for you before table, which didn’t matter when Juice and you always ate at the island anyway. You made dinner for once he got home. You’d talk about what he did, if he’s found anything.

Some night he would watch a movie with you on the couch. Other nights he would be locked away in his office. Juice made you stay in his room, there was no way he would let you sleep on the couch. You didn’t get why Juice just didn’t make the two extra rooms he head into guest rooms, they just stood their empty with some tech stuff in boxes.

You groaned looking at you phone seeing a text from Juice saying he wont be home tonight. You felt antsy staying here, but you did feel safe. Maybe you could just go for a run, or something to get out. You slipped on some bike shorts and a sports bra. It wasn’t that late, and you where pretty sure the prophet would follow you anyway.

You slowly start running down the street, happily number to the music blasting in your head phones. Maybe you could stop by your house, it wasn’t too far. Maybe a 5 mile run would be good to clear your head.

Juice felt on edge. He still wasn’t sure who was threatening you. He felt over worked between, the club, the shop and you. He sighed as he parked his Harley on the drive way before heading in.

As soon as he walked in he felt something was off. You weren’t in the kitchen, or on the couch. It was too quiet. There was a few things messed up and he knew you wouldn’t have touched it. He pulled his gun walking through the house.

“Y/N?” He called out for you but got no answer. The house was empty. Juice ran outside grabbing the precept the his shirt.

“Where is she?” He asked feeling anger wash over him that he couldn’t hold back.

“I don’t know! I tried to call you for the last hour you wouldn’t pick up.” He said as Juice dropped him to the floor. Juice rolled his eyes before calling your cell. It went straight to voice mail. He had an uneasy feeling making his head spin. He went back in the house going to his office. He pulled up your gps since you won’t answer the phone. He groaned before running back out getting on his bike and heading to your house.

“Y/N!” He called walking into the house. You felt your heart jump out your chest.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him shocked. Your haven’t picked up when he called before.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked crossing his large arms over his chest.

“I just went for a run and find of ended up here gez.” You said copying him and crossing your own arms.

“You can’t be out yourself, it’s not safe!” Juice yelled. He couldn’t hold himself back. He didn’t understand how you could be so stupid and reckless. He would’t know wha tot do if he really lost you.

“I just needed to get out, and did you know about this?” You yelled back pointing at your place. It was trashed.

“Yeah I did. I got their plates when they where here.” Juice said as he started to pull you out. You knew you couldn’t argue with him anymore. You felt tears pooling in your eyes just thinking about it. This wasn’t your home anymore.

“I’m sorry for yelling.” Juice said once you finally got back to his house. He noticed the tears in your eyes.

“What am I suppose to do? Where am I suppose to go after this?” You asked finally letting all the salty tears spill out. Maybe you’ve been holding them back for a little too long.

“Y/N, I got it handled. I am going to deal with them tomorrow. No one is going to bother you, I promise.” Juice said as he tried to pull you back into his arms but you pushed away.

“How’d you even know where I was?” You asked looking at him with those eyes.

“I tracked your phone.” Juice admitted. He didn’t want to start lying to you again. That was the whole reason your relationship ended the first time. He wasn’t about to mess this all up again.

“You’ve been tracking me this whole time? Really Juice?” You asked not sure how to feel about it. It was a overstep on your privacy, you weren’t even together. Juice hasn’t said a word.

“How long?” You asked looking at him with wild eyes trying to search for something, anything in his warm brown ones.

“Since the first time you spent the night at my house.” Juice admitted. He couldn’t hide anything form you now.

“Are you kidding me?!” You asked taking a few steps back trying to get some space.

“I only did it to protect you. I did it for myself. I just- I needed to know you where safe. That’s all I care about.” He said walking towards you.

“How is this keeping me safe?” You asked still desperate.

“If it where up to me you’d never leave my site, but that it not realistic. I’m doing this for me not to go absolutely crazy worrying about you.” Juice said as his hands came down on your forearms pulling you back against him.

“I have no home anymore. I’m always stuck here alone. I’m losing it Juice! What am I suppose to do?” You yelled back hitting on his chest, that didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“Shhh Y/N. Just stay with me, that’s all. We’ll figure it out I promise.” Juice whispered into you hair holding you in a tight hug.

“We can’t pretend to be playing house Juice. I can’t do this.” You mumbled into his chest.

“What do you want then?” Juice asked leaning back a little to look down at you.

“I don’t know Juice.” You whispered. You knew what you wanted but you always knew how unrealistic it was.

“Once I get rid of these guys, We’ll talk okay. I’ll give you whatever you want, even if it’s never to see me again. But please, just think about us. I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But at this point I’m begging for one Y/N” Juice said before leaning down. His lips hovered over your own for a few seconds giving you time to pull away if you wanted to.

Since you didn’t dare move, Juice closed the remaining space letting his lips work against your own. His large warm hands cupped your face desperately and gently holding you. You owns hands your grasping at his shirt pulling him down closer if that was even possible.

“Lets get you home then.” Juice said pulling away. He didn’t want to push his luck with you. He knew you where going through a lot and didn’t want to lay on even more for you to worry about.

As soon as you got back to his house you felt better, safer. You watched Juice took off his Kutte and boots.

“You want dinner? I got Chinese take out, it might be cold by now though.” Juice said walking back into the kitchen with you following him. You both leaned against opposite counter as you ate the cold Chinese food.

“Thank you for being here for me.” You said breaking the peaceful silence.

“I’ll always be here for you, you know that.” Juice said rolling his eyes at you. Even with the break up that didn't mean he didn’t care for you. He still loved you.

“Then why’d you break up with me?” You asked you voice slightly cracking. It was something neither of you talked about. You thought ever thing was perfect between the two of you before, you didn't expect the breakup. It crushed you. He was the one you saw a future with, the only life you’d ever thought about. And like that he took it all away from you.

“I didn’t want to hold you back I guess. I - my life isn’t-I just always fuck everything up you know.” Juice started rubbing his jaw.

“You don’t. You where the best thing that every happened. You where my best friend Juice. Do you know how hard it was just one day no contact from you, like you didn’t even exist. Like nothing we had mattered. I felt like you’ve lied to me, played me. This whole other life you had” You finally let out everything you have been holding back the last year.

“Y/N don’t say that. You where my whole world. I couldn’t drag you into all this shit.” Juice said hating himself for putting you into this situation. No matter what he does it seems to be messing up.

“I’m already in all this shit. You didn’t have to leave me. If you even loved me in the first place, you wouldn’t have just left.” You mumbled not being able to look at him. He looked like a sad broken puppy.

“I loved you, I still love you. I never meant to hurt you, I thought I was doing what was best for you.” He admitted coming closer trying to get you back in his arms.

“You don’t get to decide whats best for me.” You said in a cold tone. You where together, you thought you where suppose to make decision together.

"I will do anything to protect you. You don’t have to agree with it, but know what I do, everything I do is to keep you safe.” Juice said looking down at your big eyes. He has always done everything he could to protect you. No matter what, even if that meant not having you.

“Juice.” You whispered out not knowing what to say anymore. There was no way you could fight him about his, he was a stubborn man. He took another step closing the distance between. His arm wrapped around you waist holding you against him. His other hand came around holding your cheek.

"Your all I have Y/N.” Juice said honestly. He knew he had the club but outside the club he had no one. The club was his only family in a twisted way. But you where all he had, he felt like he had a home with you.

“Can I?” He asked looking down at you with pleading eyes. You nodded your head just a little not able to speak. Juice without hesitant bent down placing his lips against yours. You knew you shouldn’t be kissing him. Your hands gripes his shirt desperately as you pulled him closer.

Maybe it was everything that was pent up over the past your was finally tipping over. And with these two months of living together both avoiding to touch the other like the plague. Juice knew he couldn’t hold himself back if he got too close to you. You had this over whelming hold over him since the day he first saw you in town.

Juice pushed you into the bedroom, you both now, missing clothes. the thing cotton fabric of his boxers and your panties where the only thing standing in the way. He gently but forcefully pushed you on the bed, finally breaking apart form your lips, from your body.

“Tell me to stop Y/N.” Juice begged standing between your legs. He knew if this line was crossed he wouldn’t be able to go back. He knew he wouldn’t be able to let you go again.

“I don’t want it to stop.” You whispered feeling so bare in front of him. That was all Juice needed before getting on top of you pulling you lips back to his. God how he missed you.

“I wont be able to let you go Y/n” He mumbled between your lips as his hands pulled away any remaining cotton fabric.

“Good.” You mumbled back pushing your hips against his. You could feel Juice groan before you felt an over whelming warmth sep through you. Juice slowly let him inside letting you adjust to him. He couldn’t help but groan at how tight you where, how dripping wet you where. He had to know you needed him just as much as he needed you.

“Your all mine. Your soul...your body,” Juice said as his brown eyes bore into yours. He moved slow but hard pushing deep into you as if he where torturing you. Your hands gripped his upper arms nails digging into his tanned skin.

Juice knew better then letting his mind race into thoughts of nothing, especially when he was with you. You knew how to read him inside and out. He didn’t want to share you. He needed to know you where all his. This year apart tore him into insanity as his thoughts where always laced with you.

The darkest parts of his mind bringing him into thinking you where with someone else. That some other guy got to touch what was his. It only made him more insane.

“Juice! uh-” You moaned out as he was hitting deep inside rubbing and pushing against your g spot. He knew your body, every inch, every mark and every curve.

“Tell me!” He huffed out his hand coming to your throat as your eyes rolled back.

“I’m yours Juice - AH no one.” You stumbled out between deep moans as he finally picked up the pace.

“No one.” You whispered out your eyes locked onto his warm but burning brown ones. He knew what you where telling him. It only made him grow harder inside of you. He had to know that no one had what was his.

“Cum for me baby.” Juice said as he was looking down at you unraveling under him. It was his favorite site to see. Your long messy hair, your body slightly glossed over with sweat. Your cheeks bright pink , your lips pouted as moans escaped. Your back was arched as your tried to push even closer to him. He knew you where close as your tight trembled every time he pushed back inside you. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, he was already holding himself back as much as he could.

Your moans echoed in his mind as he felt the knot explode inside of him. He kept moving as you where shaking under him. Both of you where a complete sweaty and wet mess as he fell back into the bed next to you.

“That was nice... really nice.” You whispered still not able to catch your breath from what just happened.

“Tell me you love me?’ Juice asked almost demanded. He was lost in his mind, you could tell. You let out a small chuckle before rolling over letting your body hug onto his side. your hands went to tracing the tattoo on his chest.

“I love you Juan Carlos, I never stopped. Don’t be stupid.” You said placing a few kisses on his chest, his neck and to the corner of his lips. He was too smart, he got lost in his own mind, in tornado of thoughts that would take him away from reality sometimes.

“I don’t know why you do, or how lucky I was for you to see pay me much of a second thought. I’ll pay to whatever God it was that put you in my life. But I can’t let you go now, you know that. I don’t know what I would do if you stopped loving me. I don’t think even then I’d be able to let you go Y/n” Juice said not being able to look into your eyes. He knew how crazy he probably sounded but he had to tell you what you where getting yourself into.

“I know.” You whispered pulling him to look at you. You missed this man so much, you weren’t sure how you where even living day to day without him. It was all a blur.

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gellavonhamster · 4 years ago

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ghost stories

Suicide Squad (2016) || characters: El Diablo feat. everyone else || post-canon, sort of a fix-it

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2016 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.

Harley is the first to see him.

She catches the smell first. Something appears to be burning, and she checks cautiously if there is something wrong with the coffee machine. She doesn’t find anything suspicious – not that the appliances about to flame up smell like that anyway. Could it be that there’s a fire starting? That would be funny, but seems like there’s hardly a chance. It is the smell of a bonfire at the beach, of the fallen leaves being burned in the yards in fall, of a melting candle in the church; weirdly, all this at the same time. A smell that seems too pure for Belle Reve, for Gotham, for everything that makes up her life these days.

Harley looks around once again – and springs to her feet like she’s been stung.

Chato Santana is standing next to her cage.

“Diablo?” she whispers, unable to believe her eyes. She would’ve thought she’s lost her marbles if there were any left to lose.

“Harley,” says Diablo, and it’s his voice, his shy, sad smile, his eyes and his tattoos, and Harley squeals in delight as she rushes to him. The bars of the cage are live, so she only dares to stick out the tips of her fingers. He touches them with his hand – certainly alive, certainly not a product of her mind being tortured by boredom and monotony – and she laughs.

“You’re alive, alive, alive! How did you survive? And how did they let you in?”

“It’s a long story. And I don’t think I have much time,” Diablo looks guilty. He’s still holding her hand and looking at her so earnestly it’s almost worrying. “Harley… don’t go with him.”

“Huh? What do you mean, honey?”

“He’s coming here. Don’t leave with him, Harley, stay. It sounds strange, but this would really be for the best.”

“Don’t leave with whom?” she can’t follow him. He gives her a melancholic look – and suddenly disappears. Without any smoke or flames or any other special effects. She can’t wrap her head around how it happened – it’s just that he was here a moment ago, and now there’s no one beside her, and she’s reaching out towards nothing.

“Diablo?” she calls, and when she gets no answer, she decides to get things straight by asking the guards. What kind of cruel joke is this? Only one person is allowed to joke here, and that person is her. “Hello there! Mister jailer, yoo-hoo! Where’s my friend?”

No one is in a hurry to respond. Finally, one of the armed-to-the-teeth guards approaches the cage.

“Why are you yelling, lady?”

“Where’s my friend?” Harley asks petulantly. “He was here just now, and we didn’t finish talking. Where did you take him?”

“There was no one here.”

“What do you mean ‘no one’? I just talked to him!”

The guard examines her from head to foot. Looks like he’s chewing gum, which, combined with his empty apathetic stare, makes him look like a cow.

“Definitely crazy,” he sums up, and leaves. Irritated, Harley forgets to take caution, hits the bars and falls down on the floor right away, writhing in pain.

“Well, well, well,” she whispers, playing the recent events over in her head. Chato was very much corporeal – not a ghost, then. Yet the guards didn’t notice him, and then he vanished into thin air. Harley thinks about the being Chato transformed into by the end of the battle – an ancient one, as if straight from the walls of some Aztec temple. Could some petty bomb kill such a being? Could the Enchantress’s brother have survived too?

“I am friends with a god,” she informs the ceiling. “Incredible.”

About an hour later, her Puddin’ comes for her, and she forgets the advice Diablo gave her.

Croc sees him on the night of the same day. He knows for sure that it is night thanks to the TV listings – the only reference point for time and days of the week that he has. Not that it was bothering him too much, truth be told. Monday or Sunday, every day in Belle Reve is a carbon copy of the day before. However, Croc doesn’t complain. He has a roof over his head, water, food – even better food than he used to have in the sewers in days gone by – and a TV, and it is honestly not too hard to do without such extras as companionship and fresh experiences. Still, he is glad to see Diablo. Even though first he lunges at him with his fangs bared, because he doesn’t immediately recognize him and supposes that Waller and company are sick of feeding him and decided to kill him. Or to put someone else in his quarters, which would have been no less audacious.

“Croc, it’s me,” Diablo hastens to say, and lights up a flame over his left palm – so unusual and out of place in the dampness of Croc’s cell. Croc freezes and watches the flame for some seconds. That must really be Diablo; there are hardly many people in the world capable of such tricks.

“Hey, man,” Croc says. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Just checking up on you.”

Well, that must definitely be Diablo. Croc knows that there are hardly many people in the world who’d care to check up on him, but that sounds like something El Diablo would do. Back then, during the mission, he was friendly, asked “You okay?” after each skirmish, and could clap him on the shoulder without shuddering. And there are definitely even less people in the world that would touch him willingly.

“Did they just let you in like that?” wonders Croc. Diablo gives him a slight smile.

“They don’t know I’m here.”

“So you’re, like, a ghost?” Croc asks. It occurred to him from the very beginning, but it sounds particularly joyless when said out loud.

Diablo gestures vaguely. “I’m still figuring it out myself, to be honest.”

“Hmm,” Croc glances over his cell. A bag of food on the cot catches his eye. “You want a burger?”

“Nah, I’m good. Save it for yourself.”

“They’ll bring more today, I’m telling ya.”

“Then I want one.”

“Then you’re not a ghost,” grins Croc, and the fact that Diablo doesn’t flinch or try to look away also proves that this is the real Chato Santana, because most people don’t like seeing Croc smile.

And so he and Diablo, who kind of is a ghost but kind of isn’t, sit there eating burgers and watching some crap on MTV. Life has taught Croc not to be surprised by anything, so everything’s fine.

“So what happened after the bomb went off?” Croc asks. Diablo opens his mouth, and then closes it again, apparently at a loss how to explain.

“I was smoke,” he speaks finally. “Then I was flames. Then I became myself again.”

“I see,” Croc replies, although, of course, he can’t see shit.

“Who are you talking to?” comes the guard’s voice from behind the door. “Hey, scum!”

Croc puts the burger aside.

“Wait a bit,” he tells Chato, gets up, and heads for the door.

When he comes to the bean hole, the guard already looks like he regrets calling him.

“No one,” Crock smiles as widely as only he can, and the guard, who isn’t among the people able to watch him smile without blinking an eye, steps back reflexively. “But come inside, and I’ll talk to you if you wanna. How about that?”

When he turns around, Chato has already disappeared, and Croc could have assumed he has dreamed it all, but there are two half-eaten burgers on the cot, not one.

Digger sees him next, and he isn’t even amazed. The bastards keep drugging him with all sorts of shit to calm him down. Usually after the shot he just lies there, feverish, and can’t even move, let alone stand up, but who knows, perhaps they’re testing some new poison on him. Or they’ve started using something stronger because they noticed that a couple of hours after the usual stuff he’s already able to yell, bang at the door, and do everything he can to get the best of them while cooped up inside. Or it’s simply that there’s already so much of this shit in his blood that it’s impossible not to have any screws loose, try as he might to keep them in place. In any case, he’s not exactly shocked when, as he tosses and turns on the floor after another injection, he turns his head and sees El Diablo, large as life and twice as ugly.

“Fuck me sideways,” Digger says. He doesn’t have any energy to be mad yet. “I must be tripping.”

“You’re not tripping,” Diablo objects.

“You died. So I must be.”

“I didn’t die either.”

Diablo sits down cross-legged on the floor next to him.

“Has it crossed your mind that if you stop getting on their nerves, they might start treating you better?” he asks.

“Go to hell.”

“Message received.”

There’s a footfall outside; a whole bunch of people must be running somewhere.

“They’ve turned the entire joint upside down,” says Digger, because it’s been ages since he has spoken to anyone who’d at least pretend to listen, so a hallucination will do. “Blondie escaped.”

“I know,” Diablo replies gloomily. “I tried to warn her not to go with the Joker, but she didn’t listen to me.”

“Why warn her?” Digger asks. Harley Quinn is no bosom friend of his, but she kind of tore out the heart of the witch who kind of tried to end the world, and anyway, teammates probably should take interest in each other’s lives. Probably. He’s never really made sense of that teamwork stuff. “What’s he gonna do to her?”

“At best, what he always does.”

Two tiny figures of fire appear on Diablo’s open palm – a man and a woman. The man backhands the woman across her face, and she falls down. Digger watches the dancing flames with fascination, and meanwhile in his head, bit by bit, stroke by stroke, a plan starts to take shape. He wouldn’t be Captain motherfucking Boomerang if he fails to use any opportunity that turns up – even a ghost of one.

“Listen, mate,” he begins cajolingly. “If you’re really here and it’s not just me tripping… help an old friend out, won’t you? I’m fed up with being stuck here, you know.”

“I’m not gonna help you escape,” Diablo says calmly. “How do you imagine that would even happen?”

“Can’t you just burn the entire Belle Reve to the bloody ground?”

Diablo smiles.

“I can,” he admits. “But I won’t.”

The next thing he knows, the son of a bitch is gone without a trace. Anger and offence must be giving Digger strength, because he manages to leap to his feet. Like a lunatic, he thrashes around the cell, looking for at least some kind of proof that someone else was here a moment ago.

“Oi!” he shouts, knowing damn well that the guards have long stopped listening to what he has to say. “Grab the devil! A convict escaped! Hey, wankers!”

But he’s feeling lightheaded, and this shit must be really strong, and he collapses, badly hitting his head.

Tatsu sees him next – late at night, in her apartment. She’s a light sleeper, and wakes up as soon as she hears footsteps. The sword is close at hand, and she grabs it instantly, blade swishing through the air.

“Who’s there?” Tatsu asks, and then repeats in English. “Who’s there?”

There is nowhere to hide in her bedroom. The only furniture is the mattress and the pair of chairs she uses to hang her clothes on. Everything is on the floor or on the windowsill – weapons, her laptop, the book she tried to read before going to sleep but could not concentrate on. It is an ascetic, comfortless dwelling that does not look permanent and is not supposed to become so. Fate and Amanda Waller, though, seem to have other plans in this respect.

There is nowhere to hide in her bedroom – but someone’s definitely walking in the antechamber; she flings the door open – and sees El Diablo, standing by the entrance and looking around. In a blink of an eye Tatsu is next to him, and the blade of the Soultaker is pressed to his neck.

“Katana, it’s me,” Diablo says, unfazed. “Chato Santana.”

“Chato Santana is dead,” she says through her teeth. Chato Santana was a gangster who killed, albeit by a tragic accident, his own family – but she fought side by side with him, he sacrificed himself to save the world, he called their squad his family and died for them. That is enough for her not to let anyone use his name as a cover. “Who are you?”

“I’m alive,” Diablo replies. He puts his hands up to show he’s unarmed, and forks of flame appear on his palms. “Or sort of.”

Sort of.

Tatsu lowers the sword and looks warily at the man standing in front of her.

“How did you…”

“You’re gonna have a new mission soon. Demand that Waller tells you everything.”

“About what?”

“I couldn’t overhear that,” he says with regret. “But…”

Something knocks on the window. Tatsu turns around quickly, but that must’ve been just a tree branch hitting the windowpane. When she turns back to Chato, he’s already gone, and her apartment is silent.

It’s just four in the morning, but she can’t make herself fall asleep again. Having poured a cup of tea, Tatsu sits down on the mattress and thinks, think, thinks about what just happened. Tatsu believes in ghosts – her sword is teeming with them, so she wouldn’t say that her worldview is shaken. Still, this is strange, very strange. What did he want to tell her? Why did he disappear so abruptly? Like… a broadcast was interrupted.

Colonel Flag calls her at daybreak and tells her that there’s a shoot-out between two gangs on the outskirts of Gotham, with metahumans on both sides. When Tatsu arrives at Belle Reve, it turns out they must have considered it to be not enough to ruin her Saturday morning, because she is asked – more like ordered, actually – to escort an inmate from his cell, an inmate who attacks anyone who tries to enter and has already injured three guards with his bare hands, and it’s not reasonable to sedate him before the mission, and “he’s likely to obey if it’s you, Katana” – the last is Rick’s argument, and if he told that to her face and not on the phone, she would have had to strain every nerve not to hit him with something.

No one tries to attack her when she enters the cell of Captain Boomerang – Harkness is sitting on the floor quite still, his arms around his knees, and when he notices her, he even smiles with bruised lips.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says. “Am I hallucinating you too?”

“No,” the question is unexpected and confuses her. “Why?”

“Well, they keep injecting me some crap, and lately I’ve been seeing things,” Harkness explains peacefully, even eagerly. His voice is quiet and hoarse, which, combined with his Australian accent, leads to Tatsu being barely able to make out half of what he’s saying. To hear him better, she crouches down next to him, still gripping the sword hilt – there is no telling if he isn’t just making her come closer to take her down and bolt. “Saw the devil yesterday.”

“The devil?”

“Our devil. Día… de fucking Muertos. Chato Santana.”

Tatsu gives a shiver and, having lost her balance, half sits down, half falls on the dirty floor.

She isn’t the only one to have seen him. She isn’t the only one he wanted to send a message to.

“Hey, luv,” Harkness frowns and reaches out to touch her knee lightly. “You all right?”

“Same as you, more or less,” she wants to reply, which of course would mean she isn’t, not at all.

“What did he tell you?” she asks him instead.

When Floyd sees him, he is hardly surprised, since the others have already warned him. Boomerang, Croc, and Katana tell him everything while they’re waiting for the helo, and had it been just Boomerang, who believes inexplicably that he has a sense of humour although he certainly doesn’t, Floyd most likely wouldn’t have believed his ghost stories, but it is even harder to believe that Croc, let alone Katana would agree to take part in such pranks. Which is why he listens to them closely and takes note: okay, then he doesn’t have to worry about his mental heath if the late Santana suddenly appears out of nowhere to give some advice or share some news or simply ask how he’s doing. So the four of them keep whispering to one another like kids at the back of the class until their transport arrives – just the four of them, which is a pity. If there is anyone on the team that he had missed a little, it’s Harley. Floyd knows some things about the Joker, for it isn’t possible, as they write in the papers, to belong to the criminal world of Gotham and not know anything about the Joker. Floyd knows what Flag had spilled to him when visiting him in his cell or escorting him there after a visit to Zoe. Floyd thinks that in his entire lifetime he hasn’t understood a thing about love – is it even possible to understand it, on the other hand? – but he feels like the mad and brilliant Harley, Harley the whimsical, Harley the loving deserves better.

“What’s with the gossiping?” Flag inquires suspiciously.

“Nothing!” Croc and Digger answer in unison, in unison, and Floyd facepalms because seriously, are they in some cheesy movie or what? They don’t tell Flag anything yet, but Floyd is almost sure that sooner or later Santana will visit him as well, because Flag is one of them too, after all. Not that he’s even trying to deny it; no one’s making him drop by Floyd’s cell every other day to chat about some nonsense through the steel door.

So Floyd is hardly surprised when, as he makes his way behind the dumpsters loading one gun after another, he notices a familiar, head-to-toe-tattooed figure standing nearby.

“There are snipers on the roof over there and around the corner of the shop,” Chato says instead of greeting. Floyd nods.

“I noticed.”

“Eight men in the drugstore on the other side of the street. Each with a machine gun.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve just been there.”

“Got it,” there’s no time for lengthy conversations. No time to say: glad you’re alive, man. No time to ascertain: are you alive, though? So he thinks over the plan of action, making a mental note to ask all these questions later, when there are no bullets whistling past their ears.

People like them deserve no guardian angels, frankly speaking, but they may have managed to earn one for all of them.

#suicide squad #el diablo #harley quinn #killer croc #captain boomerang #katana #deadshot #rick flag #dc #talk talk talk #my fic #gella talks skwad #this might have been the most challenging to translate so far #i'm so used to bookish slightly outdated speech and most of my fandoms allow that #and then bam modernity. ugh #also i know nothing about the geography of the dceu!united states. sorry about that.

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organabanana · 4 years ago

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Leaves of three, let it be [1/?] || harlivy

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: DCU (Comics)DCUHarley Quinn (Comics)Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel

Characters: Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Selina Kyle

Additional Tags: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of batman fucking bats, most of this is straight up idiocy tbh, i just finished watching the cartoon so everyone swears like a sailor i'm sorry, rated for (ahem) happenings later on, ivy/harley/catwoman frenemies

Series: Part 1 of the Cliché a Week 2021 series

Summary:

Aided by a terrible hangover and a severe lack of impulse control, Harley accidentally drinks an unknown substance at Ivy's apartment and suddenly remembers why Ivy goes by Poison Ivy in her professional life. Luckily for Harley, she's immune to Ivy's toxins. Unluckily for Harley, she may not be immune to her love pheromones, and turning into a human-plant hybrid is not her idea of a good time.

Telling Ivy so she can give her an antidote may seem like the obvious course of action, but there are very few things Harley hates more than disappointing Ivy with her poor decision-making skills. Besides, like Selina said, if she'd drunk pheromones she'd be in love with Ivy by now, right?

And Harley Quinn is absolutely not in love with her best friend.

Notes:

This was (loosely) inspired by Prompt #1104 by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor: “Hey, do you know if potions expire?” “I think it depends on the potion. Why?” “Well, I was really hungover this morning and grabbed the wrong glass and I feel super weird right now.” And "Everyone knows they’re dating except them” from the Cliché A Week Challenge by @montocalypse. The plan is for this to be 4-5 chapters at most BUT I'm not ready to commit to a number just yet so we'll see how that goes!

[ao3 link]

Harley wakes up with a pounding headache that makes her wonder if someone stole her bat and tried to crack her skull with it last night.

"Ughhh..." she groans, squeezing her eyes shut. Her mouth feels like sandpaper. Her throat feels like... like sandpaper. Listen: she's not in any kind of mood for elaborate, imaginative similes right now. Everything is pain and/or sandpaper. Deal with it.

"Fuck me." It comes out in a whiny, pathetic little voice, and Harley is almost more pissed off about that than about the hangover itself. Where is she, anyway? She forces herself to sort of... perceive the world around her without moving a muscle or opening her eyes, which may not be the best approach but it works anyway because she totally knows Ive's apartment by smell.

As friends do.

Once that's settled, and she knows she's in fact safe (how could she not be? She's at Ivy's!) Harley moves her right hand and feels around for the bedside table, but apparently she didn't climb into her usual side of the bed (friends have sides of their friends' beds, obviously) because what she feels on her right side is soft and warm and definitely not a bedside table.

"Sorry." She mumbles, affectionately patting Ivy's ass before turning over to the other side and trying again. She does find a table this time, and she nearly cries in relief when she finds a little water bottle waiting for her parched lips to drink.

Score.

It's only when she's downed the whole thing that she realizes two things:

One, that did not taste like water.

And two, there is a reason Pam goes professionally by Poison Ivy.

"Shit," Harley stage-whispers, blue eyes now wide open as she stares at the empty bottle in her hand, "shit, shit, shit."

Harley knows she's not dying. She knows she's immune to toxins, and she's cuddled the fuck out of Ivy (as friends do) on enough occasions to know she doesn't break out in hives at Ivy's touch. But the thing about Ivy is, she's kind of an overachiever. There aren't just toxins to worry about. Harley could be about to turn into a fern or something, and nobody could do anything to prevent it.

Well, except Pam.

But you know what? Considering the kind of mood Ivy gets in when Harley makes a less than stellar choice, she's gonna risk turning into a plant rather than waking her up.

"Morning, sunshine." Selina walks -- nay, prances -- into the bedroom looking flawless as always, which is pretty fucking unfair considering her presence at Ivy's can only mean she was there for whatever hangover-causing shenanigans they all happened to get into last night. But of course, Selina Kyle is above looking like shit while hungover.

" Selina ," Harley all but hisses (which is fitting, considering Selina's... you know), showing her the empty bottle, "I fucked up."

"When do you not fuck up, Harley?" It comes off as both smug and somehow charming, which is, again, pretty fucking unfair. "What did you do this time?"

Harley shows her the empty bottle once again, shaking it slightly like she cannot believe Selina isn't getting the gravity of the situation right away.

"What? I don't get it-- ohh ." Selina lets out a quiet chuckle that sounds almost like a purr. "Yeah, you fucked up."

"Dammit, Selina! What if I turn into a fucking succulent?"

"Oh come on, don't be dramatic. What color was it?"

Harley stares at her. "Don't you think I'd have known not to drink it if I'd looked at it?"

"I mean, I tend to assume people look at things before putting them in their mouth. But you did fuck Joker, so..."

"Hurtful." A beat. "Fair, yes, but still. Hurtful."

As if on cue, Ivy rolls over in her sleep, draping her arm across Harley's lap. Harley smiles, momentarily forgetting the bottle and its contents and the potential result of her having drunk them, because Ivy is just such a good friend. Protecting her from Selina's... well. Selina-ness even in her sleep.

"You guys need some privacy?"

Harley doesn't stop gently tracing the vines on the back of Ivy's hand, but she does look away from soft green skin to shoot Selina a teasing look. "Aw, does someone need scritches? Here, pussy pussy..."

Selina rolls her eyes. "Fine. Turn into a fucking sequoia for all I care. At least you'll be good for climbing."

The soft movements of Harley's fingers stop as Selina's words fully sink in. "Wh- what?" Harley's voice sounds a bit deflated, like one of those sad clown balloons after a sad balloon fart.

"I'm just saying. Pheromones and chill forever as a human-tree abomination? Kind of her signature move."

Harley just stares at Selina, horrified at the prospect of spending the rest of her life as a brain-dead tree and trying (and failing) to come up with a plausible reason why there is no way Ivy's pheromones were in that bottle.

"Anyway!" Selina sighs, stretching her arms up over her head. "I should get going. I have cats to feed."

"Wait. Wait!" Harley stage-whispers, and she's suddenly extremely thankful for Ivy sleeping like a log.

Heh. Like a log .

"You can't leave me, Selina! What if you're right?"

"Oh, come on, kitten," Selina says over her shoulder, already on the way to the door, "if it was pheromones you'd be in love with her by now."

The sound of the door slamming shut behind Selina is enough to finally wake Ivy, and Harley feels her best friend's arms tighten around her as Ivy stretches awake.

"Mmmhey, Harls." Ivy mumbles, voice rough and heavy with sleep as she moves even closer to Harley.

Normally, Harley would've just sunk back into the most comfortable bed ever (there's a reason she rarely sleeps in her own!) and gone in for a round of lazy morning cuddles. She'd have basked in the smell of Ivy in the morning (freshly cut grass sparkling with dew drops) which is so different from the floral notes of Ivy at any other time of the day. She'd have pressed a kiss or two to Ivy's warm skin, felt her lips tingle with the sweet taste of a poison she's very much immune to, and maybe even fallen back to sleep listening to Ivy's heartbeat and the soft rhythm of her breaths.

You know. As friends do.

But today, thanks to Selina (the fact that nobody forced Harley to drink that stupid bottle is irrelevant, of course), Harley can't relax. She stiffens, even, becoming virtually un-snuggable and making Ivy fully open her eyes to give her a questioning look.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, Ive!" The enthusiasm is as fake as her smile, and the way Ivy's eyes narrow tells her it's been very much noticed. "Bit hungover, that's all."

It takes a couple of seconds for Ivy to speak. Like she's pondering whether to mention there's never been a hangover bad enough to keep Harley from getting her cuddle on or to just let it go for now. Harley's delighted to see the second option win in the end.

"Want me to give you something for the headache?"

"Nope!" Harley's on her feet in two seconds flat, practically jumping away from Ivy's warm body and her warm eyes and the warm offer of some nice natural drugs. "Thanks, though. You're sweet as pie, butter...fly."

"Butterfly." Ivy deadpans from the bed, looking more and more like she's mere seconds away from researching actual mental health facilities in Gotham (Arkham does not count).

"Buttercup doesn't rhyme with pie. Listen, I should go. I have so much to do. There are-- well, you know! Havoc won't wreak itself, right? Gotham needs me."

"To... wreak havoc."

" Pre cisely. Gonna wreak it real good. You know me! Won't settle for a half-wroken havoc."

"Wro... ken?"

"Oh, for sure, for sure!" What is she even saying? Harley grabs her bat and swings it a little like she's holding a purse and not a weapon, but thankfully she doesn't break anything in Ivy's room, which is great. "Text ya later, yeah?"

Ivy looks like she's struggling to even begin to process everything that's happened in the five minutes she's been awake. And honestly, Harley's grateful for it. She hasn't noticed the missing bottle, and she's not forcing Harley to stay and answer questions, so it's a win/win/win situation if you ask her. You know... other than the potential mutant tree issue.

"Okay!" Harley grins. "Good talk. Bye, Red. Love ya!"

Shit .

Harley freezes for a moment. She's told Ivy she loves her before. Of course she has! She loves Ive, and Ivy loves her. They're pretty vocal about that. But today isn't just any other day. She always loves Ivy as a friend, of course. As her best friend she adores and would absolutely kill and die for. The most important person in her life. The one person who's ever made Harley feel safe and loved and appreciated unconditionally. She loves Ivy in a way that makes her feel like her heart is a bit too big for her ribcage and sometimes it gets so crowded in there she's afraid she may pop a rib out of its socket or something, but then Ivy holds her and everything settles again.

You know. A friendly kind of love.

But does she love Ivy? Harley looks at her hands like she's expecting a few leaves to have sprouted there already.

"Harley. Seriously, are you okay?"

Ivy's voice snaps her out of her funk, and Harley knows she needs to get out before she's forced into a whole conversation about this thing.

"Peachy keen, Pam-a-lamb." Harley forces herself to walk towards the door without looking back, just in case. Just in case suddenly Ivy's surrounded by a pink fog of love, or whatever the fuck people see when they look at her while under the influence of her pheromones. I mean, she can't look even more beautiful than she does normally, right? That's not even possible. So it must be like... a heart emoji filter or something. She really doesn't want to find out. "Talk later!"

***

Harley looks at the melting cheese on her third egg sandwich like she's expecting it to hold the meaning of life. Or, at the very least, an answer to today's big conundrum. Is she or is she not turning into a tree?

And sure. Sure! She could ask Pam. This would be solved immediately, she knows. She could just ask Pam what was in the bottle and confess she's drunk it and just... put up with her mood for a while. No big deal! Except she really fucking hates disappointing Ivy, you know? When she gets all... cold and detached, and feels more like lettuce than lush tropical foliage.

Listen, trust her, okay? Sad salad buffet lettuce Ivy is just the fucking worst.

So she takes a bite of her sandwich and tells herself whatever she drank can't have been anything too dangerous. It's been a couple hours now, so she should've felt some kind of effect, right? She should be feeling a bit plant-y, at the very least. Maybe a bit nauseous or something. But she feels fine.

Well-- not fine , fine. She's still kinda rattled, but that's Selina's fault.

She's fine.

***

"Are you sure you're up for this?"

Ivy lets Selina handle the entry point (you'd think Gotham millionaires would've given up on skylights by now) and looks at Harley with a mixture of concern and distrust in her eyes. She clearly hasn't forgotten about their conversation in the morning.

"I'm fine!" Harley swings her bat around just to loosen up her bat-swinging muscles. She's fine. Not a plant, not in a love fog, not in any way dying. Totally fine. And , most importantly, not dealing with limp lettuce Ive. "It was just a hangover."

Ivy's eyes narrow just enough to make it crystal clear how little she trusts Harley right now, but for once Selina Kyle makes Harley's life easier instead of harder when she speaks.

"Ladies. This is a truly riveting conversation, but I have shit to do.”

“Like fucking a bat-fucking bat?” It may be a cheap shot, but it makes Ivy stiffle a laugh, and Harley kinda thinks that makes it the best joke ever.

But Selina simply cocks an eyebrow at Harley. “Are you sure you want to discuss regrettable sexual partners?”

Ouch. “Fair enough,” Harley concedes, already jumping through the hole Selina’s cut in the glass, “come on, we have an oil tycoon to kill.”

“Not an oil tycoon, Harls.” Ivy glides down on a vine, looking all majestic like some kind of forest nymph, and Harley simply has to stare and smile because how can she not? Look at her friend! “He’s been using an experimental fuel that causes—“

“Does it matter?” Selina sighs like even interrupting Ivy is exhausting, plucking a shiny gold ornament from a nearby table and making Harley wonder (honestly, not for the first time) if she just keeps shiny trinkets hidden in her catsuit like a magician to make it seem like she’s finding them everywhere. “Guy’s loaded.”

“It matters to me, Selina. Not all of us have the moral compass of a magpie.”

Harley giggles at Ivy’s joke. You know what? It may not even have been a real joke, because Ivy’s sense of humor is not exactly her best quality. But it was funny anyway.

“And if it matters to Ive, it matters to moi .” Harley points at herself with her bat and winks at her best friend, and honestly, who the hell cares what this guy does, exactly? Maybe he’s single-handedly destroying the Amazon, or maybe he just happens to walk through the grass instead of using the little paths when making his way across the park. Whatever it is, it’s important to Ivy. And if it’s important to Ivy, it’s important to Harley. And if it’s important to Ivy in a way that makes her smile like she does when Harley winks at her? Well, then this is absolutely Harley’s top fucking priority.

Things get interesting as soon as they turn a corner and step onto the plush carpet of the experimental fuel (hey, she actually listens when Ivy speaks) tycoon's private wing. And you know what? Harley's delighted to hear the alarms go off and a bunch of goons crawl out from their hidey holes like buff armed cockroaches. She knows Ivy and Selina prefer the whole... well, you know. In and out, clean and easy kind of approach to murder and robbery, respectively. But Harley's an action gal. She has the energy to burn and a bat to swing, and most of all, she has shit to not think about.

So she's delighted when this guy's goons happen to be relatively okayish at fighting, which is much more than can be said for most men she fights in this city.

"I'll go deal with him before he can escape," Ivy says, already walking towards the door to his office. "You guys all right out here?"

"We're great ." Selina says in that tone she has where she pretends she's annoyed but you can tell she's having a blast.

Honestly. Who wouldn't be having a blast? It's like whack-a-goon!

"So," Selina says as soon as Ivy's out of earshot, which Harley can appreciate as an act of friendship, "no pheromones, I take it?"

"Nope!" Harley punctuates the word by slamming her bat into some guy's face. "None at all."

"Huh."

"What?" She's distracted enough by Selina's reply that she actually takes a punch to the face, which only manages to piss her off. She turns to look at the guy who delivered the blow just so he can see the look in her eyes before she completely obliterates his face. "Holy shit, dude. Can't you see we're having a fucking CONVERSATION !?"

For the next few minutes, Harley focuses on getting rid of the last few men around them so they can finish talking. Sure, beating up idiots is fun, but that little 'huh' was just mysterious enough to grab Harley's interest. What could possibly be so huh-worthy about her being fine?

By the time they're done, there are a number of unconscious goons scattered all over the place. Harley pants, using her hand to wipe blood (mostly not hers) and sweat (mostly hers) off her face as she catches her breath.

"Whew. That was fun, right?"

Selina, as usual, manages to look spotless even if Harley saw her deal with several men with her own two eyes. Is Selina Kyle secretly magic?

Could be.

"I've had better." Selina uses one of her claws to unlock an ornate little box and gather the jewels inside. Can she smell expensive stuff? "Come on, let's go get Ivy."

"No, no, wait." Harley lowers her voice like she's scared Ivy may hear them somehow. "What did you mean earlier?"

"What do you mean, what did I mean?"

"You know," Harley motions in the general direction of the spot where Selina was when they were talking before, "with the huh."

"The what ."

"The huh, Selina! The huh!" Dark olive eyes narrow in confusion (and annoyance), and Harley groans because she can't believe Selina Kyle is being this thick. "I said no pheromones. And you said huh."

"Oh, that." Selina uses a polished silver platter as a mirror to reapply a lipstick Harley is frankly not sure where one would even carry in a skin-tight leather jumpsuit. The more time she spends with Selina, the more convinced she is she just doesn't abide by the laws of physics.

And the more time she waits for Selina to elaborate, the more Harley realizes she just... isn't going to, apparently.

"Uughhh!" Harley groans and uses her bat to smash a nearby sculpture. "You're killing me, Selina! What the fuck did you mean!?"

Selina cocks one perfectly manicured eyebrow (Harley can tell it's happening under the mask) and gives Harley a look like she can't believe she'd have the audacity to speak to her in that tone.

"I meant," Selina's tone is a warning, like she wants to make it clear she could have made Harley suffer more if she wanted, but she's choosing not to, "I found it surprising. You looked a bit loved up to me."

"What? Pffft." Harley lets out a chuckle and nudges one of the pieces of the sculpture with her foot. "Cut back on the catnip, Selina."

Loved up. Ridiculous. Does she love Ivy? Of course. Is she loved up? Of course not . There's no heart emoji fog. None at all.

"If you say so." Selina gives her A Look. The kind of look says she doesn't believe Harley, and she wants Harley to know that even if she won't engage in an argument about it right now. Selina Kyle can say a lot with one look.

For a moment, Harley considers pushing the issue. She could insist. She could give her a list of reasons why she's absolutely not loved up at all whatsoever. She could tell Selina how what she shares with Ivy is actually true friendship, and Selina would know if she was capable of bonding with anything other than cats and jewelry. She could tell her how there's nothing even remotely mind-foggy about her feelings for Ive (she could bring up she's seen that mind fog in action the many times Ive's put Batman under her spell, even). Harley could tell Selina how her brain always feels a bit foggy in a vague kind of way -- just foggy enough to keep Harleen quiet and let Harley take the wheel -- but being with Ivy makes her feel more lucid, more real , than anything else in the world. How when Ive says she loves her Harley feels it right in her bones, in the very marrow of them, in the deepest, darkest, longest-forgotten parts of her brain where no other feeling can ever reach.

She could tell her how wildly different all that is from a silly potion-induced love fog. But she doesn't think Selina would understand their friendship even if Harley actually spelled it out. So she doesn't.

Instead, she silently follows Selina towards the office where Pam's been doing her thing. Where Pam's still doing her thing, actually, and Harley can't help but smile and lean against the doorframe to watch her best friend doing what she loves most (after Harley) in the world: eco-conscious murder.

"I fucking swear ," Ivy hasn't realized they're there, so she must be talking to what Harley can only assume is the tycoon himself even though only one of his legs can be seen outside the enormous mouth of a very happy-looking carnivorous plant, "how hard is it to not print out e-mails? Look at all this shit. Do you know how many trees had to be killed so you could print out your shitty... whatever the fuck this is?"

Ivy groans like she's frustrated she can't use her powers to just will all the papers scattered everywhere to turn back into trees. There are vines everywhere -- like nature reclaiming the furniture and the walls and the floors and really every surface of his office. There's a strange beauty to it, Harley thinks. Haunting, like those pictures of abandoned buildings covered in grass and moss and weeds. Even when she's angry -- and oh, she's angry right now -- Ivy really can't help but make the world a more beautiful place, can she?

Even when she was on the other side of the reinforced glass, wearing her glasses and her white coat, Harley never fully understood why Poison Ivy was lumped in with the rest of the psychos in Gotham.

Harley doesn't know how long she stays there. Selina's happily working on the safe next to the carnivorous plant, and Harley's more than content to just watch Ivy in her element for a while.

And then, it happens.

Ivy's going on a rant about a bunch of single-use coffee cups she's found in the trashcan by the desk when she suddenly stops in her tracks. Harley can't see what she's looking at until Ivy turns around with a small flower pot in her hand, a sad-looking, mostly dry plant limply hanging off its side.

"Fuck him."

Ivy touches the plant and her brow furrows, and Harley knows she's feeling the thirst and the pain in the little plant as if it was her own. "You're okay now," Ivy says as the plant starts to recover, and her voice is so soft -- so full of love for a dry, nearly dead plant -- that Harley swears she feels her heart grow at least a couple sizes. She watches her best friend breathe life into a little plant, watches it turn from brown to green, brighter and taller, watches it sprout new leaves that make it look like it's stretching after a long sleep. And then she watches a bright yellow flower bloom, and when Harley finally manages to tear her eyes away from the flower to look at Ivy instead, she swears she feels her heart stop dead in its tracks.

Ive's always beautiful. Always, without fail, no matter what time of day or night, lounging at home or brooding in an Arkham cell. Pam is beautiful always. But Harley doesn't think she's ever seen her look more beautiful than she does right now, with her hair slightly disheveled after a fight and some blood (not at all hers) splattered on her face and clothes. It's the way she's smiling at that little plant. The way her smile grows and softens when she notices Harley looking at her. Harley's so enthralled by Ivy that she doesn't realize what she's thinking until it's been running through her mind for a while.

God , Harley's in love with her.

And that's when she realizes. That's when she hears the proverbial record scratch in her brain and her eyes widen in horror because there it is. There's the pink fog before the botanical mutation, right? I mean she can't exactly see a literal pink fog, but she may as well. She can feel her heartbeat all over the place. The butterflies in her stomach. The nearly all-consuming need to grab Ivy and kiss her until neither of them can breathe.

"Shit. Shit, Red, shit, shitshit shit ."

Ivy's no longer smiling. At all.

"Oh God, Pammy. I fucked up." Harley feels her eyes well up with tears as she rushes towards her best friend because this is no longer a hypothetical: this is happening. She did drink something dangerous. And suddenly keeping Ivy from finding out and getting mad at her feels less important than fucking surviving. "I fucked up, Ive, I drank a potion and now I'm turning into a fucking plant, please tell me you have an antidote."

"Harley. Harl, look at me." Ivy looks so genuinely concerned Harley's sure the ridiculous amount of love she can see in green eyes must be part of the potion's effects. She's hallucinating, isn't she? "What potion? You're immune, Harley, you know that. Calm down."

"No, no! Not poison, I mean--" Harley shakes her head but has to stop when Ivy places her hands on Harley's cheeks to hold her head steady and look into her eyes like she's wondering if Harley's on drugs or something. "I mean a love potion, Ive! Shit, I thought it was water and I just drank the whole thing and I thought maybe it was nothing because I felt fine but now I know for sure I fucked up because I'm so in love with you like-- just feel this!" Harley grabs one of Ivy's hands and moves it from her cheek down to her chest, pressing it right where her heart is still skipping all over itself. "Right?"

"I-- I don't-- Harl, what potion ? You're immune to all of my--"

"The pheromones! I don't know what it was! God I'm such a fucking fuck-up and now I'm just-- shit I hope I at least turn into a rhododendron bush or something because I don't want to be a succulent, Ive. Don't let me turn into a succulent." Harley's really crying now, black mascara running down her cheeks and staining Pam's hand as she struggles to breathe through her words. "I know I should've told you but I didn't want you to be disappointed and now I'm in love and it's just-- Selina, you tell her!"

"Selina?" Ivy turns around like she's just realized Selina is still in the mansion, let alone in the room with them. "What's going on?"

Harley was expecting Selina to tell Ivy exactly what happened that morning. She was expecting Selina to tell Ivy all about Harley being an idiot who drinks things without looking first, about the pheromones and chill, about Harley's refusal to tell Ivy right away. Instead, Selina looks... almost like she's the one who's been caught in a lie.

"Selina, what the fuck did you do?" Ivy's voice sounds like she's mere seconds away from feeding Selina to the plant, too. Harley can feel the anger like tingles where Ivy's hands are still pressed against her skin. "What did you give her?"

Selina lets out a sigh. "Margarita mix."

"What?" Harley feels a lightbulb go off inside her brain. That was the weird taste when she drank whatever was in that bottle. Fucking margarita mix. But just.. "Why? What the fuck, Selina? Why would you let me think it was pheromones? I know Batman doesn't actually fuck bats, probably. Come on, it was a joke! Mostly!"

"Will you relax?" Selina sounds like she can't believe Harley may be a bit agitated after spending a whole day thinking she's going to die and/or mutate into a plant. "I'm sick of watching you two idiots pretend that ," she points in the general direction of Harley and Ivy, "is just a couple of gals being pals. Figured I'd help you out."

"Help!?" Harley could just-- God , she could just smash Selina's face in with her bat. But she suddenly realizes there's a much more pressing issue to handle before revenge can even begin to be considered. "Shit, Red," Harley takes one step back to look at Ivy, and for the first time ever she's surprised to see she can't read the look in her eyes, "I didn't mean-- you know I didn't mean any of it, right?" For a split second Harley swears something like pain flashes behind green eyes, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. "I was just worried and I-- I got in my head about it. But you know I didn't mean it. You know , right? Pammy?"

It takes Ivy a few seconds to answer, and when she does she sounds... different. "Yeah. Yeah, I know."

For some reason, it doesn't sound as reassuring as Harley though it would.

"Come on, Ive--" Selina tries to keep talking, but Ivy cuts her off.

"Listen, we're done here. So I'm just gonna..." Ivy shakes her head like she's trying to physically clear it of thoughts and feelings and general clutter, "I'm just gonna go home."

Harley feels like she's stuck to the floor. She just stands there, silent and frozen in place as she watches Ivy leave. She knows this isn't right. She knows something just happened -- something she can't quite wrap her brain around right now. All she knows is Ivy's leaving, and she wants her to stay but she doesn't know how to make her body move or make any noises until her gaze drops to the desk and she sees the little plant right there.

"Ive!" Harley grabs the pot and runs out just in time to see Ivy's vines lifting her up through the same skyline they used to get in. "Ivy, you forgot the plant!"

But Ivy doesn't come back.

#harlivy #harley x ivy #fic #harley quinn/poison ivy #cliche a week 2021 #this is my first chaptered fic i can't guarantee it won't be a hot mess #comics #dcu #poison ivy

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asterekmess · 4 years ago

Note

Honestly imagining a teen wolf plot sans Scott would be kind of interesting, because even if Stiles didn't have a bff who got bit there is still a good chance he'd end up involved somehow? He is curious, he keeps up with his dad's work, his dad is involved in these mysteries anyway so Stiles could very likely latch on to them as a thing to solve regardless of personal werewolfy stakes. 🤔

Also I wonder who his friend(s) would be if he didn't have Scott. Would he have someone else as close? Would he only have mostly friendly classmates? Would he go to the forest if he didn't have anyone to go with to make it a "fun adventure"? Would he meet Derek? If so, how? Would he be targeted by Peter or Kate for being nosy? If so, what happens then? Things would still happens, Stiles' curiority and his dad's role as Sheriff would still be a driving force for him to get involved, but it would be from a completely different angle than the original plot.

Sorry for rambling in your inbox, I just find this all such an interesting thing to puzzle over 😅

You make a good point! Stiles would be involved in the plot regardless, just because we know he talks to his dad about work and noses his way into the details. As for Stiles’ friends sans Scott, that’s a good question. I mean, he says in S1 that Scott ‘dragged him down to his nerd depths,’ so if we believe him it’s possible Stiles would be relatively popular compared to how he is with Scott. We know he’s friends with Harley, we know from later seasons he’s got Heather and has been close with her for years. He is still on lacrosse, we don’t have any reason to believe he wouldn’t still join the sport on his own, and some of his issues with befriending team members seems to stem from sitting on the bench all the time. What’s interesting is Stiles gets put on the field without any discernible difference in his behavior. He doesn’t do any extra practice or show any new skills in lacrosse, but the minute Scott gets on first line, Stiles gets tossed on ‘on a probationary basis’ and then he gets put in during the final because he’s straight up Better than Greenburg. He’s clearly got some skill and it appears to have Always been there, which begs the question of “Did he refuse first line/bomb his tryouts in order to stay on the bench with Scott?” If Scott weren’t around, would Stiles have been on first line earlier? All signs point to him having plenty of friends were Scott not around, but I’m not sure who his ‘best’ friend would be, or who would be willing to follow him into the woods. Honestly, Jackson seems like the mostly likely candidate. Except for the Lydia thing, he and Stiles are painfully similar in temperment and humor, and Jackson’s exactly the kind of pompous dumbass who would go into the woods with Stiles. Of course, he’s also far more athletic than Scott was, so he likely wouldn’t fall behind and would be caught with STiles and therefore Wouldn’t get bitten. but hey, friends! Besides, I think Stiles would definitely meet Derek no matter what. I’m just a romantic like that. *sigh*

#personal #meta ramblings #go for it #Anonymous

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petersasteria · 4 years ago

Text

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield (12)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist || Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER: *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

Special thanks to: @blueleatherbag and @dudethisvoid for being so helpful

This is the longest chapter here so far.

Click pictures for better quality

𝐈𝐭 has been one hundred and twenty hours out of one hundred and sixty-eight. Harley and Amadis' mission only has forty-eight hours left. In mortal time, they've consumed five days out of seven which means they only have two days left.

Amadis has been stuck in Prague for three days now. He was glad that Saint Christopher and Saint Thomas Aquinas were accompanying him. If not, he'd feel insane going on this Prague mission alone.

"So, what's our plan today?" Saint Christopher asks as he likes Saint Agnes' photo on Instagram. Saint Thomas Aquinas looks over and nods, "God has favorites, I swear."

"I know right!" Saint Christopher huffs.

"It's unfair, dude." Saint Thomas Aquinas rolls his eyes. "He says he loves us equally and that we were made in His image and likeness. But why aren't some of us as good looking as the other?"

"I'm sure God has reasons." Amadis chimes in. "Anyway, we'll be going back to London tomorrow so that it's not suspicious."

"What do you mean?" Saint Christopher asks.

"Tom Holland flies back to London today. It would be suspicious because if I left the same day Tom left. I went to Prague the same day Tom went and that's enough coincidences." Amadis explains. The two saints just shrug and continued on beating boredom by being on their phone.

"Ugh, I hate cyan!!" Saint Thomas Aquinas huffs. He looks at Saint Christopher and Amadis and says, "I'm playing this game called 'Among Us'. Download it so we can all play."

Saint Christopher and Amadis look at each other and shrug. What have they go to lose? They're bored, anyway. So, they download the game.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐔𝐊

Thomas Stanley Holland arrives at the airport with his best mate, Brad Simpson.

"Are you sure you don't want a ride, mate? Y/N isn't here." Brad states as he looks around for the girl. Tom sighs, but reassuringly smiles at his best friend, "It's alright. She's just running late. Traffic sucks, you know."

Brad nods, "That's true. I hate it. Anyway, I'll see you soon."

"See ya!"

They give each other a quick hug before Brad gets in his car. Tom waves a goodbye before he looks around for Y/N and pulls out his phone to text her.

"I'll just wait for her for five minutes. She's just late." Tom whispers to himself. Alas, five minutes have passed. Five turned to ten and ten turned to fifteen. As time passed, Tom has been staying at the airport for one hour now.

Tom huffs and angrily strides to where the taxis are. However, Tom isn't aware of the line as he walks straight up front and tells the person in charge, "I want a taxi. Now. Make it snappy."

"You want a taxi?"

"Yes. I believe that's what I said. Don't make me repeat things." Tom rolls his eyes and fixes his coat.

"Get in line, then." The man says as he points at the line behind Tom. Tom looks at the line behind him and his jaw drops at the long line.

"Oi, you heard the man. Get in line, mate!"

"I beg your pardon?" Tom gasps.

"Back in the line, cunt!" One shouts from the back.

Tom holds his head up high as he walks to the back of the line. He has never been so embarrassed in his entire life. He feels humiliated and by the time he reaches the end of the line, his face is all red from shame.

A few minutes later, he finally gets a taxi going to the city. He checks his phone only to see no texts from Y/N. He clenches his jaw and puts his phone in his pocket.

Thirty minutes later, he arrives at the city. He pays for the ride and gets out. Now, he didn't know where to go. He looks around and he realizes that he doesn't know how to get home.

"I'm fucking screwed."

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄

"Who the hell is the impostor??" Saint Christopher mutters under his breath as he plays 'Among Us' on his phone.

Saint Thomas Aquinas holds back his laughter and continues to play the game. Amadis focuses on the game and sighs when the impostor kills him.

"Aight, I'm dead." Amadis announces. "My body is in the storage room." After he says that, his phone starts ringing. Amadis looks at his phone and his eyes widen, "It's the big guns upstairs!"

"No way-!" Saint Christopher shouts.

"I know right! He never calls me!" Amadis panics.

"I can't believe I got killed in the game!" Saint Christopher groans. "And I especially can't believe Saint Thomas A. killed me!"

The saint just looks at him with a devious smile, "I had to do what I had to do and Amadis, if I were you, I'd answer the call."

Amadis sighs and answers the phone, "Hi God!"

"Let's switch to FaceTime." God says.

"He-"

"I gave that Tom Holland kid one hell of a karma." God says. "He doesn't know how to commute and stuff."

"Oh. Thanks, God." Amadis says.

"No problem. How's Prague?" God asks, fully invested in their mission. Amadis looks up from his phone to see the two saints learning the dance to 'Ice Cream' by BLACKPINK and Selena Gomez.

Amadis looks back on his phone where God is waiting for a response, "We're good. How's heaven?"

God shrugs, "We're alright up here."

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐒' 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐍, 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐔𝐊

"You got everything already?" Harrison asks as he watches Y/N walk around to check if she has everything. Y/N looks at him and nods, "Yeah. I guess I should get going now. Sorry I can't babysit Harley with you today."

"I can't babysit him either." Harrison sighs. "Timmy's watching him, though. Harley's excited."

"That's good to hear!" Y/N grins. "I'll go now."

"Alright." Harrison says. She walks up to him and gives him a hug, "It was a pleasure babysitting Harley with you."

He hugs back and smiles, "Likewise."

"Hugging without me, I see." Harley jokes. He joins the hug and frowns when he realizes that he may never see Y/N again. As if reading his mind, Y/N pulls away and kisses Harley's forehead, "I'll see you soon, alright? You're not getting rid of me anytime soon."

"But what about that man on th-"

"Harley." Harrison interrupts and gives Harley a pointed look as if telling him to stop it. Harley looks at him and changes the topic, "I'll see you soon!"

Y/N smiles, gets her bags and leaves. Harrison turns to Harley and asks, "Alright, are you ready to hang out with Timothée?"

"Yup!" Harley grins and grabs the allowance envelope from the table where Harrison placed it earlier this morning when Finn dropped it off.

"Good! Let's go!" Harrison takes his bag and leaves with Harley. The two of them exit the apartment building and walk to a café not too far from the apartment.

"Timmy works here, but it's his day off today." Harrison tells Harley as they enter the fancy café. Harley looks around in awe and stares at the display case with all the pastries he couldn't pronounce and never heard of.

"Psst!" Timothée says quietly and motions for Harrison to come over. Harrison smiles and taps Harley's shoulder before pointing at Timothée. The two of them walk to where Timothée is and they sit with him in the booth.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen." Timothée says in a posh accent. "I'm a wealthy and posh man sitting here in a posh café, waiting for my equally wealthy friends."

Harley giggles and Harrison shakes his head with a chuckle. Timothée laughs and goes back to his normal speaking voice, "What's up?"

"You already know." Harrison says. "You'll watch Harley. Y/N and I can't watch him today and no one else is available."

"Geez, you sound like an actual dad." Timothée laughs. Oh, if he only knew. "But yeah, this lil' guy and I will have fun! I'll make sure of it."

"Great! Thanks a lot, mate. I owe you one." Harrison grins. He stands up to give Timothée a quick hug and he kisses the top of Harley's head before saying goodbye and leaving.

"Is he a good dad?" Timothée jokes as he takes a sip of his coffee.

'He favors my siblings more, but now that I'm here in the past, I can see that he's great. The most selfless person I've ever met, actually.' Harley thinks to himself. Suddenly flashbacks of his few moments with his father came to mind.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟒

Harley didn't understand why he was staying with his grandparents. All he was told is that his parents will go to the hospital because his little sister was coming. He brushed it off and played with his grandparents.

The next day, he and his grandparents went to the hospital to meet the new baby, his sister, whom he already disliked because of the way his mum looked at her. His grandfather placed him on the ground and he frowned. He frowned even more when his grandfather paid attention to the baby instead.

Oh, how he loathed that day. To his unluckiness, this went on for a while. He was neglected by everyone. For a short time, even his uncle Tom paid attention to the baby which surprised him and he felt betrayed by his favorite uncle.

One day, his mum and his baby sister, Harper, were fast asleep in the bedroom and Harley was in the living room playing with the toys his uncle Tom bought for him all the way from Japan. Harley suddenly wasn't amused by his imported toys anymore and he just laid down on the couch and opened the tv to watch his favorite cartoon.

Harrison emerged from his office and went to the living room, "Harley, where's your mum? I have something to ask."

"In the room... with the baby." Harley said sadly. Harrison frowned at his eldest. He didn't know why his son was upset. He walked towards Harley crouched down in front of him, "What's wrong, buddy?"

"No one loves me anymore." Harley said and he cried. Harrison had no clue where that came from and he asked again as he wiped his son's tears away, "What makes you say that?"

"No one plays with me anymore and everyone plays with the baby and not me." Harley cried. "I hate you. I hate mum. I hate grandma and grandpa."

"You're sad about that?" Harrison said softly. "Harley, just because we spend more time with the baby, doesn't mean we love you less. We spend more time with the baby because the baby needs more attention. A baby cries all the time and they can't take care of themselves because they're not big like you."

Harley didn't say anything. He just sniffed and wiped his tears. An idea came to Harrison's mind, "How about we hang out today? My work can wait, alright? We can go to the park or the ice cream shop down the road. Isn't that fun?" Harrison coaxed his young son. It worked, though.

"Ice cream?" Harley asked.

"Yeah. Do you want that?" Harrison asked and Harley smiled and nodded quickly. "Let's get you dressed then!" Harrison smiled and picked him up as they went to Harley's room.

That day at the ice cream shop and the park was spectacular. Soon, it became a tradition every Saturday.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟕, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟔

"Harley, let's go! It's time for school." Harrison shouted from the front door. It was Harley's first day of school and his parents could tell that he was nervous. His parents didn't want him late on the first day.

Tiny footsteps were heard coming down the stairs and Y/N smiled at the sight of her little boy looking all dressed up. "Darling, you look amazing!" Y/N grinned as she adjusted Harper in her arms. Harper was now two years old.

Y/N leaned down and kissed the top of Harley's head, "Good luck, alright? I'll pick you up after school and please behave!"

Harley nodded and practically ran to the car. Y/N pecked Harrison's lips and bid him a goodbye as well.

"I'll see you when I get home. I'll be home at seven." Harrison said before kissing Harper's cheek.

"See you at seven, my love." Y/N said with the look of love on her face. They've been married for three years and things between them were getting better and better as each day passes.

"See you at seven." Harrison winked and left to open his car and help Harley in.

On the drive to Harley's school, they listened to Disney songs on shuffle. 'Un Poco Loco' from Coco came on and Harley grinned and cheered. Harley even did his best grito.

Harrison glanced at him for a second through the rearview mirror and smiled. He turned up the volume a bit and he heard Harley sing.

"What color is the sky? Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. You tell me that it's red. Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. Where should I put my shoes? Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor. You say-"

"Put 'em on your head! Ay, mi amor. Ay, mi amor." Harrison sang along which made Harley let out the cutest giggle he's ever heard.

Harley did the cutest air guitar action before singing again, "You make me un poco loco, un poquititito loco. The way you keep me guessing. I'm nodding and I'm yes-ing, I'll count it as a blessing that I'm only un poco loco!"

It went like that every morning. Harrison would drive him to school and they'd have a karaoke session of Disney songs in the car. Harrison didn't mind having Disney songs stuck in his head as long as his son was having fun. He didn't care that his colleagues were looking at him weirdly as he quietly sung to himself. The other day, he earned a look from his friend at work when they caught him quietly singing 'Into The Unknown' from Frozen 2.

A few months later, Tom bought Harley his first guitar and paid for his guitar lessons. Tom may have bought the guitar and paid for his lessons, but Harrison was there through every breakdown whenever Harley couldn't get a note right. Harrison was there through Harley's highs and lows until Harley got better and better. Tom may have took credit for buying Harley a guitar and paying for guitar lessons, but Harrison took credit for being Harley's first critic and audience.

That's why years later, it broke his heart when he wasn't able to go to his son's first talent show.

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟑𝟎, 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 𝟗; 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘

"Harley, wake up." Harrison whispered. "Harley!"

Harley stirred awake and groaned, "What?"

"It's Mother's Day. Do you want to help me make breakfast for your mum?" Harrison asked nicely as he watched Harley sit up.

"Sure." Harley yawned as he got out of bed.

"Great! I'll meet you in the kitchen." Harrison smiled and went downstairs. A few minutes later, Harley comes down and they begin to cook breakfast for Y/N.

Harrison was glad that he was spending time with his son that day. Usually, Harley would be eager to go spend his weekends with Tom. Both of them would go abroad for the weekend and then comeback at Sunday in the afternoon.

An hour and a half later, they were done cooking and setting the table. Y/N walked down the stairs with Harper walking beside her. They entered the dining area and gasped at the sight.

"Happy Mother's Day!" Harrison and Harley said enthusiastically.

"Aww, thank you so much!" Y/N teared up.

"Mummy, don't cry." Harper frowned. Y/N chuckled and wiped her tears, "I blame the hormones."

Harrison chuckled, "You're blaming your pregnancy hormones for crying?"

"Yes." Y/N chuckled as she instinctively put a hand on her bump. She was five months pregnant. Harrison crouched down a bit and spoke to the ever-growing baby in Y/N's womb.

"Hey there, little one! It's Mother's Day now and we're celebrating. I can't wait for you to come out so that you can celebrate with us next year. I love you. Oh and this is daddy, by the way." Harrison said as everyone chuckled.

Harrison stood up straight and led Y/N to the table and helped her sit down. "Harley and I made breakfast. You're welcome." Harrison said as he sat down after helping Harper in her seat.

"Thank you! I appreciate it." Y/N giggled.

The doorbell rang and Harley got up to get it. "Uncle Tom!" Harley shouted gleefully.

Y/N looked at Harrison and gave him a small smile, "Harley loves you. Remember that."

"I'm not his favorite person in the world, though." Harrison said with a sad smile on his face. "Let's eat!"

Tom entered the house with the biggest bouquet of flowers anyone has ever seen. Harper gasped and said, "Wow! Pretty flowers!"

"Indeed, they are, Harper!" Y/N breathed. She couldn't recover from the shock when she saw the flowers. "Hi, Tom! What brings you here?"

"I thought I'd pay my second favorite mum for a visit! These flowers are yours." Tom said as he looked to the side to see everyone. "I'll put these in the living room."

Tom made his way to the living room and placed it on the coffee table. Harley closed the front door and went back to his seat. Tom quickly jogged to the dining area and placed a quick kiss on Y/N's cheek.

"Happy Mother's Day, love." Tom said with a smile. He looked at the food and said, "I'm impressed! I assume Harrison cooked breakfast."

"Yes and Harley helped." Harrison said as he and Harley looked at each other with big grins on their faces.

"That's great! Anyway, I'm taking my mum out today and I was wondering if this pretty lady," Tom winked at Y/N, as he pulled out his phone to text someone. "Would like to join! It's just a quick trip around France. We'll be back at six. We'll use the jet."

Tom looked at Harrison, pointed at his phone and mouthed, "Check your phone."

Tom looked up from his phone, smiled at Harrison and mouthed, "You're welcome."

Harrison turned to Y/N, "Love, I think you should go. It'll be fun! My Mother's Day gift to you is cleaning up around the house. So, go enjoy Paris."

Catching on like the smart kid that he is, Harley agreed, "Yes, mum! In fact, take Harper with you."

"I can watch her while we're at Paris. I'm very very capable of taking care of Harper." Tom said with a grin. Y/N looked at all three of them and shrugged, "Alright. I needed a break, anyway."

While Y/N and Harper were at Paris to spend Mother's Day with Tom and Nikki, Harrison and Harley were planning a small dinner party for when they get back. Needless to say, everyone enjoyed themselves that night.

"You and your dad make a great team." Tom said to Harley that night at the party. "That's good. I think both of you should team up often."

"But I already have you to team up with." Harley said.

Tom chuckled, "Yes and you will always be my teammate. But you and your dad are the best team. We're just a close second. I think it's time you should see that. I never had with my dad and you're lucky to have him as a father."

"I guess we do make a great team." Harley trailed off.

"Yes and you should be proud of it." Tom said and ruffled Harley's hair.

Unbeknownst to them, Harrison was listening to their conversation and somehow, it reassured Harrison that his relationship with Harley was alright; everything was okay. After all, he was a good father and a good husband.

"Harley!" Timothée says, snapping Harley out of his daydream. He chuckles, "I asked what you want to eat and what you want to do for today. I work here, so I get discounts for food and drinks and stuff like that. Take your pick, little man."

Timothée smiles and slides the menu towards Harley. Harley browses through the menu and tells Timothée that he wants a slice of red velvet cake and a glass of cold chocolate milk.

"You got it, buddy!" Timothée smiles and calls for a waiter. Joshua, Timothée's colleague, happily takes their order and says, "I'll be back in a minute with your orders."

"We appreciate it, man. Thank you." Timothée says with a smile. He turns to Harley and asks, "Anything you want to do today?"

Harley shrugs, "We could go to the park or something."

"Ever been to a cruise?" Timothée asks. Harley shakes his head. Timothée smirks, "We'll take a cruise, then. It's just a short cruise on the Thames."

Harley's face lights up and Timothée chuckles. Joshua comes back with Harley's order and Harley starts eating.

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄

Thomas Stanley Holland arrives home, surprisingly in one piece, at eleven in the evening. He somehow got lost. He took the wrong buses a bunch of times, there was no signal on some places, then his phone died, he ended up having tea at Bristol. Then when he took the train to go home, he accidentally got off at the wrong stop and when he turned back to get in the train, it already left.

Long story short, it was not his day.

Seeing Y/N in their shared bedroom watching something on Netflix made Tom's blood boil. The maid quickly brings in Tom's suitcase and quickly leaves. The maid sensed a fight brewing and she felt the need to warn her fellow workers that their boss will yell any second now.

Y/N finally sees him and smiles, "Hi, love. Welcome home!"

"Don't 'hi, love' me!" Tom raises his voice. All he could see was red. "Where the fuck were you?! I called you and texted you! You said that you were going to pick me up at the fucking airport!"

Y/N stays quiet.

"Were you with that fucking kid again?! I fucking bet you were! Who even is that kid? What makes him so special that you care about him so much? I'm you fiancé, dammit!" Tom shouts.

Y/N's face contorts in anger. She's had enough. The last straw was bringing Harley into their fight. Harley was innocent.

(A/N: Tom's thoughts are in bold.)

"Don't you dare bring him into this!" Y/N shouts, standing up from the bed. "He's not at fault! I volunteered to watch him for a few days because I wanted to and I needed a break! I needed a break from you, from work, from Saoirse, and from fucking wedding planning!"

"It's OUR wedding, Thomas! OUR WEDDING. Not just mine. So if you won't help in fucking planning, I might as well get married to myself!" She yells.

"You're always out partying with Brad and you always want me to be home at a certain time so that I could look after you or something. I have a life too and I want to bloody live it!"

"These past few days have been a great retreat for me and it was amazing. It was away from everyone I knew and I deserved that. Saoirse's acting like a bridezilla and she's not even the bride!" Y/N shrieks. "How fucking dare she complain about the centerpieces when she won't even fucking glance at it on the wedding day itself! FUCK YOU, SAOIRSE!!" She paces back and forth.

'Tell her off, then! What do you want me to do? Talk to her? I bloody hate her too.'

"And your fucking bodyguards are always around me like they're vultures and I'm their prey! I hate it! Why do you even need them?! You're not a fucking Hollywood star!"

'Yes, but I'm a CEO, darling. My life is always, always at risk. Have you seen the movies about people like me getting captured? Probably not. Go rest and watch them and you'll understand.'

"Oh, and I hate that you don't like my friend, Florence! She's so kind! Kinder than Saoirse and better, actually."

'I didn't say I hated her. I just said that her way of living was weird. She owns a karaoke bar and she lives in a shoebox apartment even though she could afford anything more expensive than that. I didn't prohibit you from hanging out with her, did I?'

"And my friend, Harrison, apparently applied for your fucking company-"

'Who? I've literally never heard of him. I don't call my applicants by their name. I call them based on what I see.'

"-as a social media manager and you didn't even hire him! Now, he has to do part time jobs and shit to get by!"

'Ahh, I know him. He's the guy that applied for social media manager with worn out shoes and an old jacket that I assume was a hand-me-down. I didn't hire him because he didn't look the part. My apologies, darling.'

"Then you're mean to Harley?! What did he ever do to you? He's only ten years old!"

'He did nothing, but he took you away from me. You don't even answer my calls when you're with him. I take that personally.'

"You know, if this is how you behave when I babysit, what kind of father will you be?" Y/N sighs in a frustrated manner. Tom stares at her and purses his lips. She grabs her phone and charger and leaves their shared room.

"Where do you think you're going?" Tom asks.

"Guest room. I don't want to sleep next to you, right now." She says. "Sometimes I think you're only with me for sex because that's how we fucking solve everything before. Well, not this time. Good night, Thomas."

She slams the door and hurriedly walks to the guest room to get some well-deserved shut eye. Tom huffs and lays down on the cold bed and immediately goes to sleep due to all the exhaustion. However, even asleep, Y/N's question haunts him in his sleep.

"You know, if this is how you behave when I babysit, what kind of father will you be?"

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wow 4.4k words

𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @abrielleholland @silencetheslaves @imeanlifesabitshit @joyleenl @hjoficrecs @blueleatherbag @poguesholland @harryismysunflower @justanothermarvelmaniac @lonikje @lizzyosterfield @itstaskeen @ilarbu @turtoix @badreputationlove @starlight-starks @swiftmind @sovereignparker @pearce14

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @marvelousell @justasmisunderstoodasloki @rubberducky-jrr @petersholland @osterfieldnholland @miraclesoflove @god-knows-what-am-i-doing @perspectiveparker @hollands-weasley @itstaskeen @call-me-baby-gir1 @the-panwitch @iamaunicorn4704 @chloecreatesfictions @holland-styles @halfblood-princess-505 @spidey-reids-2003 @herbatkazmiloscia @whatthefuckimbisexual

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield #haz osterfield fanfiction #haz osterfield fanfic #haz osterfield fic #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

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davidmann95 · 4 years ago

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Comics this week (3/10/2021)?

cheerfullynihilistic said: Comics this week (03/10/21)??

adudewholikescomicsandotherstuff said: This week’s comics?

Anonymous said: Comics?

Anonymous said: 3/10 NCBD?

Non-Stop Spider-Man #1: The lead story was fun, the backup was dopey, I’ll give it another issue or two to see where it goes.

The Immortal Hulk #44: While it was too late for this week I’ve taken Hulk off my pull list, so the store won’t order any copies specifically for me and therefore my future purchase of the book won’t support Joe Bennett’s presence, just the store. This issue is typical of some of the books’ weaker installments of the last year or so - feels like well-done regular superhero comics instead of Immortal Hulk - but those last couple pages bring it back around.

Daredevil #28: Holy cow, those King In Black issues actually mattered. God this book is still so fuckin’ good in so many ways, everything every dumbass street-level superhero ‘deconstruction’ wants to be when it grows up.

Children of the Atom #1: Sucks real bad! This weird combo of ‘hip new young Marvel heroes!’ trappings and soulless X-Men lifer comics execution that feels certain to appeal to neither group.

Eternals #3: Of the listed Deviants I imagine I’d relate most to Annoyed Veug.

Commanders in Crisis #6: While I remain without the ability to weigh in on this objectively, this is the issue that to date most feels like it lives up to the promises of the series premiere.

The Wrong Earth: Night & Day #3: Little disappointed personally with the reveal of what the third world is - I assumed it was going to be more of a straight take ‘modern’ version to the other two’s flavors of throwbacks - but this series still rules. And that ending.

Home Sick Pilots #4: Okay, I think I can follow what’s happening at this point, still enjoying it.

Proctor Valley Road #1: I review these books in the order I present them to my dad since he likes DC/Marvel/Other to each be lumped together, but make no mistake: this is the last of the three Morrison books to read this week, because this is what comes next for them. A return to their roots - 70s kids way into music and dealing with the weird, girls adventure stories of the kind they apparently grew up reading - this feels like a refinement of their mid/late-00s Vertigo work in the same way they’ve been iterating on their superhero material for decades. The horror is sold excellently, whether by their own efforts or thanks to cowriter Alex Child this is their most fluid, ‘real’-sounding dialogue perhaps ever, and Franquiz with Bonvillain are instantly among their all-time best collaborators, perfectly capturing the shifting tone and character acting necessary to best put Morrison’s big ideas over in a way a number of their collaborators haven’t lived up to over the years (and speaking of the visuals, Jim Campbell does the lord’s work with that lettering trick near the end). Ritesh Babu and Sean Dillon have a lot more to say about the book and how it already acts as a darker, more honest take on your Stranger Things and the like as a commentary on its times, but I’m already loving to see this particular return down to Earth for Morrison and company and I’m glad to hear this is selling really well compared to their previous indie work.

Dead Dog’s Bite #1: This actually came out last week, but Ritesh recommended it so I figured it might be worth a look. A so far intensely low-key missing persons mystery with a touch of surreality around its edges, this already looks to be the best “look! A nine-panel grid! Fancy!” comic since Mister Miracle, really lived-in and emotional for as little happens in this debut. Very curious where it’s going.

Rorschach #6: I continue to like it.

Batman: Urban Legends #1: Glory be, a good Jason Todd comic - at last, you noble stubborn weirdoes living off of like six nonconsecutive panels all these years, you may lay down your burden. Not all you’d necessarily hope from Zdarsky tackling Gotham after what he’s been doing with Daredevil but rock-solid work regardless; the Harley story is fine, Outsiders is a letdown after Thomas’s shockingly good showing for them in Future State but it’s still fine, and the Grifter stuff is fun.

The Joker #1: I thought the advertised ‘a Joker story from Gordon’s POV’ angle was an interesting one even if I was concerned this book would in practice be pure editorial mandate, but in reality? Tynion has managed to pull the wool over DC’s eyes and do a full-on Jim Gordon book (one predicated with him being off the force to make it reasonably comfortable read in 2021) with Joker as the barest of pretexts to get it out the door and selling for as long as he wants to continue it. He even said in interviews that when the book was first pitched to him that his response was that a Joker solo book was a dumb unworkable idea until he had an idea for a ‘different way to approach it’, he knows exactly what he’s doing and I salute him. And it’s a darn good Gordon book even if the Punchline backup is predictably tepid, I’m in the tank for Gotham’s perpetual whipping boy dealing with weird noir international crime with Joker sort of hanging around in the background menacingly to justify the nominal premise.

Anonymous said: Hey, so I figure one random anon won’t change your mind, but like you I was disappointed by New Frontier’s immortal Wonder Woman, but I still got the new issue of Wonder Woman cause Wonder Woman at Valhalla still sounds great and I actually liked it! I think I’m gonna get at least the next issue, so there’s at least one recommendation for it

Wonder Woman #770: This combined with the store still putting it in my pile prompted me to give it a try after all, and whether because something here clicks better or if they’re simply not trying so hard without the pressure of doing a ‘final’ story for Diana, Cloonan and Conrad do in fact do substantially better on the main book than they did with Immortal Wonder Woman. Some fun, some fights, some mythology and intrigue, gorgeous landscapes and generous servings of beefcake from Travis Moore - this isn’t going to be sweeping the Eisners, but this is as enjoyable as a Wonder Woman comic has been in a good long time. My only concern is that the joyousness on display here might dissipate somewhat once Diana fully returns to herself, but in the meantime this was a very pleasant surprise (especially with the the Young Diana backup by Bellaire, Ganucheau, Goode, and Carey).

Superman #29: PKJ’s Superman thus far has been a story of overcoming initial worries of mine - in this case, my concern that he’d have a bad Scott Snyder-ey case of “if you’ve read the interviews you’ve pretty much already heard the dialogue of the comic verbatim”. In practice here most of what he’s had to say about these issues are distilled down really succinctly and poignantly in the midst of a fun little upper-atmosphere adventure portending something grimmer, and while I know it didn’t click with everyone I thought Phil Hester’s work here was a perfect accompaniment. The Tales of Metropolis backup wasn’t nearly as enjoyable, but hints at some interesting worldbuilding I’m hopeful will pay off in the main run.

The Green Lantern Season Two #12: The final Grant Morrison DC comic. One of two anyway, but if the next story I discuss is their broader final (non-Klaus, hopefully) statement on the superhero subgenre and a bridge to what they’re doing next, this is the one that’s about being The Final Grant Morrison DC Comic. A mélange of pretty much all their other DC finales into a shamelessly self-reflective meditation on the limits of what they can accomplish in shared universe storytelling where Green Lantern saves the universe through collective action and then fucks off to do his own thing elsewhere while the kids take over the ongoings. Weird and kinda perfect, and if nothing else this series took Liam Sharp from “really? This dude is drawing the last ever Morrison DC ongoing?” to “HOLY FUCKING SHIT LIAM SHARP”.

(The panel folks blew up over I think can be read multiple ways, but not in a ‘it’s open to interpretation!’ way so much as the storytelling/framing being unclear. I personally read it as ‘this is what neighbor versus neighbor looks like now’ rather than ‘calling someone a TERF or a Nazi is as bad as anything the other side does’, because oldster and out of touch though they may be I can’t see Morrison seriously saying that, especially after coming out.)

Wonder Woman Earth One Volume 3: At long last, after a hideous misfire kicking the series off and a second installment best described as ‘well, at least it wasn’t the first one’, this while not without elements I want to see femme and nonbinary critics discuss critically lives up to what you want to see out of ‘Grant Morrison’s Wonder Woman’. Big utopian fiction breaking the typical boundaries of superhero stories with aplomb in implicit conversation with a ton of their previous work, a bridge from what they’ve done to what they’re doing next, it’s an imperfect (especially with Paquette’s art, which while gorgeous and majestic in the way this story demands really doesn’t living up to the ‘acting’ necessary here in a way thrown into sharp contrast by Franquiz in PVR) but shockingly passionate statement of intent - if the last two volumes felt like Morrison struggling to have something to say with Wonder Woman in the same way they did with Superman and Batman, this feels at the close like them at last finding in her a way to do everything left with the cape and tights crowd they wanted to but couldn’t manage anywhere else under the Big Two umbrella. Odd and lovely, a fine sendoff.

#Week's Comics #Opinion

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thebonerpit · 5 years ago

Text

all i want is a room with a view [fic]

all i want is a room with a view

Teenker/Keenker, 3780 words. TW: non-consensual voyeurism. Read it on AO3 here!

This was 100% inspired by a nff video that I used to have linked here but I’m taking it out because maybe that’s stopping my post from showing up in tag searches?? Anyway if you want the link I will post it, just send an ask, because the dude looks so much like older Harley it’s insane. And he has a gorgeous dick.

“Tony’s inappropriate feelings for Harley and Peter lead him to spying on them via cameras in their rooms. He sees a whole lot more than he expected.”

Tony had been thinking about this for weeks. Mulling it over in his head, weighing the pros and cons… and funnily enough, not once did he question the morality of the whole thing. That, he knew. He knew it was wrong but he was going to do it anyway because… well, because he wanted to. Because he could. And because he knew this was the closest he was ever going to get to these two beautiful boys.

Harley and Peter had been staying at the complex for about two months now. It was summer, so both of them were out of school and were desperate to get as much time in the labs as possible. Of course no one objected, and Bruce in particular was very pleased to have both of them around to bounce ideas off of. They each had their own room, both already making the spaces their own. They were usually in an equal state of mess although Peter was slightly more organized. He put up a Star Wars poster and had turned one corner into a mini chem lab for his ongoing experiments. Harley on the other hand was much more spartan in his decorating but his desk was constantly littered with mechanical parts and there were grease stains smudging the perfect white walls. He had apologized for the first one but Tony honestly wouldn’t have it any other way. He loved them, mess and all, and he would let them do whatever the hell they wanted if it meant they would stay.

He knew all this detail about their rooms because, well, frankly, he was spying on them. Never while they were in there, but he already had cameras set up in those rooms when they were empty and… he was curious. A few times he opened the feed and caught glimpses of them, working or reading or doing some other innocent activity, but he quickly shut it off. He didn’t want to invade their privacy like that.

Until he did.

It was a few weeks into summer when the staring started. He’d look up from his work to catch Peter’s glassy eyes fixed on him only to hurriedly look back down at his own project, blushing furiously. Harley was less subtle – as usual – and held Tony’s gaze for a few moments before smiling and looking away. At first he thought they were up to something, that he was going to get pranked, but nothing ever came of it. They did it to each other, too, but their gazes were much more knowing, so Tony could only assume there was something between them they didn’t want him to know about.

The first time he actively checked on them while he knew they were present was when he saw Harley sneaking into Peter’s room as he was up getting a glass of water one night. He tip-toed back to his bedroom and pulled up the feed, some dark anticipation throbbing in his stomach. But it seemed perfectly innocent. Harley was on Peter’s desk chair and Peter was on his bed, and they were just talking. Nothing nefarious. Nothing… sexual. It was sick how disappointed he felt.

But after that he just couldn’t stop. He watched Peter on his computer, looking up cute animal videos and laughing sweetly to himself. He watched Harley reading. He watched them both together, sitting on Harley’s bed, eating pizza and marathoning Stranger Things. He even turned the sound on occasionally, just to hear them laugh. It was like an addiction. But somehow, up until this point, he hadn’t seen anything remotely scandalous. Harley was shirtless once but it was just because he spilled coffee all over himself like an idiot.

“Maybe my timing is off,” Tony muttered to himself as he tinkered with the engine of his ’65 Porsche 911.

“What was that?” Harley called from the next table over.

“Nothing! Just talking to myself. As usual. Whenever I ask either of you a question you just respond with memes,” he snapped, which of course got the two of them going and away from the subject he definitely should not have been thinking about in the first place. But he might have had something. He never tried the mornings (or more realistically for these two, afternoons). Tony set an alarm for the next day, more pleased with himself than he should have been, and went back to work.

+ + + + +

He checked in on Peter first. When he opened the camera all he could see were tufts of brown hair peeking out under the edge of his massive comforter all bundled up around his body like a cocoon. Tony chuckled softly and shook his head.

“FRI, crank up the heat in Peter’s room a little, would you?”

Tony liked to keep the a/c low but even though Peter’s crazy high metabolism should keep him warm, he was always bundled up in hoodies and socks and obviously he needed some more heat while he slept. Tony smiled fondly at the image before switching over to Harley.

The contrast was shockingly stark. Harley had no sheets on at all and was lying face-down on the bed, clad only in a pair of very snug, red boxer-briefs. His tight, round ass was perfectly on display and Tony bit his lip as Harley shifted and the muscles clenched. This was more like it. Harley was obviously just waking up, his phone chirping an alarm at him as he squirmed a little bit, stretching his legs out and groaning softly into the pillow before flipping over to turn it off.

Tony was greeted by a significant bulge which he barely had time to appreciate before Harley was palming it and arching into his own touch.

“Mmmm,” he moaned quietly, biting his lip as he squeezed a bit harder.

Tony was completely captivated. This was exactly what he was hoping for, and as Harley slipped a hand into his underwear Tony did the same. How he was going to look him in the eye again later that day he had no idea, but he could barely even process that thought right now. All he could think about was how good he looked, how soft and sleep-warmed, and fucking shit how big his cock was. Tony was stunned when Harley finally pulled his briefs down his legs and grasped his dick with one hand. It was thick and long and flushed red, and Tony’s mouth literally watered at the sight. He had always imagined being on top in any scenario involving the boys but god, what he wouldn’t do to get that dick in his mouth or his ass…

Harley stroked himself slowly, pausing every so often to spit in his palm. He seemed unhurried and relaxed, just enjoying the pleasure of a lazy morning handjob. His other hand wandered up and down his chest, flicking at his nipples or scratching lightly against his stomach. A few times he reached up to tug at his mop of sleep-mussed dirty blonde hair and Tony felt his own hand tighten, wishing he could touch him like that, too. Harley kept his eyes closed for the most part but a few times he blinked and seemed to focus directly on the camera lens. The first time it happened Tony tensed up, his hand ready to cut the feed, but it must have been a coincidence because Harley just kept going like before.

His noises started to get louder as he sped up his strokes and he reached down with his other hand to cup his heavy sac, tugging at it gently. Tony could see his hips start to jerk, and from the look on his face he was about five seconds from coming all over himself, so Tony sped up to match him. Unfortunately, before they could get there, both of them wrenched their hands away as Harley’s door flung open and Peter waltzed inside.

“Hey Harls, wanna go get brunch before we—”

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the boy laid out on the bed. Harley stopped touching himself but made no effort to cover up, so he was completely naked and incredibly hard.

“Oh my god. Oh my GOD, I’m so sorry, fuck, I’ll… I just…”

Peter flushed bright pink but for some reason made no effort to turn and leave, which is probably exactly what Tony would have done if he walked in on his friend jerking off. Unless of course he was attracted to that specific friend and… oh. OH.

Harley seemed to come to the same realization and a slow, lazy smile crept across his face.

“Hey Pete,” he said, his voice scratchy with sleep and from the moans that were escaping earlier.

“I… I didn’t mean…” Peter’s voice was quiet, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Harley’s cock.

“I know. But you did sorta interrupt me. So, now that you’re here…”

Peter blinked at him owlishly.

“Wh-what?”

“Come on. I know we always talk about how fucking hot Tony is-“ excuse me WHAT “-but I’ve seen the way you look at me, too.”

Tony was reeling from the bomb that Harley so casually dropped. They talked about him? How had he never heard–?

“Shhh, Harley! We agreed, never in here! FRI hears everything.”

Ah-ha. Smart boys.

“Not really thinkin’ straight right now, Pete,” Harley said with a shrug. “If you don’t want to you can go, I promise I won’t make it weird, but—”

“NO! Uh. No. I…” Peter squirmed and bit his lip before he started slowly walking over to the bed.

Tony couldn’t believe his eyes. Was this really happening? He was half-tempted to ask FRIDAY if he was in a coma or hallucinating or maybe dead.

Peter was dressed in an oversized hoodie that Harley started to tug off as soon as he got close enough. They managed to get it off after a bit of a struggle, leaving him in tiny little sleep shorts that Tony had never seen before.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, baby,” Harley said, grabbing at Peter’s waist and pulling him down for a wet kiss. Tony could hear everything, every slick filthy sound, and his dick which had softened briefly from the shock was now rock hard again.

“Really?” Peter whispered.

“You’re tellin’ me you haven’t picked up on ANY of the hints I’ve been droppin’? Christ, my flirting game is rusty.”

“I just… didn’t think…”

“Yeah, I know. It’s part of what I like so much about you. Innocent little flower,” Harley teased, kissing Peter on the nose and making him scrunch his face up.

“Oh my god Harley, I’m not that innocent!”

“Yeah? Prove it.”

Peter got a look on his face that Tony had definitely seen before, usually when either he or Harley challenged him to some task in the lab. Determination. Stubbornness. Boldness. He huffed out a little noise before pushing Harley back down on the bed, crawling down his body, and licking a thick, wet stripe up the length of his cock. Harley’s whole body jerked at the sensation and Peter looked up with a sly smile before taking the tip into his mouth and sucking.

“Fuckkkk, that’s it baby,” Harley groaned, throwing his head back against the pillow and scrabbling blindly for Peter’s hair to tug on which earned him a disapproving noise.

“Nuh-uh,” Peter tutted, pulling off him with a soft ‘pop’. “You want that, you have to look at me.”

Harley propped himself up on his elbows, one eyebrow raised, as he stared down at Peter who was pressing soft kisses all along his length.

“Is this better, princess?” he teased. Peter flushed a little but nodded as he took him back in his mouth. Harley dug one elbow into the mattress and with his other hand he curled his fingers back into Peter’s hair, pulling gently. Tony watched, completely mesmerized, as Peter got about halfway down his cock before he gagged and had to back off. There was no way the kid was going to get that thing all the way down his throat but god it was beautiful to watch him try. His lips were swollen pink from the abuse, spit-slick and oh so kissable. And Harley was a sight himself, obviously already on the edge from touching himself for so long but trying not to come too soon, his body tense and shiny with sweat.

“Oh god, Pete, your mouth…”

Peter hummed around Harley’s throbbing cock which made the older boy yelp and yank him off by the hair.

“Want more,” Peter whined, trying to take it in his mouth again, but Harley wouldn’t let him. He must be so close, Tony thought, palming his own cock just to get some relief. Usually he prided himself on being able to last however long his partner needed but fuck, he didn’t know how much more he could take. Thankfully, Harley seemed to be in the same position. He dragged Peter up into another searing kiss.

“Too close,” he murmured against Peter’s lips, “wanna come inside this sweet little ass. ‘S that ok?”

Peter nodded vigorously. “I’ve got lube in my room, I can—”

“In the drawer, over there,” Harley interrupted, pointing to his desk. Peter clambered off him so quickly he almost tripped and Harley laughed, but there was no malice in it. Tony got an exceptional view of Peter’s ass as he bent over to rummage through the drawer and could only image how Harley was going to fit his cock in there. Peter was already opening the bottle and squeezing lube on his fingers as he climbed back into Harley’s lap.

“You’re not gonna let me do that for you?”

“Not now. I know how much I need,” Peter said as he reached back to slide two fingers inside him, moaning as he pressed them as deep as he could.

“Well at least let me enjoy the show,” Harley said with a smirk, tapping at Peter’s hip until he squirmed around awkwardly to face the other direction in his lap. Harley groaned and squeezed at his pert little cheeks, spreading them apart while Peter fingered himself open. Tony watched his slick fingers move faster and faster and moaned out loud when Peter added a third, the high-resolution cameras picking up the perfect pink of his hole as it stretched around his thin digits. Harley threw his head back for a moment, eyes catching the camera again, and Tony could have sworn he smirked at it, but he was soon distracted by Harley slipping one of his fingers in alongside Peter’s.

“Ahhh!” Peter gasped, his hips shuddering as he sank down on their hands.

“You have gorgeous fingers babe, but it wasn’t gonna be enough. Come on, press in a little more, that’s it…”

It was only a few more minutes until Peter was whining and pulling at Harley’s wrist with his other hand until he slid his fingers out, letting Peter turn back around and position himself over his cock. Tony almost wished he had stayed the other way just so he could see every inch of it press inside, but this way he got to see his beautiful face. He’d have to invest in some mirrors for their rooms for the future… or maybe more cameras.

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Yeah, yes, please, want it,” Peter begged. Harley held his hips still with one hand and reached down to line himself up with the other. Tony could see the exact moment the head pressed past Peter’s tight muscle as his eyes flew open and he let out a choked-off gasp.

“Harleyyyyyy,” Peter whined, squirming his hips as Harley pushed up into him, getting those last few inches inside. He looked completely overwhelmed, his chest heaving and tears streaking down his cheeks.

“Aw look at you sweetheart, such a little crybaby, huh?”

“Am not,” Peter sniffed, slapping Harley on the chest which made the other boy laugh.

“Thought you said you wanted more?”

“I do! Fuck, Harls, it’s so big, feel so full…”

“Yeah? You like that big fat cock inside you?”

Peter blushed but he nodded fiercely, and he must have squeezed around him because Harley gasped and gripped his hips even tighter.

“Fuck yeah, just like that. Such a little slut,” Harley growled, jerking his hips up and jostling Peter forward. He braced himself with his hands on either side of Harley’s head and moaned as his flushed cock rubbed against Harley’s stomach. “You ready, baby?”

Peter nodded and leaned down to mouth wet kisses against Harley’s neck.

“P-please, move,” he whispered.

Harley started slow, fucking up into him with long, deep thrusts that jostled Peter’s whole body against his own. They tried to kiss but it was too messy, mouths barely connecting as Peter tried to meet Harley’s movements. It was uncoordinated, both of them trying to do what felt the best, and somehow Tony found that way sexier than if they immediately started fucking like porn stars. Peter whined with frustration as Harley kept knocking him out of his rhythm.

“Nnn, stop, lemme… fuck,” he groaned, as Harley grabbed his hips so tightly Tony could see the skin turn white and bucked up into him as deep as he could go.

“So fussy,” Harley rasped. “You wanna take control, hm?”

A flush of embarrassment creeped across Peter’s chest. He was like this even in the lab when they were all working together and he got excited about something, forgetting his sweet demeanour and ordering Harley and Tony around until he realized what he was doing. Tony usually just smirked and gave him a jaunty little salute but he would never tell him how hot it was. He was still shy about it, but obviously his need for pleasure won out and he pried Harley’s hands off of him, pressing them into the mattress.

Peter leaned back to grip Harley’s thighs as he worked his hips, slamming down against Harley, his dick jumping with every movement. Harley propped himself up on his elbows to watch this little display, a sexy smirk playing across his mouth as Peter rode him.

“God, look at you… so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he purred. “You close? Gonna come on my cock like a good boy?”

Tony groaned out loud at that. Fuck, Harley had an absolutely filthy mouth and he somehow knew exactly what to say to make Tony impossibly turned on.

Peter could only nod and whimper, and after a few more enthusiastic bounces he ground his hips down as much as he could, moving them in short little jerks to rub Harley deep against his insides. He must have been pressing right against his prostate because it didn’t take long for him to come with a high-pitched whine, shooting all over himself and Harley. Tony nearly came with him, just from the expression on his sweet face: eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, cheeks flushed… it was pure sin. Peter’s dick was still jumping and leaking when Harley grabbed his waist again and pulled him down for a kiss.

“That’s it, so good for me Pete,” Harley cooed, rubbing up and down his back and he shifted underneath him so he could plant his feet against the mattress. “I’m close too, baby, can I…?”

Peter nodded into his neck, fingers winding into Harley’s sweat-drenched hair, and he wiggled his hips a little just for good measure. Harley let out a grunt as he started fucking up into Peter’s pliant body in short little jerks. Tony matched Harley’s thrusts with his own hand, trying to imagine how tight and hot Peter must feel, how he opened for Harley’s huge cock so beautifully…

“Gonna come, gonna fill you up, so fuckin’ sweet darlin’, fuck!”

Tony got another gorgeous view of Peter’s face as Harley came deep inside him and he snapped his head up with a gasp and a lazy, fucked-out smile, practically drooling as Harley shuddered through his orgasm underneath him. It pushed Tony over the edge and he came moments after Harley, muffling his shout with one hand and making an absolute mess of his stomach. He came like he had been edging himself for hours and had to take a moment to slow his breathing before he could even look at the camera again. These boys were literally going to kill him. His heart could only take so much.

Which is why he nearly full-on passed out when Harley twisted his head around to look directly in the camera with a devilish smile on his face.

“Hi Tony. Did you like the show?”

Peter’s head jerked up again, his eyes wide as he looked to the door where he must have expected to see Tony standing.

“Wh-what, Harley, what are you—”

He followed Harley’s gaze to where the camera was, almost completely hidden unless you were looking for it, and he nearly choked.

“Oh my god,” he groaned, hiding in Harley’s neck as Harley chuckled, rubbing his back to comfort him.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. He’s wanted this since we got here. Got my phone all set up to notify me when you’re watchin’ the feed of my room,” Harley said.

That little shit.

“Figured I’d just give you a solo show today but then Pete here turned up and… well… happy early birthday I guess.”

Peter was still hiding, but he whispered something to Harley, so quiet the camera didn’t pick up the audio. Harley reached down and pulled his face up with a gentle finger under his chin and nodded. It must have reassured him enough to look up at the camera again although he was still bright red. He bit his lip as he raised himself off Harley’s softening cock, letting it slip out. Tony could see a pool of wetness where Harley’s come was dripping out of him and he groaned.

“I feel so empty already,” Peter said quietly, still staring at the camera. “Maybe you can help me with that, Mr. Stark?”

Harley laughed softly as he sat up enough to press a kiss to Peter’s abs and grab his phone from his night table, and then he cut the camera feed. Tony was left staring at his reflection in the blank screen. His softening cock was hanging out of his pants, stomach covered in cooling come, and his face was red from exertion. He was an absolute mess, but he had never felt so aroused.

“Be careful what you wish for, Peter,” he murmured to himself with a smile, cleaning himself up and already planning his next move.

#keenker #teenker #starker #harley keener x peter parker #harley keener x peter parker x tony stark #nff #tbpwrites #ok i'm re-doing this post because it wasn't showing up in the tags #WHY #i just want to share filth with people!!

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give-me-back-my-rhodey · 5 years ago

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The Potter and the Blacksmith

Title: The Potter and the Blacksmith

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning: (assumed)Major Character Death, but not really

Relationship: Tony Stark/Thor

Link: Read on AO3 here

Summary: Life was simple in the village of Belleville. Everyone had their job to do, and everyone lived in peace with each other. There had been no trouble in the village for a long time. The last werewolf attack was years ago, and dragons have not been seen for decades. Magic is prohibited in this realm, and the ruler of the village likes to take this very seriously. Once warned in a dream that she and her family would die by magic, she goes the extra mile to make sure there is never any magic in the town.

When the gregarious potter marries the isolated blacksmith, rumors start flying. What happens when one of them is suspected of using magic?

Life was simple in the village of Belleville. Everyone had their job to do, and everyone lived in peace with each other. There had been no trouble in the village for a long time. The last werewolf attack was years ago, and dragons have not been seen for decades.

Magic is prohibited in this realm, and the ruler of the village likes to take this very seriously. Once warned in a dream that she and her family would die by magic, she goes the extra mile to make sure there is never any magic in the town.

In this town lives a potter. No one is sure how he does it, but the pottery he makes is a better quality than the other potters in the village. The potter is a big blonde man who is always down for a good laugh. Every day, he is in the marketplace buying and/or selling. He knows everyone’s names, and everyone knows his. The ladies of the village all claim he smiles at them the best, but few actually know the one with which his true affection lies.

The blacksmith, on the other hand, is a short man who isolates himself from the town. No one really knows him, and new rumors about the man are generated every morning. Some say he is the disinherited son of a noble, some say he’s a magical being living in disguise. Others claim him to be a devil, what with the amount of smoke that arises from his home each day. No matter what the rumor, no one will ask the man; they are all too afraid. If one does not have needed reparations, one does not go near the smithy.

The blacksmith is not unfriendly when one talks to him. He prefers to be left alone. All the horses and donkeys that are left with him are treated with the utmost gentility. He charges reasonably and never causes problems. He has two apprentices that mostly deal with the customers, and they don’t seem to be mistreated.

One day, the potter takes a walk up the hill to the smithy. “Peter. Harley. Is Tony available?” He greets.

The blacksmith walks in from the forge, wiping his hands on a rag. “Thor. Welcome. How are you today?”

“I was wondering if you would perhaps like to dine at my house tonight? I am making that stew you enjoy.”

Tony, ever the oblivious one, cocks his head. “That sounds appetizing but I do have this invention that I need to work on that requires proper care.”

“Master Tony, we can keep an eye on that. It is our jobs.” Harley is quick to speak up.

“Why don’t you boys go to Mr. Thor’s house instead? Perhaps you can enjoy a good meal instead of my burnt mistakes.”

Thor groans inwardly, and the boys look uncomfortable, clearly picking up on Thor’s offer. “Master, Mr. Thor didn’t ask us.” Peter begins.

“He wouldn’t mind. He makes enough to share.”

“What if Mr. Thor brings the stew here?” Harley asks. “Then we all could have some.”

Thor sighs. “That sounds splendid. I shall do as such.”

“Great! Then it’s settled.” Tony claps. “I must get back to my invention.” And he slips back to the forge.

Harley turns to Thor. “We sincerely apologize. He’s not great on picking up social cues. You would think with his upbringing…”

“Shh! We’re not supposed to talk about that!” Peter elbows him.

Thor slips out before he witnesses a brawl. He must do something to get Tony’s attention… but what? Perhaps if he asks to court him, straight up, he’d agree.

True to his word, Thor brings a kettle of stew to Tony’s cottage. As they gather around the table, a large boom sounds from the forge. Tony hops up to check on his invention, and Thor follows him. When they walk into the forge, Thor wants to kiss away the sadness in Tony’s eyes. The invention is scattered across the floor, having blown up.

“Don’t worry, Tony. I can help you fix that.” Thor tries to cheer him up. He produces a blue ball of swirling energies, and uses it to bring the pieces back together.

Tony slaps his arm. “Put that away!” He hisses. “Magic is what got me into this mess in the first place!”

“You have magic?” Thor is intrigued.

“No I do not!” Tony cries. “But for some reason, everyone I meet seems to think I do. My own father disowned me and sent me away, and I took two of his best apprentices with me. They were basically my sons anyways.”

Thor feels a little lost. “Why would they think you have magic?” He wonders.

“My brain is quite skilled. I have been inventing since I was four years old. When my creations become more advanced than ever, people start to wonder what magical powers I have. Magic is illegal in these lands, Thor. You should really be careful to whom you show your powers,” Tony says earnestly, and Thor wants to pull his own hair out. Why can’t the man see that Thor is choosing to trust him?

“Do you have any advanced inventions at this cottage?” Thor asks. “I would be curious to see what you mean.”

Tony looks dazed, then suspicious. He finally relents. “I guess. It’s not like I don’t have anything over you if you decide that my inventions are wicked. When we have finished your stew, I will show you as the boys clean up.”

Once the stew is gone, Tony leads Thor to a secret room in the back of the cottage. Inside are wonders of which Thor could not have dreamt! “Tony, this is beautiful,” Thor breathes. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Again, Tony cocks his head and narrows his eyes as if he’s trying to figure something out that he just can’t grasp. “You like it? No one ever likes my inventions.” He accuses.

“Everyone else is a simpleton, afraid of things they cannot explain or understand.” Thor cups Tony’s face with his large hands. “May I court you, Tony?”

“You want to court me?” Tony snorts. “People will talk, Thor. We’re not exactly compatible.”

“Do you dislike me? Because I am intrigued and delighted by you.”

Tony sighs. “Of course, I don’t dislike you, Thor. Everyone likes you. I just… when the rumors of my upbringing come this way, and I know they will, I would hate for you to be caught in the middle.”

“I assure you; I can hold my ground.” Thor moves his hands down to Tony’s shoulders.

“I’m sure you can.” Tony’s eyes run over Thor’s body appreciatively. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Thor knows he has to phrase himself differently. He thinks a moment, then says, “Tony, if you do not want to court me because you do not like me as I like you, I shall take no as an answer and leave you be. But if you do not want to court me because you believe I will grow to regret it; I implore you to take a chance on me. I promise I will never regret you.”

“Ok.” Tony wilts. “I will accept your offer of courtship.”

++++++

Four Years Later

Thor wakes up next to his husband. His eyes trace Tony’s sleeping features. This is one of Thor’s favorite parts of the day, watching the usually bustling blacksmith lie stilly and peacefully in the morning hours. Thor runs his finger over Tony’s cheekbone and places a kiss on his forehead. It is time for him to get out of bed.

Letting Tony sleep, Thor pads off to his workroom. Wisps of magic fly around the room, keeping the clay running and the wheel turning. Other wisps are making engravings in the quickly drying pots and bowls. Satisfied with their progress, Thor heads back to his bedroom. Tony is waking up.

“Good morning, my love.” Thor sinks down beside him on the bed and gives him a kiss.

“Hmm. Good morning.” Tony leans in for another. “You know, the boys spent the night at the forge.” He wiggles his brows. Catching Tony’s drift, Thor is quick to comply.

Once both are properly sated, they wash together and get ready to start their day. As Thor walks out the door to walk with Tony to the forge, one of his little wisps decides it is going to latch itself to Thor’s pants. It detaches when they arrive at the forge. This is where everything goes to shit.

Tony speaks with a customer in the forge, later that day, when a little blue speck catches the townsman’s eye. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t speak up. Two days later, the little wisp makes its way down into the town. The ruler sees it and immediately calls a council together. They must find the witch.

In a frenzy, the townspeople start throwing accusations left and right to the point that no one knows what to believe. Finally, the ruler quiets everyone down, and she asks, “Does anyone have any evidence that the person which whom you are accusing has been using magic?”

Everyone quiets down with a murmur until the man who had been at the forge two days earlier speaks up. “I saw a speck like that in the blacksmith’s forge not two days ago.”

“He must be the witch.” Someone else yells.

A traveling merchant asks, “Who is the blacksmith in this fair town?”

“Tony Carbellino.”

“If he be who I think, the man is a liar and a thief. I had been looking for this man awhile.” The merchant advises. “I believe him to be the disowned son of the nobleman Howard Stark. When it came about that his son dabbled in the magic arts, the kind Lord Howard asked his son to run away and never come back – he couldn’t bear to see his son killed. Anthony did leave; however, he took with him two of the lord’s finest apprentices. I would imagine that they are now blacksmith’s apprentices when they could have been so much more.”

“But he does use magic?” A farmer asks.

The merchant nods. “There is no way he could not, what with his unnatural creations. Please be careful when you go to confront him. Who knows what he has as a defense.”

The townsfolk grab their swords and light their torches. They don’t need a witch in their nice town. They pull Tony from his forge and tie him up, despite his loud protests. Forcing his apprentices outside, they set fire to the house and forge. Only one room remains, but when someone tries to open it, a blue flash appears, and the person flies back ten feet. They decide to leave the room there and drag the blacksmith to the town square.

Harley, Peter, and Tony all scream and argue that they have the wrong person, but to no avail. The townsfolk don’t notice when Harley leaves the procession. Focusing their wrath on Tony, they lash him to the whipping post and set it aflame.

Suddenly lightning erupts in the sky. Thor stalks down to the center square, eyes glowing an unearthly blue. “What have you done?” He bellows. Rushing through the fire, he pulls Tony out, but it seems that he’s too late. Tony is badly burnt and no longer breathing. Falling to his knees, Thor lets out an inhuman bellow, and lightning strikes the ground all around him.

The ruler is grasping her metal staff when the electricity moves its way up to her hand and through her body. She falls to the ground, dead. Everyone else backs away from Thor, afraid of who will be killed next. The witch screams again with the pain of losing a lover. Thunder crashes loudly, and rain begins to fall. Only a sob from Peter keeps Thor from wreaking pain and death on the whole town.

“Thor! Stop please!” Peter cries.

“They killed him, Peter. He’s dead.” Thor tries to tell the boy, but Peter shakes his head.

“I know they did, Thor.” He looks up at the witch earnestly. “But what would Tony want you to do?”

Thor breathes heavily. “He… would… want… me… to let him rest in peace.” His eyes flash blue again. “But I want revenge. He’s no longer here – how am I supposed to live?”

“We'll move to a different town,” Harley tells him. “We'll take all of Tony’s inventions and start over. Tony would like that.”

The villagers rush into their homes and bar the doors as the two boys try to calm Thor down. Eventually, he relents, and they lead him back to his home. “Come on, we'll pack up and leave tomorrow.” Harley comforts the man. “You won’t have anymore reminders of this horrible place anymore.”

Thor spends his night packing up all his belongings. They will have to travel far away to remain unknown. His wisps curl up softly in a jug, and he sets them in a safe place. Where can he go? How will he live without the love of his life? Thor breaks down and cries til dawn. As he readies himself to leave, there is a knock on his back door. Thinking it’s the boys, he sighs and flings the door open, only to reveal…. Tony. “No, you’re dead. I saw you die.”

“Thor, love, do you think me a fool?” Tony questions. “I grabbed a vial of your life spell. No matter what they did to me, I could recover. It’s me, hor. I’m right here. Test me however you want; I will pass.

Thor pulls Tony close, kisses him deeply, and then motions to his belongings. “we are moving out.”

“I understand,” Tony nods. “We should go somewhere were neither of us are known… or to a land where magic is allowed.”

“I can take you back to my homeland,” Thor advises. “We are families of witches. Our spells are passed down from generation to generation. Please advise and I will request passage from Heimdall.”

Tony agrees, and they walk the cart up to the remains of the forge. Getting the boys, they all stand in Tony's invention room, and Thor casts a spell. A bright rainbow light shoots down from the sky onto them. When it disappears, so has everything it touched. The only thing left is a pattern burned into the ground.

++++++

300 Years Later

This story is passed down the generations, how a man came back to life and another man controlled the lightning. No one knew how they left. Some said that the witch caused them to ascend; others said a dragon burned them to ashes. No matter what happened, the two were never seen again. The burn marks are now gone, and a house has been built where the forge once was.

No one knows if the story is true, and children ask for the story of the potter and the blacksmith. Every once in a while, though, someone thinks they see a little blue wisp…

#thunderiron #tony stark x thor #fantasy au #au_gust_2020

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lostinaseaoffictionalbliss · 5 years ago

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Dark Temptation

A/N: Okay you guys can totally think Friday the 13th (2009 verison) for this fic. I know you guys are probable thinking ‘but Maddy what does a horror movie have to do with a smutty Sam fic?’ Nothing other than Jared looked sexy on that motorcycle and I couldn’t get it out of my head.

Summary: A day in the park leads to much more than you would have ever expected

Warnings: really dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Sam being a bit possessive

Word Count: 1834

You stared at your painting and hummed softly. You had come to the park to work on your latest piece. It was a warm day, but not overly so and a slight breeze was blowing. The sun was shining with just a few white fluffy clouds in the sky. It was one of those days that you could easily relax and work in peace. These were the days you loved most.

You dipped your brush in the green paint and started to add some pine trees to your painting. It was a scenic piece and being in the park helped put you even more in the mood. You happily sung to yourself as you worked.

But the tranquil moment was shattered moments later as a group of bikers rode by. They had to stop at the nearby red light, giving you a chance to look them over. You eyes landed on one man sitting on a black Harley Davidson. The gas tank had a skull breathing blue flames that wrapped around a rose. As an artist you had to admire it, but as a woman you admired the man sitting astride the bike even more.

Your mouth almost started watering as you took in the six foot four hunk with his long dark hair, leather vest over a dark red Henley, and thick thighs clad in leather. His broad shoulders and long arms had you imagining what it would feel like to be held by him, to have him pick you up and pin you to a wall while he fucked you for all you are worth. A small shudder went through you and your panties were ruined with how soaked the image made you.

Hazel eyes landed on you and you blushed, quickly looking away. You couldn’t believe that he had caught you staring at him. A few moments later the rumble of the bikes leaving had you looking up. Mister tall, dark, and handsome is staring right at you and he’s smirking. A smirk that says he knows something. It’s as if he was reading your very thoughts and that unnerved you a little, but you didn’t look away this time. Not until he did. You watched him head down the road and licked your lips.

It was probably for the best that he left. You didn’t think you needed that kind of trouble in your life. And you didn’t doubt for one second that he was trouble.

As you stepped out of the shower later that evening and moved to your bed you couldn’t help fantasizing about the man again. He was handsome in a dark and somewhat dangerous way, but that made you want him even more. A crazy thought as you didn’t even know his name. For all you knew he could be some serial killer or some sociopath.

Climbing into bed you tried to shake him from your thoughts. You doubted you would ever see him again. Even if you did you doubted you were his type. He was all biker bad boy and you were a sweet innocent artist. No it was best not to think of him or the pleasure he could make you feel. It wouldn’t get you anywhere.

The only problem was when you returned to the park a few days later to work on another new piece he and his friends drove by once more. Only this time when your eyes locked with his gorgeous hazels he moved his bike off to the side and parked. Your eyes widened as you watched him dismount the bike and start strolling toward you. Licking your lips you let your gaze fall down his body to land on his thick thighs.

Oh good God! Those thighs were made for riding. Just grab onto his broad shoulders and ride with everything in you while listening to him to praise you and squeeze your hips. Those plump kissable lips pulled back in a wicked smirk as he watches you come undone for him, because of him.

A throat clearing pulled you out of your day dream and you lifted your gaze to look into to those gorgeous hazel eyes up close. He’s got a very knowing grin on his lips as he looks down at you. This time you’re sure that he’s reading your thoughts.

“Hi, I’m Sam Winchester. I couldn’t help admiring your art and wanted to come get a closer look.” His mouth said one thing, but his eyes said another. He wasn’t looking at the painting, hadn’t even spared it a glance. No, he had a predatory look. One that said he wanted to devour you.

And curse your horny sex depreived mind...curse you for not taking the time to go on a date in the last three months...but dammit you wanted him to devour you in every way possible. Your earlier thoughts about not wanting his kind of trouble went right out the window.

You smiled as innocently as you possibly could, not wanting to give away how much you wanted him (he knew anyway), and introduced yourself.

What seemed like mere seconds later, but was actually a full thirty minutes you were back at your house. Only you weren’t alone. Sam had come with you. You set about putting up your incomplete painting, brushes, and paints with his lustful gaze on you the entire time. It sent jolts down your spine straight to your core.

Turning to him a small squeak left you as you realized he was right in front of you. Tilting your head back you looked up at him. “Sam what are you-” Soft, plump lips pressed against yours in a hard kiss cutting you off. Strong, warm, calloused hands grabbed your waist and picked you up as if you were as light as a feather. He pinned you against the wall his body settling between your thighs.

A small whimper left you and you grabbed his leather jacket. It wasn’t to push him away, as a rational person might do with a person they just met, but it was to pull him closer. When his hands slid down to your thighs to lift you, you didn’t put up a bit of a fight. His jean clad crotch ground against your soaked core and you gasped. He felt bigger than anyone you had ever been with and you weren’t sure how he was going to fit.

A deep chuckle left him. “Don’t worry baby girl it’ll fit and you’re going to love every second of it,” his deep voice caressed your ear, exuding confidence. He nibbled on your earlobe and trailed hot open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

“Oh...oh fuck,” you mewled when he found the sweet spot at the junction of your neck and shoulder. A pleased growl rumbled through his chest and he ground his crotch against you again, eliciting even more sounds of pleasure from you.

He smirked against your skin and started nipping across your collarbone. “There’s a dirty little slut underneath that good girl exterior isn’t there? A dirty girl just wanting to be fucked, to have her pussy pounded into until she cums so hard she sees stars.”

Your mind was in a haze of lust. He could have been telling you he was going to kill your cat and you would have agreed with it. “Y-yes,” you choked out as he sucked on your pulse point.

“I knew it. The way you looked at me at the park, I knew you wanted me to fuck you sensless.”

You whimpered and rocked toward him, needing some kind of friction. “I do. Please Sam. Fuck me like the dirty girl I am.”

He growled again, this time more dark and animalistic. He moved back enough to undo his jeans and pull out his cock. Pushing your ruined panties to the side he ran his cock through you slick covered folds and moaned softly. “Already drenched for me babygirl.”

Grabbing hold of his shoulders you whined and rocked toward him, desperately wanting him inside you. “Please,” you begged.

Sam kissed you hard, his tongue snaking into your mouth to rub against yours as he slowly pushed in. He didn’t break the kiss until he bottomed out. With a small hiss he laid his head on your shoulder. “Fuck you’re tight,” he whispered huskily.

You couldn’t form words at this point. You were filled to the brim and being stretched more than you had ever been before. The slight burn mixed with the pleasure of having his long, thick cock buried in you, and all thought process went out the window. You squeezed his shoulders as you waited for him to start moving.

At first his thrusts were slow, but he made sure each one dragged against your g-spot. However once you started begging him for more and he knew you were ready for him, he gave you exactly what you wanted. His hips ground into yours with each hard thrust, dragging moans from deep within you. It was a good thing you didn’t live close to anyone or they would have heard you. Not that either of you cared.

Your nails raked down his back as he rolled his hips just right causing his pubic bone to grind against your clit. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” you cried feeling that familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach start to build: the coil wounding tight. Going weeks without an orgasm had you on edge rather quickly.

He grunted feeling you flutter around him. “That’s it babygirl. You gonna cum on my cock like the dirty girl you are?”

“Yes!!”

His fingers dug into your hips and he latched onto the side of your neck. “Then do it. Milk that cock like the needy little slut you are.”

His command pushed you just that much closer to the edge and with a few more rough thrusts you tumbled over. Slick gushed between your thighs and soaked his cock, dripping down onto his balls. Your entire body shook from the intensity of the orgasm and his name came out as a choked sob.

Sam groaned into your neck as he went tumbling over the edge and filled you with ropes of his warm thick seed. “Fuck,” he panted.

You whimpered and held onto him as he finally let you down. Your legs shook and if he wasn’t holding onto you, you would have fallen. He grinned and gave you a kiss so much gentler than the previous ones. You leaned into it and closed your eyes.

“I hope you know this means you belong to me now,” he whispered against your lips.

The possessiveness of that one sentence should have made you want to run, but all it did was make you want him more. “I think I might need another lesson. Why don’t you take me to the bedroom and show me who I belong to?”

Sam gave another predatory grin and picked you up. “Which way?”

#Sam x reader #Sam Winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #biker!Sam winchester #biker!Sam Winchester x reader #biker!Sam x reader #biker!Sam #Sam Winchester fics #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural #Supernatural fandom #Supernatural fanfiction #SPN #SPN fandom #SPN fanfiction #SPN smut #Supernatural Smut

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thewriterwithnoplan · 5 years ago

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Dirty and Useless (Part 12)

Summary: Jason Todd had always said there were only two types of cop; Dirty and Useless. So when Y/N comes along with a spunky partner and a laughable code name it’s safe to say they don’t exactly see eye to eye. But if they’ve got anything in common it’s their secrets. Both are hiding behind masks whether they know it or not. Will the Robin get the Nightingale to come out of the shadows? Pairing: Titans!Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 1543 Warnings: None.

Bruce Wayne was a man of many things. He was a billionaire playboy, a caped crusader, and a proud business owner. Over the years he had donned several masks, each one more intricate and fragile as the last. One thing he had never imagined being – a father. Or rather an absentee, poor excuse of a father.

He’d given it his all, taught his daughter every skill he knew. But somehow, he had still missed the important stuff, the little achievements that had nothing to do with beating a villain into a gutter in crime alley. He’d missed milestones and holidays, graduations and birthdays. But most of all he’d missed the warning signs.

Looking back at it, there had been plenty of signs that Y/N was not happy with her gold-encrusted canary cage. Her protectiveness toward the Sparrow had been the biggest warning. But by then – too busy with his new protégé Dick Grayson – Bruce was far too arrogant to see it. And then all at once, she was gone – in court on one day, out of Gotham the next.

What Bruce Wayne had never been prepared for, was the possibility that maybe the problem hadn’t been Y/N. He’d tried to replace her time and time again. First with Dick Grayson, who he’d molded into the perfect Robin. But even then, Bruce had missed the cries for help and Dick had left too.

But this time, with Jason Todd – whose only wish was to be close to the great Batman – there was no possible way that Bruce could screw this up. Or so the man had thought. Somehow, he’d managed to push even the ever-so-violently-brash Jason away.

“And how was your day Jason?” Bruce asked over dinner – despite the fact that Jason had made a point to ignore the man all afternoon.

“It was fine.” He sighed, with a deject shrug. “Y/N took me out after lunch, so it wasn’t exactly the worst.”

Y/N gave him a teasing pout, “You make it sound like seeing me isn’t the highlight of your day.”

Jason’s answering expression was something of an amused smirk, with a playful eye roll thrown in the mix. For whatever reason Jason’s grumpy mood was directed only at the big bad Batman. Y/N gave an exasperated sigh as she tutted into a spoonful of her dinner.

“Oops, sorry Jay,” She snarked, “I didn’t mean to get in the way of your whole teenage angst thing. How long does it take you to make your hair look like you could careless in a perfect sorta way?”

Bruce had no idea what his daughter was going on about but his newest protégé obviously did. The boy had to wait several minutes for his shoulders to stop shaking in silent laughter before he answered;

“It was your bike helmets, the style just seemed to suit me.”

Y/N cracked a smile, “Sure does, Boy Blunder.”

“Oh, like you’re not the clumsiest girl I’ve ever met,” He grumbled, running a hand through his hair unconsciously. “You tripped over like three times, at the park today.”

“Wait, you two went to the park?” Bruce interrupted.

“Well yeah,” Y/N shrugged, “Jason told you, I took him out of school after lunch so we could get ice cream.”

Jason scoffed loudly, eyebrows raised, “When you say it like that it sounds like you didn’t roll up on your motorcycle and threaten Gregory.”

“That was his name?”

“You what?” Bruce demanded. “What were you thinking? What if the press finds out?”

“Say they’re lying? I don’t know what you’re worried about, I’m the lost daughter of Gotham they’re not going to do anything.”

Bruce opened his mouth to continue ranting, likely about how she was being irresponsible and painting a bad picture for the Wayne name. She’d heard the same lecture a million times before, Jason probably had too. So, when her phone started ringing merrily, both were a little more than relieved.

Holding a silencing finger up – rather rudely, but what did she care – she held the phone to her ear for a moment. After grumbling a few affirmatives and answering a few no doubt strange questions, Y/N hung up and turned to Jason.

“I’m going to see a friend after dinner,” She gave a wicked grin. “Care to join me?”

***

Jason Todd was glad he wasn’t a villain. He’d rather fight Joker a hundred times over than spend more than a handful of minutes in Arkham Asylum. It was fucking creepy as shit. With damp corridors, low ceilings and rows of flickering lights it was straight out of an old horror story.

But Y/N seemed right at home as she strode beside him, navigating the halls like she knew the place inside and out. It was not reassuring. She strut between the barred doors, paying little attention to the cackling lunatics within. For whatever reason Jason had assumed that they were going to meet a level headed companion. Perhaps one of her colleagues from the bureau or a down to earth socialite that she’d befriended.

Instead, they were being escorted through a fucking prison. It seemed that the woman wasn’t done scarring him just yet. At first, he’d chuckled at the idea; how could she beat making a seasoned Gotham thug piss himself with only her eerie singing? The answer was simple – by dragging him through the prison of Gotham’s most wanted, most of whom were likewise pissing themselves at the mere sight of her.

“We just passed Bane,” Jason gawked, “He fucking bowed.”

“I’ve been at this a hell of a lot longer than you,” She shrugged as if it were that simple. “I figure that being nice to the villains gets you further in life, but some of them – Bane for example – think that’s weakness. So, I had to show him that my kindness is a blessing. One that he should be begging for.”

Jason reminded himself why he wanted her on his side. She was a different breed of vigilante, one that people thought twice about crossing. He doubted that the GCPD ever gave her trouble like they did to him and Bruce. Perhaps she had scared the shit out of them too, or maybe they left her be because all she did was sing her song and everyone fell to their knees.

Not for the first time he wondered what it had been like when she’d first started out. She must have done something to command so much respect. Somewhere along the lines, she must have been forced to prove herself. He wondered if she’d ever killed anyone in pursuit of the power, she now so carelessly wielded. It wasn’t exactly unlikely.

“So, who are we visiting?”

“Harvey Dent.” It fell silent for a moment, as Jason waited for her to explain. But the silence seemed to only stretch on further, as they made their way through the Asylum.

“Two-face?”He exhaled heavily, “Why the fuck are we visiting a half-retired, back alley villain? He’s got no stake in the upcoming war, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t know shit about it.”

“Harvey knows something about everything,” Y/N assured as she straightened out her blazer. “He’ll have plenty of information about your precious little clown fight.”

“You sound like you know him.”

“In the old days - before the whole acid to the side of his face thing – he worked with my father. Putting the criminals, we caught behind bars.” She tugged at her sleeves, hating the fact that she’d been forced to wear the stiff outfit to convince the guards they were on ‘official-business’. “Dad tried to rehabilitate him a few times but I… Look I’m not proud of it, but I set him up to take outa few low-level criminals.”

“You set him up to take people out?” Jason couldn’t hold in his snickers if he tried. “You, little Miss. Perfect Daughter of Gotham? I don’t believe you for a second.”

“That’s funny, bird brain.” Y/N pulled at the shoulder of his own suit, making sure it sat properly. “Anyway, when I was trying to get the court to let me leave Gotham, Harvey helped me. He’s an A-list Gotham asshole but he keeps quiet enough that he can discreetly provide information.”

“I could’ve gotten us the same info.” Jason rolled his eyes, “What’s the point of all this when we could punch it out of the Joker himself.”

They paused in front of a door, “Well that’s not exactly discrete is it? The point of calling me in, was to minimize damages, wasn’t it? If we can get the right information, we could defuse all this before it even starts. So, think of this as your second lesson.”

“Yeah, so lesson one; fight with the Robin symbol.” He scoffed, “Let me guess, lesson two; try talking first? Bruce would be so proud.”

Y/N sighed heavily. She dug a key out of her pocket, wondering how any of the criminals in Arkham, managed to stay there for long at all as she unlocked the door in front of them. A familiar half-melted face greeted her from the metallic table he’d been handcuffed to. Two-face’s signature coin, rolling between his fingers.

“Lesson two is shut up and do as I do.”

A/N: With the second season of Titans finally on Netflix, this story is going to be updated far more frequently so I’d like to ask; After the Joker v Harley fight is cleared up, would you like to see some things from Season 2?

And further on in the story, there might be some discussion around who the reader's mother is. So if you have any thoughts or recommendations on who Y/N’s mother should be, feel free to comment them!

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mochminnie · 5 years ago

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Star Crossed: Harley Quinn(Tv Series) Reader Insert/ OC

Plot: Imagine being Vanessa Rivera and being on the Harley Quinn (TV Series). The reader can always do a self insert and imagine how ever you think she looks like. I don't want to keep writing (y/n) (l/n).

Vanessa is a Super Hero who hangs around with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. (villains or should I say anti heroes?) Cause if Catwoman hang around them so can she. Batman/Bruce Wayne and Alfred are her mentors, working with Commissioner Gordon who's also her father figure., and going to college with your best friend Barbra Gordon/ Batgirl and fighting crime. She came across Red Hood could be possibly be your nemesis?

Chapter 1

Bruce in his bat suit snuck up behind you in your apartment, "Why are you hanging around Quinn and Ivy?" You were surprised. "What the hell, Batman?" You clumsily fall. Which you should've been use to by now. "Don't sneak up on me like that, what are you doing in my apartment anyways, can't I get my damn privacy?!" Shouldn't he be worrying about Joker or another villains?

"Vanessa do you realize your spending your time around criminals, villains-" Rolling your eyes. At his lecture, cutting him off. "Bruce your my mentor. Not my father, I get that you care about me, they would never hurt me. If they were, they would have done it by now. Their my friends." Harley dated Joker, the man who killed your best friend Jason Todd. What's revenge gonna do? "It is my job to take these villains down, to protect this city."

Is he just gonna stand there? "Look Harley didn't do anything to me, she didn't even do anything to Jason, what's a point of going after her? Bruce finally spoke up. "I may not show much emotions but your like my daughter, If they hurt you in any way. I'm sending them straight to Arkham." Without looking at his direction, you kept talking. "Remember that I'm also a crime fighter, with powers, perhaps I don't need gadgets. I'm a god damn witch-" He already leaves with his grappling hook. "Could of just said, your leavin." Muttering.

~Flashback~

Set in

Season 1 Episode 1

When Ivy and Harley broke out of Arkham you found out their not bad people after all. Helped Harley with a new outfit, cause that jester circus outfit was not it.

After you helped Ivy getting her out of the margarita mix, that looked like acid. "Harley for god's sakes the Joker ain't it. 'THANK U, NEXT'. He treated you like crap and he doesn't own you." Ivy thought of you as the only human she can tolerate, while you told Harley she don't need no man. You froze after seeing one of Joker's men exploded and snapped out of it. 'Yeah, that's not romantic like what is this girl thinking.' You thought.

Harley destroyed The Joker's lair. Both Ivy and you thought she's gonna need some help. Ivy loving her new look and that you did great helping her out. She's an independent women as she is.

Ivy invited you to her apartment to have some Thai food. "Oh wait, I'll have a green potato curry." Ivy is telling Harley to text her what she wants. Harley said that she's just right here. Ivy on her phone "Yeah. But, I'm not gonna remember it. And then you won't like what I get you. And then you're gonna get some of mine." Harley grunts rolling her eyes. "-Just fucking text it." Ivy said. while looking at phone then turns to you. "Vanessa, what are ya getting?"

You we're excited, "I'll just go with you and write down what she wants. Oh, I'll get some Pad Thai. I know I'm a basic bitch." Ivy playfully rolling her eyes. "Do you have Venmo?" Then, you both add each other on Venmo.

~End of Flashback~

Vanessa's POV

I hangout with Barbra after are class at my apartment, we tend to have sleepovers. Barbra thought of becoming a crime fighter numerous of times. Oh, I know she got a Batman poster in her room. she should just go for it. She got great hand to hand combat. I don't see why she can't start soon. It would of been badass the both of us could be a duo. Still got school along with Barbra. She knew about my crime fighting. Kinda living the double life, nobody seems to care me keeping it a down low. People probably think about me as a low of the lowest list of heroes. Which can be humiliating. "I just realized I haven't asked how is it working with my dad and Batman?" I'm glad that I can speak to someone about my job. She STAN Batman. Like how can you not? "Barb I been working with them for years.. Your just asking me now?"

"Uhhh, yeah!!! You know how much I STAN him right?!" This is the many times she's Fan girling. I don't really mind. She would look through my closet full of my crime fighting outfits. I would even show her my powers. Whenever I touch an object or a person I can sometimes see their past/future, sense others emotions, telekinesis, and I have many others. "They take their job seriously, at times I would be stunned by his moves, gadgets. You're dad in the other hand he's stress out like all the time." Barbra gave me a 'oh I know' kind of look yet she feels bad for him. "I know he's trying his best to protect Gotham from the villains. He needs a break, plus Batman wouldn't hangout with him. I thought they were friends. But, Batman's harsh." I imitate Batman, by making my voice go deeper and a bit raspy. "We're just coworkers." She, giggles. I even told her that I worked with Teen Titans and what's it like and you were inside the Titan Tower. The both of us get some froyo, it's fucking amazing. It's better than ice cream. Think of all of these topping. "I see that you been around super villains."

"They aren't necessarily villains, I'd say their more of anti-heroes." Barb just gave me a look. "I know what your going to ask me Barb, Batman was pissed off about it, he wants to take her back to Arkham." That's a hustle for trying to convince him that Harley is never like the Joker and never want to hurt the innocent. She's just lost because she was literally was in a bath full of acid that, all she ever want is Joker. She different now she got a crew. She can be something else at times. Running around she can destroy everything and talks to herself.

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optimiist · 5 years ago

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𝚒’𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 ; that there is APRIL RIGGS , notorious for being ( deceitful ) and ( superficial ) , but there are times when she can be ( charismatic ) and ( strategic ) . i've heard that she could pass as a MEGAN FOX doppelganger , but i don't see it . the ( thirty-five ) year - old cis woman has been in town for ( two weeks / majority of her life ) and they are a ( socialite ) by day and murder suspect by night . they tend to spark images of swarovski crystal champagne flutes raised in the air , a 14 carat diamond ring left on the bedside table , a singed undergrad diploma , a stranger in the mirror , a stadium full of empty applause , the lethal combination of a stepford wife and stifler’s mom . you’ll know when they walk by because they always seem to be blasting feeling good by NINA SIMONE . it truly explains why they're known as THE TROPHY .

to know:

UPDATE: her full bio is here. gives more important insight into the relationship she has/had with her mother.

triggers: neglect, brief mention of statutory rape

i got very ‘poetic’ in the ‘a little further’ portion of the app and described her as a trophy in my first bullet point… so there you have it! you see, no matter what she did, she was always only praised for her appearance. just a trophy!!

she was born (in taunwick) to a very successful politician and her trophy husband. therefore, she spent much of her time alone as her mother was busy campaigning or throwing galas while her father, her mother’s trophy husband, went along for the ride.

there were very few times they spent any ‘quality time’ together – picture what i think was the first scene (one of!) in mommie dearest where joan crawford is turning her daughter’s birthday into a photo op. that was pretty much their definition of quality family time. it could be successfully argued that april’s mother figures all came in the form of nannies.

it could also be successfully argued that, unlike lionel, april is part of the daddy issues™ club. as will be very evident afhdliuwdsjn

probably also part of the mommy issues™ club aflhskd

mother riggs probs would go off about wire hangers but... u kno... not to the mommie dearest point...

what should be taken away rn is that she was literally raised to be shallow fhlakjds

she began an entitlement act rather young - there were only two people who saw through it, one of which will be sent in as a wc and the other… being harley!! bc gotta get april connected to the murders somehow!! gotta give her a reason to stay in taunwick too but!! that’s a problem for a future bullet.

there are those annoying kids who refuse to share their toys and all. and they usually grow out of it. but april… did not. elementary? demon child. junior high? demon preteen. high-school? demon teenager.

now!! on the topic of high-school!! if her age is any indication, she is not part of the class of 2000 - if i have my math right (possibly don’t, i once legit studied for a math exam and wound up still only getting a 34), she was part of the class of 2003. that being said, one year of hers did overlap with everyone else’s - she knew chastity as an acquaintance at best, although she still recognized harley as a friend!! good for her!!

that being said, chastity’s murder….. didn’t have much of an effect on her…. ya it’s v tragic….. but it’s been a week guys :\

her alibi: she was in the woods with someone…….. when pressured to say with who bc animals and trees can’t confirm that…… she was ashamed to say it was someone on the lacrosse team. she usually aimed higher :\

anyway, they all graduated and it was HER TIME TO SHINE!! it was HER TIME to USURP THE THRONE and become THAT BITCH of the school!! probably had .3 real friends, what with the exception of the one wc i plan to send in!! that... was inspired by “jenny” by studio killers… we can’t wait to send it.

did everything she perceived as the it girl stuff, what from joining those cool teams to being crowned her own prom queen to……………. sleeping with teachers. 1) alexa play “daddy issues” by the neighbourhood, 2) fire them.

fun fact tho!! she got into a hella good school. as in the ivy that is columbia. by what was….. partially her own merit…… partially her mother giving a very generous donation. have to make the family look PERFECT!!

she received an art history degree on what was….. partially her own merit…… partially sleeping with professors (see two bullets above.)but... graduation came… and what do you do with an art history degree from an ivy…

you marry rich!!!!!!!

in the perfect parallel that she did not even recognize as a parallel because she’s big dumb, she found a marginally older politician (....it’s gonna be a wc so it’s gonna depend on the player but it’s gonna be 50+ hfdlsjak wld make it older but there j aren’t enough resources!!) and was like *martha (...virginia woolf?) vc* “yes, yes. [he] will do.” *end vc*

in spite of having become marginally more introspective than she was in high-school… she still doesn’t recognize her daddy issues :\

they got married. in spite of it being beautiful and expensive and gaudy, she really didn’t feel anything?? was lowkey GLAD her parents weren’t there (and not in the angsty ‘they never show up to anything anyway :\’ way, in the ‘this is literally wasting everyone’s time’ way). their marriage started and continued as a very unfulfilling one. he, in perfect politician style, began having affairs exactly as she, in perfect april style, began having affairs. while they never directly spoke of them, they knew the other was involved with other people.

why april didn’t divorce him is an excellent question. is it out of a certain selflessness, not wanting to do any damage to his career?? is it out of selfishness, not wanting to lose that sugar daddy?? a little bit of both. probably more the latter tho!!

anyway!! her father finally divorced her mother and she was like “i’m…. gonna say i’m gonna go be a good daughter…. go comfort my mother in this trying time….. but jk i j wanna get away from my husband lmao”

again, barely knows her mother. learned various different languages so she could have fair conversations with the foreign nannies.

but….. he has a reputation to keep up!! and his wife straight-up disappearing and leaving him would be 100x worse than a divorce…. so here he comes!! to save the day!! and his reputation!!

as you can imagine, between her husband figuring out her real motive + her…. barely liking her mother, she would be inclined to return to nyc… but that’s where harley’s murder will come in!! the perfect crime!! literally!!

TL;DR:

a former It Girl™ with daddy issues, mommy issues, and a fear of commitment.

CONNECTION IDEAS:

**open to any gender unless otherwise specified

her husband (m): WILL BE BEING SENT INTO THE MAIN.

that connection based off of “jenny” (f/nb): WILL BE BEING SENT INTO THE MAIN.

various affairs: gotta have those if she’s resigned to a new life… still with her husband :\

‘friends’ from the class of 2002-2005: i think that’s the right range for when she would’ve been THAT BITCH in the high-school?? but ya!! ppl chillin w her for the clout and she was like “this is validating”

enemies from the class of 2002-2005: again, i THINK that’s the right range?? but wow. ppl she didn’t even TRY to be nice to. or ppl who j straight-up hated her. there were plenty of reasons!!

hookups / ‘dates’ from the class of 2002-2005: again with the math?? But ya!! more inclined to ‘date’ those cool folks, but apparently didn’t discriminate with her hookups if her alibi is any clue.

neighbors: up in the hills chillin right next to a very watered down political joan crawford, her trophy husband who yeet’d out of existence, and eventually her very shallow daughter and said shallow daughter’s husband who’s probs closer in age to said very watered down political joan crawford. what could go wrong!!

acquaintances of any sort from the class of 2000: gotta get them skels!!

more to come!!

FURTHER:

for a bit of a better idea:

pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/idkimnewwastaken/april/

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1416e2ijuY3viSnzi6HjPz?si=sQmXEc5DQlSKbT2t7XZYeQ

musing tag: https://optimiist.tumblr.com/tagged/april-%7C-musings.

mini stats (to be later extended): optimiist.tumblr.com/as (also again with the font) (and notice the irony i have in my url when combining april and lionel!!)

#april !#april | intro.#taun.intro #UPDATE: same things lionel's intro tags say fhalaiedjskn

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twins-parted · 5 years ago

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Just going to talk about reflecting through the last month about pride & who I am at this point in the game, vs. who I thought I was ... because honestly, idk who the fuck am I anymore ???

Tw: OOC Alcohol Use Mention, CSA Mention, Mental Illness Mentions.

I have never explained this story in full to anyone outside of my cousin, a therapist & my husband, but I’ve made very good friends here that I feel comfortable sharing this information with & So I’m just gonna try to have an open discussion here too:

I am honestly, so confused about myself & as someone with severe OCD, ( stemming from PTSD ), ... who needs labels to feel like I am still in control of myself, I’m not sure what to think anymore & It’s messing with me pretty hard at this moment.

So, I knew I wasn’t completely straight at the age of seven or eight - and it didn’t help that I was being ‘ abused ‘ by a male within my family. I just didn’t like men at all, even before the shit that went down ... but, especially not after. I constantly felt - and occasionally still feel - scared & unclean if I have to be alone with dudes 1 on 1, that I don’t know for extended periods of time. That’s where the PTSD comes in.

( It’s important to note: I have always primarily felt attraction to other women aesthetically, romantically & sexually. As long as I can remember, even before I could put it into words. This is the part that gets sorta confusing later. )

In middle school I had come to terms with the idea I just didn’t have an interest in guys, and while my family had sorta gathered that much, I didn’t project that at school because I was afraid of being singled out for being different. ( Not that I had an interest in any of the people around me, but I also didn’t want any of my peers to feel uncomfortable around me either. )

By high school, I recognized that while aesthetically I liked the idea of certain boys in my classes - I wasn’t interested in them in romantic or, um - - - horndoggy ways. They were merely a pawn to get me to the top of the high school popularity chain. ( Was it a shitty mindset to hold ? Hell yes ! I understand that was a terrible reason to like them ... was I a stupid kid ?! ALSO YES. Please cut me some slack, I would never condone that shit past the age of 16. Rest assured, I’m not this person anymore. ) I mean, I just hated being a nobody.

I was also more open about who I was as a person, to my best friends (2). So, you can all imagine the surprise I felt when me and Harley clicked. I had never in a million years envisioned myself feeling genuine romantic feelings toward a guy. I just ... it wasn’t supposed to be in the cards. I hadn’t ever held romantic or sexual interest in them, not seriously anyway. Yet, here he was ... kind & soft & caring & open-minded, but opinionated. He was not the epitome of the classic southern redneck as the other guys in my classes were raised to be. I hadn’t met a guy like him before.

That was refreshing, but scary to me.

( I’m going to be very honest here: outside of fictional men or celebrities I’d never stand a chance with ... I really didn’t give guys a second thought at all. Until Harley. He was everything I needed in a partner & he still is. )

Eventually, we started dating and at about three years in, at a college dorm party - I finally got super drunk & the entire weird history of my sexuality came out.

I want to be clear, I didn’t ever want him to feel like I was trying to hide it. That’s not how functional relationships were supposed to work & I didn’t want it thrown in my face later if he found out, you know, not from me. And he understood, and accepted that & admitted he also was not 100% hetero either & while that was reassuring - it has also ( to this day ) put me in the position of always worrying that he thinks I won’t be faithful or that I didn’t really love him and I need a coverup. I recognize those are all stupid fucking fears to have after being together almost 10 years now, but I have so much anxiety I can’t articulate about this that I feel sick when it is mentioned.

( Again, I voice this fear & he promises he doesn’t feel that way & I know he isn’t lying about that because he’s very open, honest & sincere. )

I just ... it’s weird knowing if anything happened to him, or if we had to go our separate ways: I would never feel honest romantic / sexual attraction to a man again.

I don’t like feeling like I don’t know what I am, or who I am, or that it’s too complicated to bother defining.

Maybe I just don’t belong in the LGBTQA+ community anymore ??

It just feels like pansexual isn’t the label for me ... but I don’t know. Maybe i’m overanalyzing things, but it felt wrong for me to participate in pride this year. Like I wasn’t allowed. I don’t know.

I dunno, I just killed a bottle of Irish whiskey because it’s been weighing heavy on me & I needed to voice it. If this doesn’t make sense, sorry. I’ll be deleting this in the morning anyway out of embarrassment probably, but I had to get it off my chest and sorta into words so it would stop fucking with me.

It just feels like a disservice to myself & you guys not to be honest about this when it has affected my mood for a month or so now & I’m pretty sure most of you could tell somethings been up.

#TBD #• Consider My Existence A Never - Ending ' BRUH ' Moment. • ( OOC. )

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lyssismagical · 5 years ago

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Say That I’m a Rainbow

Read on AO3

Day Two of Whumptober: Explosion

Peter puts his head down on the cold wood of his school desk, taking a deep breath. This is something he’s kept a secret for far too long and it’s starting to take its toll on Peter’s wellbeing.

Tony doesn’t know Peter’s bisexual.

And sure, Peter’s dealt with this being a secret for far too long, and Tony’s not the type of person to assume someone’s sexuality, but Peter had panicked a few months ago and told Tony he was straight. It was stupid, Peter was just more terrified than he’d like to admit.

He tried to push down all his emotions and he tried to pretend that he wasn’t bothered by the hetero-teasing he was getting. Yeah, MJ’s really pretty, she’s sweet and pretty, and Tony teases him about his friendship with MJ, but he almost wants to get teased about being friends with Harley who’s also pretty.

He’s not in the position to be in a relationship right now with his insanely busy schedule and the fact that he nearly dies on the daily, he wouldn’t want to put anyone through that kind of stress, but he wants to be able to talk about girls and boys with somebody.

Sure, he’s got May, who’s great. She’s always been one hundred percent supportive of Peter’s sexuality, even when Peter talked about a famous couple for a week nonstop, both of them being just so pretty. She’s so supportive, but sometimes Peter wants to talk to the closest thing he’s got to a father-figure about how big Thor’s muscles are or how gracefully Natasha moves when she fights without it being a big deal.

“You know there’s a really easy solution to this,” MJ says, barely even looking up from her book. “You could just, you know, tell him.”

“What if he flips out? What if he takes my suit? What if-”

“Chill out. He’s going to take it well. He might be a little confused as to why you told him you were straight. Which, I’m still confused about, but I’m just saying, just tell him you’re bi like in Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

“You remember how well that went for her,” Peter says, rolling his eyes. “This is a big deal!”

MJ sighs, finally setting her book down on the table. “I know it is, Peter. I’ve been dealing with ignorant assholes for as long as I can remember. I get it. It’s hard. But Tony is a good person, he’ll understand. Plus, doesn’t he swoon over Captain America like all the time.”

Peter just groans in response, putting his head back on the table a little harder than necessary. He knows there’s like a 98% chance that Tony will be totally okay with this, but it’s that little uncertain two percent that he thinks will ruin his entire life. Tony holds too much power over him, like his suit and his Lab Nights and the Avengers and the possibility of their relationship blossoming into something closer to father-son.

Though, Peter’s more than aware that they’ll never be able to be a father-son relationship until Peter stars unravelling the lies he’s told.

Starting with how he told Tony he was straight.

“I can’t believe you brought up Captain America during my sexuality crisis. I can’t handle anymore emotions right now,” Peter grumbles angrily.

“It’s not a sexuality crisis,” Ned says, dropping his tray of food onto the table across from Peter. “You already know your sexuality.”

“That doesn’t help! She brought up Captain America while I was having a crisis. That turns anything into a sexuality crisis!”

“You’re hopeless,” MJ says.

“Trust me, I know.”

Peter chickens out again at his Lab Night and over the next weekend and for the rest of the month, constantly opening his mouth but the words never form.

It all comes to a halt one day. An Avengers Mission.

The explosion knocks Peter off his feet, sending him flying backwards into the wall and to the floor, head smacking against the floor with a white flash of pain and then everything crumbles down around him.

He wakes up before he really remembers he was asleep in the first place. He thinks the dust around him is snow for a moment, brought back to a time when Ben took him up to Canada over Winter Break and they had so much fun in the snow. Reality comes crashing in when he realizes where he is.

“Peter?” he hears his name being called somewhere to his left. He turns his head slowly, feeling blood sticking to the side of his face. He squints through the settling dust and dirt, to find Tony not too far away from him.

“Wha’-” he tries, but his tongue is dry and useless, and his head is pounding.

“Bomb, I think. Rogers is on his way,” Tony informs. “We’ll just be down here for an hour at most. That looks nasty though.”

Peter looks down to try to find what Tony’s referring to, blood clinging to his jaw and sticking his curls to the side of his face. His arm is bent at an unnatural angle and there’s blood making the suit an even darker red.

“Shit,” he mutters, slowly lowering himself back to the ground as the tight space swims. He wishes those cartoons where real where if he hit his head, birds would fly in a little circle, but instead, the blood continues to drip and there’s no pretty blue birds to accompany the dizziness.

Tony’s suddenly at his side, cradling his limp body into the superhero’s suitless chest. The Iron Man suit is across the room, holding up the crumbling remains of the warehouse.

“You’re okay, kiddo, just a little banged up,” Tony says. Peter ignores the words and tries to focus on Tony’s worried brown eyes.

“’m I gonna die?” Peter slurs, blinking slowly up at the man. His man, he remembers. His… He doesn’t know who Tony is to him. “’cause if I do, I wanna… I wanna say s’mething.”

Tony sighs harshly through his nose. His mouth moves as he says something, but Peter’s ringing ears won’t pick it up, so he says it anyways.

“’m bisexual,” he says. He figures it’s probably not the best time, but he doesn’t want to die while Tony still thinks he’s straight. “No more lies.”

Tony says something again and Peter hates that he doesn’t know whether it’s negative or positive, but the soft calloused hands against his hair tell him it must be a positive reaction. His hair is gross and stick, he wants to tell Tony, but his mouth won’t cooperate anymore, limp and clumsy.

He vaguely remembers Tony’s hand, a constant pressure against the side of his head. There’s a flash of blue that he thinks might be Captain America and a blur of red that he assumes is Natasha. His body is moved and shaken, but he focuses on the steadying hand in his hair to make sure he doesn’t drift off. Something about sleep being bad for head wounds, he thinks. He’s not too sure if this counts as conscious, but he knows he’s not fully asleep, so he hangs on anyway.

In a weird sort of drifty-state, he focuses on Tony’s hand and the occasional pokes and prods from Doctor Banner, he assumes, and the hand that tucks into his at some point. He hopes it’s Captain America, but he doubts Tony would let Captain America hold his hand.

“You ‘kay?” he finds himself asking when he feels like maybe he’ll finally get to hear the response.

“Me?” Tony says and Peter’s just glad he can hear the exasperated response. “You’re the one lying in the hospital bed, you absolute dumbass. I cannot believe-”

“No,” Peter whines, blurrily squinting up at Tony. “’m bi.”

Tony sighs. “It’s in total Parker fashion that you decided to come out to me while you were on the brink of dying. That seemed very you, over-the-top and dramatic. Wouldn’t have it any other way, would you? Couldn’t spare me the heart attack?”

At Peter’s unimpressed expression, Tony continues, “Yes, I’m cool with your sexuality, kid. That shouldn’t have ever been doubted. Throughout my playboy phase, I slept with whoever would cross my path as long as they said yes. I know it’s not the same, but I wouldn’t have a negative reaction to anything like that. I want you to feel comfortable talking to me about that sort of thing.”

Peter leans forwards, whispering as best as he can, he’s pretty he’s drugged up on his heavy painkillers, otherwise he’d have never said it out loud, but he still whispers, “Captain ‘merica and Miss Black Widow and Thor and everyone… They’re very pretty.”

Tony laughs loudly, pushing Peter back down onto the hospital bed, rolling his eyes overdramatically.

“Oh my god, kid. You’re going to be the death of me,” he jokes.

“I get ‘o watch ‘em train and their muscles, Mister Stark,” Peter continues dreamily. His silly celebrity crushes are on people he now gets to see on the daily. Tony can’t even begin to imagine how awkward that must’ve been the first time Peter talked to them. “They’re all just so pretty, it’s to’ally unfair.”

Tony nods along, rolling his eyes even more dramatically.

Peter gasps, “Have you seen girls? They’re so pretty, Mister Stark.”

“Counterpoint, boys are also very pretty as you’ve been pointing out.”

Peter groans dramatically, flopping back into the pillows. “You’re so right. How am I ever going to survive high school?”

“Get some sleep, Spider-Baby.”

“Sbider-Baby!” Peter exclaims, giggling. “Bider-Man!”

“Oh my god, if you continue, I’ll add sedatives to your IV’s.”

Peter falls quiet and Tony almost thinks he’s fallen asleep. Almost.

And then,

“Bambi.”

#whumptober2019 #no.2 #explosion #tw:blood #irondad fic #lyss writes #fluffier than whumptober is supposed to be but oops #spiderbaby #bisexual peter parker owns my heart

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