#Yes I made Harley Say | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dmysterioblog · 1 year

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♢ Crazy

Paring: Harley Quinn x psychiatrist!reader

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

Warnings; darkish, smut, kidnapping,

Word Count: 2.0k

A/n: Nothing…

You were known as Dr. L/n. You were the greatest psychiatrist in Gotham. Recently you were given the offer to treat the famous Harley Quinn. You accepted, of course, you loved a challenge.

“Be careful, she is crazier than you think and not many people have come out alive.”

“Oh, I know. I’m willing to take the risk.”

They opened the door for you and you went in. You looked around the room. The paint on the walls was falling off, there was a metal table in the middle with two chairs. You found Harley huddled up in the corner of the dull room. You hear her distant mumbling from where you stood. You walked closer but not too close, you didn’t want to scare her off.

“Hey Harley, my name is Dr. L/n, your new psychiatrist,” you say softly not to startle her. She slowly lifted her head to look at you. You were met with her icy blue gaze. Her eyes screamed ‘crazy’, but there was something more underneath that, almost a hint of curiosity. She was in a straightjacket for your and her protection.

“Why don’t we sit over there and we can start?” you carefully said pointing to the chairs in the middle of the room. Her gaze followed your finger, then she gave a single nod. You walked closer to try and help her but she made a gesture to try and bite you and you jumped away from her. She started to laugh hysterically.

“I bite, doctor,” she said with a wicked smile. You should’ve known she would do something like that. You took a deep breath and collected yourself.

“Can you get up by yourself then?”

She pushed herself against the wall and started to get up herself. She plopped herself in the chair and you did the same. You looked over at her and she was still looking at you with a mischievous expression.

“Why don’t we start with a simple question? How are you feeling?” You knew it was a dumb question but you had to start somewhere. She just stared at you and started to giggle.

“You know the voices usually tell me to kill anyone that stands in front of me but not right now,” she said while tilting her head to the side.

“So, you hear voices that tell you what to do?”

“Not all the time. Sometimes it’s just me doing what I want.”

“Are you hearing voices right now?”

“No. Wait, yes! Actually no.”

“Okay, well is there anything in particular that stop the voices?”

“Not really they talk when they wanna talk, ya know?”

“Do you think your relationship with Joker caused the voices to begin?” Her eyes darken.

“DO YOU EVER MENTION THAT MAN EVER AGAIN!” She yelled getting up from her chair.

“Hey, Harley, it's ok! I won’t ask about him again, okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Please sit down.” She huffed but obeyed your request.

You continued with the session but you didn’t get much out of her. She kept looking around the room humming to herself. She also kept looking at you up and down from time to time. In the end, you thanked her for cooperating and left.

The guard seemed surprised when you walked out of the room without a scratch. You walked back to your car with an uneasy feeling about Harley. Not a bad feeling but something you shouldn’t feel for a patient, even less someone like Harley Quinn.

🃃🃟🃃🃟

The sessions kept getting more frequent by Harley’s request surprisingly. She talked more and at some points, she seemed like a normal person but the glint in her eyes would always come back. Each session she got more flirty and charming towards you.

You, of course, tried your best to ignore it but you would find yourself thinking back to the things she would say in your alone time. If you kept this up, you were going to lose your job.

You were now going through security again to see Harley. When you opened the door to where the session was being held, you were met with a bruised Harley.

“Oh my god! What happened to you?!” Out of worry, you gently held her face with your hand to get a closer look.

“Some guy tried to take my lunch so I punched him and he punched me back,” she shrugged, her eyes tracing every detail on your face.

“Are you gonna kiss me doctor?” she got closer to your face until her lips hovered over yours and for some reason, you didn’t back away. After a few seconds of staring at each other, she finally kissed you. You froze at first but returned the kiss.

You brought your other hand to cup her face being careful not to put too much pressure on the bruised side of her face. So many thoughts ran through your head in that moment. Her lips are so soft. She is so beautiful. What if someone walks in? When you thought of that, you immediately pulled away.

“We can’t do this Harley, I could lose my job.”

“Get me out of here then.”

“You know I can't do that. I'm sorry but I'm going to have to end this here before it gets any further.”

“Y/n don’t do this,” she pleaded.

“I'm sorry Harley, but this is going to be our last session.” You gathered your things and knocked on the door for the guards to let you out. Once they opened it, you looked at her one last time before leaving.

🃃🃟🃃🃟

Harley sat in her cell thinking of you. How could you leave her like that? She wasn’t going to give up that easily though. She was going to do anything to get you back. But first, she needed to escape from the asylum.

🃃🃟🃃🃟

You sat in your office doing a patient's paperwork when your secretary barged into your office.

“Evelyn, what’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news, now!”

You quickly grabbed your office TV remote. When you turned it on and looked for the news channel and turned up the volume.

“Breaking news. Harleen Quinzel or better known as Harley Quinn has escaped the Arkham Asylum. Please be on the lookout for her. If you see her, call the number on the screen.”

Your heart dropped. Did she do this to get to you? How would you face her? Evelyn turned off the TV before turning to you.

“I think you should stay at home for a few days. At least until they get her just to be safe. I can clear your schedule if you’d like?”

“I think that’s a good idea. Thank you so much, Evelyn.” You gathered your things and headed home.

When you finally got home, you parked your car in your garage before making your way inside your house. You unlocked your door and walked in. You took off your shoes, placed your things on the counter, and made your way upstairs.

When you walked into your room, you noticed your window was open, which was weird since you always close your windows. When you tried to close it someone came from behind you and put a cloth over your mouth. You began to struggle to get away from the person’s grip.

“Shh sh sh, just breathe in for me doctor. We can finally be together now.” That was the last thing you heard before losing consciousness.

🃃🃟🃃🃟

When you woke up you noticed that you weren’t in your bed or your room. Flashbacks from the night before started to flow through your mind. Somehow you didn’t feel the presence of Harley sitting in the dark corner of the room.

“You’re finally awake!” she said coming out of the dark. You whipped your head towards her.

“Harley…” You just stared at her as she slowly walked towards the bed you were lying on, “Harley, where are we?” you asked carefully.

“You don’t have to worry about that now doctor, we can finally be together,” she smiled, sitting next to you.

“Harley, all of Gotham is looking for you. You have to let me go okay?”

“Of course, we can still be together. They are never going to find us here.”

“What about me?! My job?! My life?!” you got off of the bed and started to tear up.

“You can start a new life with me in this house, you don’t have to worry, I'll take care of everything.” She came closer to you and brought you into a hug, petting your hair. You wanted to back away from her but your body didn’t let you.

“Relax Y/n. Everything is going to be just fine.” She pulled away and cupped your face like you did before leaving her in the asylum. She brought you into a soft kiss in which you gave in. Slowly, she guided you back to the bed until the back of your knees hit the side of the bed. She softly pushed you onto the bed and straddled your hips.

You wanted to protest but she just shushed you with a kiss. She began to take your clothes off, item after item until you were completely bare before her. She kissed down your neck to your collarbone, leaving a trail of love bites in her wake. She placed her thigh in between yours and you started grinding against her.

“I couldn’t let you go that easily, doctor. You’re the only thing that stops the voices and for that, I'm going to make you feel so good just breathe for me okay?” She took off her clothes as well before moving her thigh away from your core. Without warning, she slipped her fingers into your pussy while sucking on your breasts.

“Harley!” you gasped, your hand coming up to cover your moans.

“No no no, I wanna hear you, baby,” she said, pinning your hands with her free hand. Eventually, her mouth joined her skilled fingers, sucking on your clit.

“Oh God!” you moaned loudly while grinding your hips against her face. You were getting closer to the edge but before you could get there, Harley stopped.

“Why’d you-”

“Shh, I’m gonna give you what you want just be patient.” She interlocked your legs so that her pussy was aligned with yours. She leaned down and pulled you into a passionate kiss before she started rubbing her pussy against yours. You both moaned from the pleasure that cursed through your bodies.

“You like that doctor? Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes, yes! It feels so good, Harley. Please don’t stop.” She started going faster while still kissing you, all your moans going against her lips. Her movements started to get sloppy, letting you know she was close.

“Are you close, baby?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, unable to make coherent words.

“Come for me.” And you did.

“Harley!” You cried out when you reached your climax. Your hands gripping onto Harley’s back for support. You lied on the bed panting while Harley moved away, not before she rubbed her fingers in your wetness and brought them to your mouth.

“Open,” she commanded and you proceeded. You sucked her fingers clean, humming at the taste. She then licked your pussy clean before laying down on the bed next to you.

“You’re mine now and nothing will ever take you from me again,” she whispered into your ear before bringing your body closer to hers. You wanted to be scared of that sentence but it brought a sense of comfort that someone wanted you. She wanted you.

“I’m all yours,” you said into her ear. You felt her hold on you tighten a bit when you said that. She drew invisible circles against your arm until you fell asleep.

🃃🃟🃃🃟

#harley quinn #harleen quinzel #harley quinn x reader #x reader #darkish #smut #fanfic #gotham #dc comcis

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reveluving · 7 months

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the bump in the night ; rick flag x reader

summary: someone made Mrs Flag cry, and her family is not having it.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, shadow-magic f!reader, reverse comfort & humour!

a/n: this AU is based on this piece I made a while back, 'cause you already know I can't do this special without hubby Rick and the kids! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.' ;

Coming home to his daughter's hugs had become an everyday thing if Rick didn't have to work overtime, but if the flicker of sadness in her eyes was anything to go by, something had to have happened while he was away.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.”

It was the same thing she told her brothers when they got home from school, and just like them, it was enough for Rick to get the whole picture.

Ah, Mrs Bedford. Or as the neighbourhood youngsters, children and teenagers alike, like to call her 'the modern witch of the road', and not in the cool way. Her husband was no better, always bugging you at any given opportunity. The worst part was Mrs Bedford always antagonized you for it, even if she knew you didn’t entertain her husband’s behaviour. It was also extremely hypocritical of her, considering she herself has tried to make her move on Rick. A lot. Only to be met with disappointment each time.

Her children were just as bad, too, to put it lightly.

“What did she say?” It was the green light Irene needed before she explained what had happened to a T, courtesy of her father’s eagle eye. Unlike most days, it was just you and Irene visiting the park since your sons had football practice.

The two of you were feeding the ducks when Mrs Bedford came up to you.

“You on your own?” Was the first thing she asked you before you questionably said ‘yes’, despite Irene being there too, and the little girl realized Mrs Bedford wouldn’t have gone off on a tangent about you and your ‘possibly tainted history’ if her father or brothers were around in the first place.

“I don’t know what you did but I can see it in your eyes, Flag. You’re no saint. You can fool the others with your little flower shop and your so-called angelic kids, but not me.”

Though Mrs Bedford knew nothing about your powers or your time in Belle Reve, instead, spewing hate out of jealousy and hatred for you for being the favourable neighbour, she wasn’t completely wrong. You have hurt people, you’ve even killed some, but they were for the greater good. Since your freedom from hell on earth, you’ve barely used your umbrakineses. It wasn’t until the birth of your children, to which all three of them gained your abilities did you realized you couldn’t run from who you really were—it wasn’t right nor fair to them.

Then, telling them your story as a criminal and how their dad was once your enemy was another thing. You weren’t sure what reaction you were expecting, but it was certainly not amazement and sparkles in their eyes. As they grew older, they began to make sense of how their parents somehow knew people like Aunt Harley, Uncle Robert and hell, even Nanaue.

And at that point in time, Mrs Bedford reminded you of Waller, turning you into submission as you could do nothing but listen to her make a mockery out of you for turning over a new leaf. Irene had to watch your face drop as the woman insulted you, and she knew she had to tell her family about it.

Irene insisted that she was fine about heading home early, even if you tried to convince her otherwise. She wanted nothing more than to do something about that glazed look in your eyes.

As soon as you stepped foot into the living room, a tear rolled down your cheek. You couldn't help but apologize to her, to everyone if they were with you then. You weren’t entirely sure if it was because you seemed weak over a bunch of words or their fate of ending up with you as the wife and a mother of their family.

Irene shook her head, hugging you with her face in your tummy.

"You're not a mean person, mama. You're the nicest and coolest mama we could ever ask for, and we love you."

It was simple, something you've heard of thousands of times in your lifetime, but you very much needed it today.

Ever the sweet girl, she accompanied you as you lay in your bed, telling you random stories about what she painted during art class or what she ate at lunch, anything but the time Mrs Bedford’s son, Kyle pushed her off the swing while his older brother, Blake laughed and praised him for doing so. You didn’t need to know that.

Not yet.

You listened with a warm smile, embarrassed but nonetheless thankful for how observant she was of your feelings before eventually dozing off.

Irene was careful yet quick to jump off the bed, running downstairs to shush Richie and Ethan as they returned home.

The more she explained, the brighter their eyes unnaturally glowed. Richie was starting to look like their father as he crossed his arms, listening to her like a police officer, while Ethan seemed like he was already thinking of ways to counter the Bedford’s undignified acts.

Basically, the Bedfords were not the greatest people. Each and every one of them.

Though they had a myriad of ideas, they weren’t sure how much their father would appreciate it, even if it was for your sake. Still, they thanked Irene for being there for you, promising that something would be done, no matter what it would be.

For now, they had a plan, hoping it could bring a smile to your face.

After an unexpected nap, you came down to find your kids huddled on the couch, whispering and hushing each other. Curious, you approached them.

Ethan was the first to notice you, offering you a grin before showing you what was in their hands, “Look, ma, I think we got it.”

You leaned in to take a closer look, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of life on their palms. There, they showed you the differing mass of shadows they conjured, a tougher one you just taught them about a week ago. You have always loved this trick as a kid, and it only aided your sanity when you were by your lonesome in the penitentiary. In a way, you were replacing what life truly was by making your own, even if they were temporary because there was no telling when or if you’d ever be free.

Yet, here they were, prompting joy and pride as they held the wispy animals of their choice; Richie with what seemed to be an adorable little puppy, Ethan creatively emulated a bioluminescent jellyfish and Irene…

Oh, Irene.

She scarcely remembered how much you loved making her laugh by conjuring butterflies when she was still very little if not for the twins confirming it.

The butterfly was as small as her hand, but the wings were majestic, idly flapping before flying over to you, leaving cloudy black trails and landing on your outstretched finger.

You stared at their creations ever so lovingly, already on the brink of tears. You were just as mad at yourself for doubting your worth, and your potential, just because of the things you had to do in the past, for the sake of the person you were now.

You embraced Irene in a tight hug before pulling your boys in as well. You sniffled, absolutely joyous and blessed to be surrounded by the most loving people. Nothing could deter you from this, not even as the shadow puppy yipped and chased the jellyfish and butterfly in excitement. Your cat, Tofu, must’ve heard the commotion, too, as she came from the kitchen to check, only to be frightened and jump on the couch with you as the puppy came running to her.

Rick finally arrived about two hours later, coming home to hear laughter before he saw Irene running across the room, followed by Tofu and the shadow puppy in tow. The jellyfish laid on Richie’s head like a nest whereas the butterfly decided to make Ethan’s shoulder its home as they hung out with you on the couch.

“Daddy!” Irene greeted him before running over to him. He didn’t question the questioning look she gave him just yet and instead, hoisted her up, laughing as Tofu and the puppy pawed at his bootlaces.

“What’s going on here?” He raised his brows, amused by what could be described as a fever dream of a sight.

“The kids learnt how to make little lives.” You giggled, allowing Rick to sit next to you as you scooted over.

“And I got a new hat,” Richie gestured to the jellyfish, who he has now dubbed as Jelly. As if it understood, Jelly immediately floated away, leaving Richie’s hair flattened, “Never mind.”

You shared a laugh as he deadpanned before you turned to Rick, “Was work okay?”

“Yeah, the usual. Decorated the place today, actually.” He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery and showing you and the kids the spookily tacky decor that furnished his workplace.

“Did you really paint ‘dead inside, don’t open’ on the entrance door?” The twins gawked.

“Fitting, ain't it?” Rick joked, prompting smiles and chuckles from you once more before falling back on the couch, “But at least I’m off tomorrow, so I was thinking we could eat out for dinner.”

“Oh! We should head to Pop’s since they’re also offering their apple betty.” Ethan suggested.

“Well, I think that’s a good idea, so,” Richie trailed off, raising anticipation from the rest of you before jumping off the couch and running up the stairs. Ethan and Irene simultaneously gasped before the former took his sister out of Rick’s arms to chase their brother together. You and Rick could only watch with delight as Tofu and the shadow creatures followed them too.

“Everything okay?” He wanted to know, but he wouldn’t pry if you weren’t ready to tell him.

“Yeah,” You nodded, gazing down for a moment before continuing, “Something happened earlier but…”

“Richie! You better not lock the door or I swear to God!” Ethan’s voice rang out from upstairs, followed by Irene’s ‘language!’, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement.

“It’s all good now.” You reassured him. You knew you could’ve told him, but it wasn’t worth dwelling on. You had children to nurture and a husband to take on the world with.

“The Bedfords?” He guessed. If it wasn’t them, then it had to be Mr Walker.

“The Bedfords,” You confirmed with a tight smile, “I’m just more upset that Irene was there to hear it.”

You didn’t explain any further and Rick took it as a sign to drop it. If they were able to make you this upset, then it was best to ask the kids instead.

“I’m sorry,” He pulled you to his chest, planting a slow and gentle kiss on your forehead. He rubbed your back, sighing at the very mention of that family. Rick loathed that they were influential enough to be one of the higher-ups of the school’s PTA, though he was confident that money was involved in it too. He hated that they were reasons why you’d come home ranting about how Mrs Bedford bugged you again, or when he had to make sure Mr Bedford knew he was making a promise and not an empty threat whenever it involved their kids and his, "You know I can talk to them."

It would do no good, but it was worth trying.

"No, you know how the Bedfords are. Don’t worry, okay? Not now,” You kissed the inside of his palm before pressing your lips against his, soft, sensual and safe. Rick moved forward, deepening the kiss as held the nape of your neck. You pulled away but not before nuzzling his nose, “We should be celebrating.”

He nodded, though he knew it would only linger in his mind for a while. Still, he adhered to your wishes, standing up before offering you his hand to get ready, “Right, right. Shall we?”

You snorted, placing your hand in his the way a princess would when a prince asks for a dance. Unexpectedly, he twirled you around, wrapping his arms around you he pulled you in, chest to chest. You playfully smacked him, though it did very little to wipe off the pleased look on his face as the two of you headed to your room.

You and the boys were the first to head out to the front yard, chatting and evaluating the decors of the houses while waiting for Rick and Irene.

“What happened today?” He asked his daughter quietly as they stood at the front door, helping with her shoes while she slid on a jacket.

“Mrs Bedford was saying bad stuff to mama while we were at the park.” She whispered back, swinging her arms as she watched her father tie her shoelace, “Like, really mean stuff. No one was around except us so she was kinda loud, too.”

Rick fumed, clenching his jaw as he could already hear and picture whatever nonsense she loved to spit out.

“Mama got kinda quiet when we came home, and then she started crying. About how she’s sorry she was a criminal and how we’re ‘stuck’ with her powers.” She added. If anything, she and the boys thought your abilities were the coolest thing to have ever happened to them.

He shook his head—who wouldn't crack after being subjected to their ways for so long? He hummed, hiding the seething resentment by ruffling Irene's hair.

"Can you help me distract your mother while I talk to the boys for a bit?" She nodded diligently, skipping over to you before Rick called out to his sons, "Need some help, boys."

They rushed over, glancing at you before Ethan spoke up first, "She told you?"

"Yeah." Rick replied as he locked the door.

"Can't we do something about it?" Richie asked with a frown.

"You boys are not punching Blake again." Rick reminded them with a small smile.

"You didn't seem to mind it," Ethan mirrored his father's amusement, "He was yelling at our teammate and encouraged his troll brother to push Irene off a swing."

"I'm mad, too," Rick was more than mad, but he couldn't let his emotions run wild, "Look, we'll think of something, alright? For now, just make sure she's happy."

That's all they ever wanted.

The drive to Pop's was a lively one, and so was the dinner itself. Though you knew you'd be thinking about Mrs Bedford's words every once in a while, the smiles and laughter of your family were already a welcoming distraction as it is.

Midnight rolled around, and everyone had returned to their rooms with sore cheeks and a full stomach. You were the first to slip under the covers after a shower, hoping you wouldn't be too tired as you waited for Rick, though it didn't work.

By the time Rick got out of the bathroom, you were peacefully asleep, your face just a breath away from your husband's pillow as his scent soothed you like no other.

Rick smiled to himself, changing into his PJs before sitting on your side of the bed. The dip roused you from your slumber just a little.

"Rick?" You murmured, fluttering your lashes tiredly.

"Forgot to get some water," He caressed your cheek before bending down to kiss it, "I'll be back."

You mustered a closed-eye smile and before you knew it, you drifted off once again, lulled by the way he patted your back.

Once the coast was clear, he moved off the bed, silently slipping out and closing the door before heading over to the twins' room. He knocked on the door, just enough for them to hear before doing the same with Irene's door and headed downstairs.

Rick sat down at the dining table with a glass of cold water, arms crossed and lost in his own thoughts before hearing light footsteps approaching.

Richie, Ethan and Irene carefully pulled their chairs back before taking a seat, and just like that, the discussion began.

But it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere and at some point, they just started shit-talking.

"Man, I wish coach would just kick Blake out." Ethan groaned, his head falling back.

"Tell me about it. He's shit at quarterback." Richie clicked his tongue.

"Boys." Rick warned them, partially because his youngest was listening.

"Sorry." They apologized but Irene didn't seem to mind.

"How about…" She chimed in, tapping her finger on her chin, "We scare them?"

"Like…?" Richie cocked his head, hoping she'd say more than just that.

"I don't know, I just thought it'd be cool since it's Halloween and stuff. And, well, maybe we could use our powers, but I know mama and daddy wouldn't want that." She shrugged, pouting because she hadn't thought it far enough.

"It would be a miracle to scare them without using our powers in the first place," Richie sighed, looking over to his father, "What do you think, dad?"

No reply.

"Dad?" Ethan followed suit as the three of them raised their brows.

“How far are you in your shadow puppet practice?” Rick asked out of the blue, staring ahead as though imagining whatever idea he had played out.

“Uh, pretty far, I think? Ma taught us how to merge our shadows into one if we wanted to make a bigger animal.” Richie answered, earning affirmative nods from his siblings.

“How big?”

“Like, this big!” Irene opened her arms wide to let him know just how big of a monster they would be able to make if they wanted to. They haven’t, there was no reason to, but the more their father asked, the more it piqued their interest.

Rick thought it through for a moment. It has been a while since he has seen you make that one particular lifeform, but it was worth a shot. If it were able to render Waller speechless, then it’ll definitely make the Bedfords piss their pants.

No actual attacks, and definitely no killings. But he’ll make sure they shudder at the mere thought of Halloween. Put the fear of God in them. They had it coming, too, stomping on other neighbours’ happiness for years just for the fun of it.

He just had to play it safe.

He slowly broke into a sinister smile.

“You three ever heard of a hellhound?”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: ahh hubby rick <3 ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#reve's quirky reverie 🕷#— reve's reverie 🌹#rick flag #rick flag x reader #rick flag x female reader #rick flag x f!reader #rick flag x you #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #colonel flag #colonel rick flag #colonel rick flag x reader #tss 2021 #tss #joel kinnaman #husband rick #hubby rick

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fandomfucker · 1 month

Note

Do you think you could do one for Rhea were it’s all about how she posts about her girlfriend on social media? Like she posts about her girl and the fans just go wild for it? Can make it fluff, smut, whatever takes your fancy. Could be headcannons if you want? ❤️‍🔥🌸

YES!! I love this one cause I literally think about these things all the time. Doing headcannons so I can fit more in🫡

Lemme know if yall want a part 2!

I've said it before, I'll say it again; Rhea loves doing TikTok trends with you

Whether you're running into her and she swings you around or your eyes are inches away from her tits, she loves them and she loves the reactions ya'll get from the fans

She constantly reposts fanart of not just the two of you, but fanart of just you

There's even some of you and her dogs which she commissioned the og artists to paint on a canvas so she could put them up around the house

And edits of course

She lives for the edits people make of you

You're not super active on twitter however Rhea will always find some way to flirt with you on every single post you make, no matter what its about. A winking emoji, some heart eyes, or the filthiest implications

and the mosherz always go batshit when she does it

she also reposts ever single one of your posts to hype you up no matter what it is

She also loves to just take pictures/videos of you when you're completely unaware and just totally natural because those are the things she loves most about you

Every milestone post has a caption so long most people dont even bother to finish reading it

of course its all about how much she loves you and how proud she is of you but omg its so long

she will bully the fuck out of anyone leaving even the slightest mean comment

like to the point they delete their account

she just loves to show you off every chance she gets

because you're hers and she's yours and everyone needs to know that

every thirst pic/video she posts goes to you first so you're always the first to see them

You also get bonus content thats not posted😉

sometimes you'll be in one of her tiktoks or thirst posts from Raw (or a ppv) and the caption is always something super raunchy that makes the fans freak out for the next few weeks

or until the next post

You've been obsessed with the Harley Quinn show on Max recently so for Halloween you made Rhea dress up as the Poison Ivy to your Harley Quinn

You won best costume and there was tons of fanart made of the two of you as them

You like to do face masks and you wanted Rhea to join you but she'd only do it if you would agree to do a little photoshoot with her with them on for her insta

She also took a little polaroid of you to keep in her wallet

On that note, when you revealed that Rhea keeps one of those mini photo albums for polaroids in her carry-on (no matter where she goes) FILLED with polaroids of you, you and the dogs, or the occasional ones of the two of you, or all four of you, Twitter blew up

it was all anyone could talk about for weeks

"The cutest thing ever!!😍 Rhea loves her SO MUCH😭"

SHE. LOVES. TO. SHOW. YOU. OFF.

She has "Belongs to Y/F/N" in her bio on all socials

Constantly taking pictures of you because "you're just so beautiful, babe"

The fans are in love with how in love you are

Like its a fairytale and they're living for it

She constantly talks about you in interviews and always reposts those clips specifically so that just in case people didn't watch/listen to that particular instance of her gushing about you, now they have

The fans cosplay as the two of you just like they do with Rhea and Dom

you are THE it couple

Everyone wishes they were you

When you got engaged, you changed your name in your insta bio to Mrs. Ripley and the fans actually went insane

like to the point that the official WWE accounts got involved

#rhea ripley #wwe raw #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #the judgement day #the judgment day #tjd x reader #the judgement day x reader #the judgment day wwe #mami rhea #rhea ripley headcanons

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puppetmaster13u · 4 months

Text

So I am rotating the batfamily, but not like, civilian or vigilante. I am slowly rotating them all having a Malone-sona of sorts that is their in to organized crime.

Like you can't tell me people wouldn't start noticing this family that the bats, the literal cryptids and monsters of Gotham, don't even touch and lets continue to operate despite taking the older crime families apart.

And to Gotham that screams power.

Alfred = Albert “Old Al” Malone I wanna say that he doesn't go out as 'Old Al' often, but gives off Godfather sort of vibes. Usually sitting there with an old cane (that definitely has a sword, they're all dramatic like that lol) half in the dark with a cup of tea or other drink. He gets to stretch his acting skills and honestly the kids definitely had a say in the persona. Old Al is something they all made together and they have fun implying so much fun shit.

Kate = Mary “Madam” Malone She definitely gives off 'snap your spine over her knee if not for the fact it would get your blood all over her clothes' vibes. Stylized nails, hair up in fishtail braids or ponytails or whatever, looks like she could tear out ones throat and they'd thank her. It's a running gag that she's in finances, even if no one in the underbelly believes it.

Bruce = “Matches” Malone I mean, it's classic Matches (though most probably assume that Matches isn't his real name) who seems rather chill until someone breaks the rules. Gives off vibes that he doesn't usually get his own hands dirty but will do so to make a point, and enjoy doing it. He sometimes uses Matches to check in on places he can't as a shadowy cryptid, and it's not like the lower income areas would fully trust Brucie Wayne.

Barbara = Madison “Maddie” Malone Now let's be honest, Barbara enjoys messing with people, she enjoys knowing every little thing as Oracle, and she definitely does that as Maddie. The thing is, no one knows how she learns about things, other criminals search for a traitor, for a leak, for anything, and get nothing. Which is utterly terrifying. Because there has to be some sort of information network, there has to be. And somehow they're so good that they're indistinguishable to any others.

Dick = Micheal “Mikey” Malone Honestly Dick uses this chance to get into a bunch of fights just for fun. Flirts a bit more freely but doesn't really have an interest in actually getting with someone. Just has funs and is known for throwing his own parties that usually end in free-for-all brawls. He absolutely loves being able to have parties that are the opposite of galas he's usually dragged into.

Cass = Molly Malone She's quiet and graceful, but she takes it to unnerving levels as Molly. Looks slim but carries guns on her at all time to better differentiate between Cassandra Wayne, Black Bat, and Molly Malone. Everyone knows if you need a weapon, guns, meelee, whatever, she's the one you go to. Gotham help you if you cross her though.

Jason = Peter “Petey” Malone Where Molly Malone goes, everyone knows Petey will be there as well. Jason absolutely adores the time he gets to do so, it's his turn to be silent and dramatic. Everyone can recognize the jagged scar over his neck, they can recognize it from corpses the Bats have gotten their talons on. Honestly he's delighted in being able to be Cass' enforcer of sorts and just have a good fight. Even if he complains about how making his Malone mute makes it where he can't quote Shakespeare like he wants to.

Steph = “Mia” Malone Ah yes, the explosive Malone. The one who has more arson charges than Firefly. Or at least she would if she was caught, but the entire Underbelly knows it was her. Steph is living her best life being able to pull all sorts of pranks and crazy shit and takes several ideas from Harley. Honestly she probably smells like gasoline or smoke all the time, and definitely put glitter in her hair. Maybe even has red hair as a Malone as well.

Tim = Alvin “Al” Malone He still goes by Alvin Draper too, which results in half the underbelly thinking that Draper is his middle name. Honestly he's having the best time, everyone knows to come to him for forgeries and less than legal identities, which he loves to create. I mean just look at how many new identities he creates for himself alone. He enjoys this type of thing, and hey, it's so easy to keep track of whose identity is fake when you're the one who made them. Plus it also lets him do good for those on the run for good reasons, a way to make sure people are safe.

Duke = Dennis “Denny” Malone Everyone knows Denny was adopted, but y'know what, I bet they don't care. And you know Duke is utterly insane, like jump off a bridge to escape the cops and create the We are Robin gang insane. And he gets to play that up as Denny. He will put forth the most batshit ideas and actually pull them off. I bet he uses his future-sight to cheat at different games and pool tables and all sorts of things, but no one can ever prove it. Because there is no proof, and the other people playing just has to deal with it.

Damian = “Mini M” Malone The little baby of the family, who everyone knows the older Malones absolutely dote over. This is his chance to act like an actual child, just with a hint of art theft. Hey, it wasn't like they got it legally either, so it's free game, especially if they weren't taking proper care of the art or a pet. He's just pleased to get to have even more pets, and that Goliath his demon dragon-bat gets to go on walkies.

Jarro = Jadan “Lil J” Malone Now Jarro is delighted to have a third mech, and is even more delighted for people to believe Damian (or technically M jr) and him are twins. Gives off someone is going to die- of fun with Mini M, and honestly enjoys being able to use his natural telepathy to be a small horror movie child that knows too much. Like will stare up at someone with wide eyes covered in blood and the others in Gotham's underbelly still aren't sure if the blood was his or someone elses. (it was neither)

================================================

Honestly I might write a oneshot or something for the Cryptid Batfam focusing on just them as the Malones family.

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ornii · 5 months

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|| My Kind of Crazy ||

Harley Quinn X Male Reader

So after Binge Watching Barbie, rewatching Suicide Squad, Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), don’t forget that part, and The Suicide Squad, my appreciation For Morgot Robbie has increased more than it already has. Adore her. So, here’s part one of ?

(Any Tags I forgot please let me know.)

The Stench of rotting carpet, old wood and the tinge of blood was in the air. But this was all a part of the plan. Inside that old decrepit apartment you had your pistol Aimed at a man standing before you, Batman. Yes, The, Batman. A series of choices lead to this moment, but it wasn’t always like this. You were his Robin, his Boy wonder. Now you’re the shadow hiding within Gotham. Your foot was placed on the chest of another man, who’s cold and chilling laugher echoes though the room, Joker. It was on this same day, that you were Abducted; tortured, and subsequently Killed by the Very man. A Trip in the Lazuras pit changed you for the worst. But to your surprise after your revival, Joker was still alive, and Batman hadn’t sunk revenge for your murder, and all you could ask was…

“Why?” You as under your Helmet.. “Why him?” You said, Batman was stoic, silent.

“Who are you..?” He grumbles, his voice modulated to avoid detection, “You don’t know? I’m hurt.” You say with much sarcasm, you grip your helmet and tear it off, showing your face to Batman, even with the small J scar under your eye, it’s obvious who you were. Out of all the people he thought, he never expected his old Sidekick..

To be under the Red Hood.

Jokers eyes lock with the scar and he laughs much harder.

“Wow, now THAT, is funny!” He has his grilled toothy grin, and you placed your foot higher right on his throat. The wheezing laughter continues slowly.

“You don’t get to talk.” You growl at him, and then turnt your attention back to Batman.

“You know, I forgive you for not saving me, you can’t save everyone. But why, why is HE still alive?!” You scream, the rage and trauma building up in you finally. “After everything he’s done, he’s crippled, broken, murdered people! Why, why is he still here?!”

“You don’t understand… you never understood.” He said to you, and you scoff.

“What? That you can’t do it? That you don’t have the spine to! It’s too hard isn’t it?” You ask, Bruce shakes his head.

“No, I know it’s easy, he deserves to die a thousand times over, but if I killed him, i wouldn’t stop myself… I’d justify it, then I’d justify killing someone else, and it’ll keep going.. and I’ll sink further, and further into the dark.” Bruce said, you shook your head.

“You can’t control yourself… I’m not talking about Dent, or Penguin, Even Harley!” You toss the gun, Bruce instinctively catches it but, obviously isn’t capable of holding a gun.

“Do it, shoot him. Kill one, and save millions of lives… you’re the Batman right! You save people, don’t you? So save them! And kill him!” You demand, Bruce stares at you, both of you unwavering in your convictions. But he simply dropped the gun.

“No… I’m sorry, (Y/n).” He said in a solemn whisper.

“Fine!” You yell, revealing one last trick up your sleeve. an explosive set in the entire apartment block, revealing the dead man’s switch in your other hand. Joker laughs as he looks around it all beeping. He turns to Batman, and just smiles

“You, you found a way to win! But to lose everything! AHAHAHAHAHA—“ he laughs, reveling in the chaos as you let go of the switch, Batman made a choice, and now all three of you had to live with it, and in a flash, an explosion, it all faded to black for you.

You’ve been playing that in your mind for the past year you’ve been in Belle Reeve. Sitting in your orange room, captive. The 4x4 room kept you isolated, only for a bang at the door.

“Inmate. You’ve got a visitor! Stand up, face the wall.” He yells, you weren’t keen to listen to others. You stood up, facing the door, cracking your neck.

“Any of your men step in, I’m sending ten of them to the ICU.” You said, very calmly, the door opens and they rush in, training with the Batman made fighting multiple enemies a breeze, punches, kicks and knees flew all though the room as you delivered counters, combos and ruthless tactics. But all fun even came at an end as you were apprehended and locked into a chair. Struggling like a dog you strained to get out, you were wheels around Belle Reeve as you see eleven stretchers head to your cell.

“Told you..” you mutter, struggling in the binds. Being wheeled into an interrogation room, you kept your lips purse until you saw your visitor, she wore a women’s suit and skirt, her eyes deep brown like mud drowning you in muck. Amanda Waller. You looked around and saw that the room was being monitored by a single camera. She gave one officer the nod and he presses a button, the red light on the camera fades off.

“You’re not as scary as I expected.” She said, holding a file she sat down across from you. You knew about Waller, working with the Batman gave you some intel on contacts. And she was the nastiest one of all.

“Waller?” You ask.

“In the flesh.” She responded and opened your file, reading it off.

“(Y/n) Todd, Father was a factory worker, died due to Gang related activity. Mother was an addict, died years ago, leaving you alone, but you see.. that’s where it ends, as if you faded off the planet of the earth. Until you resurface a year later.” She said, all of that was true.

“What’s your point?” You ask. And she reads off another page.

“Peak Physical fitness, durability, speed, Agility, Strenght. Master Of Arms and a Genius level intellect… you are a dangerous and powerful individual, so I’m offering you a chance to cut your sentence down..” she offers

“You’re bluffing..” you struggle in the binds more, but Waller keeps her dead stare.

“Do I look like I’m bluffing?” She said, you stop and she looks you in the eye. “you complete your task, you get years off your sentence, you fail.. you die. Fairly simple.” She said, a million thoughts raced though your mind, but one did.

“Get out, Find Joker.. Kill, Joker.”

“…Im in.” You said, Waller takes her file and closes it. “Good, get his bomb in and relay with the others.” She says, your attitude shifts pretty quickly, “bomb?” You ask, “What do you mean bomb?!” You yell, but nobody said anything, being wheeled away you were held down by officers and a needle injected right into the base of your skull. Granted it wasn’t the worse thing that’s been done to you, still hurt. Finally reaching the breaking point you were wheeled outside, the sun finally hitting your skin and you found yourself surrounded by soldiers, many wounded, others preparing for what seems to be a war.

You turn your head left to spot someone you know too well, Deadshot. Seems he was also canned to Belle Reeve, and to your left was a woman you knew too well, Harley Quinn, also a prisoner. Your blood began to boil even more than before and you were ready to throttle her, but with all these soldiers here, you doubt you’d be able to do it without getting filled with lead. So you bid your time as any Hunter would. A Soldier approached them, and looked them up and down.

“Unlock 'em.” He orders, the soldiers obliged and your restraints are removed, you sit up from yoyr bindings and look further down your line. You even spot Killer Croc, in all his, Lizardy goodness. Harley Stretches and keeps her off putting smile. Closest to Harley was a man adorned with Tattoos, ElDiablo was his name, you heard a few reports about him from Batman.

“Mmm! Hi, boys! Harley Quinn. How do you do?” She said, obviously no one said anything. It was dead silence until she looks around. “Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape? Sorry. It's the voices…” she said, but laughs, “I'm kidding! Jeez!…That's not what they really said.”

The soldiers aren’t done assembling their Squad, more soldiers drag over a sack that’s fighting pretty furiously.

“What do we got here? Twelve pounds of shit in a 10-pound sack. Welcome to the party, Captain Boomerang.” He watches them cut it open, Captain immediately swings on the first person he sees. The Soldiers pin him to a wall.

“Hey, what's going on, man? Hey, one minute I'm playing Mahjong with me nanna, then this red streak hits me outta nowhere.” Boomerang pleads.

“Shut up! You were caught robbing a diamond exchange.”

“I was not!”

He Totally Was.

There was one last member, Slipknot, the man who could climb anything, which was an odd ability set, it nonetheless he was here. The man before them all was Colonel Rick Flag.

“Listen up! In your necks, injection you got, it's a nanite explosive. It's the size of a rice grain, but it's powerful as a hand grenade. You disobey me, you die. You try to escape, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me, and guess what? You die.” He says, which throws a wrench in your plans to escape, Harley obnoxiously puts her hand up.

“I'm known to be quite vexing. I'm just forewarning you.”

“Lady, shut up!” Flag yells, and then composed himself, “This is the deal. You're going somewhere very bad, to do something that'll get you killed. But until that happens, - you're my problem.” He explains, Deadshot looks him up and down.

“Mmm. So was that like a, uh, pep talk?” He asks.

“Yeah. That was a pep talk. There's your shit. Grab what you need for a fight. We're wheels up in 10.” He said, crates of gear was brought in for you and your “Teammates.”

“You might wanna work on your team motivation thing. You heard of Phil Jackson? He's like the gold standard, okay? Triangle, bitch. Study.” Deadshot, with those very inspiring words to flag suits up with everyone. You open your crate to see the old gear you had, still in damn good condition, and you suit up, Your body armor and jacket lined with shuriken, explosives and throwing knives, a combat knife strapped to your leg. Twin M1911 Dual Handguns, mint condition. And your helmet, still holding one scar on it, you take the helmet out of its case and stare at it. Your eyes waver for a moment to your other teammates, everyone seems to have some dumb gimmick, but your eyes dressed down Harley, not by your choice of course, you’ve been cramped in a hole for nearly a year, and the first woman you see was stripping down in front of you. An urge came over you and you knew exactly what it was, she finally gets her shirt on and sees almost every guy staring.

“What?” She said, they all quickly go back to doing what they were supposed to do, you as well, pushing those feelings down. You keep looking at your mask, Deadshot does the same thing with his.

“What? Won't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?” Harley said to him.

“Nah. Every time I put this on, somebody dies.” He tried to shake it off, but couldn’t that.. this wouldn’t be a normal contracts

“And?” Harley said.

“I like putting it on.” He admits, she smirks and grabs her mallet, “Goody. Somethin' tells me a whole lotta people are about to die!” She sounds so giddy.

“Yeah. It's us. We're being led to our deaths.” Diablo said.

“I don’t plan on it.” You said, looking down the barrels of one of your 1911’s.

“You know something we don’t Mate?” Boomerang asks, “No.” You reply. “I just don’t plan on dying again.” You mutter.

“What you a zombie or something?” Deadshot looks unimpressed. “Something like that… point is; Been dead, done that… I plan on getting out of here..” you say, and turn to Harley.

“I’ve got business to take care of.” You made your claim pretty obvious but it didn’t matter to you, escape is the only plan, and getting this explosive disabled. “You don’t seem to giddy like these guys..” you ask El Diablo, “I’m not here to hurt anyone man.” He said. Deadshot was the first to let them all know.

“Y'all might wanna leave old boy alone. He could torch this whole joint. Ain't that right, ese?” He looks at Diablo, who calmly shows his hands, flames emitting from them, but low ones:

“Ain't got nothing to worry about from me. I'm cool, homie.” He says, Flag returns to them, holding a tablet with Amanda on screen.

“Behold the voice of God.” He said, and she gives them the rundown. “For those of you who don't know me officially, my name is Amanda Waller. There's an active terrorist event in Midway City. I want you to enter the city, rescue HVT-1, and get them to safety.” She orders.

“I'm sorry. Uh... For those of us who don't speak good guy, what is HVT-1?” Deadshot asks.

“HVT.. High Value Target.” You say, “It’s like a bounty, Basically a rescue mission.” You explain, Deadshot nods, admitting you made it sound much less cool. “The only person that matters in the city, the one person you can't kill. Complete the mission, you get time off your prison sentence. Fail the mission, you die. Anything happens to Colonel Flag, I'll kill every single one of you. Remember, I'm watching. I see everything.” Waller ends the communication and Flag turns to Deadshot

There's your pep talk.”

“Compared to your shit, she killed it. So that's it? What, we some kind of Suicide Squad?” He asks, Flag ignores his question and leaves.

“I'll notify your next of kin. Alpha, Bravo team. Mount up!” He orders, you look around to the team you’ll be forced to work with. All of them, criminals in their own right, but for now they’re the thing between success, or all of you dying painful deaths. You put on your helmet and the detective mode still works, turning it off. You load your guns and walk to the helicopter.

Task Force X, has been activated.

#male reader #harley quinn #harley quinzel #harley x reader #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x male reader #suicide squad #dc #dc comics #Ornii #angst #we simp

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libraryofgage · 4 months

Text

Life in Miniature (One)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedediah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One (you're here!)

There will be more Jedtavius in the next parts I promise, I just thought this would be a funner introduction to the AU lmao

I just love those little guy dudes from the museum so much hfjdks and now we get two pairs of them

Also, fun fact, I took Steve's Roman name from, like, an actual king of Rome. The actual sixth king. He seemed like a chill dude.

Anyway, there's a meme at the end and as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

---------

When Robin took this job as a night guard, she didn't think the previous guard's words about history coming to life at night was, you know, real. She thought it was a joke, a predictable and corny joke, but a joke nonetheless.

But now, after being chased by a T-Rex, getting saved by Theodore Roosevelt, and almost being taken captive by fucking Attila the Hun, Robin thinks this job definitely isn't worth $16.50 an hour. Then again, this is the best paying job she's had in a while, and she was living a nocturnal life anyway.

Robin groans, leaning against a wall in the diorama exhibit, and slides down to the floor. She lets her head fall back against the wall, her eyes slipping shut as she slides. "This is crazy. This is insane. I need to find a fucking weapon or something," she mutters.

"Pardon me," comes a voice close to her head, "but might you be the goddess Diana?"

As pick-up lines go, it's not the worst one she's heard. And, based on what she knows of Greek and Roman deities, it wouldn't be too far off. Still, she does not want to be hit on by whatever weird historical thing is trying to flirt with her.

Robin takes a deep breath, opens her eyes, and says, "Do I look like a goddess to you?"

She looks to her left where the voice came from, blinking when her gaze falls on a figurine that would barely reach her ankle. He's dressed in a toga with a chest plate, wrist guards, a sword on his waist, and a deep purple cape over his shoulders. His hair is, honestly, the most impressive thing Robin has ever seen, made only more impressive by the golden laurels resting perfectly against his temples.

He's looking at her with wide eyes, more awed than anything else. "Yes," he says. "I have heard the gods are larger than life."

Okay. Fair.

"Why Diana, man?" Robin asks.

He tilts his head, studying her for a moment, looking her up and down. "You give me the same feeling as statues of Noble Diana with her Huntresses," he explains, pausing for a moment before adding, "A feeling of kinship, perhaps?"

Oh. This...this is like ancient Roman gaydar, right? Robin snorts and turns, resting her elbow on her knee. "I'm definitely not Diana. My name is Robin. I'm the new night guard."

His eyes brighten some, his smile growing wider and certainly charming enough to make the hearts of a few girls and guys flutter. "I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army."

Robin nods, letting all of the those words process in her head before saying, "Mind if I call you Steve? You look like a Steve."

The Sixth King of Rome blinks, looking slightly confused before his eyes light up with understanding. "Ah! A nickname! Yes, I am familiar with this concept. You may call me Steve, Lady Robin, as a show of our newfound friendship."

"Yeah, don't call me Lady Robin. Just Robin is fine," she says, hesitating before offering her hand to Steve.

"As you wish, Just Robin," he says, stepping carefully onto her hand and remaining steady as she raises him higher.

Robin blinks, frowning slightly and about to correct him again when she sees his smile and realizes it's a joke. "Okay, very funny, dingus," she says, carefully poking his side.

"Is dingus another nickname? It sounds like an insult."

"It usually is, but it's affectionate when I say it."

"Oh! Yes, like when Ockie calls Jed a philistine."

"Uh, sure," Robin says, nodding once as she lets Steve move to stand on her shoulder. He quickly sits, holding onto the collar of her jacket as she carefully stands up. "Hey, you know what I'm supposed to do about the dinosaur bones?"

"Rexy? Yes, he enjoys a game of fetch."

"Fetch. Of course."

----------

"What's going on in that head of yours, little man?"

Steve blinks, looks over at Jedediah, and raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm taller than you," he says, gesturing to the good inch he has on Jedediah.

"As long as you're my son, you're a little man."

Doing his best to not laugh, Steve nods once and points to the new diorama set up in the middle of the room. It's a circular diorama, centered on an equally circular stage divided into sections. A cacophony of noise echoes from it, clashing as each slice of the stage fights for dominance. "I'm trying to figure out what in Jupiter's name they're doing over there," he says.

"Well, most of it sounds like music," Jedediah says, "I think."

"It's not any music I've heard before," Octavius says, coming to a stop next to Jedediah and frowning at the diorama. "I would have assumed it the unholy shrieking of the damned."

"Perhaps it would be nicer if they weren't all playing at once," Steve suggests, hands on his hips as he tilts his head.

"Oh, boy, there it is," Jedediah says, his grin audible in his tone. "He's got the King Face."

"What are your intentions, my boy?" Octavius asks.

Before Steve can answer, Robin strolls into the room, grinning when she sees the raving diorama in the middle. She walks over to Steve, Jedediah, and Octavius, crouches down, and says, "Hey, guys. I see you're checking out the History of Rock display."

"History of Rock?" Steve asks.

"What in the sweet hell do rocks have to do with that mess?" Jedediah asks, gesturing to the noisy stage.

Robin rolls her eyes. "No, like, rock music. It's a genre. Anyway, it was sponsored by some musician, so it's a permanent display now."

"And they will be...playing every night?" Octavius asks.

"Probably."

Steve frowns a little more and nods, rolling his shoulders back. "If they are a permanent fixture in our hallowed hall, they must be welcomed. As Sixth King of Rome, this duty falls upon my shoulders. Fathers, I shall return shortly."

"Woah, woah, hold your horses there, little man," Jedediah says, moving to stand in front of Steve. "You're not going anywhere near that snake pit without some back up."

"A few centurions, at least," Octavius agrees.

"I will have Robin. What better protection is there?"

Jedediah and Octavius glance at each other before looking at Robin. She grins and offers them a two finger salute. "I'll guard him with my life," she says, "It's literally my job."

With that reassurance, Jedediah and Octavius move out of the way. Steve steps onto Robin's hand and settles on her shoulder with practiced ease, ignoring the nervous flutter in his stomach at greeting the new museum residents. He hopes they'll get along, but he also knows the might of his Roman army and the railroad workers can crush any who stand in their way.

Robin stops next to the diorama, tilting her head as she studies it. This close, Steve can see the bands playing on each slice of stage, the instruments and fashion shifting as his gaze travels around it. "Uh, excuse me," Robin says, raising her voice.

The raucous noise from the diorama screeches to a halt, the feedback making Robin and Steve grimace slightly. "Uh, hi. We're the official welcome crew for the Hall of Miniatures here. So, I'll need someone to represent your, like, whole display," Robin says, glancing over the bands until she finds one she recognizes. "Okay, I know you guys, so I'll be designating you the spokesband. Now, could the lead singer step forward?"

Steve watches as someone on the "Corroded Coffin" (what an odd name for a band) slice of the stage steps forward. Robin offers her hand to them, carefully lifting it away once they step on. "Great, uh, carry on, I guess. But, like, maybe play some of your quieter stuff for a bit," she says, her words barely out before the music starts up and the crowds start screaming once more.

She sighs and just walks over to the bench, letting off the person on her hand before letting Steve slide down her arm in a move they spent nearly three weeks practicing if only because they knew it would look cool.

When he hops onto the bench, Steve walks up to the other miniature, a man his age with long hair and odd clothes with tears that Robin once said were fashionable. His instrument is still slung over his shoulders, resting casually against his hips much like Steve's sword. Steve suddenly finds himself thinking that the man looks a little like a warrior. An odd one, to be sure, but a handsome one nonetheless.

He flashes his most charming smile, lets his shoulders relax, and says, "My friend here is Robin, Guardian of Brooklyn. I am Servius Tullius, Sixth King of Rome, son of Vulcan, weapons master of the gods, and adopted son of Jedediah, Cowboy King of the Wild West, and Octavius, general of the Roman army. You, however, may call me Steve."

-----

As far as Eddie was concerned, nothing mattered so long as Corroded Coffin got to keep rocking in an endless concert. The energy never waned, the set list never grew boring, and the music never stopped. He was ready to inform this welcoming crew of just that and promise Hell on Earth if they tried to disrupt the music (angry concert goers are a force of nature), when the words just died in his throat.

Because the most gorgeous man he's ever seen slides down that giant lady's arm, easily and smoothly landing on the bench. Somehow, his hair is perfectly windswept, the golden laurels glinting in the lights above them. His purple cape flutters softly as he walks closer, his toned thighs on full display with the toga hem that falls to the middle of them. There's a sword on the guy's hip, a chest plate that Eddie wants to pull off, a smile he wants to taste, and a pair of freckles right next to each other on the guy's cheek he wants to drag his tongue across.

He misses most of the introduction because he's too busy staring. He gets the important bits, though: Robin, a king, son of a god, adopted son of two dads. Eddie licks his lips nervously, a grin of his own tugging at his lips as he steps forward and playfully bows. "It's an honor to meet you, Your Majesty," he says.

It's supposed to come out joking, a little poke at the guy's authority to see if he can be riled up. It actually comes out way too genuine, and Eddie has a sudden realization that he meant it. He absolutely will accept this guy as his king, actually. He'll fall to his knees before him right now if asked, and not just because it might give him a little peek under the dude's toga.

"Please, just call me Steve. There's no need to be so formal."

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, hoping Steve doesn't realize that the things Eddie is thinking about (the things he wants to do to and with Steve) are just about the least formal things on this earth. "Good to know," he says, relieved his voice sounds normal as he stands up straight and offers his hand. "Name's Eddie Munson, uh, lead singer of Corroded Coffin."

Steve blinks, and his smile becomes a bit more genuine as he steps closer and clasps Eddie's forearm. "A fellow leader," he says, squeezing Eddie's arm. "Welcome to our museum."

"Y-yeah," Eddie says, his arm still tingling when Steve lets go. He clears his throat, idly tugging on a few strands of hair. "So, uh, what's the deal around here? I mean, giant women...Roman kings...cowboys, it looks like."

"Our noble museum is home to Pharoah Ahkmenrah and his tablet, which brings the exhibits to life each night," Steve explains.

"There's a few rules, though," Robin says, sitting down on the bench behind Steve. "One, no getting into fights. Two, be back in your display by sunrise. Three, no leaving the museum at night."

"What? Why not?"

"We have lost good exhibits to Sol Invictus's morning rays," Steve says, frowning slightly. "So, be careful."

Eddie stares at Steve with wide eyes as he nods, amazed at the fact that Steve seems to talk like that so genuinely. And the fact that Eddie is...kinda into it. Holy shit, that's not helping with Eddie's whole "fall to his knees" thing. He wouldn't mind some good old-fashioned worship if Steve would just smile at him again.

Maybe his prayers are heard, because Steve smiles at him again. "Wonderful," he says. "Now, Eddie, could I interest you in a tour of the museum tonight?"

"Oh, you could interest me in a lot of things, sweetheart," Eddie blurts out, his mouth running faster than his brain.

He snaps his jaw shut, relieved and horrified at Steve's slightly confused expression and Robin's "I know what you are" thousand-yard stare from over his shoulder. Before he can try to backtrack, Steve snaps, understanding in his eyes. "Ah! Sweetheart is a nickname, yes? I accept your offer of friendship."

Eddie clenches his jaw, stopping himself from saying that it's more than friendships he's offering, and smiles. "Yeah. A nickname. That's all. I'm just...a nickname kinda guy. I'll probably think of more, too, Stevie. Like that."

Steve practically beams, and Eddie feels his knees go weak. "I look forward to it," he says, turning on his heel to look at Robin, who thankfully schools her expression. "Robin, this is where we leave you for the night. You have my word that Eddie will be back in place before sunrise."

"Well, you two kids have fun," she says, grinning in a way that immediately puts Eddie on edge. "I'd better not hear about any funny business, though. Absolutely no bases should be reached tonight, and you'd better not do any conquering or pillaging."

She definitely looks at Eddie when she says that last bit. Eddie stiffens, doing his best to hold back a blush when Steve glances over at his, the confusion clear on his face. "Conquering requires more planning than this, Robin. I've told you before."

"Don't worry about it, dingus. Just have fun. Here, I'll even call a ride for you," she says, winking at them before turning, holding her fingers to her mouth, and whistling sharply.

Steve walks over to Eddie right as the ground starts to shake, easily catching him around the waist before he can lose his balance. "The shaking does take some getting used to," he says, his tone full of sympathy and obliviousness to the crisis Eddie is experiencing.

When his brain finally catches up enough to ask what he's talking about, a dinosaur skeleton slides into the room, its body wiggling excitedly as it growls. Eddie jerks back, the arm around his waist tightening some. "What the fuck?!" he shouts.

"Worry not," Steve says, leaning closer. His voice is a little softer now, his breath fanning over Eddie's ear. "This is Rexy, our steed for the evening. He's very friendly."

"Friendly," Eddie mumbles, letting himself be dragged over to Rexy and placed on the dinosaur's head by Robin. "The dinosaur is friendly."

"Many of the exhibits are," Steve tells him, grinning brightly as Rexy begins moving after a pet on the snout from Robin.

Eddie looks at him, feeling blinded by Steve's smile once more, and completely forgets about the living dinosaur skeleton.

--------

Lemme know if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

(Also I know there are like one or two upcoming parent AUs that people have asked to be tagged in and I tried to see if this was one of them but couldn't find anyone for the life of me hfjdks so I'm sorry if you asked on another post and I missed you orz)

And, finally, a meme for you

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #Mini Steddie #the tag for this series #steve deserves good parents actually #night at the museum #natm crossover #natm jedediah #natm octavius #jedtavius #the worship kink was a surprise to me too actually #and then i realized it was v on brand #have fun guys #there ought to be shenanigans aplenty

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luveline · 10 months

Note

hi hii jade! i hope to not bother u at all but can i ask a request for miguel being with harley quinnfem!reader? like she’s sweet, giddy and a bit girlish but at the same time vicious and extremely violent. maybe miggy likes it a bit too much being with her but gets annoyed seeing her tiny outfit during the mission. u don’t have to do it if u don’t wanna! thank you !!🤍

thank you for your request, i love it!! I'd love to write more for this pairing ♥

—harley quinn-esque fem!reader reports for duty wearing less material than usual, to miguel's misfortune. 1k

"And what," Miguel says, looking you up and down apprehensively, "is the point of that."

It should be a question, but it doesn't sound like one. He is genuinely shocked by what you're wearing, among other things, and it takes a lot to shock him. Your top half is decent in sense of the word, a skin tight black t-shirt with a pink spider taking perch on your sternum, legs curved over and under the shape of your breasts. Your skort (and it better be a skort, or Miguel is in trouble) is high-waisted and matching in black. A slice of your midriff exposes itself when you move.

"You don't like it?" you ask, putting on a pout that shouldn't suit you but absolutely does.

"It doesn't do anything."

"Well, I figure there's no need to conceal my identity when we're visiting other dimensions," you explain.

Miguel thinks the thing that irks him most about you is that your sweetness —made up of pretty smiles and girlish whims— is authentic. You tease and twirl, you're prone to dramatics and theatrics alike, but you genuinely are a very loving girl. Especially toward him.

"It doesn't conceal much of anything."

"Are you trying to say something mean?" you ask.

"Depends on your definition."

"Could you say it in Spanish?" you ask.

"Why?" He crosses his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at you in a look he hopes says you aren't half as subtle as you think.

"Please, Miguel." You frame your face in two hands, long, naked lengths of your arms shining with a shimmery lotion in the laboratory lighting. "Indulge me."

Don't I always? he thinks. "Depende de cual sea tu definición," he says. "Tu atuendo es más cruel que cualquier cosa que pueda decir." Your outfit is crueller than anything I can say.

"I hear 'cruel,'" you say, "but surely you can't be talking about me?"

"The portal's ready," Margo says, a purple image in the corner of his eye.

"Thank you, Spider-Byte," he says, nudging you toward the platform. For the work and the end of a dangerous conversation.

You rush up onto it and Miguel follows, ignoring the spin you make with your face turned up, watching as the portal begins to form around you, orange fractals that lock you in.

You project from one place to the other. It's best to take a running start, and there's yards to be traversed until you meet the rendezvous point.

"Where's the Vulture?" you ask excitedly.

"Around. Watch out, he might have Tinkerer with him."

"Two for the price of one!"

You stretch your arms up high, exposing your stomach, fine hair shimmering in the sunshine. Miguel's annoyed because he's weak enough to be distracted, but he'd rather blame you.

"The point of your suit was to keep you safe," he says. "I designed it to protect you."

"I like my skirt much more," you say, spinning again.

So does Miguel. He looks up into the sky with a scowl, confused as to where the Vulture and his henchmen are. They're supposed to be right here, which can only mean—

You leap for Miguel with your baton extended, the little heart sceptre piece atop of it striking the Vulture square in the jaw as the villain descends. With a spatter of blood, a shining white tooth flies across the open air, and you love it. You shake with excitement, his hands against your ribs to stop you from falling.

"Yes!" you cry, jumping out of his arms and whacking the Vulture again. You're lucky: you manage to hit him in the eye as he retreats, prompting an outraged and pained scream that shakes the trees surrounding. "You suck!" You batter him like he's a pear under your pestle.

"Y/N, that is more than enough," Miguel chastises, though the sight of you satisfied and in control is one that twists his guts.

"Box him in, Miguel!" you call, blood dripping down the sceptre and onto your bare hands.

"Woah." A third voice echoes as feet touch down to the ground, the wet thwap of webbing like an anchor, the Tinkerer deposited at Miguel's feet. "Who the hell are you guys?" asks Spider-Man.

"It's hard to explain," you say.

"It's not," Miguel says.

"Is she… on our side?" Spider-Man asks, eyes of his suit widening with a mechanical clicking.

"When she wants to be."

"I'm definitely on Miguel's side!" you say, raising your baton to give the downed Vulture another whack. He groans and raises his hands. You giggle at the fear on his face and twirl your baton around in a circle above your head. "Just kidding."

"Y/N, come here. Now." He wouldn't be so forward in his command if you weren't as prone to ignoring him as you are.

You traipse to his side, putting your hands on your hips to mimic him.

"That was quick, huh?" you ask, looking up into his face. No matter your act, he can see the want for approval in your eyes.

"Eres muy linda," he says. You're very cute.

"What does that mean?" you ask, eager for praise.

"You did great," he says.

"I think you're lying," you say, and his heart skips as you lean into his space with a knowing smile, "'muy' means I did really great, right?"

"Actually–" Spider-Man begins.

Miguel waves a hand at him. "You did really great," he confirms. He doesn't need Spider-Man telling on him.

"And I didn't need all that extra protection after all," you say, sliding under his arm.

Miguel doesn't react. The Vulture groans and Spider-Man hits him with a web to make sure he doesn't get far.

"You like it really," you whisper.

Miguel glares at you. Of course he likes it. He just hates how much danger you're potentially putting yourself in. He double hates the appreciative up and down Spider-Man gives you when he thinks no one's looking.

"You have blood in your hair," Miguel says.

"You can wash it out for me."

He takes a calming breath.

"Hey, guys? Do you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?" Spider-Man asks.

You both ignore him for different reasons, you with an adoring smile sent Miguel's way, and Miguel with a long-suffering sigh as he summons a temporary entrapment for the bloodied Vulture and his squirming lacky.

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min1check · 4 months

Text

Leto! Joker x Side Chick! Reader part 2

1033 words dw im writing the smut part and again barely proofread so im sorry if u find mistakes

pt 1

description: you work at one of joker’s clubs and he begins to take interest in you… pt 2

I got my window fixed and a new bowl thankfully. If it was just me living there at the apartment I wouldn’t care about the bowl but I was preparing for my family to come and live with me.

But for some reason I began looking for Mr. J more and more. But he stopped coming to the club. I didn’t know why. Maybe he got tired of me?

Actually I’m stupid. That’s a good thing. He cheated on Harley…

…with me.

That goes against all and every girl code out there. What am I doing with my life? I need to focus on school and work.

The night I got home was when I started receiving gifts from him. Sometimes it was flowers, sometimes it was cash, sometimes it was even food. Every night I felt guilty.

One day, Joker finally showed up to the club, with Harley. The feeling I felt so strongly in my heart was guilt. (And jealousy but i’ll never admit that)

I placed down the drinks they usually ordered.

“Sorry hun! Puddin wants to try something different today.” Harley spoke to me.

I smiled back.

“What would Mr. and Mrs. J want today?” I smiled.

“Hmm… Doll what should I get today?” He turned to Harley.

I froze up at the nickname. I should’ve known that nickname wasn’t just for me. It was mad fucking embarrassing. It didn’t just feel embarrassing it made me feel disgusting and fucking nasty.

I could feel my face getting red from anger and embarrassment.

It looked like Mr. J could sense how I felt as he had the same grin on his face. It made me realize that being with him was dangerous for my mind and body. Yet there was something about him that was unexplainably alluring.

“Oooo~ I really liked the green thing we had last time!” Harley smiled ever so sweetly.

I went back to reality.

“We’ll have the absinthe.” The Joker looked at me up and down with a grin.

I’m a fool.

“Yes I’ll get that for you right away.” I smiled and walked off.

I’m so fucking stupid.

“Wow, that was fast, Miss Waiter!” Harley exclaimed.

“Thank you Mrs. J.” I tried my best to sound like I was laughing genuinely.

Joker just grinned at me like usual.

I couldn’t tell you about what I remembered about my shift except for that part. I got home quickly that night. On my table was a note with an address

written.

I quickly gathered all the random presents Joker left for me and put it in a box neatly.

It wasn’t right of me to let myself be a mistress. I needed to stop this. I couldn’t let myself catch even bigger feelings either. Why was I jealous of Harley even though he was already hers? It’s not right of me to think of such a thing. I’m not about to be a homewrecker.

But what if he reacted badly to me saying no? He’s literally batshit crazy. He wouldn't hesitate to blow my head off. I still have a lot of things to live for. Maybe I should just stay home.

But if he gave me this note tonight then he wants me to come tonight. Right?

So what if I had a slight smile currently? He’s hot and i like being wanted, that's all.

I googled how far the address was and it was actually pretty close. I quickly arrived at the address. I knocked on the door and was met with a shirtless Joker.

I touched my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling.

“Hi I’m sorry but I can’t accept this Mr. J.” I said quietly while trying to avoid looking at his man tities and his ripped ass chest.

There was no grin on his face but more like a scowl. It shook me to my very core. I was too used to his devilish grin. (It was kinda hot though…)

“Doll you’re breaking my heart! Those gifts were just for you!” His usual grin appeared on his face again. It

His use of the same pet name for Harley and me was repulsive. Yet it made my heart twist and turn.

“Give these gifts to your actual girlfriend Mr.

J. I don’t want to disturb your relationship and I need to focus on school and work.” I couldn’t bear to look at him so I focused my attention on the ground.

He put the box of gifts I held in my hands down on the floor.

“Aww~ Are you jealous Princess? Harley is my girlfriend, yes. But you’re the only one that’s in this smalllll tinyyyy heart.” He put my hand onto his chest.

Would he kill me if I squeezed it a bit?

“…” I didn’t want to retort back and get my head blown off. But this whole thing we had was morally wrong. And I knew if I fell in even more love with him I could never escape those feelings. I don’t want to die.

“Mr. J we can’t- I can’t do this. You already have a girlfriend and I need to focus on-“

I was cut off by him shushing me with his finger.

“You can’t but I definitely can. Who said anyone needed to know about us, Doll?” He held me in his arms.

“But Mr. J…” I was conflicted.

My life or him?

“C’mon Princess~ be with me. I’ll make sure you never worry again.” He said like he knew exactly what I was thinking.

He kissed me…

And I kissed back.

He’s probably done this to so many other girls but my body, heart, and mind couldn’t escape him.

Maybe a few more days wouldn’t hurt.

I spent the night with him. When I woke up he had already left. There was a note left next to me with his number on it.

I felt lonely.

My knees literally buckled with every step I took. It was really bad. I thought I was gonna fall multiple times. Thankfully I was able to get into my apartment and I slept for a little longer. Yet it felt cold without the warmth of Mr. J.

#joker x reader #jared leto joker x reader #jared leto joker #leto joker #leto joker x reader #the joker x reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

Text

A League Christmas

Day 11 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Summary: A Justice League Christmas party overwhelms you, so you sneak off to find a quiet place. Dick finds you and keeps you company.

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Warnings: fluff, brief discussions of insecurity and anxiety, brotherly Jason Todd slander, Hal Jordan (he's a warning by himself) and a GLTAS reference.

A/N: I didn't specify which Dick Grayson this is, so feel free to pick your favorite! I just like Young Justice's Nightwing suit. Also, I love Hal and Razer in GLTAS if anyone is curious. Friendly reminder that I write for several DC characters in this fic, if you'd like to request something with them (request rules & character list)! :)

The first annual Justice League Christmas Gala. Wonder Woman’s idea meets Batman’s money.

Your apprehension about attending has only increased since you got the invitation a week and a half before the gala. The mix of insecurity, fear, and knowing that you’ll be overwhelmed causes you to question whether or not you should RSVP.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you going to the gala?” Nightwing asks, landing beside you.

“I don’t know. Probably not? It’s not like a party of that size will miss one no-name vigilante,” you answer, not looking at him.

“You’re kidding, right? You have to go; who else will keep me sane?”

You glance at him before saying, “One less mouth to feed. I’m doing it for Bruce.”

Nightwing stays quiet, walking beside you until you reach the end of the alley.

“What if we go together? If I’m your date you won’t have to deal with any of it alone. I’ll be stuck by your side the entire time,” he offers.

“I- that would be nice,” you answer quietly, hopeful that being beside him will improve the night.

“Then it’s a date,” Nightwing says, his usual energy back as he jumps onto a dumpster. Extending a hand down to you, he adds, “Now, let’s find Harley, she owes me 20 bucks.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred!” Dick calls as he enters the Batcave, pulling his mask off.

“Yes, Master Grayson? Another injury?” Alfred replies.

“No, of course not, I’m not Jason,” Dick answers.

“Heard that!” Jason yells from somewhere.

Dick shrugs as he smiles at Alfred. “I need you to do something for me at the gala.”

“Anything, Master Grayson.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Stephanie and Cass invited you to go shopping for the gala and found what they (and you) deemed ‘the perfect look.’ It is a combination of your suit colors and Nightwing’s. You feel good in the dress but still wonder if you made the right decision by agreeing to go.

When you enter the venue, you hear a sharp whistle and turn to see Dick Grayson walking toward you. His suit is a deep blue, with elements of the bright Nightwing blue you’ve grown to love. A domino mask covers his eyes and cheekbones, but you still know how beautiful he is.

“You look amazing,” you tell him.

“Seriously? You look like a princess,” he gushes, running a finger over the fabric of your outfit. “You look really good in blue; better than me, maybe.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you argue, laughing as he brushes a piece of hair away from your mask.

“You ready?” he asks, offering his arm.

You loop your arm through his elbow, and he lays his other hand on your arm.

“You’ll do amazing,” he whispers as you approach the top of the stairs.

“Mr. Red Hood and Artemis Grace of Bana-Mighdall,” Alfred announces.

“Mr. Red Hood?” you ask, looking at Dick. “That makes you…”

“Mr. Nightwing, yep. Bruce doesn’t seem to care that everyone here already knows who we are.”

Alfred says your name first, flipping the expected script. You look at Dick and smile brightly, whispering your gratitude for making you laugh. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you nod at Alfred and he sends you a quick, encouraging wink before reading the next set of names.

Your arm stays looped through Dick’s as you make the rounds, saying hello to the heroes you know and introducing yourself to those you don’t. Dick was serious when he said he’d be by your side the whole time. Even when you go to get drinks, his hand stays on your lower back as he orders for you.

“Nightwing? A word?” Superman asks, smiling as he looks over at you.

Dick’s face drops toward yours, and though you can’t see his dark eyes looking at you, you know what he’s asking.

“Go ahead,” you say with a nod. “I’ll be around when you’re done.”

He nods once, gripping your hand before he leaves with Superman. You accept the drink and walk to a secluded area, taking a seat and a deep breath.

“Hey,” someone says. “This seat taken?”

You’re prepared to lie to avoid a conversation, but when you see who it is you smile and say, “No, help yourself.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick’s eyes stray to you as he listens to Superman and answers his questions, nodding and laughing when needed. He sees someone approach the table and hopes that they don’t ask to sit down. When you smile and gesture to the seat, the man turns and Dick releases a sigh, turning his attention back to Superman.

✯✯✯✯✯

“And then Razer said, ‘Do you share my opinion that the sweet embrace of death would be welcome today?’” Green Lantern Hal Jordan finishes, laughing alongside you. “Hate to leave so soon, but thanks for the company,” he adds before standing to visit the other Green Lanterns, who were fashionably late (courtesy of Kyle Rayner, no doubt).

After he leaves, and you’re alone as your anxiety begins to grow as the music, the overlapping conversations, and the extravagant gown overwhelm your senses. Abandoning your seat, you back toward the door, smiling at Diana as she passes, before turning and leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Dick hasn’t checked on you since Hal sat down, but he feels a sudden urge to look over. When he sees you backing toward the door, he knows something is off.

“Sorry, Supes, but I need to go,” he interrupts.

Superman looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Take your time.”

Dick nods and rushes through the ballroom, following you up into a small sitting room with large windows. He closes the door, muffling the sounds of the party. You sigh as the quietness washes over you. Turning to him, you begin apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to ditch you, I just got overwhelmed, and…”

“Hey,” Dick interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch.

He sits first, then pulls you down beside him, letting you lean against his side while he intertwines your fingers.

“Don’t apologize for leaving a situation that made you uncomfortable. Is that all that’s bothering you?”

“Yes. I just- it was a lot,” you answer.

“I get it. We can stay here as long as you want, or we can really ditch and go get ice cream or hot chocolate or something,” Dick offers, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.

There is a small clicking sound just before the lawn outside the window is illuminated with thousands of Christmas lights. You stand quickly, pulling Dick to the window with you, looking at all of the decorations and the intricate light display.

Unbeknownst to you, Alfred looks up into the window and smiles when he sees you standing so close to Dick. “A Christmas miracle,” he mutters before returning to the gala.

“I’d say this is a pretty good first date, all things considered,” Dick says, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

You pull your hand from his and turn in his arms to ask, “This was a date?”

“Of course it was.” He rushes to add, “Unless you don’t want it to be.”

“No, I do,” you answer quickly. “I just thought you offered to go with me because I was nervous.”

Dick brushes his fingers against the bottom of your mask as he says, “I wanted to go with you because you’re the best part of my life.”

“Take it off,” you whisper.

Dick smiles as he pulls the mask away from your face, freezing as his eyes look into yours. He drops your mask on a nearby table, keeping his head turned away as he peels his own off and drops it beside yours.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Grayson,” you tease, looking into his eyes.

“Too long,” Dick agrees, running a knuckle along your cheekbone. “You really are the best part of me.”

“You’re the best part of me,” you parrot, pushing your hands under the lapel of his suit blazer to rest on his chest.

Dick smiles, opening his hand so his warm, calloused palm rests against your cheek. He tilts his head to kiss you, his lips moving slowly against yours in the best slow dance you’ve ever experienced. You lean against him as you follow his movements, more than happy to let him lead.

“Thanks for being my date,” you whisper as he pulls back.

“I got the good end of this deal,” he replies.

The door opens suddenly, and Dick pulls you against his chest, keeping his face to the window as he asks who it is.

“You know the masks are supposed to stay on for this reason, right?” Bruce asks.

“Then why are you using your real voice?” you respond playfully.

“Besides, I can’t kiss her in the mask,” Dick adds, turning to face Bruce.

“Your mask only covers your eyes,” Bruce argues.

“But his eyes are pretty,” you say, smiling.

“I just came to tell you that you can leave if you want to,” Bruce explains, smiling at you. “I’m glad you both came, though.”

He closes the door behind him as Dick looks at you, the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes as he pulls you closer.

“Me too,” you both say together.

#fluentmoviequoter12daysoffics #dick grayson x fem!reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson fic #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #justice league #fem!reader

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thisismeracing · 6 months

Text

King of my heart | MS47 | Part. 21

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x Hamilton!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, mention of food, not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI! ― Summary: After the Qata GP Yn and some friends decide to go on a mini vacation before the next racing weekend, but different from other times she keeps her phone close and makes sure she’s sharing how things are happening through her lenses. ― A/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. Everything else is made up by me, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

⁕ part 20 | series masterlist | part. 22 ⁕ my masterlist | my taglist here ⁕ Support my writing by reblogging, and leaving me a message 🤍

theofficialyn

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theofficialyn qatar dumpppp 💙

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russellsaint yes, babe, but you're really gonna ignore the make-out pics?

⤷ schumini47 omg leave her alone!!!! 🙄🙄

lewishamilton I look good 😙

⤷ landonorris yeah and I look awful, what in the hec, yn??!

⤷ theofficialyn I am still learning, lan!!!!! 😔

swiftleclerc it's so weird seeing her and lando, like out of all the drivers she included lando on her dump?!

⤷ princessyn they're friends, she posted about him while in Miami too, there's nothing new. plus, he was on the podium

⤷ keepupwhamiltons lando is close with lewis too, I think they're friends way before we know 🤷🏼

tracklimitss IS THAT CORINNA ON THE LAST PIC??

mickyn in my head the second pic is mick, let me live in delusion, bye

sainzfrance those shoes are fireee 🔥

masoncity no signs of mase on the likes 👁️👁️

⤷ chelseablues this is so weird, get a life (I'm curious too, lmk if he shows up)

mickshoemaker I am so relieved to see she's posting, for a second I thought she would deactivate after those pap pics

franciscac.gomes linda! 💗

mickschumacher

liked by lewishamilton, jackdoohan, and others

mickschumacher been ridin' harleys in Hawaii lately

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gina_schumacher I look cute 🥰

⤷ theofficialyn you’re always cute 🩷

⤷ pierregasly franciscac.gomes where are you to comment I look cute too?

⤷ charles_leclerc pierre looks cute too!! ☝🏻

⤷ grandmonza they're so funny omg complete chaos LOL

pophamilton SOFT LAUNCHING YN FINALLY!!!!

mickandyn I prayed for moments like this

mercmick I love how it's really a dump, there's no color aesthetic behind, just the pictures ❤️

lewishamilton out of all the pictures?

⤷ theofficialyn shut up, I was the one who chose it 🥺

⤷ moonsainz OMG SHE CHOSE IT WDHSKJHKLSDFHJKJHF

ferrarihoax where are the girlies who were saying Yn was dating mason?? LOL

franciscac.gomes wait for meeee, I'll get there tomorrow 🫠

⤷ theofficialyn I'll include you on my dump, kika 💗

⤷ tsunodaalpine I love how she's interacting with every comment as if it was her own post

mercedesamgf1 see you guys on Thursday! 🫡

malibucyrus I understand the fuss with yn and mick, but can we also appreciate how yn and gina are close? mickyn is literally my fav ship because you can see how there's so much love their families can't help but fall too ❤️

mickschumacher

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mickschumacher through my eyes 🤍

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estebanocon ❤️ really happy for you, mate!

mercedesamgf1 finally!!!! 😍

⤷ alpinepierre LMAO

theofficialyn thank you for loving me the way you do 🤍

⤷ mickschumacher thank YOU for letting me love you ❤️

minimacher47 the way she’s looking at him in the second pic, that’s what we’ve been talking about. It must have been so hard for them to hide it 😭

monzaart mick, share more pics with the class, I beg you

albonno he’s such a simp

mercciado it’s over for us bitches

marvelmercedes the hold he has on her jaw, I- oop 🫦

georgerussell63 I’m gonna pretend I’m surprised ❤️

⤷ rodeoricciardo he‘s such a little shit, I love him lol

danielricciardo mick.jpg when?

theofficialyn

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theofficialyn through my eyes 🤍

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lewishamilton luv u, guys ❤️

⤷ hammertimme if they have Lewis’ blessing who are we to be against?

franciscac.gomes I’m so happy for you!!! You deserve all the love 💕

mickschumacher ❤️ you and me, always

⤷ theofficialyn always ❤️

⤷ 1dferrari crying, shaking, giggling, throwing up, grinning like a devil

landonorris 🧡

mclatas him with angie, him holding flowers, him napping omg thank you for your service, Yn!!!!

norrissza he’s really boyfriend material, I have the proof, I have it printed! *toto’s voice*

gina_schumacher 😍😍😍 officially family yayy!!

⤷ zendaya44 wdym officially? Are they’re about to marry?

⤷ charleslepole idc, whatever gina says its the law. If she’s saying Yn’s oficially family she is!! 💋

lewissunshine I can’t wait for this Sunday!!!!!!

lilyhme so precious 🩷

charles_leclerc I was so scared I would spill it by accident, finally!!!

⤷ pierregasly SAME!

charles_leclerc I love you two btw

roscoelovescoco I’s approvess 🥰

⤷ braziliangp I wonder if this was Lewis or Yn who typed it LOL

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @fdl305 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @shhhchriss @smiithys @f1kota @lunnnix @leclercsluv @baby-is-crying @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @v1naco @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @minkyungseokie @nichmeddar

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justagalwhowrites · 5 months

Text

Halcyon - Ch. 1: Can I Buy You a Beer?

You run into someone you don't expect when out for a drink. A continuation of Halcyon, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Yes it's a Javi gif but we're gonna say he's Joel because Joel is in his 30s for this fic, OK?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.7K

AO3 | Prologue | Next Chapter

Austin, Texas

September 30, 2022

You were going to strangle Alyssa.

It sure as hell hadn’t been your idea to go out drinking to celebrate the end of the first month of the school year. Definitely not your idea to do it at a bar that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned this decade. And it absolutely was not your idea to try to pick up a guy while out at said dingy bar.

But it apparently was Alyssa’s idea of a good time.

You sighed as you watched people go to and from the bar from your seat tucked in the corner. You tried to come up with stories for the people you could see in the dim light, like they were characters in a book you were writing. The biker in a leather vest, you decided, had been an accountant for 20 years when he bought a Harley during his midlife crisis. He’d become a mechanic when he became too obsessed with the bike to be satisfied behind a desk. His wife was pissed but his son thought he was way cooler now. The couple at the end of the bar were on a second… no, third date. She was deciding whether or not to fuck him. You thought it was going to go in his favor.

Alyssa had moved out of the seat next to the guy she’d taken up with and into his lap. You wondered if there was a world record for how far someone’s tongue could be down another person’s throat. It had to trigger her gag reflex at some point, right? Or maybe she didn’t have one. That must be nice. Maybe that was the key to being good at oral. Maybe you’d be better at it if you didn’t have a gag reflex. Maybe you’d still have a husband if you were better at oral.

You downed the last of your Shiner and rapped your fingers along the side of the glass. That was one upside to being back in Texas, at least. Shiner Bock on tap was a nice perk.

Next time you went out with Alyssa, you were driving yourself. If there was a next time.

But you’d probably cave before too long. You didn’t have many friends and you liked her. Even though this night hadn’t been much fun and getting to know her at all had been awkward at first. Alyssa was a few years younger than you and the first time she’d stumbled into your office she had your book in her hands and a wide smile on her face.

“I am so sorry if this is weird,” she said after a brief introduction. “But… I’m in love with your book and I am dying for you to sign it!”

“Sure,” you laughed a little and she passed it to you. You flipped to the title page and scrawled “Alyssa, Thanks for reading. With love, your coworker” before you penned the signature you’d practiced a million times with your agent below and handed it back. She squeaked, a little giddy, before offering to show you the best restaurants near campus. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’d grown up in Austin so you had plenty of favorites without any extra help.

Still, you had this strange drive to have Alyssa see you as a normal person. Award-winning author famous was, thankfully, not the kind to get you recognized on the street but it still made you uncomfortable. Book signings and readings were exercises in misery. There was the acute agony of being observed and noted, the strange knowledge that, for these strangers, this brief encounter was going to be something they remembered. They’d remember if you had a mustard stain on your shirt or if there was lipstick on your teeth or if the stress you were under as you traveled from city to city while your marriage fell to pieces around you made you snap at someone. You never realized how keenly you valued anonymity until it wasn’t an option anymore.

The very last thing you wanted was someone who was a fan with an office two doors down from your own.

So, you’d decided to have her be a friend instead. Make it so she saw you as a person and not someone from the inside of a book jacket. The two of you had gone to lunch a few times and out for a quick drink once, too. It had been nice and, ever since, it felt like she had stopped watching you like a pseudo-celebrity and started seeing you as a friend. Or, at the very least, a friendly acquaintance.

So when she’d asked if you wanted to get some drinks tonight, you’d said yes, envisioning the lounge she’d suggested the first time you’d gone out, one with jazz music playing quietly enough that you could chat over it.

That was not where she suggested this time.

But you were already here and edging in on tipsy and if you were going to spend the night alone at a bar and, eventually, at home with your vibrator, you may as well be drunk doing it.

You made your way to the bar and ordered a tequila shot and another beer, drumming your fingers on the bar top as you waited for your drinks.

“Well hey there, beautiful,” a man who had to have at least 10 years on you sidled up next to you at the bar. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ getting your own drinks?”

“No one else was volunteering,” you gave him a tight smile. “But I’m not looking for company so…”

“Don’t tell me you’re here all by your lonesome?” He smiled a lopsided, cocky smile, looking you up and down. The accent felt a little heavy handed and the cowboy hat put it over the top. You wondered, idly, if he was hiding a bald spot under there.

“I prefer flying solo, but thank you,” you said, peering around him to watch the bartender flirt with a girl who looked like she was newly 21 and probably here slumming it at this bar that was far from the school. You sighed and settled in to wait even longer for your drinks.

“Girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be all on her own,” he said, leaning against the bar and blocking your view. “No way someone hasn’t snapped you up yet, a face like that…”

“Oh my face has nothing to do with it,” you smiled, forcing your eyes to go wide enough that you looked a little crazed. “It’s because I’m a murderous sociopath with six bodies buried beneath my house.”

The man just blinked at you, a puzzled look on his face. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head and you considered, for a moment, timing him to see how long it would take to piece it together.

“She’s right you know,” a familiar voice from behind you made you stiffen. “There's a reason she's here alone. This one’s insane, she’d chew you up and spit you out, man. Best you find someone else to try n’take home.”

“Sorry, man,” he said. “Didn’t know she was spoken for.”

You watched the man shove himself back from the bar and prowl off to find another woman to try and bed before turning, slowly, to the man standing at your back. Your heart beat picked up in spite of yourself when you saw him, as tall and broad and somehow even more handsome than ever.

Joel Miller smiled, one of his cocky, lopsided smiles that made his cheek dimple.

“Hey, Goldie.”

***

It was you.

Here, in this shitty bar in his corner of Austin on a Friday night was you.

Joel froze when he saw you, sitting in a corner by yourself, watching the bar with a far away look on your face.

It was a look he knew intimately, even though it had been 11 years since he’d last seen your face in person. You’d get that look when you were thinking about something important, something you wanted to remember. You’d have that look and then you’d open up that gold notebook of yours and write furiously for a minute or two before stashing it away.

“You ever gonna let me read any of that?” He’d teased one day as you sat, curled up in the corner of his couch, your notebook on your knees.

“No,” you scoffed. “Trust me, you don’t want anywhere near this disaster area. It’s basically just the word vomit version of my brain, it’s a mess up there.”

Joel didn’t push you on it but, truthfully, he’d have killed for a chance to see inside your mind for a moment. He wanted to crawl inside your skull and look at whatever you’d let him see. He wanted to memorize you, carry you with him, wrap himself up in you at every opportunity. You felt like home, more than anything else he’d ever had. Of course he wanted to be close enough to you to see inside your mind.

But that was a long time ago. Yes, it had been 11 years since he’d seen you but it had been even longer since he’d seen you when you weren’t pissed at him. In fairness, he was pretty pissed at you, too, but you’d started it.

And he wasn’t even sure why. He didn’t know what set you off to begin with. One night it was prom and the next thing he knew, you were gone. Taking off across the country before graduation without so much as a goodbye. You changed your number and your mom wouldn’t give it to him and you were just gone. Like the two of you hadn’t spent every day together for the last three years, like he had all meant nothing at all to you.

Joel saved up the money to buy a bus ticket to your fancy fucking college, intending to find you there and demand an explanation, but that hadn’t gone as planned. He just settled into not knowing and not understanding why the most important relationship in his life had been ripped away from him without a word.

But it had been a long time. He’d moved past the resentment of it and now he was all but awestruck at seeing you again.

“Hey, do you want…” Tommy’s voice trailed off and his eyes tracked where Joel’s were looking. “Holy fucking shit, is that…”

“Yup.”

“Did you know she…”

“Yup.”

Tommy was quiet for a moment.

“Know she was gonna be here?”

“Hell no.”

Joel caught a glimpse of his brother nodding out of the corner of his eye - he wasn’t about to stop looking at you, he was worried if he did you might disappear again - and sighed.

“You gonna talk to her?” Tommy asked after a moment.

“No idea.”

“Shit dude,” Tommy clapped his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Good luck with… whatever the fuck is gonna happen there.”

Joel glared at him for a second but kept his eyes on you. One of the other guys on the crew went to get the first round, something he appreciated because it meant he could keep watching you at a distance. He wasn’t sure what the fuck to say to you and he wasn’t about to just go talk to you with nothing to say.

But then you went to the bar and a guy was clearly annoying the hell out of you and, before he really knew what he was doing, he was heading for you.

“Hey, Goldie.”

You looked at him for a moment. You looked as surprised to see him as he was to see you.

“Hey, Joel.”

He smiled a little wider.

“Can I buy you a beer?” He asked.

“You’re a bit late, I’m afraid,” you said. “Already put it on my tab. But that’s assuming the bartender remembers I exist which seems like it might be aiming a bit high…”

Joel hung over the bar and hit the top of it a few times.

“Hey, Jimmy!” He yelled. The bartender whipped his head around. “Stop fuckin’ around, get my friend her shit, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, turning back to the woman he was talking to for a second before making you a shot first and then pouring your beer. He set both in front of you at the same time.

“Thank you,” you said, both to Joel and to Jimmy, and you did the shot, wincing as the tequila went down.

Joel whistled

“Shit, you lookin’ to get fucked up?”

“Well,” you coughed a little on the liquor before taking a sip of beer. “I already need to take an Uber home because the friend I came with is currently being devoured by that charming gentleman over there…” You nodded to a man at a table against the wall, a brunette draped across his lap who looked to be surgically connected to the man at the mouth. “So I figured, fuck it, may as well get hammered.”

Joel laughed a little at that.

“Since you’ve got no one else to get hammered with,” he shrugged. “Want to do it with me? Catch up a bit?”

You thought for a second, taking a sip of beer.

“Sure,” you said. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Joel got a beer, too, and followed you back to your table before he settled in beside you. Part of it felt so natural, being next to you, but it was so different, too. You were different, fuck knows he was different.

“So,” he said, watching you. “You’re in town.”

“I am,” you nodded.

“Visiting Anna?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. It had made news, the fact that you were coming to teach at UT.

“Work,” you said. “Moved back a few months ago.”

“So what do you do now?” He asked. “For work, I mean.”

“Teach, mostly,” you said. “I’m at UT now. Literature and creative writing.”

“Seems right up your alley,” he nodded. “Always liked that sorta thing. You ever write that book?”

You nodded, taking another sip of beer.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just one, though.”

“Ever publish it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “A few years ago…” Joel laughed and you frowned. “What?”

“You really think I don’t know you wrote a fuckin’ book?” He asked. “Course I know you wrote a fuckin’ book. Jesus, Goldie, your name is on fuckin’ posters and shit! You think I live under a rock?”

You laughed.

“You dick!” You shoved him playfully. “Look, you’re basically illiterate, I didn’t want to assume…”

“Hey just because I do shit besides read does not mean I’m illiterate!” He laughed. “You’re just a nerd…”

“You only finished high school because I’m a nerd,” you rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure your coach was ready to make me an honorary member of the team since me hounding you about homework was the only thing that kept your ass grade eligible.”

“Oh, you were the MVP,” he smiled, watching you take another sip of your beer and you smiled that amused little smile, the one you had when you were humoring him, the same one you’d had since you were 15 years old. “No question about it.”

“Since you know all about me apparently,” you teased. “What’s been going on with you?”

Joel shrugged, taking a drink. Mostly to buy himself time.

Did he want to admit to you that he’d all but taken his life and driven it into the ground since he last saw you?

Not that he ever felt like he had much potential, anyway. You and his mom had been the only people who’d ever really seen anything in him. But then you left and she died and was he even failing anybody anymore? Certainly not himself. And everything he did now he did to make sure he didn’t fail his daughter who, for the last 10 plus years, had been the only thing in his life that made it seem like all the shit was worth something.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you about her, either. It seemed cheap, to bring her up in a bar to you of all people, one of the only reasons she existed in the first place.

“Kept busy,” he said instead with a shrug. “Workin’ construction. Roped Tommy into it about a year ago, too. His dumb ass kept getting into it with people, told him I wasn’t going to keep bailing him out of jail if he didn’t at least look like he was trying to get his shit together.”

You nodded and took another sip of beer.

“Do you like it?”

He shrugged again.

“Pays the bills.”

“Not what I asked, Joel.”

He looked at you. You were watching him in that keen way you had, your head cocked slightly to the side, your eyes looking at him like you could cut through everything, everything he ever had or was or would be, down into the lanky boy he’d been when he’d first met you.

“Not sure why it matters,” he said after a minute. “But it’s fine, I guess. Crew’s good. Work’s steady.”

“It matters because you deserve something that fulfills you,” you frowned slightly. “Don’t you think so?”

He laughed once, looking at you for a moment.

“Haven’t thought about shit that way in a while,” he said.

Since you left, he added silently. He didn’t say it. Wouldn’t say it, even though part of him wanted to. Wanted to demand an answer, wanted to yell at you, wanted to cry at you and make you answer for the destruction that you left behind you. Destruction that Joel wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever really recovered from, just found a way to live in the rubble of it all.

But you were here now, talking with him again.

“When was the last time we did this?” He asked.

“Did what?”

“Talked.”

You smiled a little.

“You mean besides the time you decided to yell at me about my romantic choices at my mother’s funeral?” You asked, brows raised. “Been a while.”

“Since prom?” He asked quietly.

He watched you clench your jaw before nodding and taking a drink.

“Since prom.”

Joel picked at the label on his beer bottle for a moment as you sat with your hands between your knees and looked anywhere but at him. Eventually, you picked up your drink glass again with your left hand and Joel traced your bare ring finger with his eyes.

“Thinkin’ I might have been right about the romantic choices,” he teased lightly and you frowned before he nodded at your hand.

“Ah, right,” you said, extending your hand in front of you and running your thumb over the inside of that finger like you would if there was a wedding band there. “Yeah, it turns out going on a book tour when your marriage is on the rocks isn’t the best way to handle things…”

“Shit,” he shook his head a little. “I’m sorry, Goldie, that…”

You scoffed.

“No you’re not,” you put your hand back in your lap. “You hated him. You said all of three words to Gale and you hated him…”

“OK first of all, his name was fucking Gale,” Joel cut you off. “And second of all, he was a fucking douchebag.”

You snorted into your beer, coughing and choking on it for a moment and Joel clapped you on the back as you held on to the table, trying to laugh and breathe at the same time.

“You alright there?” He asked, leaving his palm in the middle of your back.

“Fine,” you coughed, pounding your chest with your fist. “I’m fine, I just… It’s so funny, but Gale isn’t even his birth name.”

Joel gaped at you.

“You’re shitting me,” he said. “That asshole chose the name Gale?”

You nodded, still coughing and laughing.

“He did,” you said. “He did, he thought it made it sound him more authorial and academic, he changed it before he started teaching. His birth name is fucking Bradley - his mom still calls him Brad - and I only found out when filling out the marriage license.”

“What a fuckin’ dick,” Joel laughed, his hand still on you. He was touching you. He hadn’t touched you in so long and he was touching you. “Jesus Christ… Sorry if you’re still hung up on the guy but shit, you can do way better than that.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, calming down a bit and nodding to yourself. Joel watched you, uncertain. “Really, it is. I’m not going to pretend like I entirely agree with you but… things look different once you’re outside of the marriage and not in it anymore… Anyway. You married? Kids?”

“Not married,” Joel said, still not sure how he wanted to tell you about Sarah. If he even should, if the two of you were going to just go your separate ways after tonight and never speak again it felt wrong to share her. “Not even dating, really. At least, nothing steady…”

You laughed.

“Christ, why am I not surprised?” You teased. “You always had a way with the ladies. Haven’t outgrown that yet I take it?”

Joel smiled a little.

“Why outgrow what’s fun?”

You smiled a little back.

“Fair enough,” you said. “Don’t you want that, though? Something stable?”

“Is anything stable?” He asked. “Shit, half the people we went to school with now are fuckin’ divorced, what difference does it make?”

“Yeah, I guess I am one to talk,” you said, polishing off your beer.

Joel winced.

“Fuck, not what I meant…”

“It’s fine,” you shrugged. “I just… it didn’t work out and that’s that, right?”

“Right,” he said, watching you closely for a moment. “Hey, since you’re lookin’ to get hammered and I don’t got shit else to do tonight… shots?”

You laughed a little.

“I don’t know that I want to get that hammered,” you said. “I’m not a teenager anymore…”

“C’mon, Goldie,” he teased. “It’s on me. Plus it was my birthday the other day, gotta do at least one with me for that.”

“Oh shit,” you said. “It was, wasn’t it? You turned 33 on… Monday? Monday, right?”

“Right,” he laughed. “So, you in?”

You laughed a little back.

“Alright,” you said. “You’ve sold me. But I’ve got the first ones, it was your birthday, after all.”

The two of you moved to open bar stools on the end of the bar and ordered the first two shots - tequila - and clinked your glasses together before downing them, slamming them down on the bar top when you were done.

“See?” Joel teased. “You still got it in you.”

“If you say so,” you coughed a little and then laughed.

“Another?” He asked.

You looked at him for a moment.

“Fuck it,” you said and Joel flagged down Jimmy and ordered another round.

By the time it was last call, your friend had come over to say goodbye, her lipstick smudged around her lips and the mouth of the man she’d been draped across, and the bar had gotten quiet, just a handful of stragglers left even on a Friday night.

It took a few shots but you’d given up on keeping any distance from Joel at all, your bar stool sitting against his, your body pressed against his side, your head on his shoulder.

“Hey Jimmy!” Joel slapped the bar top a few times. The man came over and leaned on the bar, looking at you tucked against Joel. “Think you can get me a cab?”

“Sure as hell not lettin’ either of you two idiots drive,” he replied, going to get the phone.

“Hey,” Joel nudged you. “Where… where do you live? Need an address, gonna get you home.”

You thought for a second and then devolved into half drunk laughter.

“I don’t know,” your words were slurred. “Oh fuck, I’ve only lived there like… a few… a few… fuck. When did I move?”

“Before the school year?” He asked.

“Right,” you nodded. “Prob’ly right, that’s… that’s when. S’not long. I don’t know where it is, oh shit…”

“S’OK,” he said, putting an arm around you. “Just… just come home with me, s’fine.”

“Yeah?” You asked, raising your head slightly. “You… you don’t mind?”

“Don’t mind, Goldie,” he said gently. “Never mind, not with… not with you.”

You nodded and dropped your head back to his shoulder.

Joel had to half carry you to the cab and you dozed off against him on the drive, pressing your warm, soft body against his, passed out enough that you were drooling on the shoulder of Joel’s t-shirt, soaking through to his skin. He didn’t mind.

“She gonna be alright?” The cab driver asked as Joel paid him and nudged you awake.

“M’fine,” you waved him off.

“You know this guy?” The man asked, watching you in the rear view mirror.

“Him?” You asked, brows raised. “‘Course I know him, this… he’s Joel, he’s my best friend, s’fine.”

The driver nodded once.

“Good,” he said. “Take care of her, alright buddy?”

“Sure,” Joel said, setting you down in the back of the cab. “Always have.”

He got out and went around to the other door, almost tripping on the curb, before tugging you out of the backseat and against his side. You laughed and then shushed yourself.

“Sorry,” you tried to whisper but failed. “S’late, I should be quieter….”

“S’fine,” he slurred. “The neighbors think I’m trash anyway, not gonna ruin my reputation…”

You snorted at that.

“Assholes.”

He helped you up to the front door and fumbled with the lock, the two of you stumbling in. Julie, Sarah’s babysitter, shot up off the couch, a groggy look on her face.

“Wha?” She blinked for a second.

You yelped and Joel shushed you.

“Sorry,” you failed at whispering again. “But Joel… there’s a teenager in… you’ve got a teenager on your couch.”

“Yeah, she does that,” he tried to whisper back. “S’fine. How’d it go, Julie? Everything OK?”

“All good, Mr. Miller,” she stretched and got up, meeting Joel in the entry way. “She went down at 9:30 after trying to talk me into watching Coyote Ugly…”

“Oh lord,” Joel sighed. “Last thing she needs is to get it in her head that she should be singin’ and dancin’ on a bar…”

“Don’t worry, I said no,” she smiled. “But I think one of her friends at school is obsessed with it, not sure how else she’d know about it… Anyway. How about you pay me next week?”

“Oh shit,” he said, going for his wallet. She laughed.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” she said. “Not sure you’d remember paying me right now and I’m even less sure you can count.”

“Thanks,” he said, grateful. “You drive safe, alright kiddo?”

“Will do,” she laughed a little. “Night, Mr. Miller. And Mr. Miller’s… friend.”

“Night!” You said, a little loud before clamping your hand over your mouth and laughing. Once the door was closed, you turned your attention back to him. “Ooooo you’re Mr. Miller now.”

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ old,” he said, guiding you inside. “Here, I’m gonna put you to bed and then I’ll take the couch…”

“You absolutely will not,” you snorted. “I’m… I can sleep on the couch, not… not letting you take the couch in your own house. ‘Specially not when you’re old enough to be Mr. Miller.”

“Goldie…”

“I will move and sleep on the floor.”

He sighed and started moving you toward the couch.

“You ever gonna be less stubborn?”

“Nope,” you popped your lips on the p as he set you down. He got the blanket Julie had been asleep under and draped it over you as you snuggled into the couch. “Hey Joel?”

“Hm?”

“Who was that girl?” You asked, eyes already closed. “Why… why did you have a teenager in your house? This is your house, right?”

“S’my house,” he said, tucking you in. “And don’t worry ‘bout it. Just go to sleep.”

You yawned.

“Thanks, Joel,” your voice was groggy. “For taking care of me. Missed you.”

He stopped and looked back at you for a moment.

“Missed you, too.”

He went to bed, trying not to think of the last time you’d fallen asleep on him.

***

The Morning After Prom

May, 2008

The pink and orange of dawn woke you up. You were on Joel’s chest, his shirt unbuttoned so you could feel his skin on yours and your dress was still bunched around your waist from when Joel had slid the straps down your arms the night before.

You enjoyed it for a moment. The feel of Joel’s skin, how his chest rose and fell with his breaths, how the early morning light caught in the curls that had broken free of the gel you were sure his mom had put in it the night before. He smelled good, like cologne - the kind that a man would wear, not the Axe shit that drenched the hallways of your school - and soap and a hint of sweat that just felt like the essence of him. You wanted to stay like this with him forever. Be this close, know him in this way. It felt right, it felt beyond just good.

And then you remembered, you weren’t supposed to be here.

“Joel,” you whispered, sitting up from him and shaking him gently but urgently. “Joel, wake up!”

“Hm?” He mumbled, groggy, his eyes opening slowly.

“We fell asleep,” you said, still whispering even though there was no one here to hear you. “We’re not supposed to be up here, we have to go!”

“Shit,” he blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked you over and you were suddenly fiercely aware of how naked you were, how the light of day was creeping in and casting over your exposed skin. Joel reached out and cupped your cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out…”

“It’s OK,” you said quickly, clutching your dress over your naked breasts as you slid the straps back on. “But we should get home, we didn’t tell our moms that we were going to be out all night, I’m sure they’re pissed…”

“It’s prom,” he said. “Think they expected it to be a late one. But… you’re right, we should get going.”

Joel got up and offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. It wasn’t until you moved your lower half that you realized how sore you were between your thighs, your skirt falling back down to your feet. Joel held your hand for a moment once you were standing and his skin felt hot against yours. You dropped his hand and cleared your throat awkwardly.

“You should button your shirt,” you said quietly, nodding to his bare chest. “And… um… Zip up your pants.”

“Oh,” he looked down. “Um… Right. Right.”

He moved quickly as you looked over as much of your dress as you could see and Joel used the glass of the press box as a mirror to adjust his hair.

“Do I look OK?” You asked when he was done, turning so he could see the whole dress. “Not like… not like we….”

“There’s… um…” he cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think we made a mess of the back of your dress, I didn’t think… should have moved it, I guess…”

“Shit,” you twisted, trying to spot it. “Do you think…”

“Just don’t turn your back to your mom,” he said quickly. “Should… should be OK.”

“Right,” you said. “Yeah, that’s… right. OK.”

Joel led the way to his car and the two of you sat in silence on the ride home. You kept glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, his elbow propped on the door of the car, hand on his mouth, his face drawn.

What were you supposed to do now? You’d never done… this. You’d never been in this position and now you were here with Joel, the person who was your best friend, the person you knew better than anyone else in the world, the person that everything had felt so right with it had been impossible to stop.

But what did you do now?

He stopped in your drive way and sat there, staring straight ahead.

“Thank you,” you said. He looked at you, his eyes a little wide. “For taking me to prom, I mean. It was… I had… It was good. I liked it. It was good.”

“Yeah,” he nodded after a moment. “Yeah, I’m glad I… got to go with you. To prom.”

“Right.”

You looked at him. You wanted to kiss him. Wanted him to hold onto you and tell you that everything was going to be OK and that you were going to figure this out and it would be you and him together just like it always had been.

Instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“I’ve got church this morning,” he said. “And then we’re goin’ to help my grandma in the afternoon so I don’t think I can see you until tomorrow…”

“I’ve got that doctor’s appointment in the morning,” you said. “So… I guess I’ll just… I’ll see you at school?”

“Right,” he said. “Yeah, right. I’ll… I’ll see you at school.”

You smiled tightly at him and leaned in slowly to kiss him on the cheek, hoping that he would turn his head and press his lips to yours the way he had the night before.

He didn’t.

“Thanks, Joel.”

“Yeah.”

You went inside and got undressed in your bathroom, looking at the stain on your dress, hoping you’d be able to get the stain of your blood and his come out before your mother noticed and it ruined anything else.

Next Chapter

A/N: Eeeeeeee! I'm so excited now that this story is properly going!

I hope you enjoy exploring Joel and Goldie with me. I really love their friendship and the way they care for each other and I think there's so much to explore with the both of them.

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Thank you for being here! It really does mean so much to me to share this story with you. Love you!!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

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