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#incorrect peterharley
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Peter: Well, what's a real punishment anyway.
MJ: Can be anything as long as they don't enjoy it.
Harley: Death
Ned: They said, "doesn't"
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Harley: *drunk* You know who's the prettiest man in the world?
Peter: uhhh me?
Harley: False, its fucking Ryan Reynolds.
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allstarnotrek · 4 years
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Parkner headcanon
Peter, on facetime: babe... pls dont be mad but... I did something
Harley, internally: this can't be good
Harley, externally: *sighs* I wont be mad. What did you do?
Peter, sheepishly: I, uh... may or may not have bought a chicken
Harley, thinking he means a rotisserie chicken or some shit: oh, that's all? That's fine. I'm totally down for chicken for dinner.
Peter: no, I mean, like... an actual chicken
Harley: you mean, like... a live chicken?
Peter: ... yeah...
Harley: ... you're joking
Peter: *holds the chicken up to the camera* his name is Greg
Harley:
Peter:
Harley: ... Peter. Babe.
Peter: yeah?
Harley: we live in an apartment in New York.
Peter: and?
Harley: where the FUCK is he gonna live?
Peter:... I didn't think that far in advance
Bonus pic:
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akinorikonohas · 5 years
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Harley: *goes to jokingly try and pick up Peter, not actually expecting to, because Peter’s really ripped so he MUST be heavy*
Harley: *actually picks Peter up, and far too easily*
Harley: Peter, why are you so light?
Peter: Well that’s because I don’t really have bones—
Harley: You don’t have WHAT
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dead-inside-pt2 · 4 years
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Harley: hey do have the scissors I need to cut this can open
Peter: *hiding the scissors in a nearby drawer*
Peter: No I don’t have them
Harley: the fridge turned it into a slushy
Peter, opening the drawer: Oh here they are
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fourteendaysinaweek · 4 years
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Burlesque Lounge: Part 3
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (here) | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Harley
I honestly cannot believe I let him work. I could get fired. Unlikely, as Tony loves me and I'm practically his son, but the possibility is there.
It's his second day on the job, when Tony finds out.
"Hey, Harls." I look at him as him and Rhodey lean against the bar.
"Yes, Tony?"
"What's he doing here?" I look at Peter, wearing a dark red button up shirt with the last two unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, passing out drinks.
"He is our new waiter."
"And when did I make you head of personal?" I shrug.
"He just picked up a tray, started working." He nods. "Oh, and his name is Peter." He nods again.
"Hey, Peter?" I see the look of 'oh shit' cross his face.
"Yes?" He asks when he gets over to us. Tony reaches out and unbuttons his shirt all the way.
"You got abs, use 'em. Flaunt 'em. Work 'em." He let's out a breath. "You look nerdy, many gay guys and straight girls like that. Use it. Got glasses?" He nods. "Wear them." He smiles. "And one more thing. Don't ever go behind my back again."
"Yes sir."
"And don't ever call me sir."
"Yes ma'am—I mean sir—I mean, Tony." Rhodey laughs beside his boyfriend.
"Go, get back on the floor." He takes the tray back from me and walks off. "Sir. Who am I? My father?"
~~~
~~~
"Hey Harley!" Shuri hops up onto the bar, the girls doing the same.
"Hey ladies, I take it the guys are about to perform?" They nod.
"Oh is Peter a waiter now?" I nod at Shuri.
"Awesome! I mean, I'm kinda sad he isn't dancing, but at least he's working."
"I take it you were the girl that plowed him down?"
"You'd be correct."
"You know her, never looking where she's going." MJ rolls her eyes.
"I wish he would take Flash's place." Betty rolls her eyes.
"Don't we all?" I say wistfully as the lights go down and the curtain rises.
As they perform Pony, the girls go get ready to perform Diamonds. Peter is staring at the stage as he backs up to the bar. When he doesn't turn around to give me the drinks, I roll my eyes.
"Earth to Peter." He turns.
"Rocks bottle of—"
"Of Don and keep it coming." I look at the card and start refilling and retrieving.
"Regular?"
"Obadiah Stane, big realtor guy. Trying to get into Tony's Bank account since the nineties, doing so by trying to get into Flash's pants this week." He looks back at the guy.
"Sounds fun." He has a disgusted look on his face. I laugh.
"Hey, he's practically rich, so as long he's buying, we'll keep serving." I continue to fill the rest of the drinks. He stares wistfully at the stage.
"I wanna be up there." He tells me.
"The question is, can you do it?"
"I can."
"Can you?"
"Yes."
"Are you ready?"
"Yes." He laughs.
"Good." I finish setting the newly refilled drinks on the tray. "Because you're on." I slide the tray to him and he gives me a look, but takes them anyway.
~~~
~~~
After closing, Peter slumps onto the bar stool next to me.
"Hey, Ossining. Tired?" He nods, but is grinning.
"Why do the dancers lip sync?" I blink.
"What?"
"All the dancers lip sync, its pretty obvious when Flash is two beats behind the entire last half of a song. Why?"
"Oh... I don't know. Our audience doesn't care about voices. They come to see the dancers dance to other great performers."
"But why not let them sing? It might even raise revenue."
"Kid, you don't know anything about running this place. Don't act like you do." I warn.
"I'm not acting like I do, I do. Well, kinda. I worked at a bar for a while and when we needed to raise revenue we hired a band or got a karaoke machine and set up karaoke nights. It wor—"
"Peter." I cut him off. "It's above our pay grade to worry about."
"I don't know what that means." He confesses and I have to laugh. "I heard Tony and Rhodey talking about the possibility of foreclosure a—"
"Tony and Rhodey won't let this place go under. Trust me." He sighs. "I'm headin' out." I put on my shirt and stretch. "You probably should too." He doesn't move. "Earth to Ossining. It's time to clock out."
"I heard you, I'm just not looking forward to walking." I stop.
"Walking?"
"Yea. I don't have a ca—"
"You're not walking. Come on. I'll take you."
"Harley you don't hav—"
"Shut up, and come on."
I regret riding my bike today when we get out, but it's not as if I have another vehicle.
"That's your car?" He asks as I take the tarp off.
"Yea?" He examines it and cracks a smile.
"Is it really a Harley?" I throw the tarp at him.
"I'm named after it, okay?" He gives me a curious look as he puts the tarp in the box.
"What do you mean?" I straddle the bike and hand him the helmet.
"My dad loved his bikes more than my mom, so she named their first child after them. I'm Harley, and my sister is Abby, because that's what he called his bike. Turns out Abby was the name of the girl he ran off with." I fix the helmet so it fits him better.
"Oh."
"Yup. I turned eighteen and legally the bike became mine. Which is why it's bright red. He hated the color. I love it. Where do you live?"
"Uh, thirty-fourth and fifth. Unit 2A." I nod and scoot as far up as I can and pat the seat behind me. He gives me a look.
"Calm down, Ossining. I don't bite until the second date." He snorts and slides on behind me. I laugh when he awkwardly puts his hands barely on my waist. "Peter you are gonna wanna hold on." I start her up and rev the engine. I can feel him wrap his arms around me tight. "Scared?" I have to raise my voice to be heard. He nods. "Don't be." I take off, going four blocks out of my way to drop him off.
~~~
~~~
"And here we are." I pull into a parking space. He doesn't loosen his grip until I set up the kickstand. He takes the helmet off and awkwardly gets off. "Are you okay?" He nods.
"I've just never been on a bike in a while..." I nod.
"Not what I meant, but okay."
"What?"
"Something has to be wrong for you to walk fourteen blocks twice a day." I take my helmet back.
"It's not that far."
"Bullshit. I'm gonna take you to work and I'm taking home. That's too far to walk at night in Manhattan."
"I can take care of myself."
"I'm not saying you can't. I'm saying that people are crazy and it's dangerous for anyone."
"Oh."
"Yea." I pause. "And just because you can, doesn't mean you should have to. You should always have someone with you when walking anywhere anymore."
"Okay, May." He rolls his eyes.
"What?"
"Oh, uh, my aunt. You sounded just like her."
"I'll take that as a compliment. Now I'm not leaving until I see you get into your building okay, okay? I'll see you at six."
"See you at six, thanks again."
"Good night, Peter."
"Good night, Harley." I watch him enter the building and my phone rings.
"Hey, babe." I smile.
"Hey..." My face falls.
"That's not a good sound, Nate."
"Filming has been held up." We both sigh. "I know. I was hoping to be home for your birthday but..."
"I understand, sweetheart."
"Um, on a better note I finally met my love interest. He's pretty cool." I ignore the pang of jealousy in my chest.
"That's good, I guess."
"I know you don't like the idea of me playing a love interest but that's the business I'm in, my sweet."
"I know, I know."
"You think I like you working at a strip club?" I sigh. Here we go again.
"It's not a strip club. It's a—"
"Whatever it is, it's way more dangerous than filming a movie." I roll my eyes. "Places like that are a breeding ground for creeps."
"So is the entire world. I love working there. I finally found something that I like that doesn't require me to be knee deep in machine oil twenty-four seven. Something away from home, you used to be happy for me."
"That was before I had to leave, I could keep an eye on you."
"Keep an eye on me? I'm not a child." We always end up like this.
***
***
So sorry this is weirdly cut off I hit the max like seven lines from the end and I needed it to make enough sense to end it and have the second part be long enough to stand alone.
Tag List:
@name-me-regret
@fuck-you-with-a-fork
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bruciewayne · 5 years
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harley, leaning against tony’s motorcycle, wearing tony’s gucci leather jacket, pretending that they’re his: so, i heard you like bad boys
peter, knowing full well that they’re tony’s: not really
harley, throwing the jacket away: oh thank god
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Conversation
Harley: I don't need to study maths, I'm never going to need it.‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎
‎‏‏‎[Several years later, on a mission]
Tony: Okay, we attack on the count of three.
Harley: Fuck.
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MJ: Say yes to masks and no to bras.
Peter: FREE DA TITTY TO PROTECT THE CITY
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Harley, in the next room over: YOU’RE A COWARD AND A TRAITOR!
Tony: Is he okay?
Peter: One of his islanders is asking to leave.
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Peter: Ah yes my train of thought.
Peter: Or as I like to call it, the anxiety express.
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Peter: Bold of me to constantly use the phrase “no worries!” when I am, in fact, constantly full of many worries.
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Harley: The rich should get robbed once a week.
Peter: Why?
Harley: Builds character.
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Tony, to the other Avengers: Once I fix my sleep schedule, start eating healthily, get physically fit, beat depression, marry Pepper, officially adopt Peter, Harley and Nebula, and learn how to do taxes, then it's over for you bitches.
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Peter: Consider the following.
Peter: Seatbelts. Except they throw you out of your seat and they’re called yeetbelts.
Tony, frantically whispering to FRIDAY: What the fuck is a yeet
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Harley: Last night a found out Peter is a sleep talker.
Ned: Really?
Harley: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am
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