#devilfic

Harley hates it so much. He hates having to spend time in a city that reminds him so much of the one he spent his early childhood in, to walk by alleys like the ones where he used to dig in the dumpsters for food or steal from other homeless while they slept. He's not exactly emotionally sound and he hasn't confronted that past at all, just tried not to think about it, and it hurts him right in the chest to feel that same shame and anxiety of walking the streets where he doesn't belong.

Yet you still spot him staring at you across the room at your local bars, and he tails you whenever you come to the farmer's market on the weekends. He's trying to figure out where you live but he's not exactly sneaky, and it's almost cute to see your stalker move so awkwardly in a crowd when he's trying to be subtle but his body just dwarfs most other people in his way. He sticks out like a sore thumb everywhere he goes.

He brings you gifts and tries to talk to you but it all falls away in an instant every time. He just shoves a carton of eggs at you or stuffs a paper bundle of fresh veggies in your bag when you turn around. He's not a talker. He just grunts. He wants to provide for you and that's inherent in his personality, but there's only so much he can do and it makes him so frustrated he wants to tear his own hair out. Why won't you just fall for his ruses to help him get something from his truck, and he can shove you in it and drive away? At the core of his being he's just really fucking lonely, and of all the people that piss him off in the world the only one he likes remains just barely out of his grasp.

Hell, he even considers asking Elias of all people for help because he's that desperate. Both emotionally and sexually he's completely strung out and just needs something more, a kiss, maybe a brush of his hand against your ass, anything to provide him some relief from the drought he's been suffering at your hands.

Eventually, maybe with his help or not, Harley will find the place you call home. He'll show up looking like a sad, wet puppy who's also kind of pissed when he shoves flowers into your hands and tells you to go on a date with him. No asking. If you try to refuse he'll just shoulder his way through your door so you can't shut it in his face. If you're not receptive he kind of holds you hostage in your own home and what are you even gonna do about it? He's big, he's muscly, and he's mean. He could yank your phone out of your hand and snap it in two if he needed to. So don't even think about calling the police.

He can be even scarier if you're nice to him, hoping that it'll ease him off of you, because Harley isn't around people all that often and he'll take it as you being interested. He might corner you on your couch or in your kitchen with his warm breath on your cheek, both hands gripping your waist so tight it hurts because he can just imagine squeezing it while he bounces you on his lap. Even if it goes no further he's at least pressuring you into a kiss, albeit a sloppy and hungry one that feels like he's trying to swallow you whole. If he's this pent-up he can only imagine how you feel, having nothing to fill you up while you've been avoiding him. Surely you'd like him even more if you knew how good he could make you feel. At least that's something he knows for certain he's good at.