First of all, sorry for not pumping out as much content as usual this week. Since finals are coming up, I’ve been bogged down with a bunch of last-minute assignments including a 6-page paper due tomorrow night that I’ve hardly touched. Because of this, I regret to say I haven’t gotten much writing done this week.
I’ve gotten about three chapters ahead on CLARITAS and I’m hoping to publish part 6 sometime this afternoon. Reminder to please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the tag list when it updates!
A GLITCH IN THE PROGRAMMING is, as you can guess, still not coming along at the rate I’d like. I’ve got two chapters ready to publish, but after that I’ve got no new ideas flowing at the moment. I might have to move this to the back burner for a little while until I dig myself out of this writer’s block.
Finally, people seemed to really take a liking to the experimental Harley Quinn one shot from earlier this week. If that’s something people are interested in, I’ll start practicing with a couple more Harley Quinn pieces—and I’ve still got a Cara Dune x Reader on my to-do list!
Words: 1k || Warnings: alcohol, mentions of cheating, breakups, language
a/n: wanted to mix things up a bit while I’m waiting for AGITP inspiration to come back to me. This can definitely be read as platonic, if you prefer.
Her hand clapped you hard on the back, causing you to grunt into your shot glass of brightly-colored liquor. Although it initially was not a gentle gesture, she moved her hand up from the middle of your back to squeeze your shoulder and rub in a semi-soothing circle near the hem of your shirt. “You can do better than her anyways,” said your companion, head lolling to the side through her partially drunken state.
Harley Quinn was a lot of things. She was loud and spontaneous, and smarter than people gave her credit for, but she was not, by any means, a woman who half-assed things. After getting out of a long relationship with a girl who, despite your chemistry and her stellar good looks, didn’t deserve the title of “girlfriend” in the long run, you’d been taking the hit pretty hard.
You hated to admit the way your heart clenched every time you remembered the sight of her on top of some tattoo’d up, motorcycle lover of a man on the couch you two had bought together, but it hadn’t been the first time she’d broken your heart in such a manner.
Turns out, Harley had been a solid shoulder to cry on, having recently gotten out of her terrible relationship with the clown she’d spent so many years chasing after. As far as you could tell, she’d really taken it in stride, so it was no surprise she was the first one in your friend group you turned to to ask for a place to stay for a few weeks until you were back on your feet.
She’d mostly ignored you the first few times she heard you crying from her tiny guest bedroom, but the third time was enough to push her over the edge. That’s when she barged in and suggested the two of you go out and get absolutely hammered at the local bar. That’s exactlywhat you did.
Words: 1k || Warnings: alcohol, mentions of cheating, breakups, language
a/n: wanted to mix things up a bit while I’m waiting for AGITP inspiration to come back to me. This can definitely be read as platonic, if you prefer.
Her hand clapped you hard on the back, causing you to grunt into your shot glass of brightly-colored liquor. Although it initially was not a gentle gesture, she moved her hand up from the middle of your back to squeeze your shoulder and rub in a semi-soothing circle near the hem of your shirt. “You can do better than her anyways,” said your companion, head lolling to the side through her partially drunken state.
Harley Quinn was a lot of things. She was loud and spontaneous, and smarter than people gave her credit for, but she was not, by any means, a woman who half-assed things. After getting out of a long relationship with a girl who, despite your chemistry and her stellar good looks, didn’t deserve the title of “girlfriend” in the long run, you’d been taking the hit pretty hard.
You hated to admit the way your heart clenched every time you remembered the sight of her on top of some tattoo’d up, motorcycle lover of a man on the couch you two had bought together, but it hadn’t been the first time she’d broken your heart in such a manner.
Turns out, Harley had been a solid shoulder to cry on, having recently gotten out of her terrible relationship with the clown she’d spent so many years chasing after. As far as you could tell, she’d really taken it in stride, so it was no surprise she was the first one in your friend group you turned to to ask for a place to stay for a few weeks until you were back on your feet.
She’d mostly ignored you the first few times she heard you crying from her tiny guest bedroom, but the third time was enough to push her over the edge. That’s when she barged in and suggested the two of you go out and get absolutely hammered at the local bar. That’s exactlywhat you did.
Three drinks in, and you were crying into your elbow while your flashy friend went on and on about how your ex didn’t know who she’s messing with, and how you deserve more than someone who’s going to waste your time like that, so on and so forth.
By now you’d lost count of the number of drinks you’d accepted from the bartender, and by now you were no longer shedding tears of sorrow, and instead tears of laughter as Harley tried (and failed) to bribe the bartender for another round in exchange for a manicure. He looked thoroughlyunamused, and you apologetically fished out a few dollar bills to finish off the night at the bar with one more round for the two of you.
“I’m tellin’ ya, babe,” Harley slurred, scooping her shot glass off the table and clinking it against yours, “Bein’ single may just be the best thing that’s ever happened to ya! Ya getta chance to discover the real you, and ain’t that really the only thing that matters? Plus, come here on a good night,” she leaned dangerously far back on her barstool so she could gesture vaguely around at the other nearby patrons, “And you get a tonna free drinks. Everyone’s bein’ awful cheap here tonight.”
With a wink in your direction, she downed her shot. As you followed her lead, you heard her exhale loudly and stretch her arms above her head. “Well, that’s about all I got on me for tonight. Whaddya say we call it a night early and head back to my place? We can make popcorn and watch some cheesy movie to cheer ya up!”
“Yeah, Har, sounds great,” you replied, easing yourself off the stool and trying to steady yourself so you didn’t crash to the floor and cause a scene.
Harley looped an arm around your waist to keep you upright, snickering softly. “You’re gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, toots… bucha know what? So’m I, so I guess we’ll do that togetha too.”
By some miracle, you both made it back to her apartment with little to no trouble, besides an occasional stumble and getting lost once when Harley drunkenly pulled you down the wrong street. Once you were both in the door, Harley all but collapsed on the couch in the middle of the room, groaning and shoving her face into one of the cushions. You followed suit quickly after, tipping your head back to catch your breath.
After a moment, you heard her familiar drawl from beside you. “I know I promised ya popcorn,” Harley said, “But I don’t think my legs are cooperatin’ anymore tonight.”
You laughed and ran a hand through your hair, moving it out of your face. “Mine either. Don’t worry.”
You heard a faint shuffling from beside you, and before you could respond, Harley was laying her head across your lap, blinking up at you with blue eyes and a drunken smile. “I mean it tomorrow though. S’ gonna be the best fuckin’ popcorn you eva had, too. And whateva movie ya want. What’s your favorite? Y’like movies, right?”
“Yeah, I like movies, Har,” you chuckled, affectionately patting her on the head.
“Me too,” she slurred, turning her face against your stomach, “I like ‘em too. We’ll watch some damn good movies,” with that, she lifted her arm and lifted her pinkie, “I swear it. Pinkie swear.”
You blinked and tried to move your arm to capture her pinkie with yours to seal the deal. You missed a few times, but as soon as you locked fingers, you could already hear her snoring.
Yeah.
Breakups are hard. Breakups suck. But not just anyone can boast they got to spend the night getting over their ex with Harleen Quinzel. Not everyone can boast they got to share a couch with her, either. Or that she promised them a day of movies and popcorn together, enjoying each other’s company.
That was something that distinctly belonged to you.
And goddammit, you felt a piece of your heart soften in favor of Harley Quinn that night.
A Glitch in the Programming is coming along very slowly. I think I’ve hit a wall at the moment, so updates will be a little less frequent until I can get out of my hole.
On the other hand, I’m planning on posting CLARITAS 4 tomorrow, and I’ve also got a Harley Quinn/Reader drabble I’ve been kicking around in my head. Maybe a Cara Dune/Reader as well.
Synopsis : Oh no, the Joker is after your life again, this is sooOOoo unexpected…When you get picked up from your work by one Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, you can’t really say you’re surprised. You’ve lived in Gotham all your life. And Batman is your husband. This is not the weirdest thing that happened. Although you do have to admit that Harley and Ivy actually SAVING you because Bruce asked them, is rather novel. And finding yourself suddenly talking about your respective domestic life with them ? Definitely new. Never a boring day in Gotham, right ?
The word “Batbrat” came to my mind while looking at comics where the batkids are being little smartasses, and it made me think of something Harley Quinn would say…And here we are. I hope you will like it :) :
Bruce had to admit, this was an unusual situation. Although not unforeseen given the past few years. But it was odd, and a little funny, that The Batman was now standing in front of two of his fiercest (ex-)enemies, asking for their help.
To their defense, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy really turned their lives around, ever since Ivy helped Harley escape the Joker’s grasp. Helped her open her eyes to how toxic the relationship was, to say the least. Ironic, right, that the actual poisoned person would help you realize you’re surrounded by toxicity ?
Turned their lives around, yes, but they were still up to lots of mischief. And Bruce encountered them many times since they stopped being “full time villains”, but extreme problems required extreme solutions, really.
“Yes. Funny.”
“Oh come ooooon, say it with a little more liveliness ! The situation is really funny !”
Silence. Bruce is trying to stay patient, because this is really important. But inside, he’s screaming, and panicking a little. There is no time to be wasted ! So he says :
“I guess it is funny.”
“Yet no smile.”
“Smiling is more ofhis thing, is it not ?”
“Wow, hey ! If you want us to help, be nice !”
Damn it, he probably shouldn’t have referred to Joker in front of Harley in that way, it wasn’t on purpose. Really.
“Please, we don’t have much time. My wife-”
“You asking us for help is a first.”
“It is.”
Dealing with someone like Harley Quinn requires patience. And Bruce, even in the worst moments, can be patient if needed.
“Rumors say you don’t even ask Superman for help.”
“I most definitely don’t ask Superman for help.”
“But he’s your friend, right ?”
“…”
“He’s not ?”
“…Yes. Yes he’s my friend.”
“So we’re like, your best friends if you ask our help.”
“More like my only option.”
“That’s rude.”
“Truth hurts.”
“Haha, that’s true ! I know that !”
“So, are you going to help me or not ?”
Harley and Ivy pretend to ponder for a second, before saying :
“Of course, we’re going to help. Especially if it’s to help against him…”
“Yes. We’ll protect your wife from the creep.”
“Thank you.”
They could not see Bruce’s eyes, but they knew. They knew he was genuinely grateful and a big weight had been lifted off of his chest.
When he came to them, half an hour ago, and explained the situation, it took them a little while to understand he was asking them to help him. But then it all made sense, right ? Who, more than Harley Quinn would want to stop the Joker from hurting more people ?
Neither Harley nor Ivy were “the good guys”. But as Harley managed to escape Joker’s emprise on her, and as Ivy realized there were more efficient ways to save the planet than what she did up until know, they sort of became “anti-heroes”, and known in Gotham to be the people you went to when you didn’t know to whom else you could turn.
They gladly helped lost children and distressed women. And sort of became an actual living nightmare for any abusive men in their vicinity. A polarizing topic really. They were doing good, but their methods were too violent and…
Were they really that different from Bruce ? Yes. Yes of course they were. They were still Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, they weren’t “fighting” for the same ideals your husband had. However, mindless mayhem and destruction was not their thing.
And when The Batman himself asked them to save his wife from the Joker, could they really say no ?
“Careful, she has a mean right hook.”
Bruce says, with a small smirk, and then he hurries off to join his kids. They have a clown to catch.
************
“Did he just smile ?”
“He did.”
“Damn, what is this woman ?”
“Probably a witch, we should be careful when picking her up.”
“Yes, careful of the right hook too.”
“Alright, let’s go. I guess we sort of own it to him..”
They were helping him, because he helped them first… Contrary to popular belief, The Batman wasn’t just a violent, cold and unforgivable vigilante. He was one of the only person who took into account Harley’s mental illnesses, or Ivy’s deeper message…He did not agree with them, of course not, he was one of the “good guy” and would never derive from this “code” he settled for himself. But he genuinely understood.
Harley bet that nobody ever noticed that he never attacked first, unless there was a hostage situation. That he tried to understand those he stopped, especially when they suffered from the mind, like Harley, or Scarface, or his former friend, Two-Face…
Batman wasn’t who everyone thought he was. Harley and Ivy knew. Which is why they accepted to help him, and to go put his wife in safety.
“Don’t worry, we’re here to rescue you. Mm ? Oh, ignore the gun, it’s not for you, sorry ‘bout that haha”
Could they really blame you, when your first reflex as they suddenly appeared before you when you were leaving work, was to clock them in the face and run ?
No. No of course they couldn’t. Neither Harley nor Ivy had really a good reputation, even now. Only in Gotham’s slums, did they start to know they weren’t villains anymore.
Plus, you were Batman’s wife (something that of course, nobody in Gotham knew, except a few people who figured out…like Harley, although it was a total accident, years ago, that revealed the truth to her).
So no, they can’t really blame you. They catch to you, thankfully, before you go out in the streets of Gotham, and after quite a big struggle, manage to imobilize you and show a video of your husband. You instantly calm down, intrigued :
“Hello my love, I am sorry I did not send you any messages prior to Harley and Pamela’s arrival, everything happened very fast. The Joker escaped after coercing some guards at Arkham Asylum, and threatened to take you again. I had to think fast, because he was going to act fast.”
Bruce goes on to explain the situation quickly, however it’s obvious you’re still on edge and don’t quite believe things. It is easy, after all, to fake a video…And in your mind, Harley was close to the Joker. What if this is a trap ?
“By the way this is really me. I know you must be on edge, and untrusting, and that’s great by the way. Keep at it. But it’s really me. my proof ? Your weakness is when I V-R-Y-A-T-W-A-T-T-C-O-Y-S you.”
Your entire face feels warms, as you understand instantly what he’s talking about, while Harley and Ivy looks curiously at you. How dare. How dare he says such a thing on camera like that ?? Of course, not many people could understand but you, you-
“What ? Is that an acronym or something ? What the hell, and you guys call us mentally disturbed, how do you even know what the letters mean ?”
“I don’t !”
“You sure ? Cause you look hella embarrassed…Come on, tell us, what did he say ? Was it naughty naughty ?”
“Nothing ! It’s nothing !”
In a second, you are relaxed, and as they keep teasing you and trying to get you to talk, your odd journey of the day is starting.
************
“Sorry for the punch.”
“It’s ok, I guess you couldn’t know we were on the good sides this time. Whatever it means. Spoiler alert : it doesn’t mean we’re good now. We just want the Joker neutralized as much as your family does. Without killing him…”
Ah. It kind of hurts your heart, to be honest, to see how fiercely she does seem to want to stop her ex-partner in crime, yet without killing him.
“Killing him is too nice. Arkham drives him nuts, he hates it there, it’s a good punishment.”
Ah. Right. Probably. But you can’t help thinking about how hard it must be on Harley, after all she went through. All the thing HE put her through.
You should feel wary of her, after all she was there when he once kidnapped you (A/N : reference to this story :“You’re mister J’s new obsession, Sugar”), but you can’t. Because you know how manipulated she was, and you know the real villain is him. She doesn’t even seem to recall this episode, she shows no sign of it at least. You do know certain people block memories out of their head, to protect themselves…
After all, if Harley Quinn was truly a bad person, she wouldn’t be helping you right now, right ?
“Do not worry, we are not going to hurt you. I think Batman would hunt us to the end of the World, if we touched even one hair of your head.”
“Oooh Batsy, he’s suuuuuuper in love with you, it’s disgusting, tooth rotting, and I hate the dentist. We really won’t harm you, you know.”
You nod, still a bit unsure, until something suddenly hits you…
“Where are the children ??”
“Oh don’t worry, Batsy’s taking care of the brats. They were with him when we left.”
You release a sigh of relief. Of course, them being with Bruce meant that they were actively going after the Joker…But it’s not like anyone could stop them. They were all rather stubborn. And you trusted them. You trusted Bruce. You knew he’d keep them safe, and in control of their emotions. He was good, at keeping them grounded during important missions…
Of course, it didn’t mean you weren’t worried as hell. For all of them.
“You’re not saying anything ?”
“Mm ? Sorry ? About what ?”
“Me calling your kids “brats” ?”
“Oh, no. I mean. They can definitely be brats.”
“Wow. I’ve seen you with them, and defending them, I’d never think you’d ever say they’re brats…”
Harley is genuinely surprised. You guessed she was judging out of the few encounters she had with all of you reunited, but also by all of Gotham’s tabloids picturing y’all as a “perfect family”.
“They’re not brats like people can think they are. They never ask us for material things they don’t need, they’re not spoiled and they are well behaved…But everyone has bad days.”
“That is true.”
“My children are amazing, and they’re not like other children for sure. You know I’m not just saying that because they’re my kids, they are really…different. But they’re not perfect. Just like every kid, they can throw tantrums. Or get frustrated with us. Get really bratty, really. I don’t think it’s that bad. I don’t actually mind that much, it’s proof they are still children, you know ?”
“I don’t really understand…”
“Well. They don’t have a “normal” life, what with being vigilantes and all. There’s a lot of times I wonder if…They’re ok, because they do miss out on being just regular kids you know ? So. When they act like a brat, like kids do sometimes…I don’t mind at all.”
“That’s actually such an adorable thing to say. You’re adorable. Ivy, can we keep her ?”
“It’shis wife, I don’t think he’ll let us. I don’t think she would want to either, right ?”
They both turn to you, and you can see they’re asking an actual serious question.
“Oh um…Sorry, when this is over I definitely want to go back to my family.”
Harley is visibly disappointed, and you’re not sure how to feel about this. But then she says :
“Well, tell us then.”
“Tell you what ?”
“About your brats ! We only know them as serious boring vigilantes who tell us “no” while we say “yes” ya know ? So tell us, tell us how they really are !”
“I’m not su-”
“If you’re worried about what Bruce will say, don’t worry, we won’t tell him. Not like we can use your kids’ bratty behavior against you anyway. And we have no intention to harm any of you. Batman…has been good to us.”
Yes. Yes he has. You know he has. He’s always had a soft spot for those who were victims, and became “bad”. That’s why he particularly despised the Joker. He stood for nothing, he had no background that could explain his evilness…he just was. The absolute perfect villain, irredeemable. Someone he would stop at all cost. Someone he would have no qualms using brute force against. It wasn’t the case with every “villain”. This was a common misconception about your husband. He wasn’t just a violent vigilante…But that was another story.
“Alright. Well, I guess the most logical thing to do is to start chronologically. See, none of my children are actual brats. They do have moments, however, when they act like perfect little brats…”
DICK
“I think Dick must’ve been the brattiest.”
“Really ? Nightwing ?”
You nod. There’s a fleeting thought in your mind that tells you you shouldn’t say your son’s real name, but then you’re reminded that they know who you all are. And never did anything to harm any of you.
“Yes. I know, when you look at all of them he’d probably be your last guess because of how happy-go-lucky he is, and calm and nice and such. But oh boy, sometimes…”
Dick was 8, when he entered yours and Bruce’s life. It was not that long after your relationship with Bruce became serious, and it was a lot at the same time. Neither of you were experienced with kids, and Dick was traumatized by his parents’ death.
It really hasn’t been easy, in the beginning…Oh, but this isn’t a story about how little Dickiebird came to be one of the brightest sun in your lives, and how tough the first few years were. No. This is a story about how, like every child, he behaved like a little brat, sometimes. You smile at Ivy and Harley, as they’re unaware of the little walk on memory lane you just took, and tell them :
“You know how many chandeliers we had to change when he was little ? Oh my god he used to jump from the BANISTERS onto the chandelier in the foyer exactly when I’d walk in just to freak me out. Then he’d laugh, and always threw me into panic mode when I could see the chandelier slowly unscrewing. He did that EVERY SINGLE TIME he was upset we told him no and such.”
“Upset you told him no ? What a brat !”
“I’m not going to say he wasn’t a brat at times, but he was a good kid. Dick just always had…trouble, when he was younger, at dealing with his anger. Now, it’s very rare that he gets angry, but my oh my when he does I really wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of it !”
Not that you ever were. When he was a child you would sometimes endure the brunt of his frustrations because he was not yet mature enough to truly control himself, now as an adult, he would only get very mad when someone would hurt a loved one, and of course it was never you.
But this wasn’t the point here. No. Right now, you were talking about how Dick and his often reckless behavior made you think : “brat !” about him a few times.
“Dick has always had particular ways of…being purposefully annoying. Sometimes to see how far he could push us, sometimes just because well, he could be a little brat. For example, when we’d stay too late in bed, and he was annoyed at that because he wanted to see us, he’d barge in our room, plunger in hand, and I kid you not, would jump on our bed, get some height, use that damn acrobat training he had since he was born, and stick himself to the ceiling with the plunger ??? How did he even had such an idea ?? And he’d really stick up there, just hang above us telling us it was time to wake up, or just giggling, and then Bruce would have to stand up on the bed to get him down safely, and well, we’d have to wake up. You wouldn’t believe the amount of rings on the ceiling he made. We had the repaint it at least twice.”
“No way !”
“Wayy ! To this day, you can’t find any plunger in Wayne Manor. Well, you can, but they’re all hidden under Alfred’s bed because Alfred’s room is the only place none of the kids dare to go in…”
“Oh so they barge into your room easy, but no in the butler’s room.”
You nod, smiling. Not feeling like going into long explanations about how Alfred is much more than just a butler, but knowing where you stand on the matter nonetheless.
“Dick used to drive us crazy, he would have such…creative ideas to show us he was upset about something. He didn’t have that many tantrums. Or rather, his tantrums translated in us having to run after him in the most crowded places in Gotham, while that little brat would parkour his way through easily…Brr, those were NOT good times.”
“I never knew Nightwing was such a difficult child.”
“Oh don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t. Not really. But he had his moment. And believe me, out of all of my kids, he’s probably the most stubborn one, and you really don’t want to get on his bad side.”
“That’s such a funny thing to think about. The Batman himself trying to get a kid who’s hanging from a plunger.”
“You’d be surprised about what’s really going on in our family haha.”
“I bet we would. I mean. To be honest, I always felt like there was more to the bat than what he let on, if only for all the time he showed me kindness when I probably didn’t deserve it.”
Ivy said, thoughtful. And how ironic again, right, that someone known as a “villain” would be one of the few people who didn’t stop themselves at their first impression of your husband ?
You smile, actually quite liking the idea that even people who fell on his wrong side still saw kindness in him. You knew him the best, of course. Along with Alfred. And you knew why he really did all this. That kicking some people’s asses was definitely not his motivation.
It was nice, to realize that Ivy actually thought rather highly of your husband. And that Harley did too, because he always took into consideration their mental illnesses and inner troubles.
It was nice, that once again, talking about your children and their relationship to their dad helped others to see that “the big bad bat”, was just a man after all.
JASON
“Contrary to popular belief, Jason was a very sweet child. He never even talked back ? When he got frustrated, he would go to his room, not saying a word, wouldn’t even slam his door, and then come apologize for his behavior…”
“Are we both talking about Red Hood right now ?”
“Yes, well he wasn’t always Red Hood now, was he ?”
Harley feels the weight of your eyes on her, and for a second, an old anger you thought was forgotten rises in you when you think about all the things your son went through because of…because of…Because of the Joker.
It wasn’t Harley, that took your baby away. It wasn’t her who used him to hurt your husband so deep he fell in a dark well again for years. It wasn’t her. She wasn’t even with the Joker, at that time.
You sigh, and say :
“Jason was a little street urchin, as some say. He learned how to survive in the streets, not to live. He had no idea what it was like to be taken care of. So when we took him in, and after his suspicions passed…He never acted out. Never. He absolutely worshipped his dad, and took everything I said as gospel. That’s probably why, when we didn’t avenge him he…”
“You don’t have to continue about this.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s ok, I understand. So. Red h-Jason, wasn’t a brat at all was he ?”
“Really, no. I honestly can’t recall a time he acted like a brat when he was little. Oh, of course there was that time he stole Bruce’s favorite lambo and went on a rodeo through Gotham because he thought we were going to give him up…He was 9.”
“He knew how to drive at 9 ??”
“He knew how to neutralize a man three times his size at 9.”
“Oh, right, sorry, forgot I was talking about your family.“
“It happens.”
“So…What happened ?”
“Ah, yes. Well you see, he got himself in danger stupidly during a night out, so Bruce got mad. Madder than he should’ve. He yelled, instead of explaining. Can’t blame him though, he really was shaken up. But in Jason’s mind, yelling equated to him soon being thrown away like garbage. Every time someone yelled at him, or around him, in his life prior to him being with us…he ended up abandoned. All alone. So…”
“So he thought you were going to give him up ? But that’s so silly, it was just a bit of yelling ?”
“You have to understand the way Jason grew up. To him, and his past traumas, it was more than just a bit of yelling. So he decided to leave before we told him we didn’t want him anymore…Can you imagine how heartbreaking a decision it was ? I don’t even know now that I’m telling the story, that this is really bratty behavior. Well. He did keep going even as Bruce chased him with the Batmobile, and he only stopped when he ran out of gas. Then he ran away, as fast he could. It took Bruce a while to catch up to him. And when he finally did, Jason didn’t make it easy. He fought back, yelling that he “didn’t want to hear it”. Once we understood what he was talking about, of course, we reassured him. And he calmed down. He fell asleep in Bruce’s arms as he brought him home. We never yelled at him again after that…Not even when he became the Red Hood, and wouldn’t listen to us.”
There’s a slight pause, an awkward one, a heavy one. Every one in the room knows what happened to your son…You do not want to dwell on this today. Not anymore. Not as you finally got your baby back, and just like he used to be, there’s not one “bratty” blood in his body.
“Rather boring I guess, a child who isn’t a brat at all haha. It’s easily explanable by how he grew up. He never wanted to disappoint us. I guess…He had more bratty behavior once he came back ? I…”
“You don’t have to talk about it.”
“Right. Well. Let me continue, then.”
“Go ahead, we’re listening.”
TIM
“Tim came shortly after Jason’s death. And when his own parents died and we officially adopted him, I must admit the beginning of his education might’ve been too full of extremes. On one hand, we’d never tell him “no” if he wanted something material or to do something not dangerous, on the other Bruce was extremely strict with him when he was Robin, even a little overbearing at times…You have to understand, we had just lost a son. We couldn’t bear to lose another one. We sheltered him a little too much, maybe, while spoiling him a lot. Not rotten though. But that is, thankfully, because Tim isn’t a bad kid. He grew up in a wealthy environment. He always had whatever he wanted, but his parents’ attention…So he craved ours a lot. And that’s maybe why sometimes he’d um…”
Silence. How could you put what Tim did without making yourself pass as a terrible parent ?
“He’d what ?”
“Tim had the bad habit of…sort of running away.”
“Sort of ?”
“Yes. He wasn’t really running away. He was going on “adventures” without telling us…”
“Oh, like a dog ? Like you know how certain dogs escape from their home’s garden when their owner go to work, and then come back before they do ?”
The analogy is special, comparing your child to a dog but…Harley isn’t wrong. Tim’s behavior was quite like that.
“The worst thing is that when he’d come back, he would really pretend like nothing happened. He’d just go off to look up on a case on his own, or because he suddenly wanted ice cream and went by himself. I think he was too used to do things on his own, as his parents weren’t very present and never really took care of him. It would make Bruce mad though, mad with worries. And then when Tim would come back, they’d get into stupid fights about it…”
Reminiscing of your husband during that time always hurt your heart. He was so afraid to loose more than what he already lost…
“It never deterred Tim to go off on his own though, oh no. On the contrary, he’d take great pleasure in bypassing Bruce’s security systems, and nag him about how easy it’d been, before leaving. That’s the bratty thing about it, I guess, how he’d sometimes would just act like anyway, we can’t stop him.”
It was frustrating, especially because you both knew Tim could be very reckless. It was also frustrating, and made you feel bad about yourself, that your own child would just decide to not listen and…Ah. But Dick did do this sort of things too, didn’t he ? You were just too used to Jason and…Jason and…
You didn’t want to think further about that time.
“Eventually, we did realize that his behavior was directly our fault. How could he understand our point of view if 1) we never explained to him why we did what we did, and 2) we’d tell him “yes” for everything except when it was related to his Robin duties ? Of course it was confusing for a ten years old boy eager to help. To be honest, most kids acting like “brats” are often like that because of the parents. Once we figured that out, well, we had a talk with him.”
“And did he understand your point of view ?”
“Tim is the smartest boy I ever met. He definitely understood. And that was our mistake really, to not take the time to explain things to him. Don’t get me wrong, even now he sometimes goes off by himself and LOVES to drive his father crazy by bypassing any security he settles, but it’s just…Well, it’s just because he’s a brat. He understands our view, and never pushes it too far. But he does like to push our buttons…Smart ass.”
CASSANDRA
“Hey, what about your daughter ? I don’t know her name, sorry.”
“Cassandra.”
“Aah, that’s a cute name. Well, is she more well behaved than your boys then ? Girls are often calmer and more mature.”
You burst out laughing at Ivy’s statements. Yes, that is true that Cassandra matured faster than her brothers. But oh boy, “calmer” ? Cass ? Well. You could see why some people thought that, after all, she didn’t speak a lot. But ah, when she was upset with you or Bruce ?
Cass was sneaky. A little salt in your coffee because you didn’t let her do something she really wanted to. Or hiding one of your shoe.
You knew when she wasn’t happy with one of your decision. She’d stare at you from one side of the room, and whenever you’d look at her she’d turn her head away, nose up in the air, pretending you don’t exist.
It didn’t happen often, to be fair. Most of the time she’d try to view things from your perspective, and understand your decision. But sometimes..Sometimes…Well, she was a teenager.
Kids didn’t always understand their parents’ decisions, especially regarding their lives. Sometimes, it feels like they just don’t get you and are trying to control you, even if they’re not. Being a teen is tough. Being a vigilante teen is tougher. Getting frustrated was normal.
But Cassandra had trouble expressing herself with words. She spoke nowadays, but she didn’t always find the right words when it came to explaining her feelings. So she’d do other things, to let you understand.
Just like how she said “I love you” in millions different little ways that were her own…She also was able to say : “I’m annoyed with you” very well.
It was by her action, and not her words, that she truly could be a brat. The way she’d ignore you, or be a pain on purpose.
“Once, I told her she couldn’t go with Jason to I-don’t-even-remember-where-but-it-was-definitely-not-a-place-for-her, and for a week she didn’t even look at me. She made a spectacle of talking lots to her brothers, more than usual, and wouldn’t utter a word to me. Gotta admit, it hurts a bit. But I guess ya know, kids don’t always realize that. She apologized later on, but that’s not the question. Sometimes you just don’t see you’re hurting the person.”
“That’s true. I know that all too well…”
Harley says, looking at Ivy and then down. Ivy puts her hand on her shoulder, and squeeze it, and it’s quite an adorable sight to see.
It feels like them too, have their own family. It sort of reminds you of Bruce and you, the early years, to be honest.
“You know, my daughter, Cass, I can’t be mad at her in those moments. I too was a frustrated teenager who did things to my parents, my brothers, I still regret to this day. I wish I could go back and not be a little shit, ya know ? I understand her. I understand sometimes, you have to lash out. And honestly, what she does is nothing compared to what I already did…Everyone needs to vent. We’re not perfect. And..No matter how big our mistake, we all deserve redemption.”
They know you’re talking about them now, and not about your daughter. Although they can’t know that Cass’ had been force as a child to be a weapon, and did things she dearly regrets.
And that’s it. That’s why you find yourself able to “forgive” Harley and Ivy for their past actions. Obviously, they already changed quite a bit. But also…Jason, Cass, and Damian…They all did things they regret. They all went through so much, and have been on the “dark side”.
They deserved redemption. To be given a chance.
Jason, Cass…And Damian.
Your little Damian, a paragon of what the word “redemption” means.
DAMIAN
Damian is not a brat in the way you think he’s a brat.
Sure, if you don’t know him he can appear too sure of himself, full of himself even. Someone who looks down on people. But…people who think that just don’t know him very well.
No. Damian was only truly an actual brat when it was related to animals.
“One time, I said “no we can’t take another cat my little buddy”, because like, we already had like, 17 cats roaming around the mansion and the gardens, as Damian has a tendency to just bring in any strays he finds. You know what he did ? He went to a near puddle. Like a very, very muddy puddle…And he just started to jump in it, and roll in it, until I said ok, we can take another cat in…Brat.”
“You caved ?”
“I caved. He was so dirty !”
“Hahaha, that’s an hilarious thing to think about really.”
“Not the worst occurrence of this. Once, he wanted to free the tigers at Gotham zoo because he thought their enclosure wasn’t good enough. I told him he couldn’t do that, of course, and I was going to add that we’d look into it but…Next thing I know, he tells me : “Watch me”, and disappears in the crowd. I was like : “WELL I CAN’T WATCH YOU IF YOU JUST GO OFF LIKE THAT !!”. First, it’s already scary when you loose your kid in a crow, even if granted, if anyone tried to kidnap Damian, they’d be the one in trouble. But still. And second, we were just talking about how he wanted to set some tigers free !! Fast forward not even fifteen minutes of me frantically looking everywhere while calling Bruce on the phone and trying to explain the situation, I see Damian, wearing his Robin costume, mounted on one of the tiger, and leading the other two away out of the zoo…”
“What the hell ?? What happened next ??” Harley was absolutely entranced in your story. You saw her nodding away as she was definitely agreeing that those tigers needed to be free…And you sort of recall her having hyenas as pets ?
“Well, I get home ok ? Because I know that boy brought those tigers to our garden, just like he does with all those stray cats. And yes, I come home and here he is, eating cookies and drinking milk, saying the tigers need a real home, as said tigers are chilling in our garden ???”
“What did you do with the tigers ??”
“Damian convinced us to start a case against Gotham zoo and…Turned out he was right, there was some malpractice. The tigers were relocated in a reserve of one of our friend. And Gotham zoo was entirely remade by one of the Wayne Foundation. So I guess it ended well.”
“That kid isn’t a brat, he’s an icon.”
“Yes well, he didn’t listen to me at all.”
“But he saved those tigers. And a few other animals.”
“Harleyyyy ! That’s not the point !”
“Did you punish him ?”
Small silence. You look at them. They look at you. Then you turn away and say :
“Of course I didn’t, it was epic.”
Cue some laughter, of course. Aaah. It was HARD to raise children, especially when they were such smartasses !
“But honestly, Damian is a sweet child. He does definitely totally ignore his father sometimes, but he always listens to me. The only times he doesn’t, and act like a proper brat, is when animals are involved. I’m not even going to tell you the time he almost brought home a dragon from Apokolips…”
“What ?? You have to tell us now !”
“Oh, You want me to tell you ? Alright then, well see, we were on…”
There were dozens and dozens of stories about Damian acting like a “brat” and trying to convince you to bring more pets (with you rarely winning the arguments, because he’d throw genuine tantrum acting like the 10 years old he actually was).
You loved those stories. Of course, you’d get frustrated that your son wouldn’t listen…But it was proof he was still just a little kid. Your little kid.
Talking about him to Harley and Ivy was oddly nice, as if they’d been your friends since forever. They didn’t invalidate you, they didn’t tell you you were a bad mother for succumbing to your kids’ tantrums sometimes (to be fair, your kids knew not to push you too much either, your glares were rather effective), and they were eagerly listening.
It was nice, to see someone actually interested in the mundane side of your life. Granted, stealing tigers from a zoo wasn’t THAT mundane, but ah, your children acting out sometimes…It was normal.
And it felt nice. As odd as it might sound.
DUKE
Duke was already 15, when he came to live with your family. And his parents were still alive, as well, which made the dynamic between you and him different. He was distant, at first, reminding you every chance he got that he’d leave as soon as his parents would feel better.
And those few first weeks, when he was lost and unsure he even wanted to stay with you at the Manor…It wasn't “bratty behavior”. Just like Dick who missed his parents, or Jason who was afraid you’d leave him, he would act out sometimes. Out of pain. Out of frustration at not understanding his own feelings, and being so full of conflicted ones.
On one hand, you gave him a home and made it so that he wouldn’t be lost in the system. On the other, he wantedhis mom and dad.
Yes. At first, it was tough. But as time went on, and with your care, and making him understand that it was ok to be angry…He truly opened up.
His behavior the first few days, wasn’t “bratty”. It was a behavior born from trauma and pain, and being scared.
“He did got me arrested once though, I admit that day I wasn’t too happy and might’ve thought he was a brat…”
“He did what ?”
Both Harley and Ivy were absolutely glued to your stories, and you definitely had a way to tell them. To keep them on edge, wondering what would come next. Like right now. What did Duke did, that got you arrested ?
“Well. He pretended I kidnapped him. I didn’t have the official papers that said he was our ward with me, and that little one is an amazing actor. I got put behind bars, and then they called social services. The mix up was cleared up fast, as Bruce arrived. But ya know, it wasn’t a good experience. If only to witness the utter incompetence of Gotham’s police.”
“Tell me about it, they never even once caught us. Not without Batman’s assistance of course.”
“That’s a wild story honestly…What did Duke do, after that ? What did you do ?”
“Honestly ? It was obvious he felt extremely bad about what he did. When Bruce asked him why he did it, he answered that he didn’t even know. And we believed him. Sometimes, when you’re in too much pain, you do things without really knowing why. After that, actually, things greatly improved. He talked to us. And he never once did anything like that again.”
Duke wasn’t a brat at all. Well, none of your kids were. But Duke, even with his own parents, was always a calm obedient kid. With a normal life…
The times he acted out with you, you knew it was a cry for help. And you knew you guys put that new life on him. You, and what the Joker did to his parents. Everything always lead back to the Joker…
“You have a nice family.”
“Thank you for telling us all that.”
“No problemo.”
“You managed to make me simultaneously want, and not want kids !”
“Aaah, you just summarized the life of a parent haha !”
Who would’ve thought ? Who would’ve thought that one day, you’d be sitting comfortably in an armchair in one of Gotham’s most famous “villain’s” lair ? They had a nice loft, to be honest. You had no idea where it was, but you heard the sea not far so probably somewhere in East Gotham.
This was nice. It was odd because you were talking to Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, but it was nice. To talk about your children, and how sometimes…they did act like children.
It was easy to forget, even for you, that they were just kids. So this was nice. A nice reminder, that them acting like brats is actually good.
Everyone needs to vent their emotions, ya know ?
Plus, there is so many good moments with them… (A/N : aka, literally all my stories with the Batfam haha)
“I envy your family a bit.”
“You do ?”
“Yes. When Batman came to ask us for help, I saw it. And I see it now too, as you tell us those stories. You guys aren’t perfect, but you really do love each others very much.”
“Ah, yet another great summary made by Harley Quinn…”
“Well you know, I was a psychiatrist after all.”
You smile gently at her, wondering if maybe one day, she’ll tell you her story. How come she ended up under Joker’s manipulation ? What happened to her, and what were her aspirations ?
“To be honest I admire you, I don’t think I could handle someone like Batman on a daily basis !”
“Hahahahaha, if I had a dollar every time someone told me that ! But hey, it’s cause nobody quite knows him like I do…Which makes me think, wanna hear one last story ?”
“Of course !”
BRUCE
“You know what’s funny ? I just thought of it right now. The brattiest of them all isn’t even one of the kids. It’s Bruce. Man. He can be SUCH a brat !”
You say, rising up slightly in your seat. Ivy chuckles and says :
“Oh I believe that.”
“He can be so broody for no reasons.”
Both of your new girl friends nod. They definitely noticed he brooded a lot. And never smiled. And he had a bad tendency of telling them to “stop” doing something when they were having such fun…
“Like, once, I forgot to kiss him goodbye before work ok ? Well he pouted all day about it. Our two years old son Thomas had the same reaction, when I got home he was all like : “Mommy left with not kissy !” except, you know…He’s two.”
“Wait, I wasn’t expecting that.” Ivy says, while Harley add : “I thought you were going to talk about how cold, harsh and all he was.”
“Oh, he was in the beginning, it didn’t last that long…you know, everyone needs someone to be themselves with. He’s not cold with me at all. Really, no, more like…Well. He can be a brat, actually. Ok, there that one time I lost too much at Uno and threatened to divorce him, but he can be much worst !”
“U-Uno ?”
“Yes. Long story. Not worth mentioning, right now we’re talking about how BRUCE is a brat. You know, he pouts soooo easily. Not in public, but when it’s just the two of us. Oh boy. He’s also super jealous. But that’s another story. You know, he does get moody when he doesn’t get his way ? Like he wants to watch this movie, but we all wanna watch something else ? Well boom, he acts like a brat. This kind of thing you know ?”
“Batman is…a brat ?”
“Ah yes ! And you should listen to Alfred’s stories of him as a child. An actual genuine brat !”
You’re about to keep going with your stories, when you realize both Ivy and Harley look at you with their mouth open, as if their brain just melted. And…Well, you understand. After all, it must’ve been quite a surprise, for them to learn that the big bad bat was a brat.
Come to think of it, yeah, you’re probably the only one in the world that would call The Batman, a “brat”. Batbrat. Haha.
(A/N : If you have no idea who Thomas is, he appears in those stories : . Not writing a part with him because it was really getting too long, but imagine some toddler shenanigans haha).
Always here
Jason is the first to arrive at Harley and Ivy’s hideout. He rushes to you immediately, asking if you’re alright.
“Yes, didn’t even see that damn clown. Harley and Ivy picked me right up.”
“I’m glad.”
“Where are your brothers ? And your dad ?”
“Coming soon. They wrapped things up. We caught him, of course. He’s becoming sort of predictable, in his unpredictability. I just didn’t want to participate more, so I came to get you. We’re regrouping home.”
Relief.
It’s a relief to know this is already done. Although it’s almost suspicious, it went so fast…Oh well, you’ll think about it later. Maybe it’s true, that he became too predictable ? Your guts tell you he might’ve had an ulterior motive, but you ignore them. No. Not now. Now, it’s time to go home.
You don’t go home, of course, without telling goodbye to your new friends.
Your son waits for you a little further, eying both of them suspiciously. Especially as Harley takes a step towards you and says :
“Listen, I’ll go quick because I know your kiddo over there hate me but…Thank you. For telling us stories and reminding us we’re human, too. I hope our path will cross again.”
You nod. You hope so too, in a better situation than : “we’re protecting you from being killed by a maniac”, hopefully. You’re about to leave, when your son stops, and turns around, saying :
“I don’t hate you. The Joker used you, he mentally manipulated you and ruined your life. You’re not responsible for what happened to me. That doesn’t mean, by the way, that all your actions are forgiven. But it does explain and excuse some things…and everyone is allowed to have their redemption arc. I would know. Plus. Again. He gaslighted you for years, and manipulated you.”
His words shook Harley to her core. Except for Ivy, and maybe Bruce, nobody ever gave her a chance like that…Nobody…
You’re so proud. Oh. You’re so proud. You can’t even say anything, you hold him in your arms, and as you leave, you see Harley, crying in Ivy’s arms…
************
Home. And all together. In the end, this day was good for you. You got to vent about your kiddos, while underlining how amazing they truly are. You made new friends. You once again realized how much you loved your family…
It didn’t feel like a “Joker evasion” day. Usually, those were much more terrible, and ended terribly. But here you were. All home.
You did notice Bruce seemed a little worried, and you felt it in your guts once more. You were sure him too, felt Joker’s plan wasn’t entirely done…But ah, there was nothing to do right now.
So you took to distracting him, and making him enjoy this little moment right now, as you’re all in the mansion, together.
It’s movie night.
No vigilante duties, for anyone. It was already quite some work to catch the Joker, and usually after such a big arrest, Gotham was calm. Worst case scenario, Kate, Bruce’s cousin, was out as Batwoman. She’d take care of things, and call them for backup if need be.
Right now, it was movie night.
With all of your little brats.
Aaah.
Yes. They could be brats sometimes. Everybody had bad days, right ?
But they were your little brats.
And at the end of he day, they were always there for you. And vice versa.
Your precious beloved little brats.
EPILOGUE
A shadowy figure is looking at your family through the back windows, standing in the dark. You’re unaware of its presence of course, trusting your home is a safe haven. Because…Nobody really knows who you really are. And your house is surrounded by security created by your husband and son.
Someone able to bypass all your security, someone who filled your nightmares for years. Someone who wanted to make sure his suspicions were right.
“Aaaah. So they ARE the Waynes. Interesting. Thanks Harley for the valuable informations, although maybe you didn’t give it willingly. You and I will see each other again soon enough. We’ll all, see each others soon enough. A little…family reunion, if you will.”
Someone who isn’t done with your family…
The Joker.
To be continued ?
_________________________________________________
Well here. I really hope you like it, and that you are not disappointed with this new story, I know it might look a little fragmented and weird, I haven’t written in ages and it felt like I didn’t know how to anymore :/. I know there’s always expectations when someone doesn’t post for a while and then comes back so..Yes, I hope you like this story born in the spur of an inspiration. As usual, feedbacks and other reblogs are more than welcomed (and thank you for going that extra mile <3).
More stories to come soon, on which I’ve been working for a while ^^. More well thought out stories if you will, and longer things (including multi-chapters stuffs because I got hella carried away). Once again, I hope this didn’t disappoint you, and thank you for reading ^^.
Summary: You appreciate Harley’s excitement in everything she does, including you. But, after losing a few too many articles of clothing to her overzealous hands, you decide to teach her some delicacy.
A/N: This is 18+, not quite as dramatically as last week though! Please let me know what you think!
Harley had a naturally frenetic air about her; she would often carelessly hurl herself forwards in pursuit of some goal or another with an almost thoughtless abundance of chaotic energy. And, yet, she somehow always achieved what she set out to. The colourful chaos that exuded from her like some vibrant aura was, in a word, exciting. It was no secret, however, to you or to anyone else in Gotham that along the way things tended to get… broken.
You couldn’t say you often minded so much. The trail of colourful destruction she left in her wake so inextricably a part of her that it seemed to form an integral part of her unique charm. When it came to your carefully constructed wardrobe, however, your patience wore a little thinner.
Too often you had awoken after a spectacular night with Harley, one where the goal she hurled herself towards was undressing you as fast as she could, to find a blouse or bra ruined and discarded on the carpet. In the heat of the moment the sound of ripping fabric was almost sensual. The noise a clear indication of how desperate she was to touch your skin. As more and more of your clothes succumbed to her pulling and tearing, however, you realised you needed to take action.
Your plan would be almost horrendously unfair on Harley. Green was her favourite colour on you, she had never outright told you this fact, but you were in tune with her reactions enough to recognise the extra glint to her eye when you donned the hue. And, so, you had found the most delicate lingerie available in the colour, with the most complex system of intricate straps and clips that you had ever set eyes on. It had taken you so long to even get yourself into the lingerie that you had begun to worry that Harley would be home before you had entirely wrapped yourself up.
After finally slipping the last clip into place and tying the loose ribbon just beneath the swell of your breasts, you barely had time to position yourself alluringly upon the ratty sofa before she burst in.
You stood immediately, allowing her to get a full view of your figure as her voice that had begun a greeting died entirely in her throat. In lieu of a greeting, she let the door swing shut behind her; a grin rising on her lips as she took a step towards you. The question that left her was almost giggled; “Is it my birthday?”
Silently, you shook your head.
Quickly, her face shifted into a sudden and overwhelming panic. Eyebrows scrunching together, she grimaced as she asked her next question. “It’s… your birthday?”
As much as you tried to steel your expression you couldn’t quite cover the giggle that tried to escape you. Her face fell into relief at the sound and she almost beamed as you narrowed your eyes at her - recognising the nature of the game you were trying to play.
As slowly as you could manage, you moved to her. Impatience clearly pulled at her as her free hand reached out to you with an almost childish grabbing motion, her other hand still encumbered by groceries. Delicately, you placed your hand in hers. Immediately, she harshly tugged you but you planted your feet as best you could to resist the movement. You were… partiallysuccessful.
Harley was strong. Even with your adamant resistance you were sent stumbling a few inches closer to her. “Harley,” you began, as sternly as you could muster, “I’ve got something to show you.”’
Excitement shone in her vibrant eyes as she almost cackled with glee. Nodding brusquely, ponytails bouncing with the movement, she closed the gap between you. “Okay!” She agreed, indelicate hand already grabbing at the straps of your lingerie.
Recognising that Harley was quickly becoming distracted from what you were trying to achieve, not that she knew what that even was yet, you pulled back completely. Not only were you concerned that she would break your clothing already, you were worried her grabbing hands would distract you from your mission. With a foot of space between you, your mind cleared of hazy, languid thoughts. “C’mon,” you murmured, head jerking towards the bedroom.
You winced at the sound of the grocery bag smacking against the floor and paused to look back at it. If she had bought ice cream one of you would have to put it away before you went any further, and she always bought ice cream.
Anticipation focusing her usually scattered attention to her destination, she didn’t notice your pause and barrelled straight into you. Or, perhaps, she did notice. The wicked grin you received when her hands gripped your upper arms to right you was entirely suspicious. She had caught you in the distracting trap of her arms.
Taking the opportunity presented to her, Harley pulled your smiling lips to hers and you fell into the kiss. The familiar comfort and excitement of her mouth melting against yours momentarily chased away your thoughts of ripped fabrics. The spark of her tongue swiping across your bottom lip, however, successfully pulled your mind back to your mission and you broke away.
“Isaid I gotta show you something,” you reiterated strictly. Tutting at her playfully, you pulled her into the bedroom.
Her face stuck in an odd expression, previous smile twitching slightly as her eyes darted across the fabric strewn over the bed. You had laid out, very neatly and carefully, all the clothes you had been forced to part with after she had torn into them. You moved from her to sit on the bed, beside what used to be your favourite blouse, and ran a delicate hand over the silken fabric. “This was such a pretty shirt,” you told her wistfully, pinching the flowery fabric between two fingers as you held its tattered remains up for her to see, “it used to be my favourite.”
“I’ll get you another one!” She exclaimed, full of hopeful enthusiasm.
Catching her darting gaze, you shook your head. “Nope,” you rose to your feet, letting the torn fabric fall forlornly back to the bed. “You are going to practice unwrapping me,” excited hands immediately reached for you but were swiftly stalled by your hands on her wrists, “properly.” You enunciated the word, emphasising it’s importance. “If you rip or tear anything - even accidentally- we stop.”
You could see the conflict in her eyes. There was an excitement sparkling within them at the thought of playing such a high stakes game with you but it was dampened by a concern that she would fail. The excitement, unsurprisingly, won out. A cackle escaping her, she lifted you easily to perch you on the bed. “Easy-peasy, sugar.” The grin she shot you was full of mischief and you felt your own excitement rise; you only hoped she could stop herself from ripping anything.
To begin with, she kissed you. Her mouth insistent and wonderfully harsh on yours even as her hands attempted unpracticed delicacy. In an effort to test her resolve, how much she really wanted to win this game, you nipped her bottom lip and used the gasp she gave as an excuse to slip your tongue into her mouth. Her fingers twisted in the fabric of your lingerie, the straps pulling harshly against your skin with her force and you were sure the fabric were about to snap. She relented at what seemed to be the very last moment, the fabric settling back against your skin unbroken but still fastened. An aggravated groan poured from her and she pulled away from your lips with a pout. “You’re playing dirty.”
You merely winked and giggled. “I know.”
The wiggle of her lips gave away her desire to laugh with you but she maintained an impressive level of faux agitation. “No kissing,” she warned you sternly, a finger wagging at you as though she were scolding you.
You nodded, laying back and stretching. Twisting your body this way and that, you raised your arms over your head and moaned with the movement. Harley seemed equal measures unimpressed with your pointed show and entirely entranced by the motion of your body. Hands on her hips, an almost business like manner overtaking her, she nodded to herself. You could swear you heard her mutter “you got this, Harley” to herself before she dove back into her attempts at unwrapping you.
She did much better than you had anticipated and you were thrilled by it. A few minutes of grumbling and fumbling later she had managed to loosen the straps enough to hook her fingers underneath. You still were not free but it was hard to care when she victoriously moved a strip of fabric to the side and dipped her mouth onto your clit.
Harley was a giver. It had surprised you the first time you had slept with her, the pure excitement and pleasure she drew from pleasing you, but this was a more selfish act than it seemed. In the few coherent thoughts you were able to string together, as her tongue flattened and licked over your heat before returning to circle around your clit, you recognised what she was doing. Her hope was to drive you so far into pleasure that your mind wandered away from the goal of this exercise and allowed her to undress you however she wanted. Determination filled you even as your pleasure built to meet it.
Letting the breathy whines that rose in your throat bathe the room in scandalous noise, you felt your back arch as she dipped a finger inside of you whilst her mouth sucked at your clit. Her free hand smoothed over your figure, reaching up blindly to pull your breasts free but became insistent when they were met with more fabric and straps. The hand tugged desperately, the straps digging into the tender flesh of your breasts in a way that only pushed you closer to the edge, but the fabric itself remained in place covering you.
Her groan of aggravation vibrated through you, the sensation thrilling and just enough to tip you entirely into your orgasm. The rip of fabric was barely audible over the wanton sounds you freely produced. Your back arched with the overwhelming sensations, hands moving down to grip Harley’s hair as she remained in place; lapping up the physical evidence of your pleasure.
Slowly, you came down. A happy tiredness weighed you down; the weighted weightlessness of your limbs a juxtaposition that only ever seemed to occur after such a blinding orgasm. Blinking dumbly up to the speckled ceiling for a few moments, you whimpered and whined when Harley pulled away.
Regaining some control of yourself, you glanced down to her sheepish expression. Your voice was hoarse as you spoke, the previous moans having stolen the volume, but Harley still got the message. “I heard that.”
In response, she held up a torn piece of fabric - the pattern matching the lingerie now only half covering you. She tried for a charming response; smirking at you wickedly in the way she knew you liked and cocking a brow. “Oops.”
