Tiger.Lily
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I found this whilst perusing the interwebs in search of my favorite couple...plus tickling. I DID NOT WRITE THIS. There is a Batman kinky fanfiction request page on LiveJournal. An anon member requested a Harley/Joker tickling fic, and another anonymous person responded with this awesome short story.
I loved it, and found it to be incredibly fucking hot. I'm hoping you will, too. Kudos to you, anon!
“Mister J.”
The Joker slowly woke to pressure dipping his mattress, a voice purring his name. Through barely-cracked-open eyelids he can see the light outside is still pale and cold.
“Mister Jaaayy.” And again. What time was it, anyway?
“Harley…” he tried to infuse his voice with as much menace as was available at…whatever time it was. Propping himself up on his elbows, the Joker glares down at the woman currently crawling up his bed. In return, she smiled at him, sticking her bottom in the air and stretching like a happy cat.
“Morning, Mister J.” Harley crawled up further, straddling him. “I was up early and I thought,” she leans forward, down, lets her body drag along his, “we could play a little.”
“Play?” The Joker smiles at her, cocks his head. He’s not wearing any makeup. “Harl, you know I don’t like it,” his hand darts out from under the blanket and grabs her face, pulling it in close, “when you surprise me like this. I don’t even have my face on.” His grin widens. The fear that used to shock into her eyes whenever he’d threaten her was hardly there anymore, replaced by a little spark of madness. He’d put that there.
“Aw, Mister J,” Harley tries to smile around the hand squishing her face. “Don’t talk like that.” She lowers her hips to grind against his, her hands sliding up his torso. Laughing, the Joker bucks, trying to throw Harley off, and her hands jar up his sides, tucking under his arms.
Underneath her, Harley feels his body jerk, watches his expression twitch, just a little. “Hmmm?” she purrs, and flutters her fingers. The Joker twists, arching away as helpless laughter escapes him. He lets go of her face and his arms come up, obeying a defense instinct.
After a moment, she stops, and watches him come down. “Ticklish, huh?”
Having regained most of his control, the Joker gives her a warning look. “Harl,” he growls, but her hands are suddenly spidering up his ribs and he can’t help it, he laughs, body attempting to curl up. Harley keeps going, somehow finding all his vulnerable spots, until he was gasping and wet-eyed, laughter down to nothing more than breathless huffs.
She stopped for a moment. He’s panting and still giggling, one slightly unsteady hand coming up to drag across his eyes. “You’re gonna pay for this,” he drawls, sounding half dazed.
“Is that so?” Harley says. “Because I think you might be enjoyin’ it.” She slides her thigh up between his to grind against the erection she’d felt earlier when he was writhing against her.
Mouth opening in a gasp, the Joker rocks his hips against her before he can help himself. Now that Harley knew this particular fact about him, she’d probably never let it go, but at the moment, he didn’t really care. Her hands slide down beneath the sheets to find a particularly vulnerable spot behind his knee and he squirms, laughing, grinding desperately against her.
When he comes, Harley watches his head tilt back against the pillows, neck tightening, eyes slamming shut. His moans are broken up by laughter; he shakes and shakes and it seems to go on for a long time.
Finally, when his breathing calms, the Joker rolls his head forward to look at her, licking his lips. “Get off me,” he says, gesturing, “I need a shower.”
“Sure, Mister J.,” Harley says. She climbs off, smiling widely in contentment, and skips back down the hall to her own room.
I loved it, and found it to be incredibly fucking hot. I'm hoping you will, too. Kudos to you, anon!
“Mister J.”
The Joker slowly woke to pressure dipping his mattress, a voice purring his name. Through barely-cracked-open eyelids he can see the light outside is still pale and cold.
“Mister Jaaayy.” And again. What time was it, anyway?
“Harley…” he tried to infuse his voice with as much menace as was available at…whatever time it was. Propping himself up on his elbows, the Joker glares down at the woman currently crawling up his bed. In return, she smiled at him, sticking her bottom in the air and stretching like a happy cat.
“Morning, Mister J.” Harley crawled up further, straddling him. “I was up early and I thought,” she leans forward, down, lets her body drag along his, “we could play a little.”
“Play?” The Joker smiles at her, cocks his head. He’s not wearing any makeup. “Harl, you know I don’t like it,” his hand darts out from under the blanket and grabs her face, pulling it in close, “when you surprise me like this. I don’t even have my face on.” His grin widens. The fear that used to shock into her eyes whenever he’d threaten her was hardly there anymore, replaced by a little spark of madness. He’d put that there.
“Aw, Mister J,” Harley tries to smile around the hand squishing her face. “Don’t talk like that.” She lowers her hips to grind against his, her hands sliding up his torso. Laughing, the Joker bucks, trying to throw Harley off, and her hands jar up his sides, tucking under his arms.
Underneath her, Harley feels his body jerk, watches his expression twitch, just a little. “Hmmm?” she purrs, and flutters her fingers. The Joker twists, arching away as helpless laughter escapes him. He lets go of her face and his arms come up, obeying a defense instinct.
After a moment, she stops, and watches him come down. “Ticklish, huh?”
Having regained most of his control, the Joker gives her a warning look. “Harl,” he growls, but her hands are suddenly spidering up his ribs and he can’t help it, he laughs, body attempting to curl up. Harley keeps going, somehow finding all his vulnerable spots, until he was gasping and wet-eyed, laughter down to nothing more than breathless huffs.
She stopped for a moment. He’s panting and still giggling, one slightly unsteady hand coming up to drag across his eyes. “You’re gonna pay for this,” he drawls, sounding half dazed.
“Is that so?” Harley says. “Because I think you might be enjoyin’ it.” She slides her thigh up between his to grind against the erection she’d felt earlier when he was writhing against her.
Mouth opening in a gasp, the Joker rocks his hips against her before he can help himself. Now that Harley knew this particular fact about him, she’d probably never let it go, but at the moment, he didn’t really care. Her hands slide down beneath the sheets to find a particularly vulnerable spot behind his knee and he squirms, laughing, grinding desperately against her.
When he comes, Harley watches his head tilt back against the pillows, neck tightening, eyes slamming shut. His moans are broken up by laughter; he shakes and shakes and it seems to go on for a long time.
Finally, when his breathing calms, the Joker rolls his head forward to look at her, licking his lips. “Get off me,” he says, gesturing, “I need a shower.”
“Sure, Mister J.,” Harley says. She climbs off, smiling widely in contentment, and skips back down the hall to her own room.
