F/o who forces themselves on you, they can’t help it. They need you, you don’t understand how you make them feel. They know you don’t like it, they push your hair out of your face so your tears don’t ruin it. They kiss your face so softly. “You look so pretty.” They tell you over and over. Trying to make everything feel better, even as they feel the pleasure building. “So pretty all for me.”
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Description: A pleasant stroll through the streets of Gotham ends in a surprise.
Word Count: 634
Trigger Warnings: None
Dates with Harley were spontaneous. Sometimes they were crazy adventures and wacky hijinks. Fighting demons and taking down international spy organizations. Other times, like this one, dates were something simple like walks in the park or a fancy dinner.
This time they were simply strolling through Gotham, arms linked together talking about whatever came to mind.
“So how’s everybody?” Harley asked as her eyes flitted over towards a looming cathedral.
“Loki is very much enjoying being King of Khora and Wade is causing chaos and destruction in his own universe. So they’re doing great! How’s Pam?”
“She’s in Arkham, I’d get her out, but you know ‘bout her Thing.”
Pam had a Thing about being rescued. She hated it. She’d prefer to spend months in Arkham and escape herself than have Harley or Sinclaire swoop in and get her out. So they respected that and didn’t try.
Times like this Sinclaire is struck with how different every one of her partners were. And how a lot of their personalities could be discerned by how they treated their metamours. Loki was fine with Sinclaire taking other lovers, he just preferred that they didn’t talk about it openly. Wade was fine with talking about them, but didn’t bring them up (and when he did it was solely for comedic purposes). Pam was indifferent towards everyone except Harley, and Harley was the only one that actively asked about Sinclaire’s other partners.
No matter who they were with, Sinclaire was glad for the time away from their responsibilities.
It was Sinlcaire’s day off from being the Supreme Sovereign of Khora, a pocket dimension they had created to house creatures who were often displaced and persecuted in their own homeworlds. Today they left everything in Loki’s and their senate’s capable hands. And Harley had some free time of her own too.
“As long as I don’t run amuck Batsy has given me one week of freedom before I go back to the slammer,” Harley held up her hand to show a small black ring, which was upstaged by all the other bling Harley was wearing, “Plus, I gotta wear this tracking device.”
“You convinced Batman to give you one week of freedom?” Sinclaire asked, dumb-founded that the Big Bad Bat would ever agree to something like that.
“Well, more like I convinced Catwoman to convince Batman, but semantics,” Harley shrugged.
“What should we do now that you're free for a week? I’m sure Loki can handle Khora for a week,” Sinclaire smiled at the thought. In fact, they were certain that he’d be most agreeable to being in charge of Khora for an entire week.
Almost by chance, the sound of cheering pulled the couple's attention towards the cathedral. Two women in white ball gowns ran to a horse-drawn carriage while getting pelted with rice by the cheering crowd. The brides waved at the crowd before riding off into the sunset (literally).
Sinclaire could almost hear the lightbulb go off in Harley’s head.
“Let’s get married!”
“Like, right now?”
“Yup!” Harley grabbed Sinclaire’s hand and started tugging, presumably to a courthouse.
“Wait a minute what about our friends? I mean, of course I’ll marry you but we should have a proper ceremony,” Sinclaire reasoned.
Harley’s expression turned contemplative, turning things over in her head before finally speaking, “One week. In exactly one week you’ll be Sinclaire Laufeyson-Quinzel.”
“You know that implies that you married Loki and decided to hyphenate your name. And that I’m you kid,” Sinclaire pointed out, a small smirk tugging on the corner of their mouth.
“Who cares what it implies? Sinclaire Laufeyson-Quinzel has a nice ring to it,” Harley dismissed with a wave of the hand.
“That it does,” Sinclaire softly agreed. “Well then. Come along Q, we have a wedding to plan!”
