AKI, she/hers . . . i write sometimes. personal journal + (n)sfw content

ps… continuation of this post. fem! reader w/ harley as a human. possibly ooc and not proofread. nsfw at the end.

thinking about . . . his sleepy face as he lazily brushes his teeth in your tiny shared bathroom in the morning next to you. his eyes are blinking owlishly, his hair messy and curled against his sleep flushed face. he pinches your forearm when he catches you staring at him a little too hard— but he knows and you maybe know it, it’s a sight not many get the pleasure of seeing(& living)

thinking about . . . all the emails he drafts to you; it’s a small reprieve when work is tedious and frustrating, airing how much bearable it would be if you were there to keep him company. he solemn sends it, but after his disappearance from human society, he wishes there was some things he said more out loud.

think about . . . how he calls you ‘my wife’, emphasis on the my part. he prides himself on not being the jealous type but something ticks him off when one of his colleagues manages to make you laugh a little too hard. “what exactly is so amusing?”

thinking about . . . his scoff when it’s cold outside and your ill fitted clothes are doing little to protect you from the weather. “if i recall correctly i did warn you for this,” he flicks your forehead but he has already peeled off his coat and pressed it over your shoulders. the sleeves and collar run a little big on your frame, your fingers peeking from beneath the cuffs. it’s doesn’t miss on him how they twitch. “give me your hand,” he sighs, slipping his fingers through to hold it. predictably it’s cold and he tightens his grip just a tiny bit. “if you get sick i will have to deal with it and i will not miss work over this.”

ps… fem!reader w/ harley as a human still. maybe ooc i wrote this instead of sleeping(not proofread). smut at the end. this man has occupied my thoughts for too long.

thinking about . . . how he would personally remove your jewelry every night, standing behind you so close you can almost feel his heartbeat through his shirt. he traces the skin with his fingers teasingly slowly, cold and practiced from holding a scalpel. the tips of his thumbs graze the back of your scalp as he parts your hair to the side. when he sees your nape exposed he can’t help but brush his lips there not bothering to hide his grin when you shiver.

thinking about . . . him slipping his hands beneath your sleeping shirt when you're bundled in his sheets and he can’t sleep. he spreads his palms wide around your ribcage, trying to drink as much of you in. mentally, he maps out where all your bones and tissues would be.

thinking about . . . how he shows moments of softness in the small things. only when he’s with you does he allow a frustrated sigh, pulling off his glasses to rub at his tired eyes. sometimes, sometimes you catch him staring at you(he doesn’t look away, even if you look him dead in the eye. when you yield and look away first, the corners of his eyes crinkle and he mutters a small “i win.”)

thinking about . . . how he has you sit on his lap when he’s dealing with the bureaucratic activities part of his work. one hand is typing or writing without fail but his other sneaks to sometimes to hold you in some way. you sometimes fall asleep and wake up in a new room, the warmth of a freshly washed comforter keeping you company(harley is predictably still working, his side of the bed waning his presence. it’s only in the dead of night that you feel a shift in weight)

thinking about . . . sticky notes he places around when you have important deadlines coming up(it goes without saying, he knows your whole routine from when you wake up to when you go to sleep). they are curt and straight to the point but then you notice the cup of brewed coffee or your required notes neatly stacked next to it.

thinking about . . . how in public you call him dr. sawyer or just the doctor for reputation sake. but sometimes you let a harley slip and his jaw tenses, his eyes blinking for a second and two. he would never admit it out loud but he’s very much addicted to his name coming from your mouth. “say that again, i did not hear you so well the first time.”

nsfw