#harleyflag

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Harley almost always wants sex after she has nightmares—and at first Rick hadn’t understood why. She’d bashfully explained that she finds sex healing and it’s how she feels closest to him. After that it’s been easy to indulge her every whim.

“Shh, Harls, I got you, you’re safe,” he murmurs in her ear as her heartbeat gradually slows down. He hugs her tightly and kisses her hair, letting her know he’s right there and not going anywhere.

It’s not surprising when she asks for a kiss, which quickly leads to more.

His kisses move downward as he slides a hand up her shirt to caress her stomach. His fingers pay extra attention to that god awful brand that Joker had given her. He still wants to shoot that bastard right between the eyes.

She gasps and arches her back into the contact. He absolutely despises the term “making love” but he can’t help but admit that it certainly describes what’s happening currently. This isn’t down and dirty fucking. It’s intimate, and soft, and healing—for both of them if he’s being honest.

He slips her shirt over her head and then starts pressing kisses down her chest—and then lower. He pauses when he gets to the waistband of her panties. “Still with me, Harls?” he asks, with a kiss to her stomach.

She nods frantically. “Keep goin’! Please!”

He slips her panties down her legs and proceeds to trail kisses up her legs, giving her inner thigh a little nip that has her gasping. He can’t help but smirk.

He moans at the first taste of her on his tongue and revels in the gasp she lets out at the sensation. He quickly gets to work making her come on his tongue—which isn’t hard to accomplish.

He’s about to try two for two when she’s yanking on his hair. He takes the hint and kisses his way back up to her mouth. She moans at the taste of herself on his lips.

“Need ya inside of me, right the fuck now,” she pants in his ear—and he happily obliges.

He manages to make her come twice on his cock before he lets himself tumble over the edge with her. He makes a move to roll off of her so he doesn’t crush her but she clamps her arms and legs around him tightly—signaling that she wants what she’s dubbed “weighted blanket cuddles”.

He carefully presses her into the mattress with his full weight and she sighs. She absolutely adores weighted blanket cuddles. He’s asked her before if she can even breathe when he’s laying on top of her like this and her response had been a cheerful, “Nope, not really! But don’t ya dare stop!”

He’s finding that it’s very difficult to deny her of anything. He’ll follow her anywhere and do whatever he possibly can to keep her smiling.

She scratches at his scalp gently as her breathing evens out. He leans into the contact and kisses her collarbone.

Eventually he does move but he makes sure to keep holding her as he does, so she ends up right on top of him—right where she wants to be.

“Think you can sleep now, Harls?”

“Yeah,” she sighs contently. “I love ya, baby.”

“I love you too, Harls,” he replies with a kiss to the top of her head. “Get some sleep.”

The nightmare doesn’t come back.

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Harley has a hard time keeping her hands to herself whenever she sees Rick without a shirt on. She can’t help it—she has a thing for tattoos.

She stumbles into the kitchen around ten to see him already busy making himself coffee. All he’s wearing is a pair of plaid pajama pants—leaving his back and gorgeous arms on full display.

She sneaks up behind him and wraps her arms around his torso—rolling up on her toes so she can playfully bite his shoulder. He chuckles and grabs her hand. “Mornin’, Harls.”

He turns around to face her and leans down to give her a gentle kiss. She quickly deepens it. She really can’t help it—she pretty much wants him 24/7. Luckily the feeling is mutual.

He turns them around to hoist her onto the counter without breaking the kiss. She wraps her legs around him and gasps as his kisses move downward. He playfully nips at that spot that always drives her insane as his hand slides under her shirt to caress her stomach. She’s come a long way since the first time they did something like this. Her Joker scars are still a sore spot but she no longer gets hung up on Rick seeing them.

She tilts her head to give him a better angle as his hand moves up to grasp her breast.

“Want some coffee?” he asks, already knowing what her answer is.

“Maybe later. Right now I need ya to fuck me,” she manages to get out.

“Yes ma’am,” he responds, moving his hands to the waistband of her underwear so he can peel them off of her.

He doesn’t fuck her on the kitchen counter though. Instead, he makes sure he has a good grip on her before carrying her to the living room. He manages to get to the couch without dropping her or tripping over the coffee table. She crashes her lips back into his as her hands fumble with the waistband of his pants. He moans as she grabs his cock and she revels in it—the feeling of having control over him like this is addicting.

She manages to pull him free and wastes no time in sinking down onto his cock with a moan. He grabs her hips hard enough to leave bruises and guides her movements—and it’s not long before they’re careening over the edge together.

She collapses into him—both of them breathing hard. He strokes her back gently as they slowly pull themselves together again. Once she feels coherent enough to speak she picks her head up and tells him, “Mornin’, baby!”

He chuckles and kisses her forehead. “Ready for that coffee now?”

“And waffles!”

She reluctantly gets off his lap and lets him lead her back into the kitchen. He gets to work getting all the ingredients for waffles out while pouring coffee and milk into her favorite mug. She hops up onto the counter and watches him happily as she sips her coffee—he makes it just right every time.

She can’t enough of the sheer domesticity of her life now. Before Rick the idea of that felt unattainable. It was certainly never something Joker could’ve given her.

“I can feel you starin’ at me, Harls.” Rick comments, as he mixes the waffle batter.

“Can ya blame me?” she teases back.

He doesn’t respond verbally but she sees the small smile on his face.

“I just really really love ya,” she tells him.

He pauses what he’s doing and turns to face her, stepping in between her legs to get as close as possible. “Love you too, Harls.”

Her heart skips a beat whenever she hears him say that. She’s the luckiest gal in the world. She feels safe and legitimately happy for the first time in her life and she can’t get enough of that feeling.

She wraps her arms and legs around him tightly and just revels in the feeling of being wrapped up in his presence.

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Sometimes they don’t even make it to the bedroom. Sometimes after a night out they’re a little drunk, a lot horny, and very very in love. And like most things you love, you surround yourself with them, or… pin them to the wall.

Harley pounces on him the second they make it through the door—legs going around his waist. He presses her against the nearest wall and nips at her throat as his hands fumble with the waistband of her shorts. She whines as his hand slips into her underwear to graze against her clit and he moans against her neck when he feels just how wet she is.

“Fuck me!” she pants in his ear. “Please!”

His hand reluctantly retreats and he sets her down so he can get her out of her shorts and panties as quickly as possible. She yanks his shirt off and he groans at the feeling of her nails against his chest.

He lifts her back up and lines them up before thrusting into her wet heat. Both of them moan at the sensation.

He stills for a moment to let her adjust but she’s quickly urging him to move—and he happily complies.

His hand slips down her chest to the bundle of nerves between her legs and she bites his lip—hard—to suppress the scream she wants to let out—the last thing they need is another noise complaint.

It’s not long before she’s coming on his cock and he’s quick to fall right after her.

She’s completely boneless and he grips her tighter to make sure she doesn’t fall.

“Have I told ya lately that I love ya,” she manages to get out as she gets her breathing under control.

He grins. “Does this morning count?”

He pulls out of her reluctantly and makes a move to set her back down but she clamps her legs and arms around him tighter in response. He gets the hint and makes sure he has a good grip on her before walking them to the bedroom.

He sets her down on the bed gently and pulls her shirt over her head. “Think you got one more in you, Harls?” he asks with a wicked grin.

She moans and lays back against the pillows as he crawls on top of her.

The next round is slow and gentle.

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Sometimes the desire hits at the most inconvenient times. Like when they’re in front of other people.

In a very rare occurrence, Rick is out and about with Harley, Ivy, and Selina. They’re in an old rundown dive bar that has the best deals on drinks and the girls are about three rounds of mixed drinks deep.

He lets his mind wander as he watches the baseball game playing on the bar TV and half listens to the women chitchatting—his role here is just to be Harley’s ride home honestly. He has his hand on her thigh—nothing sexual about it, that’s just where he puts his hand when they’re sitting next to each other.

He rubs soothing circles with his thumb and without thinking about it inches his hand higher. Harley doesn’t pause in her storytelling but does tense up under his touch. He makes a move to pull his hand back but she quickly claps her hand over his to keep him right where he is. Oh, now he gets it.

He takes a sip of his beer to hide his smirk and goes to work seeing what kind of reaction he can get out of her without anyone noticing.

“Um, I think we gotta go!” she announces loudly, just before his hand reaches her panties under her dress.

She says her goodbyes quickly and then yanks him out the door and to the truck parked down the street. Once they’re inside she grabs him by the shirt collar to pull him closer so she can crash her lips into his.

“You,” she says, “are a god damn menace.”

He chuckles. “Who was it that was encouraging me, sweetheart?”

“Take me home, right the fuck now, Colonel.”

They make it home in record time but don’t make it to their apartment. As soon as he has the truck in park, Harley is launching herself over the center console and into his lap. She kisses him hard and claws at his belt buckle. He laughs at the whine she lets out when she can’t figure it out.

He pushes her hands out of the way and undoes his own belt before she can scream in frustration and attract unwanted attention.

“This what you want, Harls?” he teases, as his hands crawl up her back.

She nods frantically and presses desperate kisses up his neck and to his ear. “Fuck me, please!”

“Well since you asked nicely…”

He reaches under her dress to find that she’d discarded her panties somewhere on the drive home. She’s practically dripping for him. He curses under his breath and hurries to undo the button and zipper on his jeans.

He’s inside her in the next fifteen seconds and they moan in unison at the sensation. She rides him—hard and fast—and with one swipe of his thumb against her clit she’s tumbling over the edge with him not far behind.

“I love ya, so much,” she says in a daze once she’s coherent enough to speak.

He chuckles. “Love you too, Harls. Now let’s get upstairs.”

She’s completely boneless and insists on being carried upstairs—which he does happily. He would go to the ends of the earth for Harley Quinn and still has trouble believing she’s actually his. She could’ve chosen anyone she wanted and chose his broken, traumatized ass.

She stirs in his hold and nuzzles her nose into his neck. “Mmm, we almost home, baby?” she asks sleepily.

“Almost there, Harls,” he responds with a quiet laugh.

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Contrary to what most people probably think, Rick and Harley aren’t always fucking like rabbits. A lot of times all they do is cuddle—when she’s nursing a hangover, when he’s dealing with a migraine, when they’re too busy paying attention to the cheesy horror movies they’re watching. These moments are some of Harley’s favorites.

There’s no Waller, no bomb in her neck—just her and Rick, sharing an apartment in the bad part of town with a shower that leaks. She never thought she’d get this way back when she first admitted she had feelings for him.

Sure, the sex is fantastic, but more than anything she just loves the fact that she gets to be with him.

He pauses in his ranting about all the inaccuracies in the war movie they just watched once he realizes she’s staring at him with what she’s sure is the dopiest grin ever. “You okay, Harls?”

“I just really love ya. I hope ya know that.”

He gives her a soft smile that makes her heart skip a beat. “I love you too, Harls.”

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It’s a miracle she’s even able to sleep after that, quite frankly. How rude of him! She wakes up practically dripping after having the most delicious dream about how the next day might go.

Rick goes about his day like he hadn’t unleashed a ticking time bomb the night before—making breakfast for the two of them, going for a run, showering without asking her to join him. It’s slowly driving her insane.

And throughout all of it he’s making sure to tease her subtly—using pet names that make her melt, running his fingers up her back under her shirt, coming up behind her to hug her close and let her feel just how hard he is.

She’s a horny mess by the time he gets out of the shower, shirtless and wet hair dripping. She has to bite her lip to hold back the moan she wants to let out at the sight of those tattoos she’s obsessed with.

He takes his sweet ass time waltzing over to her from where she’s standing in the kitchen, coffee mug forgotten halfway to her lips.

He takes the mug from her hands gently and places it on the counter before pulling her into his arms and giving her a gentle kiss. She kisses back eagerly—hands clinging around his neck. She’s so distracted by the kiss that she squeaks in surprise when his hand snakes between their bodies to slip under the waistband of her sleep shorts. It quickly turns into a moan as his fingers graze her clit. She’s so worked up that she comes embarrassingly quickly—he barely needs to touch her.

“Hands behind your back,” he orders, producing a silk blindfold from behind his back—the same one she’d bought on a whim three months ago.

She hesitates for a brief second—remembering how disastrous it had been the last time they used it. She trusts him though, and does as she’s told. He ties her hands behind her back—being careful not to make the knot too tight—and then hoists her onto the counter next to the stove. He gently pulls her shorts and panties off and then his hand is back between her legs.

She steadies herself as well as she can with her hands behind her back and gasps as he starts placing heated kisses down her throat. “So here’s what’s gonna happen, darlin’. I’m gonna make you come so many times you won’t be able to think straight, and you’re gonna count every single one out loud.”

He nips at her throat as his fingers circle her clit and it’s not long before she’s barreling towards another orgasm.

“Two,” she gasps out, and can feel him smirk against her neck. Smug bastard.

He slips two fingers inside her as his thumb continues to circle her clit. She’s halfway to feeling overstimulated but also doesn’t want him to ever stop.

Her brain is static as she tips over the edge again. “Three!”

Orgasm number four follows behind quickly after.

She’s so sensitive it’s almost painful.

“Color, Harls?”

“Yellow?” she says, already feeling terrible about it. His touch disappears and she whines at the loss of contact.

“Overstimulated?” he asks.

She nods, embarrassed.

He kisses her forehead gently. “Okay, let’s take a breather.”

She’s grateful for the break but is also still so horny she can barely think straight. The gears are turning in her head as she comes up with an idea.

“Whatcha thinkin’, Harls? Talk to me,” he orders gently, thumb rubbing circles into her hip.

“Um. I was thinkin’ that maybe I could tie you up​​​?”

“And?”

“And, um, sit on your face and see how many times ya can make me come with just your mouth,” she manages to get out. Her cheeks are burning. Does he think her idea is stupid?

He curses under his breath and she panics for a second before he tells her, “I think that’s the hottest idea you’ve ever come up with.”

He unties her wrists and pulls her hands to his chest—rubbing soothing circles to get the circulation going again.

She hops off the counter and grabs the blindfold from him before grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the bedroom.

He lays down on the bed and waits patiently for her next instructions. “Hands above your head, Colonel.”

He obeys with a low moan that has her head spinning. Having control over him like this is doing things to her she wasn’t expecting.

She ties his wrists to the headboard and tugs on them to make sure his restraints aren’t too tight.

“So what’re you waiting for, Harls?” he teases with a smirk.

“What if I suffocate ya?” she asks, suddenly worried.

“I’ll tap the headboard if I need you to move. Now get your ass over here.”

She moans and has to grip the headboard to stop herself from collapsing on top of him at the first swipe of his tongue against her clit.

The orgasms blur together at that point and the only thing helping her keep track of them all is the fact that she’s still obediently counting every single one out loud.

He taps the headboard after orgasm number eight and she moves immediately. “Am I crushin’ ya?” she asks worriedly.

“Nope, but I’m about to go fuckin’ insane if I’m not inside you in the next fifteen seconds.”

They both moan in unison as she sinks down onto his cock. He strains against his restraints—desperate to touch her—but she’s having too much fun with this. She goes to work making both of them go slowly insane as she works herself up to orgasm number nine, and it’s only then that she reaches up to untie his wrists.

His hands immediately grab her hips—hard enough to leave bruises and flip them over. He thrusts into her, hard and fast, and grits out, “C’mon, sweetheart, I know you got one more in you.”

She screams out, “Ten!” as he empties himself inside her.

He collapses on top of her, both of them breathing hard. It takes several minutes but once he’s coherent again he picks his head up and tells her, “Looks like you owe me twenty bucks.”

“You are such a smug bastard!” she replies, with a slap to his shoulder.

“Yeah but you love me anyway.”

She does. So much. What did she do to deserve him?

Rick rolls to the side and pulls her against him. She throws a leg over his hip and snuggles close. “Whatcha thinkin’, Harls? You’re being awfully quiet.”

She tries her best to articulate the thoughts rolling around in her head. Truthfully, she hadn’t been expecting how healing it would feel to be in control like that—to have Rick completely at her mercy. She knows she always has agency and power in any sort of situation the two of them might find themselves in, but it’s somehow different when she’s the one in control. It’s not a feeling she’s used to.

“Well,” he says, as he mulls over her words, “looks like you’ll have to tie me up more often.”

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Harley waits outside the club for what feels like an hour but is probably only a few minutes. She’s so horny she could cry and Rick’s taking his sweet ass time.

When he finally appears, she pounces on him immediately—legs going around his waist and lips crashing into his. She feels the rough brick wall on her back as he attacks her neck with nips and kisses—marking his territory.

“Fuck me!” she gasps.

He slides his hand up her inner thigh to her panties—which are soaked through. “Someone’s eager, huh?” he teases.

Oh god, she’s gonna bite his head off if he doesn’t fucking touch her already!

She’s cut off mid-thought when his fingers slip underneath her panties and drag through her wet heat up to her clit.

She moans loudly and encourages him to keep going. She’s so wound up that she comes embarrassingly fast on his fingers—but he’s not done with her.

She can feel his hands between their bodies as he fumbles with his belt buckle, and bites his neck—hard—to muffle her scream as he slams into her.

By the time they’re done, he’s as marked up as she is.

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She’s giggling as they slip back inside the club. Rick’s hair is a post-fuck mess and she’s sure hers isn’t much better. She can’t help but smile smugly when she sees the bitch who was flirting with him earlier—scowling at the two of them while she sips her wine.

She makes a detour to the bathroom so she can straighten out her hair and has to bite her lip to suppress a moan when she sees just how marked up she is. God, she loves this man.

After reapplying her lipstick and putting her hair back up she heads over to the bar for another drink. She’s waiting for the bartender to notice her when she feels a hand grope her ass and a sleazy voice in her ear saying, “Hey baby, lemme buy you a drink.”

She tenses and grabs the hand that’s touching her. “I just want ya to know that my boyfriend is gonna kick your fuckin’ ass if you don’t back the fuck off.”

“She’s right, you know,” she hears, before Rick is shoving the guy away from her and then grabbing him by the collar.

Despite how dark it is in the club, she can see the guy’s face drain of color as he stammers out a half-assed apology.

Rick lets him go but watches him like a hawk until he sees him leave the club completely.

“You okay, Harls?”

“Yes and that was the second hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” she says as she yanks him down by the collar of his shirt. “Take me home, right the fuck now, Colonel.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responds with a smirk. “But first we gotta close out our tab.”

Harley shrieks in frustration and Rick laughs, pulling her close and caressing her hip. “Patience, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear.

They manage to make it back to their apartment building in record time.