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Harley grinned devilishly at Barry’s request. “Oh, don’t fuss. You’ll get ‘em. But I think I gotta take care of this first.” She nodded down at his erection with a smirk. Back on her knees again, she grinned at his relief. There was something so incredibly sexy about how well he was responding. Leaning forward, Harley took him in her hand and started to pump, pressing a trail of kisses along his stomach until she reached the slope of his hip. Pulling back, Harley let her lips close around him again, sucking gently. Keeping the rhythm with her left hand, her other hand wandered to his thigh, massaging it.

She had to admit, the growl was sexy. Harley let out another moan and she let her tongue circle around the tip of his penis before coming up to kiss him again. Her free hand carded into the hair at the nape of his neck, and she pulled his lips to hers in a deep but brief kiss. She kept her hand at work, kissing quickly down his neck. “Can’t wait, tiger,” she purred into the crook of his neck. After a flash of a grin, she took him back into her mouth, speeding up the pace ever so slightly. She worked her fingers gently against the muscles in his lower back and took him in as deep as she could, still pumping with her free hand.

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Harley didn’t have a word for what Barry was to her. She’d never used words like boyfriend for the Joker, and he was really the only steady partner she’d ever had. Barry was just Barry. Her Barry-Bear. The nickname is a sudden spike in her heart and she can feel the skin on her lower back like fire. Don’t focus on it, a voice from somewhere within her says, don’t let it consume you. It’s her own voice; she recognizes it faintly. But it’s different, not affected the same way as her speech is. It’s softer, less accented. It’s Harleen, maybe, if there’s any of Harleen left in her. When she was with Barry she hardly thought of the barriers that should have technically been there. So what if he was a cape? She liked him and he was cute and that was that. There was no image she had to stick to without the Joker. Harley could do whatever she damn well pleased. 

Things with Barry were supposed to be fun. Everything was sweet and cute and silly until suddenly it wasn’t. Harley had to first realize that Barry was one of the only people left on the planet with whom she felt safe. Her arms were folded in between their chests and her fingers weakly gripped at the fabric of his shirt. Tears still spilled from her cheeks and she just let him hold her for a few moments. “I messed up,” she finally says, “real bad.”

They weren’t a couple. Not technically. They never used the terms boyfriend and girlfriend, especially since there were a lot of times where Harley went back to The Joker. Too many times, actually. The truth was, whatever they were, he cared about her. A lot. And he enjoyed being with her. A lot. Both physically and emotionally. If there really was a term for them, it would probably be friends with benefits. There were SO MANY TIMES Barry wished she’d stop going back to The Joker so that him and her could be        something more. Whenever she did come back to him, though, he never took advantage of it. No. There was compassion first. Always. Sure she was classified as a criminal in Gotham but Barry’d technically befriended a few criminals in Central City (even though he never actually slept with any of them).

This time was different, though.

The other times her and The Joker were “on a break” she’d text him to come to Gotham. She never showed up like this. Not climbing through his window in tears in the middle of the night. There weren’t any cute nicknames, either. No jokes. No nothing. Whatever happened to Harley this time, this seemed like it was the final straw. Barry didn’t say anything as he kept his hands on her back, noticing that whatever was on her lower back       THAT’S what part of the pain dealt with. His hands focused on the middle and upper parts of her back, gently rubbing it, trying to stop her from shaking. He didn’t care of he had to sit there all night with her. If that’s what was needed, then that’s what he’d do.

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Bobby Briggs, I’m gonna eat you up.

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contd from (x) | @backinaflcsh

    Her world is spinning. She doesn’t know who, where, w h y she was. Animal instinct, spirit clawing for comfort that she doesn’t(?) deserve sends her to Central City. She’s scaling the wall in heels and the spot on her back where the tattoo was–– is... The tattoo is sore. But it’s different now, and just thinking about it makes her want to claw it off. A foot slips and her knee scrapes against brick, ripping a hole in her tights. Just as well.  Nothing feels real and she’s so dizzy, like her brain is dislodged in her head. That was a side effect of... something. Something an old patient took, and had stopped taking. His brain shook around in his head. She’d never felt it. She’s feeling it now. This whole time, she’s been climbing and she hardly noticed she was doing it. Tears blur her vision and she’s managed to perch on his windowsill, prying the window up where she knows it’s loose. She slips in and takes her shoes off. God, she wants those shoes off.

   Barry looks so utterly confused but she just goes and sits on his bed, legs tucker underneath herself and she sighs in relief when he takes her into his arms. His hands pass over the tattoo–– the tattoo, the tattoo, GOD THAT TATTOO SHE WANTS IT OFF OFF OFF OFF she’d do just about anything for it to be gone. But it hurts when he touches it and she can’t help but react. Her arms are so weak, they simply hang by his hips, palms curving to keep the purchase she has on him. He’s practically holding her up now. God, is this what she’s like? She propels into peoples’ lives, interrupts them, destroys everything in her wake? Isn’t that what Mr. J–– no, the Joker–– did to her? Isn’t that what he’s still doing? Harley dimly wonders what effect she’s had on Barry’s life. It’d all been fun, hadn’t it? He was fun, a fling. Feelings may have developed, sure, but had she wreaked havok, too? Suddenly, she feels so incredibly human, only for a moment. “Sorry,” she mumbles into his shoulder. For a fleeting moment, she is Harleen, leant against her boyfriends shoulder, crying. And all at once, identity is gone again and her head resumes swimming. Whatever happened, you’re safe now. Now that’s just too much. Is he right? God, no, he can’t be. But she feels so safe. She’s never felt this safe, and––– She lets out a soft whimper in reply, nothing substantial, just a gentle “mmmmhhh,” all muddled with confusion and terror and doubt.

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the clown princess queen of crime

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Harley watched as he readied himself to speak, grinning at his acquiescence. “Thank you!” she warbled, unzipping her ridiculous sneaker-boot, and placing it on his desk. She tottered a moment with one foot bare and the other not before standing down flat-footed, and removing the other shoe.

“I figure you can just staple it or glue it back on, right? Or would I be too heavy?” She paused for a moment. “Oh. Guess I shoulda found a cobbler. But you were right here!”

Leo studied the woman in stunned silence after her abrupt entrance before he managed to stumble out some sort of reply.

Pale blue eyes blinking to kick start his brain again, he shook his head once. “I think you mean to find a cobbler, but I could have a look?” he suggested, still unsure. However, it was in his nature to offer some kind of aide.

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      Harley couldn’t keep a grin off her face. Barry was an absolute treasure; responsive, eager. She hadn’t had anyone quite like this in a long time. He was already practically melted into the palm of her hand, and she had to admit: having a little power for once was intoxicating. Even so, he was still a smart alec, and Harley glanced up at him, her arms resting on his thighs. “Don’t you worry, there’s plenty more where that came from. In fact––––” She stood and scurried over to her purse: a token from her time with the Squad.

   Triumphantly, she pulled out her lipstick and reapplied it, smacking her lips together with a sound pop. Returning it to it’s place of origin, she also happened upon a condom, all wrapped and upon closer inspection–– not expired. “Ooh,” she mumbled before turning to Barry, brandishing it proudly between two fingers, “lucky us!” She tucked it into her bra before returning to her place between his knees.

   “Aww, poor thing,” she said, teasing, but also with a note of sincerity in her voice. She grinned at him as she slid his jeans (and his boxers with them) off of his legs, taking care to drag the pads of her fingertips over soft skin. 

  Smile, though faint, still shaping her lips, Harley pressed her mouth against the head of Barry’s penis. She ran her tongue swiftly across it before taking him further into her mouth, hand pumping where she couldn’t quite reach. Her head bobbed as she began a rhythm, moaning softly against him so he’d feel the vibration.

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ok so my theme is a huge mess right now bc i started editing before i was ready so stay tuned sorry its a little hard to read right now

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knowing it’s real means you gotta make a decision.ONE, keep denying it. or two… DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

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psa!

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You don’t want that, man, you don’t want that! I want that.

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Harley Quinn admiring El Diablo’s power.

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Harley’s lipstick was smeared and faded and by and large all over Barry from the neck up. He was easy to please, and that made it all the more fun. She wasn’t used to getting such a reaction, but it was certainly a welcome change. Grinning as Barry let out a moan, Harley moved her lips to his jaw and trailed kisses down his neck, stopping every so often to nip at soft skin. “Mmm,” she mumbled, mouth still pressed into the crook of his neck, “good.”

“Now,” she said, forcing herself to pull away, “let’s deal with this.” Already smiling again, Harley began to undo the buttons on Barry’s shirt. Lips followed her fingers, pressing a kiss after each newly opened button. Once she reached the end, she returned her lips to his and slid the shirt off, fingers brushing over his shoulders and down his arms.

Back up on her perch, Harley took the opportunity to roll her hips against his–– only once, though, before she slid off his lap and onto the floor between his knees. “Let’s take care of you, huh?” Hands set to work on his belt buckle, his jeans, the waistband of his underwear. She freed his length from his boxers and looked up at him. She had to admit she was going a tad bit fast. “You okay? You want these off, kitten?” she asked, tugging gently at his jeans.

Barry wanted to object but Harley’s lips where already back on him. Is there any part of me she hasn’t kissed yet? Wait there’s actually a lot she hasn’t kissed yet but that’s besides the point right now. Her lips were so soft, part of him wasn’t complaining about the amount of kisses he was getting but that didn’t stop him from kissing her back. Her lipstick seemed more smeared than it was before they left Jitters (he had a feeling the extra kisses he’d gotten were probably the reason for that), but he quickly gave into the kiss. 

When her hands started moving to other places, the kiss broke off, moans escaping his mouth. His pants were already feeling tighter from all the affection she’d been giving him, but when her hand touched him there, it was all over for him. 

“I-whatever you have in mind, I’m in.”  

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