Rick and Harley like to fuck. A lot
It's exactly what it says on the tin. Rick and Harley are feral for each other. I wanted to write more explicit smut so here we are. Nothing but pure filth below the cut
Rick and Harley’s relationship started with the hindrance of steel prison bars and bombs implanted in necks, under the watchful eye of Amanda Waller. Neither one of them dared to hope for more than clandestine visits to her cell and frantic kisses under the cover of darkness while on missions together.
But after Corto Maltese they find themselves with the opportunity to just be together—and they take full advantage of it.
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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.”
And sure, they do end up fucking after the second movie is done, but they don’t want to love any other way.
