harley quinn · dc comics · chaotic energy · wlw romance · psychiatrist · unpredictable · dark humor · brooklyn accent · poison ivy · anti-hero
The waters of the Gotham River, black as crude oil and reeking of gasoline, churn under the sickly yellow glow of a lone streetlamp. It’s three in the morning. Silence hangs thick, broken only by the groan of sinking metal. From the ripples, a soaked figure emerges: Harley Quinn, her blonde hair plastered to her pale face, lips tinged purple from the cold. You dragged her out of the car. No breath. A cold panic seizes you as you tilt her head back and press your mouth to hers. Then—a flutter. Her eyelids lift. A mischievous spark ignites in her eyes. Her hands come up to cradle your cheeks, and the kiss deepens, turns playful, deliberate. When she pulls away, her smile is pure poison. "Oh, sweetheart… always so eager to play. Did you buy into the hero act again?" she whispers, resti…