Adult-FanFiction.org : Comics

Building up or breaking down of Harleen Quinzel	By : Risen86 Category: DC Verse Comics > Suicide Squad Views: 6735 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Suicide Squad, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 21
- 22
- 23
21/
She was able to scurry out of my arms and bend over in worship of the porcelain altar before throwing up for the third time tonight. I chuckle as I follow her into the bathroom, toeing my vomit-splattered shoes off along the way. Leaning leisurely onto the doorframe I take in the sight of her curved back and pert ass clad in tight black yoga pants.
I can practically feel the blood rushing out of my brain, through my veins and into the rapidly hardening region in my pants (does it ever end?). Sex is an abhorrence people! Sex is life adding insult to injury by tagging on a happy ending (la petite mort) onto a demeaning act meant to trick you into procreation. I was above that particular joke; that is until she came along (my own personal Eve) of course. I bit the apple and like breaking the seal after a long night of drinking or finally giving in to the urge of committing your first act of murder, if you do it once you're bound to do it again (…and again…and again… and again… ad infinitum).
Harley moves away from the toilet, seemingly done with her retching and stands in front of the sink to get ready to brush her teeth. Her lips move at me but I can't hear a word she's saying, I can only focus on the enticing movement of her pink plump lips. The heat moves from my groin up to the pit of my gut when her breasts start swaying with the to and fro motion of her teeth brushing.
Sex (our parody of death) is an undignified mess of limbs (in extreme cases the dismembered kind), bodily fluids (most of which are icky), inconvenient (and involuntary) muscle engorgements not to mention the unconventional (s)exercise involved. It can be as painful as it is pleasurable and in some cases it can be exploited to leave you feeling used, abused, tricked and worthless (pretty handy). All in all though, I hate sex. I hate it and I also love every fucking second (see what I did there?).
"Haha…"
"Mr. J?" The room comes sharply back into focus when Harley places her hand on my abdomen "Puddin', you've got um… vomit on your pants."
I glance down and see, right at the bottom of my pant leg, splatters of green bile that have started to dry and crust over.
"I can put them in the laundry for you." She offers. I hold her neck and jaw in my hand and brush my thumb over those lips.
"Mmm."
"Take them o-" She begins but I cut off her off by using my grip on her head to jerk her whole body into me. Our lips meet and she immediately turns her face away "No stop." I cut her off again by dropping my hand down to her throat and squeezing "No?" I use my chokehold to push her farther back into the room.
"Quincy is in the next room. My brother is dead in the next room, please." She croaks as her fingers wrap around my wrist to loosen the hold on her neck.
I don't stop pushing her into the bathroom until her back hits the sink then I lean forward to place a kiss on her neck. With both her hands on my chest she pushes at me harshly, gaining enough distance and leverage to punch me squarely in the nose (well damn girl). My head whips back and I stumble "Haha…" lurching forward I grab ahold of her shirt collar and jerk downwards until the material tears, the buttons pop off and her pink bra becomes visible underneath her shirt.
She shoulders past me in an attempt to get away but I grab ahold of her arm and, when I refuse to let her go, she struggles to break my grasp. Grabbing both her hands I manage to wrestle her to the floor; with my hips lodged between her thighs and my weight crushing her into the floor I force both her wrists over her head and trap them there.
She stops struggling then, with her eyes locked onto mine, and allows me to shift both her wrists into one hand so I can drag the other hand down towards her bra. We are both gasping; her breasts moving quite pleasingly with motion and I move forward again to kiss her. She kisses me back this time with violence (….yea…) then, when I groan, she bites down onto my tongue drawing blood (never been more turned on in my life).
I try to pull away as the copper taste of blood fills my mouth but she latches on to me. She moans into my mouth when I grind my erection into her then, using my distraction, she shifts quickly and knees me in the groin (bipolar much?). I jerk my hips away giving laughing hysterically at the pain and her the opportunity to wrestle out of my grasp. When she's crawled away from me she staggers to her feet and rushes towards the door.
I go out of my way and better instincts to help her out and this (blue balls) is my thanks? It's a cruel, cruel world ladies and gentlemen (trust me I would know) and being on the receiving end sucks!
"You know, if I'd just let him kill you your corpse wouldn't have objected to a little hanky panky.." I mutter stretching back on the tiles; my tone sounds whinny even to myself (pathetic) I note as I part my thighs from my aching groin.
She reaches the doorway and stares into the blackness of her room for a moment then, gripping the door handle, she closes the door quietly and turns to face me. It takes me a moment to process that she stayed in the room with me; you see, generally when people run away from me they do tend to actually run often screaming (no better way to run).
"I thought this was common knowledge but running away does usually involve, you know, actual running to somewhere else."
Her eyes are glowing when they meet mine, her chest is heaving and her trembling hands come up to finger her tattered shirt. "I'm not running away…I-I've never wanted to fuck someone as much as I want to fuck you right now."
If I had eyebrows they'd be in my hairline. Would you look at that, it was as much fun for her as it was for me (the Eurythmics got it right with Sweet Dreams).
"Hah…" Is all I'm able to get out before she attacks me. The wind is knocked out of me from the impact of her weight on my ribs then she entangles her fingers into my hair and cracks my head (oooowwiiee) on the floor as she locks her lips onto mine.
I pull her bra down to reveal her breasts and take them into my hands; they're warm, heavy and soft and they send desire shooting right down to my cock (ah fuck).
"Ah… fuck…" I mumble against her lips then I pinch and pull both her nipples between my fingers harshly.
She moans against my lips "Ah…Mr. J." her hands run down my cheek and I see movement from the corner of my eyes before she entangles her fingers in my hair and slams my head forcefully into the ground. My teeth jar together and I stare at her shocked again at her behavior. No she did not (that's hot)!
She pulls back laughing gleefully then shifts down onto my stiff cock and grinds onto it. The pleasure is mind numbing but when I grip her hips to pull her down harder she stops grinding (that's just mean). I feel the annoyance grumble through my throat; she's teasing me and I'm not sure whether I want to kiss or kill her for it (probably a little of both). I grab her by the neck again and, much to her giggling delight, I grind forcefully upward (it's decided then).
I use my grip on her neck and a hard fist to her chest to maneuver her off me and onto the floor. The wind is knocked out of her and I take a second to appreciate the pleasing movement of her breasts as she struggles to catch her breath.
Her eyes become large (not so funny now huh) when I pull a blade from my back pocket and run it down her bare belly. I only use enough pressure to leave a very pretty red mark where the knife trails down her skin and when I reach the waist of her pants I cut through it.
"Yes…" she whispers; I look up and I see the desire in her eyes "Yes please. I need you to fuck me." I'm hard to the point of pain now and I impatiently let go of her throat to concentrate on ripping her pants to shreds. She fumbles with my belt and zipper, when she finally is able to loosen them she reaches in to wrap her fingers tightly around my throbbing erection.
"Ah Harl... Fast." I snap at her; she squeezes my erection painfully and her stroking motion becomes vigorous. She reaches her second hand down and the warmth of them envelopes my balls; my head drops onto her chest and I groan.
I drop the knife then rip the remaining material of her pants and underwear to shreds. She's wet, so beautifully wet; the slickness is trickling from between her pussy lips towards her ass. Hitting her hands away I hold the base of my cock and slam it harshly into the warmth of her (ah… finally).
We groan simultaneously at the intensity and she wraps her legs around my hips as I begin fucking her. The rhythmic sound of our hips slapping against each other and her ass smacking the ground echoes through the room. Her hand slides into the back of my pants to grip my ass and I increase the pace of my thrusts.
"Oh puddin' I'm gonna cum." She kisses me deeply and I trap her hands on either side of her head. I feel her pussy convulse around me and I don't stop pounding as the orgasm racks her body. Mildly miffed that she had reached her peek before me, I retaliate by slapping her across the face; she responds by arching her back and scratching at me longingly (not what I had expected).
Shifting to a kneeling position, I lift her legs onto my shoulders and push my weight onto her and resume my harsh thrusting. The pleasure builds with every one of my jerking motions and I know I'm not going to last very long.
"Ah, Mr. J. It's happening again." Her hands drop to my hips and I the coolness of sweat trickles down the back of my neck. My orgasm builds in me like the drawing back of the tide before a tidal wave. When her pussy starts convulsing around my cock this time I orgasm with her. The ecstasy comes over me in waves, each one spurting more of my cum into the warmth of her.
It feels so, so good and I hang on to her for the ride.
When the last wave washes past me I roll over boneless (pun intended) beside her and for the first time in a really long while my eyes fall closed.
Harley
His whole body comes down onto mine; his defined chest crushes my thighs down onto my breasts, his arms fall by my ears and when he places his forehead against the side of my neck I dig my nails into his damp hips. I can feel the orgasm come over him in intermittent spasms, his hips jerking and stopping as I convulse around him.
When the ecstasy quiets down to a pleasant after-burn and his hips stop pushing into mine I manage a quick kiss on his cheek as he rolls off of me. Shifting to face him I watch in fascination as his normally cold and penetrating eyes turn hazy behind drooping eyelids.
He's falling asleep, I realize, and my heart starts racing again for a reason other than physical arousal. I've never felt so much bliss from just being close to somebody. Inching closer, I prop myself up on an arm and pepper him with kisses, his hard defined chest, his damp neck, his flushed cheeks and finally his lips. He kisses back, his lips moving softly against mine; surprised by his tenderness to look at him. His eyes are closed and his breathing shallow; he'd responded to me in his sleep.
I'm riding on pure emotional and psychological bliss when I walk into my darkened bedroom; the sight of Quincy's body makes me stumble though. I'd forgotten that he was here; I'd forgotten that we'd left him dead in here. I place my hand on my belly and take a few steadying breathes before moving closer.
He's laying limbs splayed haphazardly, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling and a bloody red hole right in the middle of his forehead. I wait silently for the gagging to start again or maybe for the tears but nothing happens. No more heaving, no more tearing up and curiously there is very little remorse left for him too.
Whoever he was he hadn't been my brother, not really. Not anymore. He came here ready to kill me; I could see it in his eyes when he pointed the gun at me. It wasn't like the night Mr. J walked into my bedroom with a switchblade or when he'd straddled me in his hideout with a gun to my head. Those incidents had felt like games, not unlike the one we just played in the bathroom. They were scary and painful but looking back at them they were also playful and fun.
What I felt with Quincy was neither playful nor fun; when I saw the look in his eyes I knew he had come with the intent to kill me and all I felt was unbridled fear. I had heard Mr. J revving the engine of his car; I thought he'd left but he came in to save me. I drop my hand from belly and stare into Quincy's lifeless eyes then perching over his body I mutter smugly "That's how you do murder, bitch!"
I step over him and, throwing my blood-splattered duvet over him, I gather a few pillows and a bed sheet that I carry back into the bathroom. After gingerly placing a pillow under puddin's head and snuggling up to him I push a stray strand of hair away from his ear.
"You came in and saved me." I whisper to him "You heard me screaming didn't you? You heard me and you came in and saved me." I kiss his neck "You love me, you do and I love you too."
Putting my head down on his shoulder and wrapping his arm around my waist I close my eyes and join him in sleep.
- 21
- 22
- 23
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Building up or breaking down of Harleen Quinzel