(FIC) Nine of Clubs: A strong will held in reserve (the cutting room floor series)
Title: Nine of Clubs: A strong will held in reserve
Series: The Cutting Room Floor - oneshots in between scenes in A Better Class of Criminal
Author: agent0fchaos
Proof Reader: pressure_hinges
Character/Pairing: Joker/Harley
Rating: NC-17
Warning: urination
Summary: She makes him feel things he is not prepared to feel...betrayed by his body, the Joker punishes them both.
Nine of Clubs
A strong will held in reserve
Her heart leapt as soon as she heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hall, stopping in front of the pink room she had been confined to for five days now. As soon as the door was open she leapt up to embrace him, wrapping her legs around his waist and nuzzling against his face. Holding her apathetically with one arm as he closed the door with the other, Joker then hugged her back, his hands pressed firmly against her back as he ran them up and down until he suddenly threw her down and slapped her face three times in succession. Chastising herself for impudence, Harley clutched her face and kept her attention on the tri-colored tulle tutu she had been playing dress up in before Joker came in.
Joker was pleased she kept her eyes downcast and away from him, his slightly heaving chest, his hands clenching and unclenching, and sucking on his bottom lip. He hadn't expected her to assault him...she was always excited to see him, of course, but she had never just thrown herself at him, so full of adoration and trust that he would catch her. Which he did, surprising even himself. Disgusting. Since when did his body go turncoat on him, his arms automatically rising to hold her, his hands happily roaming across her back, and a fire in his belly igniting as soon as she had pressed her flushed cheek to his face. Traitors! Punishments all around.
Joker snapped his fingers until Harley shyly looked up at him, apologizing with her blue eyes. Careful to keep his face expressionless as he pointed a commanding finger at the center of the bed Joker waited until she dutifully crawled to the exact spot he aimed at before taking his stern gaze away from her. Grabbing the white chair with the pink crushed velvet seat Joker positioned it a few feet back from where he had been standing prior and sat down in it with an expectant expression at Harley.
Failing miserably at keeping her confusion from her face, Harley struggled to think what he might want from her. He wasn't about to tell her apparently, so she knew she would have to figure it out for herself. Nervously she began to unconsciously fiddle with the hem of the tutu, desperately trying to keep his good favor, when she saw that his gaze was locked on her hands, a hungry film over his eyes as they followed the soft movements of the fabric. Harley then understood what he wanted from her.
Rising to her knees before him, Harley continued to flit her fingers around the fuchsia, white and baby pink tulle, tugging on the white satin ribbon tail that dangled from the elasticized waistband. Curling the ribbon tail around her index and middle finger, Harley slid the satin between the knuckles before sliding her hands below the hem of her frilly skirt and tentatively inched her fingertips down to the eyelet trimmed floral patterned days of the week panties she wore, proudly displaying Tuesday arched across its front. Shyly approaching the panties with one hand, the other lightly caressing her thigh, Harley's index finger gently prodded the cotton, snaked back instantly, then returned with the other fingers, rubbing firmly against her pubis before hooking her index finger between her cloth covered lips and vigorously began to work her clit through the undergarment.
"Slower, Harleygirl, " Joker demanded softly, flicking his eyes to hers to make sure she acknowledged him. Obeying, she then began to use the pads of her fingers to rub across her pussy, stroking it to wetness until the panties grew heavy with moisture, darkening the white fabric. The hand that had been rubbing her thigh raised to her stretchy tank top and grabbed her left breast, kneading, tugging, and pinching it through the baby pink material.
She quickly came up with a rhythm to her ministrations, rubbing frantically against her pussy only to slow to long, deep strokes as she furiously tugged on her breast, thrusting her chest upward. Her mouth slack, and labored breathing, Harley soon could not take her own torment and used two fingers to pinch hold of her clit through the panties and work it mercilessly. This time, no protest was made from the Joker.
Harley grimaced as she felt a familiar pressure well in her gut and push down against her groin. Reluctantly she paused, and blushing furiously through fluttering eyes, pleaded to be momentarily excused.
"No," the Joker answered plainly without taunting anger. Just a simple nullification, denying Harley her need to alleviate basic bodily function. "Keep going."
Wincing, Harley struggled to obey as she returned to her actions. As soon as her fingers took hold of her clit, an electric jolt went up her spine. The pressing need to use the restroom combined with her impending orgasm only intensified everything for her, setting her nerve endings on fire with building need and desire. With her eyes alone, Harley pleaded with the Joker to allow her to stop, but his face remained impassive, his eyes fixed only on the hand between her legs. Feeling her insides churn as her bladder grew heavier, Harley squeezed her eyes shut, hoping her pleasure would drown out the twisting pain in her pelvis.
Oh, no, Harley thought with a whimper, her bottom lip quivering helplessly as she repeatedly gasped breathlessly. Uncaring about the rules anymore, whatever they may have been in the first place, Harley thrust her hand inside the panties and furiously worked her clit, and in one white hot moment of absolute ecstasy, Harley abandoned all previous concerns, releasing the dam on her orgasm and bladder. Quailing with the intensity her body expelled both of her fluids with, Harley bucked her hips against the air, riding out the waves of frenzied elation and gratifying release until she was completely and utterly drained, both physically and mentally.
Panting, Harley looked down at the puddle between her knees, staining the pink and white wide striped sheets and already growing disgustingly cold against her skin.
"See?" Joker said calmly. "Wasn't that fun?" Tilting his head to one side and shrugging, he added, "For me, I mean."
Pushing the mental image of kneeling in her own urine away from her mind, Harley smiled seductively at him and lowered her lashes before leaning towards him, her hands firmly planted on her thighs.
"How can I make it even more fun for you, Mister J?"
"Oh, you can't," the Joker said with a secretive smile, sitting up in the chair and leaning back away from her. She leaned over, closing the space between the bed and chair and placed her hands on his thighs, smiling up at him with those luscious ruby lips.
"I bet I could put a smile on your face if I really tried," she purred as she squeezed her left hand down his inner of his thigh, he fingers brushing carelessly against his erection.
"No, no, no, you misunderstand me," Joker replied calmly, his hands covering hers, caressing them as he smiled back down at her. "You can't." Grabbing her hands, he suddenly flipped her arms into the air as he scooted back in the chair, laughing as he watched her tumble to the floor. Looking up at him in confusion, Harley kept her place on the floor rather than dare risking his anger by lifting herself up all of the way. What had gone wrong? He seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in watching her masturbate...no, she knew he did. She had felt his excitement, his need. Why didn't he want her to take care of him?
"Well, it's been a thin slice of heaven Harleykins," said the Joker as he hoisted himself onto his feet with a groan, clearly trying to ignore his physically agitated state.
Her chest heaving in rising panic as she realized he meant to leave her, Harley's mind crashed against a wall of self-doubt and anxiety. Doesn't he want me? Did he ever really want me? Am I horrible and he was just being polite before now? Crawling on her belly, she snatched at the hem of his pant leg but missed.
"What have I done?" Harley whined in that grating baby voice. "Please tell me, Daddy."
Staring at his hand on the doorknob for several moments, the Joker looked down over his shoulder at her. The tears trickling down her heart shaped face, the pain and adoration in her big blue eyes, and the little hand tentatively reaching up to him in an act of absolution. Don't you see it, Harleygirl? You're doing it right now.
"Nothing in particular," he said quietly before leaving her, shutting the door behind him.
Resting his head against the door, Joker exhaled a deep breath he did not realize he had been holding. His sweating palm still clung to the doorknob, a single digit feeling the old fashioned keyhole. Would she try and come after him this time? He could never risk her following him...especially after that scene. Cry as she might every time he left her, and this time was no exception as he listened to the sweet lament of rejection and frustration from within, he knew instinctively she would not disobey the unspoken rule about the door remaining unlocked.
Entering the master bedroom, he had another infuriating bout of self-doubt and decided to lock that door. There. It wasn't just for Harley, of course, selfish brat. There were plenty of other people in the house that could bother him, after all, and he just could not be disturbed at the moment.
Violently wringing his wrists as he paced back and forth, the Joker tried to escape the memory of what had just transpired. Damn her; that little number was supposed to have been a punishment for her! Not an open invitation for his body to defect on him. You know, we're kind of, uh, cellmates here...we must learn the fine art of diplomacy. His body raged back at him, refusing to let him produce any sort of imagery that might have quieted down his burning desire to march back to the room and pound Harley through the urine soaked mattress.
And wasn't that an unsuspecting but highly delicious turn of events?
"Shut up!" Joker shouted at himself, his voice straining with a frenzied pitch. Clenching his fist and teeth as he curled into a squatting position, the Joker belted out a loud, guttural exclamation of raw rage and repressed lust. Falling on his bottom, he leaned against the foot of the bed, exhausted. "Fuck!"
What the hell was the point of any of that if she knew just what the hell I am up to once I left her room anyway? Uh, yes, but isn't the point that she isn't the one in here with me? Oh. Yes. It is. And can't I just imagine the look on her face when she knows I had a grand ol' time without her? That I did not need her? Why, yes...I think I can imagine that look of crushed disappointment on that Sweet. Little. Face of hers.
His shoulders began to shake with laughter as he leaned his head back against the bed and placed the heel of his hands against his eyes, sliding his hands down his face, smearing the red and black face paint he wore around the house. Rolling his eyes around in their sockets he suddenly remembered what this meant and quickly unfastened his pants, releasing his painfully hard erection and began to quickly jerk off. Teach that little harlot a lesson...maybe she'll think twice before prancing around in those darling - no, not darling! - vile little outfits...pert little butt sticking out... - tramp! Tramp! Tramp! - just begging to be spanked - no, hit. Smack. Pow! Bang! Right upside the bouncy blond brain. And choked. Choked until she's blue in the face, blue like a corpse, blue like her eyes...eyes full of tears - and love - shut up!
"Fucking bitch," he gasped, intending for the words to come out not as a pitiful squeak that he would pointedly ignore but a ferocious growl of malice and hate, the base for all of the emotions he bothered to feel. From the darkest depths of his mind did he ask himself, Why are you fighting this? You are punishing yourself here as well. No, not Me. BODY. She wants you, and you want her. RIGHT! WANT! Not need. She's Mine, all Mine, because I want her to be Mine. All Mine. Mine to Play like a fiddle and mine to Break into itty bitty pieces. Then what's the problem, Mr. Joker? I can have her anytime I damn well want to but she cannot have Me at her whim - her needs can't ever come before Mine. But what if they're one and the same?
Growling through gritted teeth as he came, he refused to even entertain an answer to these ludicrous thoughts, brought on by Harley and the invariable effect that came from dipping his hand in the cookie jar one too many times. Yes, that was it. Clearly! His naughty little strumpet was getting the better of his body, which was now compromising his thoughts. Well, he wasn't down for the count yet! She was wallowing in her own torment and guilt of having given herself pleasure before making sure he had been taken care of first, and now had to live with the knowledge that he could take care of himself - did! Take! Care! Of! Himself! - without His little Harleygirl.
Ha ha, joke's on you, baby.
End
NOTES:
- Thanks for reading!
- Yeah, I switch POV a lot but that's just how I write :/ I want to get in both of their heads. I want my cake and death! :D
- This scene takes place and is mentioned briefly in chapter 12 if you recall
Series: The Cutting Room Floor - oneshots in between scenes in A Better Class of Criminal
Author: agent0fchaos
Proof Reader: pressure_hinges
Character/Pairing: Joker/Harley
Rating: NC-17
Warning: urination
Summary: She makes him feel things he is not prepared to feel...betrayed by his body, the Joker punishes them both.
Nine of Clubs
A strong will held in reserve
Her heart leapt as soon as she heard the heavy footsteps coming down the hall, stopping in front of the pink room she had been confined to for five days now. As soon as the door was open she leapt up to embrace him, wrapping her legs around his waist and nuzzling against his face. Holding her apathetically with one arm as he closed the door with the other, Joker then hugged her back, his hands pressed firmly against her back as he ran them up and down until he suddenly threw her down and slapped her face three times in succession. Chastising herself for impudence, Harley clutched her face and kept her attention on the tri-colored tulle tutu she had been playing dress up in before Joker came in.
Joker was pleased she kept her eyes downcast and away from him, his slightly heaving chest, his hands clenching and unclenching, and sucking on his bottom lip. He hadn't expected her to assault him...she was always excited to see him, of course, but she had never just thrown herself at him, so full of adoration and trust that he would catch her. Which he did, surprising even himself. Disgusting. Since when did his body go turncoat on him, his arms automatically rising to hold her, his hands happily roaming across her back, and a fire in his belly igniting as soon as she had pressed her flushed cheek to his face. Traitors! Punishments all around.
Joker snapped his fingers until Harley shyly looked up at him, apologizing with her blue eyes. Careful to keep his face expressionless as he pointed a commanding finger at the center of the bed Joker waited until she dutifully crawled to the exact spot he aimed at before taking his stern gaze away from her. Grabbing the white chair with the pink crushed velvet seat Joker positioned it a few feet back from where he had been standing prior and sat down in it with an expectant expression at Harley.
Failing miserably at keeping her confusion from her face, Harley struggled to think what he might want from her. He wasn't about to tell her apparently, so she knew she would have to figure it out for herself. Nervously she began to unconsciously fiddle with the hem of the tutu, desperately trying to keep his good favor, when she saw that his gaze was locked on her hands, a hungry film over his eyes as they followed the soft movements of the fabric. Harley then understood what he wanted from her.
Rising to her knees before him, Harley continued to flit her fingers around the fuchsia, white and baby pink tulle, tugging on the white satin ribbon tail that dangled from the elasticized waistband. Curling the ribbon tail around her index and middle finger, Harley slid the satin between the knuckles before sliding her hands below the hem of her frilly skirt and tentatively inched her fingertips down to the eyelet trimmed floral patterned days of the week panties she wore, proudly displaying Tuesday arched across its front. Shyly approaching the panties with one hand, the other lightly caressing her thigh, Harley's index finger gently prodded the cotton, snaked back instantly, then returned with the other fingers, rubbing firmly against her pubis before hooking her index finger between her cloth covered lips and vigorously began to work her clit through the undergarment.
"Slower, Harleygirl, " Joker demanded softly, flicking his eyes to hers to make sure she acknowledged him. Obeying, she then began to use the pads of her fingers to rub across her pussy, stroking it to wetness until the panties grew heavy with moisture, darkening the white fabric. The hand that had been rubbing her thigh raised to her stretchy tank top and grabbed her left breast, kneading, tugging, and pinching it through the baby pink material.
She quickly came up with a rhythm to her ministrations, rubbing frantically against her pussy only to slow to long, deep strokes as she furiously tugged on her breast, thrusting her chest upward. Her mouth slack, and labored breathing, Harley soon could not take her own torment and used two fingers to pinch hold of her clit through the panties and work it mercilessly. This time, no protest was made from the Joker.
Harley grimaced as she felt a familiar pressure well in her gut and push down against her groin. Reluctantly she paused, and blushing furiously through fluttering eyes, pleaded to be momentarily excused.
"No," the Joker answered plainly without taunting anger. Just a simple nullification, denying Harley her need to alleviate basic bodily function. "Keep going."
Wincing, Harley struggled to obey as she returned to her actions. As soon as her fingers took hold of her clit, an electric jolt went up her spine. The pressing need to use the restroom combined with her impending orgasm only intensified everything for her, setting her nerve endings on fire with building need and desire. With her eyes alone, Harley pleaded with the Joker to allow her to stop, but his face remained impassive, his eyes fixed only on the hand between her legs. Feeling her insides churn as her bladder grew heavier, Harley squeezed her eyes shut, hoping her pleasure would drown out the twisting pain in her pelvis.
Oh, no, Harley thought with a whimper, her bottom lip quivering helplessly as she repeatedly gasped breathlessly. Uncaring about the rules anymore, whatever they may have been in the first place, Harley thrust her hand inside the panties and furiously worked her clit, and in one white hot moment of absolute ecstasy, Harley abandoned all previous concerns, releasing the dam on her orgasm and bladder. Quailing with the intensity her body expelled both of her fluids with, Harley bucked her hips against the air, riding out the waves of frenzied elation and gratifying release until she was completely and utterly drained, both physically and mentally.
Panting, Harley looked down at the puddle between her knees, staining the pink and white wide striped sheets and already growing disgustingly cold against her skin.
"See?" Joker said calmly. "Wasn't that fun?" Tilting his head to one side and shrugging, he added, "For me, I mean."
Pushing the mental image of kneeling in her own urine away from her mind, Harley smiled seductively at him and lowered her lashes before leaning towards him, her hands firmly planted on her thighs.
"How can I make it even more fun for you, Mister J?"
"Oh, you can't," the Joker said with a secretive smile, sitting up in the chair and leaning back away from her. She leaned over, closing the space between the bed and chair and placed her hands on his thighs, smiling up at him with those luscious ruby lips.
"I bet I could put a smile on your face if I really tried," she purred as she squeezed her left hand down his inner of his thigh, he fingers brushing carelessly against his erection.
"No, no, no, you misunderstand me," Joker replied calmly, his hands covering hers, caressing them as he smiled back down at her. "You can't." Grabbing her hands, he suddenly flipped her arms into the air as he scooted back in the chair, laughing as he watched her tumble to the floor. Looking up at him in confusion, Harley kept her place on the floor rather than dare risking his anger by lifting herself up all of the way. What had gone wrong? He seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in watching her masturbate...no, she knew he did. She had felt his excitement, his need. Why didn't he want her to take care of him?
"Well, it's been a thin slice of heaven Harleykins," said the Joker as he hoisted himself onto his feet with a groan, clearly trying to ignore his physically agitated state.
Her chest heaving in rising panic as she realized he meant to leave her, Harley's mind crashed against a wall of self-doubt and anxiety. Doesn't he want me? Did he ever really want me? Am I horrible and he was just being polite before now? Crawling on her belly, she snatched at the hem of his pant leg but missed.
"What have I done?" Harley whined in that grating baby voice. "Please tell me, Daddy."
Staring at his hand on the doorknob for several moments, the Joker looked down over his shoulder at her. The tears trickling down her heart shaped face, the pain and adoration in her big blue eyes, and the little hand tentatively reaching up to him in an act of absolution. Don't you see it, Harleygirl? You're doing it right now.
"Nothing in particular," he said quietly before leaving her, shutting the door behind him.
Resting his head against the door, Joker exhaled a deep breath he did not realize he had been holding. His sweating palm still clung to the doorknob, a single digit feeling the old fashioned keyhole. Would she try and come after him this time? He could never risk her following him...especially after that scene. Cry as she might every time he left her, and this time was no exception as he listened to the sweet lament of rejection and frustration from within, he knew instinctively she would not disobey the unspoken rule about the door remaining unlocked.
Entering the master bedroom, he had another infuriating bout of self-doubt and decided to lock that door. There. It wasn't just for Harley, of course, selfish brat. There were plenty of other people in the house that could bother him, after all, and he just could not be disturbed at the moment.
Violently wringing his wrists as he paced back and forth, the Joker tried to escape the memory of what had just transpired. Damn her; that little number was supposed to have been a punishment for her! Not an open invitation for his body to defect on him. You know, we're kind of, uh, cellmates here...we must learn the fine art of diplomacy. His body raged back at him, refusing to let him produce any sort of imagery that might have quieted down his burning desire to march back to the room and pound Harley through the urine soaked mattress.
And wasn't that an unsuspecting but highly delicious turn of events?
"Shut up!" Joker shouted at himself, his voice straining with a frenzied pitch. Clenching his fist and teeth as he curled into a squatting position, the Joker belted out a loud, guttural exclamation of raw rage and repressed lust. Falling on his bottom, he leaned against the foot of the bed, exhausted. "Fuck!"
What the hell was the point of any of that if she knew just what the hell I am up to once I left her room anyway? Uh, yes, but isn't the point that she isn't the one in here with me? Oh. Yes. It is. And can't I just imagine the look on her face when she knows I had a grand ol' time without her? That I did not need her? Why, yes...I think I can imagine that look of crushed disappointment on that Sweet. Little. Face of hers.
His shoulders began to shake with laughter as he leaned his head back against the bed and placed the heel of his hands against his eyes, sliding his hands down his face, smearing the red and black face paint he wore around the house. Rolling his eyes around in their sockets he suddenly remembered what this meant and quickly unfastened his pants, releasing his painfully hard erection and began to quickly jerk off. Teach that little harlot a lesson...maybe she'll think twice before prancing around in those darling - no, not darling! - vile little outfits...pert little butt sticking out... - tramp! Tramp! Tramp! - just begging to be spanked - no, hit. Smack. Pow! Bang! Right upside the bouncy blond brain. And choked. Choked until she's blue in the face, blue like a corpse, blue like her eyes...eyes full of tears - and love - shut up!
"Fucking bitch," he gasped, intending for the words to come out not as a pitiful squeak that he would pointedly ignore but a ferocious growl of malice and hate, the base for all of the emotions he bothered to feel. From the darkest depths of his mind did he ask himself, Why are you fighting this? You are punishing yourself here as well. No, not Me. BODY. She wants you, and you want her. RIGHT! WANT! Not need. She's Mine, all Mine, because I want her to be Mine. All Mine. Mine to Play like a fiddle and mine to Break into itty bitty pieces. Then what's the problem, Mr. Joker? I can have her anytime I damn well want to but she cannot have Me at her whim - her needs can't ever come before Mine. But what if they're one and the same?
Growling through gritted teeth as he came, he refused to even entertain an answer to these ludicrous thoughts, brought on by Harley and the invariable effect that came from dipping his hand in the cookie jar one too many times. Yes, that was it. Clearly! His naughty little strumpet was getting the better of his body, which was now compromising his thoughts. Well, he wasn't down for the count yet! She was wallowing in her own torment and guilt of having given herself pleasure before making sure he had been taken care of first, and now had to live with the knowledge that he could take care of himself - did! Take! Care! Of! Himself! - without His little Harleygirl.
Ha ha, joke's on you, baby.
End
NOTES:
- Thanks for reading!
- Yeah, I switch POV a lot but that's just how I write :/ I want to get in both of their heads. I want my cake and death! :D
- This scene takes place and is mentioned briefly in chapter 12 if you recall