A/N: This is a gift to my dear readers. Warning: sexually explicit content.

True Disaster

She is beautiful, he thinks, on her knees, looking up at him with a simply adoring look in her eyes. Her tongue runs across him in deadly patterns as she licks him slowly, from tip to base, and relishes in his sounds and groans.

With one hand on his hip, digging in gently and pressing her nails into the skin just the way he likes it, she adds more pressure and almost tips him over the edge. He groans as her nails turns into claws, leaving a pattern of red marks across his scarred skin.

He has made her, she is his greatest accomplishment. With plump lips and sharp teeth, she is stunning with dark bruises on her throat, those marks she wears with pride. Her eyes gleams; there is darkness in that baby blue, something ugly that matches his own. Something he has created. With messy hair around her flushing face, she is insatiable, with her body spread and wide open for him, wet and needy, aching for him. Violent, raw and honest in her desire. No pretense, nothing but intoxicating power.

He tilts his head to the side slightly, his fingernails still bloody after a recent murder. He watches her, never taking his eyes off her as she goes down onto him as deep as she can take it. He hums, his fingers entwining harshly in her hair and she almost chokes. The action makes him tense up, pressing his bruised knuckles into her scalp roughly, thrusting up his hips.

She pulls back to let her soft tongue caress his slit, dipping into the soft spot with force that makes his hips tremble. Even while sitting down on the edge of the bed, his knees almost buckles as she works. She chuckles softly, rubbing her tongue against the head.

He knows she is too influenced by his presence to ever think straight, her own arousal thick around them in the dimly lit room. Curtains drawn, they don't even know how they ended up like this. It could have been anywhere, against the brick wall in an alley or in the plush VIP seat of his club, he honestly wouldn't notice where it was; the moment she got her greedy hands on him through the fabric of his pants he lost all sense of reality.

With his hard cock deep down her throat, she reaches out her skillful tongue and licks the base of it, teasing his balls with flicks of her tongue. Her own excited giggles grow louder as she feels the warm wetness between her legs intensify. Nothing can compare to him in her mouth, choking her as he growls and pulls her hair.

A twisted moment of both handing the power over to her, while putting her in the ultimate submission. Yet, she has never felt more powerful. She can feel it in her very core; he is at her mercy, body trembling slightly. She aches for him to fill her throat up with his warm seed and she'll swallow it all.

Both her hands are on his hips now, sharp nails slamming into his skin and his entire body shudders. He comes hard with a low, out-drawn call of her name.

She loves it too, the way his face contorts, watching him through half-lidded eyes. How his mouth opens and eyes shut tightly, his low, guttural groan. When the blissful post-coital haze lifts from him, he sees her face streaked with his cum.

It always brings a slow, wicked smile to his face.

She knows that the knife is pressed to her throat, her life fluttering. The more she bares her neck, the more inclined he becomes to act on his instincts. A deadly game of cat and mouse, only she can't remember who is the predator. In front of him she is always on her knees. She does it for him, she belongs there, but he would kill everyone who ever thought of her being in such a position.

Now and then the king kneels for her, and when he does, she knows she is the queen of the universe.

She is the only one who has seen him in absolute abandon, she is the fitting royalty and the missing piece to his throne, she wears the heavy crown he placed on her head. Being with the king means lying down and offering your soul.

He pulls her up between his legs without a word and she straddles him. His lips collides with hers, but he pulls back when she reaches for him, impatience flickering in her eyes. His hands work beneath her short dress, grasping her hips possessively. Harley waits like she is supposed to, although he notices her patience slipping away rapidly – it's so fun to watch her break down. The lust is clouding her rational mind now, a strange light in her eyes he recognizes with a snicker.

She leans in for a kiss and he pecks her lips, just to lean back again with a stern expression. She goes back and forth by following his lead and fighting for her piece of power. The cuts and bruises from earlier are forgotten as his hands works on her hips. She rubs her wetness against him, they're almost touching and her heart is beating hard enough for him to feel it.

Yet, his self control is made of steel. Mostly.

"Please," she whispers in his ear and he puts on a hand hard around her throat to still her, his rings cold against her skin. She complies, but almost begs him. Almost. Eyes set on him, she works her tongue around her lips and leans closer.

"Come on, Daddy." Pushing him until he finally snaps, more, more, Harley's hands move up to his hair and pulls hard. He snarls, and then his hand leaves her throat and move down to her waist again, tightening around it with bruising force.

He widens his legs as she sinks down onto his throbbing cock, slowly. She starts moving her hips in slow, teasing movements. Up and down, her body trembling against his, he bares his teeth. Pressed flush against him, she flashes him a dark grin and picks up the pace.

He growls against her mouth, coaxing a breathy moan out of her. She rides him ferociously, violent and unhinged in her passion. When she loses it, she is thrilling to watch. J thrusts up against her, taking back his control, pressing down her hips to meet his. It's oddly exhilarating, his hard body against her soft one. She wraps her muscular legs around his hips and completely locks them together with force.

Then, J watches as she throws her head back and gasps loudly, a crazed smile on her face. He feels her nipples rubbing against his skin and he takes one of them in his mouth and bites hard, leaving another blue and red mark. At the pain, she seems to perch up. Her body clenches around him and he grunts, thrusting harder still. An endless chain reaction, they set each other off indefinitely.

She pushes down deeper onto his cock, holding him in a vice grip. They move harder, faster, he bites and sucks hard at every part of her skin he can reach and she jabs her nails into his skin, leaving gushing red marks across his back and arms. Every tinge of pain just makes him want to claim her more. It's wild, unruly and primal; they tumble down onto the floor in a heap of torn clothes and weapons. He watches the skin of her neck turn brownish-purple when he leaves a full teeth print and she pulls his hair roughly.

Eventually she reaches her end with a long, drawn-out moan as her head falls forward and their foreheads collide. She looks into his eyes right then and he knows he is not done with his little harlequin, no, no. He is going to exhaust her body until she can't move. She presses her chest against him, panting roughly for a few minutes, face pink.

Then, as she senses his heavy lust; her eyes brighten. Her tongue darts out to lick some leftover cum of the corner of her mouth, before leaning in. He kisses her back with bruising force. One of his hands draws up and closes around her throat again, long fingers dragging along the excited pulse point. How easy it would be to choke the life out of her. Sometimes he is tempted to act on that impulse, even more when she looks like this. She would make it so easy; she wants him to squeeze tighter.

The absolute power in the palm of his hand urges him on. His hand remains in place, but he doesn't push. In a flurry of blonde hair she leans down, running her hands down his ripped body. "Come on, Mr. J."

It's the boiling fever inside of her mind, scorching her, that drives her on and they burn together.

Growling, he stands up, still with her legs wrapped around his waist. She whispers in his ear, what she wants him to do to her. Her little teasing show goes on for several minutes, before he shoves her against the nearest wall.

The back of her head collides hard with the surface, making her vision blurry at the edges. A lazy grin on her face. "Don't hold back."

He throws her on the bed and is on top of her a moment later, pulling her up by her hips and roughly shoving himself in. Her spine arches up and she giggles through her teeth. She wriggles against him, smearing more lipstick on his neck as he pushes her head down. He covers her body with his, pushing deep into her in forceful thrusts.

She wraps her legs forcefully around his slim hips, urging him on with crazed laughter, cooing and laughing out. Her nails aggressively shove into his skin, and he pumps into her harder. She throws her head back, sometimes letting out a moan just to feel him stiffen further, mostly just talking out loud to him, her nails burying in his green tresses. It's hard and rough, unforgiving and vicious, and it's was she wants.

With all the energy bundling up and focusing into a hard knot in the bottom of her stomach, Harley screams out loud as the orgasm hits her, her entire lower body convulsing and twitching. He fucks her hard, his hips brutally snapping into her.

He is so close, his body and mind in perfect tune with hers. It's the best feeling in the world, a rush, a trip to a place that spins with fluttering strong colors, like the inside of a kaleidoscope – she sees all the dizzying patterns on the inside of her eyelids. Still pounding her, he leans down and captures her bottom lip in his mouth, biting until her lip splits and she tastes blood. Instinctively she clenches around him, he drives into her and comes hard with a groan, spurting into her.

She arches her back, pressing their bruised chests together, accepting everything he gives her, spreading her legs wider. He rocks into her as he rides out his orgasm, still throbbing inside of her.

Afterwards his violent energy often dissolves; he burns out for a while. He lies down on top of her, covering her body with his own. She is still breathless, mildly rousing all kinds of desires in him but he lazily decides to put them off for another time. She looks at him with satisfaction in her eyes, her usual clarity temporarily dimmed by tiredness.

After a while they settle down in the messy bed, among stained dark sheets, covered by their mixed fluids. He holds her close; his fingers absently moving over the bite marks and bruises he inflicted earlier. It's satisfying to know how he brands her and claims her and shapes her in new ways every day. She takes new forms; it's the most fascinating part of it all. Always under his heavy influence, she resembles him.

Only sometimes, he notices that she leaves imprints on him too, something he can't shake off. At moments like this, heartbeats settling down, tracing the tattoos and scars he's given her, there is something about her he can't define but it's pulling him in. A disaster, of the worst and most stunning kind.

She is talking quietly against the nape of his neck, maybe to the voices, maybe to him, it's cooing nonsense. A part of him knows that she created herself, with only a little push from him as help.

And what a masterpiece she became.

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A/N: Reviews are always welcome!