This oneshot is based on the Joker and Harley Quinn in Suicide Squad (2016 movie). I'm going as Harley Quinn for halloween, so I felt a little inspired to write this.

Warnings: "Daddy" kink, slight knife play, blah blah it's Joker and Harley we know they're sadistic.

Enjoy.

"Come on, Puddin'! I've been waitin' forever."

Mr. J rolled his eyes, leaning back against the leather seats of the couch in his VIP room.

He'd been handling business all night, and Harley was ready to leave. It'd been almost two weeks of business with Mr. J, and she was feeling sorely neglected.

"I've still got things to do here. Entertain yourself. Better yet," he said, glancing up at her briefly before pointing out to her cage and all the people around it, waiting for her, "Go entertain them."

She narrowed her eyes at him - not that he noticed - and turned on her heel. If her Puddin' wouldn't pay her any attention, she knew there were lines of people who couldn't wait to take his place.

Not that she was delusional enough to think any of them would ever actually take his place. She just wanted to piss him off, because she was pissed off.

She made her way back to the cage, grabbing the golden chain that hung in the middle and spinning on it, her hips swaying to the music. This was her element. Using her body to her advantage was one of many skills she possessed.

Harley knew that Mr. J was watching her. Though he'd hardly touched her over the past few weeks, his eyes hardly left her. If he was one thing, it surely wasn't maniacal or insane - it was possessive. He wanted her to know that she belonged to him. The many tattoos he'd placed on her body were proof enough, but he didn't stop there.

Everyone in Gotham knew that she was his, and anyone stupid enough to fuck with her was dead. It was as simple as that.

It was surely the only simple thing about their relationship.

Her eyes scanned the crowd of men watching her, trying to find her victim.

Bingo.

The man was tall and muscular with deep brown eyes and curly blonde hair that hung in them. He held her stare, daring to smirk at her, and she knew he was her mark.

Continuing to dance - and pointedly ignoring her Joker - she made her way from the cage, hanging onto the bar from the outside she beckoned him forward, and he didn't hesitate.

"You wanna play with me?" she asked, swaying her body against the metal bars as she looked down at him.

Her short gold dress left little to the imagination, and it didn't take long for the man to reach his hand out to help her from the platform. She accepted, glancing over to Mr. J only to find him talking with some other drug dealer. With a new determination she led the man to a set of seats that were still in clear view of her Puddin' - if he chose to look.

Harley pushed the man down, her nails trailing over his chest as she leaned forward, body still moving to the music in a way only she could.

"What would Mr. J think about this?" he asked, his eyes hooded as he looked at her.

She held back her giggle at his stupidity. He actually thought he had a chance at doing anything with her. If Mr. J didn't kill him first, she surely would.

This man was here for her entertainment, not the other way around.

She placed one knee on the seat beside his thigh, her hands on his shoulders for support as she licked a line up his neck, "Is my Puddin' really what you wanna talk about right now, sugar?"

The man grunted, his hands moving to grasp her waist, but she avoided him, quickly spinning her body to the beat so she faced away from him, grinding her ass down onto his lap for a moment before standing again.

She knew her Joker hated when she gave private dances, and she hoped his blood would boil if he saw her. God she prayed he's see her, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of turning to check.

Instead she focused on the man sitting in front of her and began to really let loose to the music. Her hands trailed across her hips, over her breasts, to her neck where she tangled her hands in her hair before spinning around and bending at the waist in front of him. The move gave him a clear view of her dark purple panties for a moment before she stood again and made her way back over to him.

She straddled his waist this time, licking from the hollow of his throat up to just below his ear where she whispered, "Do you like what you see?"

"Who wouldn't?" he asked, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss her, but she was faster.

She pulled a small blade - one that her Puddin' had gotten engraved special for her - from the strap on her thigh and pressed the sharp metal to the mans throat, a wild smile on her face.

"No touching the goods, sugar."

He cracked a smirk, eyeing her body, "You're fucking crazy."

At that there was the all too familiar laugh of her Puddin' behind them.

"You don't even know the half of it." he said, his painted lips upturned in a horrifying smile that sent tingles up Harley's spine.

Oh, her Puddin' sure was mad.

The man's eyes widened as he looked between the two of them, Harley's knife still firmly pressed against his throat, though she made no move to get up.

"M-Mr. J, I swear this isn't -"

"Shh," cooed Harley, removing the blade from his neck to trail her tongue across the sharp edge, "Don't you wanna play with me? Mistah J doesn't ever wanna play anymore."

"Harley," said Mr. J, his tone even and cold as he narrowed his eyes at the man she was currently straddling. He could feel his blood boiling, hear the pounding of his heart in his ears. His vision blurred red and for a moment, just a moment, he wanted to shoot both of them.

He'd never kill his Harley, though. He'd rather kill himself.

She sighed dramatically, turning her head to look at him, wide blue eyes pouty, "What? You told me to entertain. I'm entertaining. Go away."

Harley knew she was pushing her luck and Mr. J was liable to blow her head off along with everybody else in this club, but for some reason she'd had enough. He was always putting her second and she refused to sit by and let him do it any longer. If he wanted her, he was going to have to fight for it.

Before Harley could continue dancing, the man had a bullet between his eyes.

Harley half-screamed as she stood from the now-dead man's lap to glare at her Joker.

"What gives?"

Mr. J narrowed his eyes at her, cracking his neck before walking toward her. When he stood directly in front of her he slapped her before grabbing her chin so she was forced to look at him.

"You are mine, Harley Quinn. Don't you ever fucking forget that."

"Seems like you're the one who forgot, Puddin'." she said, a grin on her face as she trailed her fingertips over her stinging cheek, "That's the most action you've shown me in weeks."

The hand on her chin went to her throat, pushing her back against the wall as he growled against her ear, "I left a very important meeting to come down here for you. Behave yourself." The pressure on her throat increased for a moment as he met her stare, glaring at her, but sooner than later he released her, turning immediately and heading back to his VIP section.

Harley was left gasping against the wall, her left hand resting lightly against her throat as she imagined the pressure of his hand there again. If her Puddin' had tried to dull the flames in her belly he'd certainly failed. If anything she wanted him more than ever now.

But she certainly wasn't going to sit and wait for him to finish his business. She was going home.

Harley waved to one of Joker's goons, motioning for him to handle the dead body, before she wove her way from the club. Once she was on the curb outside she looked around. She needed a way home.

Bingo.

When Mr. J arrived back at the warehouse they were currently staying at, he saw a bright red Porsche out front, and it did little to quell his anger. He hadn't told her to leave, so why the fuck had she left?

He pushed open the front door, dropping his coat on one of the chairs before making his way upstairs. His goons stayed downstairs and out of his way, while he and Harley spent most of their time on the upper floor.

He pushed open the door to their bedroom and found Harley sprawled out on the bed. Her hair, to his delight, wasn't in pigtails, instead splayed across the pillow under her head. The clothing she wore was the same as from the club, only now she wore the purple leather cuffs he'd given her that read 'YES' and 'SIR' in gold lettering and a tiny scrap of purple lace that covered her heated core.

Mr. J had to bite back a groan at the sight of her, his eyes lingering on her pert breasts, her prominent hipbones, her long, toned legs - god she was perfect.

Made for him.

"Why the fuck did you leave?" he asked, loosening his tie as he walked toward her.

She smiled, moving to the edge of the bed to rest on her knees, "You just make me so hot, Mistah J...I didn't know what to do with myself."

She could see the bulge in his pants, a clear indicator that regardless of the games she'd been playing, he was very much into it.

"I came back and tried to ease the tension...but your fingers are so much better than mine, Puddin'." she purred, tugging him to stand in front of her by his tie.

Her Joker was never one to be outdone, though. His fingers wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing as his other hand went to her lower back, holding her to him as he growled in her ear, "You know I don't like anyone else touching that pretty little cunt of yours, Harley."

"I'm sorry, Daddy." she whispered, the heat in her stomach threatening to blow her up from the inside out.

The hand on her throat tightened, and though she could still breathe it wasn't necessarily easy.

"Do you think I like working, Harls?" he asked, voice low as he spoke at her ear. "Do you think I like not being able to pet this pretty, pretty kitty?"

The hand he had on her back moved lower, his long, slender fingers finding their way to her already dripping pussy.

Harley gasped, not expecting the sudden intrusion, but welcoming it none the less. This is what she'd been waiting for.

"I dunno, Puddin'." she panted, one hand resting on his shoulder to keep her balance. "You don't seem to mind."

He snarled, his fingers working against her cunt rougher, his teeth nipping at her neck hard enough to bruise - and god Harley loved every second of his domination.

"Let's be clear, Pumpkin," he punctuated the pet name with a particularly deep thrust, his fingers curving to hit that perfect spot that had her arching into him, "If there's one place I'd like to be, it's buried in your tight cunt."

Harley giggled at his words, her orgasm approaching rapidly as his fingers played her body perfectly. He knew just how to touch her.

"So you understand why the idea of some filthy pig touching you," he growled, his thrusts harsh and punishing against her dripping pussy as the hand around her neck tightened to almost painful, "Makes me pretty...fucking crazy."

He felt her body start to tense and he groaned. The sight of her coming undone because of him - there was nothing better. No perfectly executed heist, no Batman killing plot, no shooting rampage - nothing. Nothing was better.

"I'm...sorry...Puddin'." she gasped, trying to speak as her orgasm began ripping through her.

"You should be." he snarled, his fingers never slowing, never giving her even a moment of reprieve until she had stopped shaking against him.

He pulled his fingers from her, shoving her back onto the bed as he removed his tie and began unbuttoning his deep purple dress shirt, slowly exposing his tattoos to her hungry eyes.

"I just -"

"Shut up." he said, moving so that he sat on her upper thighs, his throbbing cock pressed against her wet cunt, his weight keeping her pinned to their mattress. He studied her for a moment, his silver eyes intense as he drank her in.

His. His. His. His. His.

He slid his hand to her thigh, taking the knife he knew she kept there and flashing it in front of her face with a wicked smile.

"I think you've been a very...very bad girl."

As he spoke he trailed the tip of the blade down between her breasts, circling first one, then the other nipple with the sharp point. A wicked grin broke across his face as goosebumps spread across her body and her breathing intensified.

"Please, Mistah J." she murmured, a small trail of blood on her chin from having bitten her lip too hard at his teasing.

"Do you want me to hurt you, Harls?" he asked, his voice a low, rumbling growl as he trailed the knife down the smooth skin of her stomach, resting it just above her Lucky You tattoo, exposed by how he'd thrown her to the bed.

"Anything. Anything, Puddin', just touch me." she begged, the sound music to his ears.

He laughed, the sound sharp as he pressed the blade to her left hip, "You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you, Harls?"

"You know I would." she said, arching her hip up into the blade, the sharp edge nicking her skin enough that a small drop of blood bloomed across her ivory skin, causing her to shut her eyes at the sensation.

The truth was, Joker would let her do anything to him as well. She had his heart, that much they both knew.

"Naughty girl." he purred, moving off her so he could settle between her legs, the blade immediately pressed to her hip again.

She closed her eyes, welcoming the familiar pain of being branded by him. She drank in every moment of it, and by the time he tossed her blade off the bed she was a panting mess.

He pressed harsh kisses and bites to her inner thighs before roughly attacking her cunt through the thin material of her panties. The sudden action had Harley arching against him, one hand tangling in his hair, the other digging into his shoulder.

"Oh - Puddin'!" she moaned, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck her into their bed until she really was crazy.

As if he read her mind, he pulled his own knife from his pants, running the cool metal along her inner thigh before cutting through the lace and ridding her of the offending material.

Harley couldn't even be annoyed that he'd ruined yet another pair of her underwear, because no sooner were her panties gone, his mouth returned to her clit, flicking the nub with his tongue. He pressed her thighs to the bed, giving a harsh nip to her clit when she attempted to close her legs.

Joker worked her furiously, spurred on by her loud moans and the way her nails scraped his scalp and drew blood on his shoulders. She knew he liked getting it just as rough as he gave it when it came to her.

Her thighs began to shake against his hands, making him chuckle, "Are you gonna come for Daddy, baby?"

The fingers of one hand had taken over teasing her clit, his tongue lightly tracing her dripping entrance as she began murmuring a string of curses.

Just as her orgasm slammed into her, he slid two fingers into her pulsing cunt, immediately angling his fingers to stroke her g-spot roughly. The slight sting of his rough handling had her gasping and clawing at his shoulders and upper back, unable to catch her breath from the delirious mix of pain and pleasure he was forcing upon her body.

"Mistah J...oh god...I can't." she begged, her entire body tensing as another intense orgasm wracked her small frame.

"I'm the only man who gets to touch you." he growled, leaning up to bite the delicate skin of her neck, "And I'll be damned if you ever forget that I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, you crazy bitch."

She squealed, his utter domination of her was thrilling. She'd missed this. Missed him.

He sat up, quickly ridding himself of his shirt and his belt, before grabbing the material of Harley's dress and yanking her into a sitting position. He wasted no time pulling the sparkly material off her, finally revealing her naked body to his hungry eyes.

Regardless of what Harley thought, Joker had missed this time with her.

Without waiting for his permission, Harley leaned forward, her small hands making quick work of his pants, pushing them down his legs and leaving him in only a pair of boxers.

Before she could touch him again, he slapped her hand away, choosing instead to free himself from his boxers. He returned to the bed, taking his hard cock in his hand as he watched her. She eyed him hungrily, her eyes begging because she knew if she spoke she'd surely just anger him.

"Come here."

She understood, moving eagerly to take his hard length into her mouth. He didn't allow her to set the rhythm for very long, though. Instead he threaded one hand through her hair, forcing her down hard enough that she couldn't breathe, suffocating on his thick cock.

He knew she loved when he did this.

He bobbed her head rapidly, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat with every thrust, while her nails dug into his hips, supporting herself.

Abruptly he pushed her away, a wide grin splitting his face as he looked down at her, roughly pushing his bright green hair from his face.

"I noticed you didn't let him touch you."

Harley nodded, leaning back so she rested on her elbows, "I'd never let anyone but you touch me, Puddin'. Besides, I was just pissed that you weren't paying any attention to me."

Joker laughed, his head tilted back in typical fashion before he responded, "Well, Harls, I'm about to show you plenty of attention."

Her stomach clenched at his words, and she couldn't help her sharp giggle from erupting, filling the otherwise quiet warehouse with noise.

Mr. J moved over her, his hard length pressing against her inner thigh as he attacked her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, before finally crushing his lips to hers. It was a mess of teeth and tongues and sooner or later they both tasted blood, though who's it was they didn't know.

His lipstick was smeared, surely covering a majority of her body, but she couldn't care less. Any mark from him was sacred to her.

"Please, Mistah J." she whined, her fingers tugging on the strands of his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

He growled against her, harshly seating himself in her wet heat and immediately beginning to move.

"Oh god!" moaned Harley, her back arching from the bed at the sudden, brutal pace.

This was how he loved her. Completely. Passionately. All consumingly.

In moments like this it was hard to know where his madness ended and hers began. It all seemed to run together in a jumbled mess of sweaty limbs and murmured words. Things he'd only ever say to her. Things she'd never tell another soul for as long as she lived. This time with him - just with him - was everything.

He was her everything. She'd said that she would live for him, and she fully intended to do that, firmly seated at his side.

She was his other half, and no matter how irritating he sometimes found her, if anyone dared even try to take her, they'd face worse than death at his own hands. He was the King of Gotham and she was his Queen.

His fingers were digging into her thighs hard enough that she knew his fingerprints would be there, purple in the morning and she couldn't wait. All these little marks Mr. J left on her body - especially the ones that were only where they could see - meant the world to her.

She bit into his shoulder, the sharp metallic taste hitting her tongue as he continued to pound all of his frustration, all of his anger, all of his lust, all of his being into her.

Before she could tumble headfirst into another orgasm he pulled out of her, flipping her over and seating himself inside her in one smooth thrust. He took a handful of her hair in his fist, pulling back hard enough that her scalp tingled and she released a sharp moan.

"Please, please, please," she begged, "Please fuck me harder, Puddin'."

He simply grunted, slamming his hips against hers even more forcefully. It wasn't long before he felt her walls fluttering around her, and the constant stream of moans and curses that flew from her lips was simply confirmation that she was close to falling over the edge.

"Come on, Harley." he groaned, his lips at her ear as the hand in her hair snaked down between her thighs, stroking her clit in quick circles. "Come for Daddy."

At his command she came, pulling him over the edge with her.

Sooner than later he pulled away from her, laying down on his back to stare up at the ceiling, a small, slightly deranged smile on his face.

"I love you, Puddin'." she said softly, rolling onto her side to look at him.

He rolled his eyes, but tugged her to rest on his chest, his hand stroking her back.

"I love you too, Harls...even though you're a giant pain in my ass."