JxHQ: I Can't Quit You
WARNING: Sexually explicit situations
And you say that I’m the devil you know, and I don’t disagree
No, I don’t see the harm
They say: “You crazy, just leave him, he’ll suffocate you”
But I wanna be in your arms
They say, “No, don’t pick up the phone, let them think there’s nobody home”
But I’m under your spell
‘Cause when you call my heart starts to roll
I always want more
It’s my heaven, my hell
We’re heading deep
Inside lives a voice, a voice so quiet
But I can’t hear that voice when your heart beats next to mine
I can’t quit you, I know I’m gonna regret it — Ariana Grande
It’s something completely draining. Both mentally and physically.
Relationships were never, ever, The Joker’s strong suit. He’d played around with women when he was younger and no sense barely, but even now it was rare for him to actually even be attracted to anything resembling a relationship.
And Harleen had struggled with the same thing.
They both realized they were never good at relationships. Joker came to the conclusion when he murdered his last significant other for trying to be controlling. Harleen accepted she was never going to ever settle down when she threw a whole stack of glass plates at her last boyfriend for lying to her.
But they couldn’t think back to those times as they stated at each other in the dim, firelight of his penthouse.
She was on a couch, fiddling with a small cross necklace her grandmother had given her when she was little.
Everyday she wore it, trying to cling to whatever sanity was left after she and Joker had started their little scandal.
She was still considered a doctor. His doctor. But she sure as hell didn’t feel like it anymore. There was far too much between them for her to just be his doctor at this point, and they both knew it.
Joker sat across the living room, leaning back in a chair, glass of scotch in one hand, cigar in the other.
He was still trying to think of how the hell to get out of the hole he’d been digging. He had the woman wrapped around his finger and now he was conflicted. If he stayed and let things continue on, people would talk. They’d say he’s getting weak. Going soft. He’s settling down. But if got rid of her, he couldn’t get his fix. And nothing, and no one, truly satisfied his hunger quite like her.
They both knew it wasn’t love, it was something beyond love. Something far more possessive and dominant. Something completely selfish and demanding. It needed the presence of the other in order to be at peace. In order to calm each other’s demons. It was too mean to let the other breathe. And far too poisonous to be love.
Obsession. Addiction. Possession. Pure, unadulterated lust.
Not just physically, but emotionally.
They were both in denial of it actually being that serious, she knew she could lose everything for feeling so strongly for him, and he knew he was too damned mean to be that serious with another woman.
They pretended that it was just for sex.
That She came over to his penthouse in the middle of the night some times seeking “counsel” and “advice” for certain elements in her life, just because she knew their conversation would end in her against a wall and him buried to the hilt in her.
That he showed up in the most random places to check up on her because he just had to make sure his fuck buddy wasn’t going to go anywhere.
But deep down, she knew she went to him for advice because she valued every word of wisdom he could give her, and she genuinely enjoyed talking to him. Despite if they ended the night in sex or not. She just wanted to be in his presence.
And he knew that he really checked up on her because he worried. He worried she would leave him and his pride would wither.
They calmed each other, they couldn’t get enough of each other. He fascinated her and she intrigued him.
So they sat. Staring at each other in dead silence.
She waited as he finished his drink before she spoke up.
“You haven’t said a word to me all night.”
He looks at her, his brows a little raised.
How dare she interrupt his silence? His peace? Just her voice made his entire mind peel back layer by layer.
He narrowed his eyes, rolling his jaw before forming a fist around his glass.
“I’m thinking.” He replied with sharply and she nodded gently. “Well, I was.” He gets up, flustered. “Until your loud-ass voice interrupted it.”
“Oh, fuck you.” She shot back.
Every now and then, when tension between them really built up, when they both questioned themselves and each other, it boiled over. And this was one of those times.
“You already have, dumb-ass.” He slammed the glass down and she rolled her eyes.
“Just forget it, then.” She snapped a look at him. “Fucking forget about it and go to bed.”
“Don’t fucking talk to me like I’m your fucking bitch.” He barked and she felt her nerves itch with anxiety. “Fucking telling me to go to bed.” He grumbled under his breath, slamming things about. “You go the fuck to bed, bitch.” He ground his teeth together and she groaned a loud before getting up and stomping to the bedroom door. “The hell are you going? Did I fucking tell you, you could fucking get up? Sit the fuck down.” He stepped to her and she looked at him in surprise.
“You just said go to bed.” She argued.
“So now you’re arguing?” He came closer and she was at a loss for words.
“You told me to!” She raised her voice and he grabbed her jaw harshly, gently shoving her into the wall behind them.
“Don’t fucking raise your god damned voice at me again or you’re leaving.” His voice was gravel and she scoffed, shoving him off her.
“Bye. Fucking bipolar bastard.” She grabbed her things. “Tired of fucking staying here anyway.” She stepped to the door and he grabbed her wrist tightly. “Fucking get off me!” She snatched away, stumbling back a little.
“You’re not fucking leaving me.” He said through gritted teeth.
“You better let go of me or I’m calling the cops.” She threatened and he cocked his head.
“And tell them what? Huh? You been humping me every night for the past month? Cause if you get them over here, I’ll tell them exactly that. Don’t think I won’t, you little brat.” His words were venom and she felt her blood rushing through her as adrenaline shot through her.
“I’m done with you.” She shook her head, trying to convince herself of it, more.
He laughed, making a chill roll down her spine.
“You’re not done with me until I say so.” He towered over her.
“I’m fucking leaving.” She spit at him and shoved him away again, this time when her hand grabbed the door knob, he let her go.
She got half way down the stairs of the building before she felt her heart ache.
He was drinking some more when she pounded on the door.
He knew it was her, because she always changed her mind.
The second he opened the door, she slammed it shut and attacked him.
Her legs wrapped around him as her lips and tongue and teeth tormented his. They both groaned, melting into one another.
He stepped to the kitchen and set her down on the counter before she started tearing at his belt.
His teeth bit at her neck and she arched into him, moaning out his name.
Her nails were biting into his shoulders as she pushed his shirt off of him and kissed his chest.
His large hands gripped her thighs, shoving her tight skirt up her legs so he could get easy access to what he craved most at the moment.
Her hands fumbled to get him out of his pants and when he was freed she immediately grabbed him, running her hand up and down his shaft.
“Ah, fuck.” He breathed out and she spread her legs more for him.
He looked down at her, his jaw slackened at the sight of her glistening sex.
Without even thinking anymore, he shoved himself into her, not paying any mind to her sharp intake of breath from the slight discomfort for a moment.
It always took her a moment to adjust to him, but even that didn’t stop him from railing into her the second he slid in.
She shouted curses, his name, everything in between.
At some point her shirt had come off, along with her bra and his teeth sunk into the flesh of her breast, only adding to her pleasure.
The sounds of their flesh hitting rattled throughout the apartment and she laid back on the cold counter top, mumbling profanities as he pushed her legs farther apart and grabbed her thighs so hard it would leave bruises.
Soon enough his fingers fell to her clit, and she couldn’t handle it anymore.
Her back arched, her eyes squeezed closed and she clawed at the marble counter as she convulsed around him.
He didn’t give her time to bounce back before he grabbed her and turned her over bending her over the counter.
He grabbed a handful of her hair at the root and yanked on it as he pushed back into her.
“Fuck!” She squealed as he pounded into her.
She felt her legs starting to give way and heard a low growl emit from his chest.
“Keep your fucking legs open.” He told her darkly and she moaned again, her hand going to his that was gripping her hip, spreading her legs even more for him.
His forehead rested on the back of her neck as he continued his assault in her.
“Whose is this?” He asked her, and she bit her lip, her eyes shut tightly.
“It’s yours.” She breathed out. “It’s all yours.”
“So this is mine, isn’t it?” His fingers fell to that bundle of nerves again and she squeaked a little, her forehead hitting the counter as she tried to keep quiet.
“Fuck, yes.” She cried.
He picked up his pace and went harder at her, making her hiss in a little pain but almost pass out from the pleasure.
Within a few more minutes, she went over the edge again, and he finished as well.
They both hit the kitchen floor with shaking limbs and tired, deep breaths.
“I hate you.” He laughed without humor suddenly and she stared at the ceiling.
“I hate you, too.” She admitted.
They weren’t necessarily sure if they truly hated each other or not, or just the fact that it was going to be fucking impossible to stop what they had started.