Joker X Harley Novels & Stories

Even though he had given me ‘The Talk’ when we were eleven about never even thinking about hurting her or he’d use the sword given by his grandfather, I was grinning from ear to ear when he shook my hand and told me to take care of her. Halloween passed with me and Kiara as Joker and Harley Quinn because she adored both of them and I agreed mainly because of two reasons: a) who doesn't love Harley Quinn?; b) I wanted to see Kiara in black mini shorts with fishnet stockings and a tight white tank top. It was needless to say that we left the party early and had mind-blowing roleplay sex.

Xavier knew about Rhett and had clearly got access to his apartment somehow. Probably with Rhett’s permission. Knowing Rhett, he probably had heard all about Xavier’s original game in Miami and thought it would be funny. “This is you.” Rhett put the card in his hand. “You’re a fucking Joker. You know that, right?” He turned the card over and took in the sleek design. It was thick and more of a lightweight metal that was so thin it mimicked paper. “What does a Joker symbolize?” Jax asked. “You know I’m not a card player like you.”

“You’re pulling that card?” “Yes. Get her to safety and stay with her.” “Fuck.” Harley spun away and marched toward the door. “You don’t play fair.” “Put on some pants first,” Moon called out. The idea of Joy seeing so much of Harley didn’t sit well with him. What if she found him more sexually appealing? The concept alone had him ready to call Harley back. He didn’t say anything though and lay still.

It was him. The man was standing by a black Harley-Davidson, his helmet tucked under one muscular arm. Even in a low-quality photo, Jax looked like a god of war. The sharp, Greek-god jawline, the broad shoulders that seemed to swallow the light, and those dark, piercing eyes.

All with crossing lines—except one: Harley’s face. “The last knight on the board. But the only one who can kill the king,” Hideko grinned. — Harley stood silently. His mind drifted, replaying moments with Jonathan spinning in his head like an endless movie. “You’re not a hero. But you once saved me… in your own way,” Harley said softly, with a melancholy tone. “I will finish this. For Edgar. For Jonathan. And… for myself. Too many victims have fallen because of me and all these problems.”

“You’re giving me orders?” “Moon had strong feelings for her.” Harley didn’t back down. “He’s like a brother to me. We all care but I know him best.” He paused, glancing at Joy, then back at Justice. “We’re going to have to keep him heavily sedated at all times if he doesn’t come back from what was done to him. He’s too lethal in his current condition to even be set free in the Wild Zone. Hell, I’m sure we can also agree that every male would prefer to be kept in a near coma than put the rest of our people in danger. She did get him to talk and he released her the second they were alone. He didn’t want to kill her.”

I liked them experienced women who knew how to move and didn't need their hands held. ​I forced my eyes away, snapping a sharp signal to one of my boys. I didn't have time for this. I didn't have time for her. I was here for the cash that had been missing for three months, and I wasn't leaving without it.Jax emerged from the shadows of the back hallway, his hand knotted in the collar of a man who looked like he’d already given up on living. He dragged the miserable idiot toward the center of the room, the man’s boots scuffing uselessly against the grime-slicked floor. I moved to meet them halfway, my own pace slow, predatory, and certain. ​The moment we collided, I didn't waste breath on wor

Hector says as he holds him by the arm. The man looks down at his arm, making Hector retreat his hand quickly. "My name is Hunter Black. Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack of the North. You enslaved my sister. I am only here to take her back. Your death and the downfall of your pack are not of my concern." he says, making Alpha Hector DiMarco's eyes widen in shock.

My ribs screamed with every breath—courtesy of Derek's boots three nights ago in that motel parking lot outside Tucson. "You cannot run forever, Jenna," he had said, his voice cold as winter. "I will find you again." But I had run. Again. A rumble split the air. Deep. Mechanical. The kind that made your bones vibrate. I lifted my head and saw them. Six motorcycles rolling down Main Street like they owned it. Leather. Chrome. The devil's head patch on their backs—red eyes, fangs bared. Devil's Reign MC. My blood turned to ice.

Our booth stopped, and he stepped out while holding his hand out to me. I took a shaky breath and stepped out. I was a little embarrassed to check if my skirt was wet from my juices, but I shook my head. It wouldn't matter. It was worth it. "How was your first ride experience?" Jack asked as we walked over to his brother and his ex. "Perfect. It was perfect, Jack."