Work Text:
Solitude.
It was a concept that Ivy had found herself mulling over as she went through her daily routine. Maintaining a botanical garden’s worth of plant life in a 500 square foot living space required a lot of busywork, but also left a lot of time for reflection.
Sequestered up in the sunroom of her new apartment and warmed by the late afternoon sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Ivy pondered the word. Solitude. It had always been a source of comfort, a natural companion to her golden rule; isolation equals safety. She’d clung to the idea nearly all her life, an immovable object in her understanding of the world.
That is, until it had met an unstoppable opposing force.
“HONEY, I’M HOOOOOOME!”
Lips quirking, Ivy lowered the ghost orchid she’d been pruning. “Sorry little guy. Guess that’s all for today,” she said before placing it in its humidity dome.
“Let me see…” Tapping her phone screen with one hand, she began elbowing shut drawers and stowing vials and test-tubes of formulae with the other. The main reason she’d picked this apartment was the spacious sunroom; adding a few benches, shelves, and trellises had turned it into a serviceable greenhouse laboratory. It wasn’t quite Si’s old place, but it beat the hell out of Harley’s abandoned mall.
“What do we think?” she asked a cluster of camellia hybrids. “Thai, or pizza?” She waited a second or two and then said, “Okay, but I’m blaming you guys if she doesn’t like it.”
She gave the phone a final tap before putting it away and giving the greenhouse a once-over. Satisfied that she’d tidied the worst of the mess, she headed downstairs. The plants adorning every non-essential surface bent towards her as she moved, vibrating with frissons of excitement.
The subject of their enthusiasm was sitting on the counter of the open-plan kitchen, legs dangling as she kicked off her Chucks and leaned forward to peer at a row of potted saplings on the dining table opposite her. Her hair was lightly tousled, but Ivy detected no signs of hurt; no bumps or bruises or cuts. Good.
A floorboard creaked when Ivy stepped on it, and Harley’s head shot up and her face split into a sunny grin. “Hey Ive!”
“Hey babe. How was crime?”
“A rousing success!” Harley pulled two oversized duffels stuffed with bills out from under the counter and threw them next to the saplings. “The crew and I knocked over one of Oswald’s old casinos. Some mooks were running some kind of racket out of it. Extortion, or launderin’, or somethin’. I don’t know. Babs had all the details. All I know is, there were assholes that needed to be taken down.” Harley picked up her bat and swung it at an imaginary foe.
“And a hell of a payday,” said Ivy, peering into a duffel.
“And a hell of a fuckin’ payday!”
“I can’t believe you’re teaming up with Babs again.”
“It’s a good balance, Ive. Some hero stuff, some heistin’. Enough brownie points to keep Gordo off our backs and some ill-gotten loot to keep as a bonus! What did you get up to?”
“Oh, you know. The usual. Tidying. Coming up with new hybrids. Re-potting some citruses.” Ivy tenderly re-orientated a sapling before refocusing on one of the duffels. She grabbed a handful of bills. “Won’t the GCPD want this as evidence?”
“Yep, probably!”
Ivy chuckled. Seclusion was great, but all the same, she’d missed Harley. There was something compelling about the way the pint-sized maelstrom could fill a space with her energy. Ivy suspected that she was addicted to the chaos.
Especially when said chaos was so damn endearing. Harley was beaming at Ivy like she’d won some kind of prize. As if it wasn’t Ivy who was the one absolutely winning at life with their newly budded relationship.
Almost without thinking, she drifted between Harley’s legs, resting her hands on her thighs before running them up her sides.
“Oh,” Harley breathed. Her skin was hot under Ivy’s palms. That had surprised Ivy the first few times she had touched Harley post-acid bath. Harley’s bleached skin looked like it should be cold and smooth, like marble. But it was anything but. It was soft and warm and very alive. Ivy was accustomed to feeling the life coursing through plants, connected to the Green in a way she’d never felt with people. But she also felt it when she touched Harley.
And Ivy was discovering that she was a plant that very much enjoyed that life-giving heat, was drawn to it like a flower following the sun. Bringing her hands up to tangle in Harley’s hair, she leaned in and drew her into a soft, deep kiss.
Harley’s hands flew to her shoulders and returned the kiss with enthusiasm, breaking it with a sly nip of Ivy’s lower lip.
“Hi,” she whispered
“Hey,” responded Ivy. “Missed you today.”
“Aw. You’ve got your plants. And Frank.”
“They’re not you.”
Ivy had spent nearly a decade living life on the wrong side of the law, and the most criminal thing she’d ever encountered was how cute Harley could look when she was truly happy. Like now, kicking her legs and tilting her head to treat Ivy with her biggest grin. “Maybe you should come out hero-heistin’ with me next time. We can be hot crime girlfriends.”
“I thought I was banned from helping you.”
“Only until I learn how to clean up my own messes. And I’m getting better at that, so…”
It was true. Harley was doing her best to curb some of her more impulsive decision-making. When Harley went in on something, she had a tendency to go all in. Her transformation from Dr. Harleen Quinzel to her current self. Her hair-brained schemes. Her relationship to the Joker. It was something of a reocurring character flaw.
Over the years, Ivy had hardened her heart to Harley’s poor decision-making so much that it had taken her a while to accept that Harley was all in on their relationship, too. And part of that was fully committing to fixing her mistakes. Harley Quinn, Clown Queen of Crime, was trying her damnedest to be a responsible adult.
Oh, it wasn’t perfect. Harley was still Harley, an impulsive charisma tornado of mayhem and criminal enterprise. But Ivy loved that about her. She loved all of it, really. The messiness, the hijinks, the excitement. Even the damn hyenas. But mostly, she loved that Harley was really trying.
Above all else, Ivy had a soft spot for stubborn little things doing their best to grow.
“Aw, Ive. You’re thinkin’ sweet things, aren’t ya?”
Ivy took a step back, “How—?”
“Oh, please. Like it’s hard to tell what’s goin’ on in your head”. Harley poked Ivy’s chest. “I literally wrote your case file, Dr. Pamela Isley. But even if I hadn’t, you’d be an open book to me. You’re my best friend and True Love, so I gotta pay attention to this stuff.”
Ivy blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. It shouldn’t please her so much to hear Harley say True Love. It shouldn’t. It was dumb, fairy-tale bullshit. Real life didn’t work like that. They were supervillains, for fuck’s sake. Well, maybe not supervillains. An eco-terrorist and an anarchic anti-hero. Point was, their lives were several singing animals and nauseatingly good deeds short of a storybook romance.
But it did please her. Because fuck it, she could be a villainous asshole and still enjoy this really nice thing she had going with Harley.
Plus, deep down, every time Harley said the words True Love to her—which was often, with total sincerity—it reaffirmed to Ivy that Harley was hers. Hers. And no one else’s. Specifically, not one abusive, murderous asshole in particular.
Well, joke was on him this time, because—wonderfully, miraculously—Harley had chosen herself and then Ivy over that maniacal prick.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about Ives?” asked Harley, but she had that look—what Ivy had dubbed the Therapist Look—which meant that she already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from Ivy.
Well. No point pretending, then. “Joker. And what a fucking tool he is.”
“Hmm. Thought so.” Harley cocked her head and laced her fingers around the back of Ivy’s neck. “When you think about him, you either look smug or murdery. And right now, you look smug and murdery.”
“Hey, I don’t think I’m the only one that wants to kill that piece of shit.”
“I’d be first in line Ive, believe me. Though he’s not so bad, these days.”
“Hmf. And as for smug, well. It’s because—” Ivy glanced away. “—because I get to be with you.”
Harley cupped her cheek and turned Ivy’s head to face her. “Damn right. ‘Cause he’s got nothin’ on you, Ives. You own my whole damn heart in a way no one ever has.”
It was true, although Ivy was still getting used to that fact. And the way Harley could just state it like that—so simple and direct. To Ivy, who had learned to guard her feelings almost as soon as she had learned to walk, the way Harley wore her heart on her sleeve was sometimes awe inspiring. It was also sweet and hot, and Ivy loved her so damn much but also just wanted to fuck her brains out like, right now, so—
“Bedroom,” said Ivy, dragging Harley to her.
“Ooooo!” Harley wrapped her legs around Ivy’s waist and allowed herself to be lifted off the counter.
Ivy carried Harley to the room like that; holding her close, her nose resting in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent. Great lungfuls of Harley smells—the tang of blood and cheap dye, sweet bubble-gum and sunshine.
“Are we gonna—Fuck!” Harley gasped as Ivy bit her shoulder and reached for her bra clasp with one hand. After a brief struggle, it unhooked, and Harley shucked it off without pause before kissing up the column of Ivy’s throat.
Left to her own devices, Harley had two gears in the bedroom: idle cuddling, or full throttle. She was shifting rapidly towards the latter, squeezing her legs around Ivy’s waist, grinding against her wantonly even as she continued her sweet kisses up Ivy’s neck.
Ivy could feel Harley’s bare breasts pressed flush against her through her tank, and needed more.
She lowered her girlfriend to the ground and dragged up hands up Harley’s toned back to tangle in her hair before pulling her in for bruising kiss.
Harley sighed, melting into it, and Ivy wanted nothing more than to devour her whole. She broke the kiss, which had left them both breathless, and spun Harley around. Now her hands roamed up Harley’s front, cupping her breasts possessively.
“Pants off,” she growled in Harley’s ear. “Keep the socks on.”
Harley shimmied out of her clothes immediately. “You’re the boss today, huh?”
Ivy softened her caresses, hesitated. “That a problem?”
Harley snorted. “You forget who you’re talkin’ to here? That’s never a problem. It’s—mm,” she pressed back against Ivy, who had resumed her rough touches. “I’m just. Happy to do anythin’. Anythin’ with you, Pammie.”
“And I want to do something for you. You’ve been so good, Harls.”
Harley’s voice was soft, hopeful. “Have I?”
“Yeah. You really have.” Ivy nosed up Harley’s neck and nipped her ear. “And good girls deserve a treat.”
“A… Treat?”
“Mmhm.”
“Like… like maybe some vine stuff?”
Ivy chuckled. “Again Harls?”
Harley turned around, resting her arms on Ivy’s shoulders. “I get to pick, right?”
“Yup.”
“So, yeah. Vine stuff.” She cocked her head with deceptive innocence, hair bunches flopping to the side while her eyes danced with mischief. “Can’t blame a gal from wantin’ to get all wrapped up by you, Dr. Pamela Isley.”
“Then get on the bed and kneel for me.”
Ivy’s heart thumped as Harley obeyed, crawling onto the bed and turning to face her, sitting back on her heels.
“Spread.”
Harley spread her knees; cunt on full display and framed by her thigh-high stockings as she waited attentively for her next command.
Ivy breath faltered at the sight, and she inhaled slowly to regain her composure. Jesus. Keep it together, Isley.
“Arms behind your back. Elbows in your palms.” Ivy fished a seed out of her pocket, rolling it in her palm before sprouting it into a rapidly growing vine tendril. She directed it to Harley, wrapping it around her chest, over and under her breasts and upper arms, cinching them to her sides. A tendril grew down from the coil at her back and secured her forearms together.
She circled the bed, confidence growing as she admired the sight of Harley bound up, back slightly arched. She wound a separate pair of vines around and under each of Harley’s legs, starting at her knees and ending at her ankles and upper thighs to complete the restraint.
Tying Harley up with plants was nothing new for them. It was kind of their brand. Over the years Ivy had used vines to catch Harley mid-air, dispatch her foes, pluck her from danger, shield her from bullets, and otherwise get her to sit still for five damn minutes. Vines were Ivy’s go-to utility tool, especially concerning the welfare of one Dr. Harleen Quinzel, aka Harley Quinn, aka best friend, aka girlfriend, aka complete danger magnet.
This was a new flavor for them, though. Not unwelcome, not at all. It was becoming a bedroom favorite. Having Harley helpless and reliant on her was familiar territory, and in this context, utterly exhilarating.
For Harley too. Ivy could see it in the way her chest rose and fell rapidly and in the tell-tale glisten between her parted legs. Harley was always so delightfully responsive, always so ready for any kind of bedroom activity. But even for her, this was quick.
“You’ve been wanting this for a while, haven’t you, honey?” Ivy bent over to stroke Harley’s cheek. “You should have asked sooner.”
“I had to wait until I was a good girl, ‘n deserved it.” Harley bit Ivy’s thumb as it ran over her bottom lip.
“Hm. True. Do you know what else you deserve?” Ivy withdrew her hand, and the vines grew, winding over Harley’s skin and wrapping her torso, constricting just enough to bring her to edge of her gymnast’s flexibility.
“To get fucked?” asked Harley hopefully. Her breathing was a shade erratic now, her excitement making her squirm.
“If you stay good.”
“I will. I will Ives, promise.”
The vines grew taut and tipped Harley onto her back. She was so bound up she could barely move, and Ivy adjusted the vines at her leisure, tweaking Harley’s positioning to her satisfaction, ensuring her restriction was tight but not brutal. The vines were everywhere, spreading across the mattress, winding around the bedposts and snaking along the floor and up the bedroom walls. If someone were to look in, they’d swear they were staring into a jungle.
Not that Ivy had eyes for anything other than the woman in front of her. Harley looked glorious; her bleached skin and hair a vivid contrast against the bed’s verdant sateen sheets and Ivy’s vines.
“You okay, Harls?” she asked, low and soft
“I… I can’t move.”
“Too much?”
“No. Fuck no. I love it.”
“You’ll love this more.”
Harley gasped as slowly, the vines wrapping around her sprouted thorns. They were small, barely enough to prick. A tease, a threat, and a promise that Ivy knew would send Harley into a delirium.
“You’re perfect, Harls” Ivy said, taking off her jacket and kneeling between Harley’s legs. She peppered kisses up the insides of Harley’s thighs as the thorns pricked a little harder, just shy of breaking skin.
“God, Pammie,” Harley whimpered and Ivy smiled against the divot of her hipbone, knowing that the contrast of the pinpricks and the softness of her tongue would be delicious and agonising.
From here Ivy could see first-hand how wet and ready Harley was. She was tempted to just dive in, but no, she had other things planned. Instead, she blew on Harley’s slick folds and was rewarded with a moan.
She cradled Harley’s sides with her hands and trailed kisses along the tight lines of her stomach, taught under Ivy’s tongue, muscles flexing as her lips brushed over them, up, up to where her vines framed Harley’s glorious breasts.
Ivy paused, admiring the view between the valley of Harley’s chest, her bare collarbones and pale neck wrapped in vines. No thorns or constriction there, just the gentle weight of the tendrils moving in time with Harley’s rapid breaths. She could just make out the bobbing of Harley’s throat as she swallowed, her tongue flitting into vision as she licked her lips.
“Re—oh!” Harley gasped. Ivy sprouted more thorns, slightly bigger than their peers, on the coils around Harley’s chest. Her breasts were spared. Instead, Ivy lavished them with soft, slow strokes of her tongue.
Harley, who lived life at one hundred miles per hour, forced to endure this slow, loving torture. Ivy’s smile turned into a grin, knowing that while Harley liked it hard and fast in the bedroom, she liked being restrained and forced to go at Ivy’s speed just as much.
“Good girl, Harls.” said Ivy, grazing one of her nipples with her teeth, before sliding down Harley again. She could feel the warmth of Harley’s skin through the cotton of her tank, and for several moments luxuriated in the feeling of just touching her—running her hands over Harley’s bare skin, in the gaps left by the vines along her ribs and thighs.
She really was perfect.
“You’re all mine, aren’t you?” she asked, sliding off the bed.
“Y-yes Pammie. I mean it.” Ivy could see Harley’s neck straining against the vines, desperate to make eye contact, the only part of her rebelling against her restraints.
“You need to stay still, honey.”
“I wanna see you.”
“And I want you to feel.”
A tendril slithered up the bedside table and retrieved a dildo from the top drawer; one of Harley’s favorites. A part of Ivy wanted to be naked for this part, but she was done waiting and Harley would find her doing this fully clothed exciting. So instead, the vines snaked around her hips to form a makeshift harness over her pants, holding the dildo in place while she widened her stance at the end of bed.
She waited as the vines to dragged Harley towards her, hair bunches loosening as the tresses dragged along the sheets, until her heels hit the edge of the bed, right in front of Ivy. The vines tensed, pulling her legs apart even more, spreading Harley in front of her.
“Fuck” panted Harley, uncharacteristically quiet. “Ives, please—”
Ivy rested a hand on her thigh to silence her. She had no intention of holding out.
She wasn’t going to rush, either.
She entered Harley leisurely, meeting no resistance. Harley keened, thigh tendons flexing against her restraints, an automatic impulse to spread her legs further.
The vines were unyielding, though, holding her in place. Not that she’d needed to spread more—Harley was beyond ready and she took the strap to the hilt in one smooth movement.
Ivy bit her tongue. Harley was a vision, spread out before her, helpless. She withdrew and commanded the vines to grow, distributing Harley’s weight evenly. Harley was ridiculously flexible and capable of astonishing gymnastic poses, but this was about restraint, not punishment. So, she waited until she was sure Harley was fully supported before lifting her slightly and then dragging her onto the strap again, bare ass to clothed hips.
Ivy began to rock Harley using the vines, allowing them to do the work of moving Harley on and off her strap. Ivy could see Harley’s leg muscles and abs tensing, flexing, as they automatically sought to mirror Ivy’s movements, to fuck back and give herself the hard friction she loved and that would get her off that much more quickly.
“None of that, Harls,” said Ivy, stroking Harley’s stomach. “Don’t fight it, baby. Relax.”
Her girlfriend's eyelashes fluttered, and she obeyed. She’d promised to be a good girl and was holding to it, so Ivy rolled her hips, once, deeply, to get a groan out of her girlfriend before the vines resumed their rocking of Harley and Ivy could stand idly and simply enjoy watching Harley sliding on and off her strap, and the delicious sounds she was making as she did so.
Harley took it beautifully, skin flushed pink and beaded with sweat, until her moans came quicker, and then desperate. Ivy kept it going as long as she could, teasing Harley with the leisurely pace until the desperate moans became tinged with frustration.
Ivy eased it with a brush of her fingertips on Harley’s clit, a lazy circle that had her quaking in a much-needed drawn-out release.
“Ah… ah… fu—”
“More?” Ivy’s voice sounded thick and heavy to her own ears, weighted with lust.
Her girlfriend moaned in response, her affirmation a slurred. “… s.”
Ivy loved this part; when Harley was pushed to a place beyond speech. Her charming chatterbox of a girlfriend rarely stopped talking, and the bedroom was no exception. Ivy loved it. One of the many discoveries she’d made since they’d gotten together was Harley ‘s gift with dirty talk; she was ridiculously good at pouring absolute filth into Ivy’s ear and driving her absolutely wild with it. But in spite of—or maybe because of—this, there was also something deeply satisfying, at fucking Harley so thoroughly she couldn’t even string a sentence together. It made her heart pound.
Normally Ivy was a patient being. It was the plant in her. Stoicism went hand in hand with the Green. But Harley brought something else out in her. Harley was special; she called to the human in Ivy, the part of her that felt and loved and bled in red.
And the red was rapidly eclipsing the green.
Ivy flipped Harley, using the vines to turn her face first onto the mattress. She climbed onto the bed and kneeled behind her, running her hands over the bare expanse of Harley’s ass, leaning over to check her breathing.
“Harley?” A scrape of her nails against a bare section of Harley’s back, a grazing of her knuckles across Harley’s cheek. “Baby?”
A lick of the lips. A nod and a whimper.
Sucking in a breath, Ivy lined up the dildo and gripped Harley’s hips. Now, the vines didn’t move Harley. Now, they held Harley in place while Ivy was the one who moved, hard, fast, forceful. The fabric of her pants muffled the sound of her hips meeting Harley’s ass, so Ivy could enjoy the whines, gasps and mewls tumbling out of Harley’s lips against the mattress.
At last, she fucked Harley the way Harley loved to be fucked; hard and messy and relentlessly. Her hips snapped, and she clenched her jaw to keep from moaning; even fully clothed, it felt good, so, so good to take Harley like this, to claim her. To own Harley in a way they both enjoyed so much.
Ivy knew that Harley’s second orgasm wouldn’t take long after the first, especially with the way she was being fucked. This time she didn’t bother touching Harley’s clit to finish her. Instead, keeping up her hard, fast pace, she grew the thorns on the vines long and sharp enough to pierce skin. Not too much. Nothing too punishing. Just a slight flash of pain, a burst of sensation to send Harley over the edge.
Every muscle in Harley’s back tensed as she screamed wordlessly into the mattress. Ivy slowed but didn’t stop until Harley went completely limp.
She withdrew gently—both the thorns and the strap—and unfurled the vines slowly, allowing Harley to sag into the mattress, heavy-limbed and insensible.
Ivy crawled beside her and turned her over. Harley’s skin had cooled, and Ivy massaged warmth back into her limbs, working the muscles in Harley’s arms and back that were stiff from restraint. The thorns had barely drawn blood, but Ivy navigated around the pricks carefully, not wishing to cause her girlfriend any discomfort.
Not that she had much to worry about; Harley’s pain tolerance was on a different level from pretty much anyone Ivy had ever met. If Harley could do one thing, it was take a beating. It was a fact that Ivy did her best not to dwell on when she could help it. As cheerfully as Harley could accept punishment, seeing her hurt reminded Ivy too much of all the terrible things that Harley had endured in her life, and the shitty people responsible for it. Ivy wanted very little to do with any of that; she was where Harley had always come to heal.
So, while Ivy knew that this was probably only the tip of the iceberg of when it came to the pain games with Harley, she wasn’t ready for it yet. One day she would be; the single constant in their relationship was that there was pretty much nothing she wouldn’t do for Harley. The recent expansion of their relationship to the bedroom had only reaffirmed that.
Just, not yet. They had time, and Ivy was happy to grow slowly into this new relationship and enjoy the softer side of things while she did. Like helping her girlfriend recover from a spicy pounding.
Harley was still totally out of it, her breathing shallow, but even. She looked serene—blissful, even, though Ivy was tickled to note that she was drooling slightly. Reaching under the bed, Ivy pulled out a soft, fluffy blanket and bundled Harley into it.
This last action made her stir.
“Mmm. Ive.” She said, words slurring.
“Yes sweetheart?”
“Man, you can fuck.”
Ivy laughed. So much for sweet, fairy-tale romance. “Come here.” She pulled the Harley-blanket roll up to her side.
Harley’s hair had come loose. Ivy undid the ties, gently combing her fingers through the bleached-blond strands and picking heart-shaped sarsaparilla leaves out of the tangles. “Are you okay, honey? Are you sore? Do you need anything for those thorn-pricks?”
“Nah, I’m fine.” Harley liberated a leg from the blanket bundle and threw it over Ivy before sighing happily.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Totally sure. You know me, I’m indestructible!” Harley’s grogginess was already fading, replaced by her irrepressible energy.
Her recovery time was frankly astonishing, and Ivy couldn’t help but shake her head in admiration. “You’re a woman-shaped honey badger, Harls. I just… you know. I have to check.”
“I know.” Harley’s voice softened.
“Even though I know it’s nowhere near your limit—”
“I know, Ive.” Harley kissed her cheek. “It’s perfect, though. You’re perfect. I wanna hold you forever.” She squeezed Ivy happily.
“That’s great babe, but now I can’t move.”
“Well, that’s only fair, since I couldn’t move earlier.”
“Yeah, but you like being all tied up by a big bad villainess.” Ivy smirked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Harley’s ear before tweaking her nose. “You find it hot.”
“Fuck yeah it is!” Harley paused and chewed her lip. “But it’s also real nice. Relaxin’. ‘Cause while I was helpless, I knew I was totally safe.”
“You always are with me,” said Ivy, heart full as wrapped an arm around her girlfriend. Being with Harley was so much… more. More everything. More than she’d ever felt with Chuck or anyone else. Even their little touches and gestures, which had become second nature during their years of friendship, now held new significance and meaning. It was wonderful, and scary, and made her palms sweat and her heart beat faster.
Like now, when Harley wholeheartedly returned her half hug by throwing her arms around Ivy and nuzzling into the crook of her neck.
“I know Ives. It’s what makes it so fucking good, you know? Like, next level, brain meltingly awesome. Sex that’s good for my heart as well as my vag.”
Ivy kissed the top of Harley’s head. She was so precious; she barely knew what to do with her sometimes. She settled for squeezing her back. “Happy to melt your brain anytime, babe.”
Harley popped back up with a serious look. “I’d kinda like to melt your brain too though, Ive.”
“Shouldn’t you recover first? You usually need a nap after, uh, vine stuff. And that looked fucking intense.” Ivy tried to pull Harley back down into a cuddle, but her girlfriend wiggled free. She unfurled herself to straddle Ivy, eyes twinkling as she gathered the blanket around her shoulders like cape.
“Your patient is on the mend, Dr. Isley,” she declared before leaning in to Ivy’s ear. “I’m gonna fuck you now, Ives. I’m gonna eat you out of your mind until you can’t take it anymore. I’m gonna lick and suck on you like it’s my goddamn life’s mission. Because I’ve been thinkin’ about it all day, and I’m dyin’ for it. You understand? I’m dyin’ to taste you.”
“Jesus.” Ivy struggled for words while her brain short circuited. “Okay.” She watched her girlfriend’s head dip down her front, hiking up her tank and kissing her way between her breasts. She weaved her fingers through Harley’s loose hair as their eyes locked, Harley’s impossibly blue under her eyelashes, hazy with lust and love and need, lips parted as she—
DING DONG
“Fuck!” Ivy leaped a foot in the air, sending Harley tumbling off the bed. “Shit! Sorry Harls. You okay?”
“No problem!” Harley had somehow managed to turn the fall into a handspring and had landed on her feet. She looked at the bedroom door curiously. “We expectin’ company?”
“Shit, I just remembered. I—” DING DONG “—Yes, I’m coming, FUCK!” Ivy glared at the door before turning back to Harley. “I ordered us pizza when you got home. In case you got hungry.”
“It’s true, heists and mind-blowing orgasms do make me snacky.” Harley smiled. “That was sweet of you, Ives.”
Ivy blushed. “Uh. Yeah. You know I love you, so.” Harley beamed, and Ivy’s heart melted a little. She got up and gently pushed Harley back onto the bed. “So, let me go get dinner and then we can, uh, resume later?” She phrased it as a question, but from the wicked grin Harley responded with the inflection was needless.
“Hell yes, we’re gonna resume! Pizza, then—” Harley winked “—dessert. This is the perfect Thursday evening, Red.”
“Right?” Ivy opened the bedroom door and stuck her head out. “Frank?” She yelled before stepping into her apartment living room. “Did you get the door? Was it the pizza?”
Frank hopped around the corner, maneuvering with a surprising turn of speed for a giant potted plant monster. “Yes, and yes.” He placed a pair of pizza boxes on the kitchen counter next to the duffels and plants. “Delicious.”
“Delicious? Dammit Frank, did you eat the delivery guy? Please don’t tell me you ate another delivery guy. We keep getting blacklisted and I actually like this pizza place. They use sustainably sourced ingredients and are willing to put whatever abomination Harley wants on her pizza. Do you know how rare that is?”
“First of all, it was a delivery girl. And second, no, I did not eat her. That shit is offensive, you know I’m watching my figure. No more unhealthy, minimum wage, zero health insurance bullshit here. I’m all about those rich, free-range, Fitbit wearing assholes in Gotham Park. And third, I was referring to the pizza.” The plant monster started when he caught sight of the vines snaking from under Ivy’s bedroom door. “That some goddamn sarsaparilla I see? You tying Harley up again, you dirty motherfucker?”
“What are you, the kink police? It’s none of your business.”
“You know I’m down if that shit’s consensual, but your shameless ass is doing it when there're children in the apartment.” He wrapped an eyestalk protectively around the saplings.
“Those are citruses, Frank. The horniest little shits in the plant kingdom. Plus, they’re at fruiting age.” Ivy grabbed the pizzas and headed back to the room.
“It’s the motherfuckin’ principal, Ivy,” he called after her.
Ivy ignored him and bumped into Harley at the bedroom door.
“Hey Ives, I heard yellin’.” Harley tip-toed to peer over Ivy’s shoulder. “Hi Frank!”
“Hey Harley!” Frank responded cheerfully before narrowing his eyestalks at Ivy. “Now if you will excuse me, I need to babysit.” He swept off towards the greenhouse, saplings in tow.
Ivy sighed and shook the pizzas at Harley. “You want to head back to the room, or…?”
Harley, who had been looking quizzically after Frank, brightened at the mention of food. “Well, I made the effort to get dressed, so maybe pizza and TV first?”
“Harls, wearing my shitty Suicide Squad T and—” Ivy tilted her head as Harley vaulted over the back of the couch, “—yep, nothing else, doesn’t really count as ‘dressed’”
“Eh. I’ve done heists wearin’ less.” Harley clicked the remote.
“That’s… Okay, yeah. That’s actually true.”
“Oooh Tawny is on!”
“Sick, move over.”
They ended up cuddling on the couch, with Ivy reclining against one of the armrests while Harley lounged in her arms, alternating between eating pizza, commenting at the TV and nuzzling Ivy’s chest.
“More pizza babe?” Ivy asked, offering Harley her half-finished dinner after the show had finished and Harley had settled down.
“Can’t. I’ll explode.” Harley pushed away her empty box and snuggled into Ivy instead. “You’ve got a top shelf rack, Ives,” she said dreamily, burying her face into Ivy’s cleavage.
“You’re going to fall asleep, aren’t you?”
“Course… not.” Mumbled Harley. “Still got… dessert. Mmm.”
“What was that?”
“Mmmf mmm.”
Ivy cracked a smile and switched channels, content to let Harley fall into a pizza coma on her. She settled on a cooking show and relaxed back into the cushions, mind wandering.
Solitude. Maybe it had become more of a guideline than a hard and fast rule. A moveable object. A lifetime of being alone or settling for less was looking dumber by the minute. Besides—Ivy stroked Harley’s back idly—the opposing force was very cute. And would truly be unstoppable once it woke up and wanted dessert.