By A_Spicy_Bowl_of_Olives
The lone lamp light twitched lethargically above her as cicadas chirped a monotonous tune into the warm spring evening. The sun was nearly done setting as the blonde watched those golden hues in the sky bleed into magentas before cooling into rich blues across the Gotham River.
She had seated herself on a creaky bench near the water, taking the time to touch up her foundation while she waited. Harleen was doing her best not to look at her watch, as she found every time she did so, not even a minute had gone by since she’d last check. She sighed slipping her compact into the pocket of her leather jacket, bouncing her leg as she listened to the soft breeze billowing through the trees of Robinson Park like hushed whispers. The blonde swallowed as its melody drifted to her ear— she bounced her leg a bit faster.
To say the doctor was anxious was a bit of an understatement but then again one couldn’t blame her…first dates were often a bit nerve wracking.
To be fair, the blonde supposed she had been on several ‘dates’ with Poison Ivy in the past, however she just hadn’t exactly realized they were in fact dates. They had been fun, lighthearted romps with little thought and plenty of reward; Harleen always regarded them as casual excursions between friends, but now that the two were formally girlfriends, the doctor found herself viewing their dynamic in a far more serious light. Naturally this led to the over-analyzation of every aspect with which the girl carried herself, from how she spoke, to her mannerisms, even how she chose to style her hair—when in the past she had never given any of those things so much as a passing thought. Hell, it had taken her nearly a full hour to decide on what to wear tonight as she critically examined every piece of clothing in her closet with an unforgiving eye. She nearly ran late before she finally decided to return to her first option: just a simple red dress with a pair of low black heels and a weathered, black jacket to match…this was still Gotham of course, even when dressing nice if you didn’t present yourself with a bit of an edge you were a walking target in the city. Admittedly that was less of a problem for Harleen now that she had a well-known—and well feared—super criminal to call her girlfriend.
Harleen felt the smile pull on her lips. Girlfriend, she repeated the thought to herself, feeling the lightheaded sense of giddiness that came with her new normal of dating Poison Ivy. She couldn't help but giggle to herself quietly, swinging her legs a bit beneath her seat. A part of her wanted to tease herself for acting no differently from when she was in gradeschool, scrawling the names of her crushes in her journal beneath the covers—testing if 'Mrs Harleen Frances Bernie' or 'Mrs Harleen Frances Bash' sounded better—but she didn't care how silly it was to be so starstruck: she was dating the woman she was secretly in love with. It was exciting! But of course it came with an entire laundry list of anxieties. Committing to a relationship was always scary, but it was doubly nerve wracking when one has already decided on the very strong feelings they harbor for the opposite person…while simultaneously having decided they will absolutely not be revealing to said person that they love her anytime soon. The mystery of how the redhead would react to such a confession was too great a question for Harleen’s nervous mind to consider at the moment, so she chose to ignore it for now and just enjoy what she had going with the redhead.
She almost checked her watch again before defiantly sliding her hand beneath her thigh to stop herself, trying to let the tranquility of Gotham River in front of her occupy her antsy thoughts. She had only been waiting about three minutes but to her it felt like a lifetime. She couldn’t quell the urge to bounce her leg again, restlessly. She huffed to herself in disdain as she forced it to stop. “You need to be more patient,” Harleen admonished herself, "what are you, seven?" she fisted the fabric of her dress strictly over her thigh. ‘Fortune rewards the patient, Harley’, that sweetly raspy voice recalled in her head, ‘good things don’t just come to people like you, ya know pumpkin? You have to be willing to be a good girl and wait for them, you can’t just go gallivanting around like a headless puppy looking for them. Honestly kiddo, however did you manage to make it this far in life before we met?’
His voice.
Harleen swallowed, unconsciously ghosting her fingers over the shoulder Jay had touched when he told her that. Joker had been helping her compile a list of flaws to be corrected. A menagerie of quirks the blonde had which needed tending to make her into a better person. Better for him, explicitly, but the girl took the suggestions in stride as a way to round herself properly. All her life Harleen Quinzel had had people she considered close walk straight through it without so much as a glance upwards towards her: friends…her first boyfriend…her own damn father. She’d tried her hardest to connect to others in relationships, but they just never seemed interested in returning the deeper affections she harbored; she was only a footnote in their lives, meanwhile she craved reciprocation from them like she did air to breathe. The only one who ever saw her was her mother…but with three rowdy brothers under one roof the woman didn’t exactly have much time to lend towards her seemingly self-dependent daughter, thus Harleen was left fighting tooth and nail to earn so much as a crumb of attention from anyone willing to acknowledge her yearning heart. The blonde couldn't help but suspect she was the cause of her own social shortcomings…only she could be the one to blame for the unsatisfying, one-sided relationships she experienced all her life. There could be no other explanation.
A heavy sigh from the blonde’s lips escaped, joining the gentle breeze as it traveled in the air. Her fingers fidgeted with small gift she held in her hands.
That was part of the reason she chose to pursue psychology, Harleen supposed. It was a means to figure out what exactly made people tick, to learn how to read them so she knew exactly what they wanted from her. So she could mold herself to their approval. If she could do that successfully then maybe, just maybe, someone would finally want her back. And now here was Jack Napier, extending a patient hand to help her accomplish exactly that. She didn’t deserve his help, she didn’t deserve his love, yet here he was helping any way he could. And people had the nerve to call him heartless…
The clown prince of crime was truly the first person to open the blonde’s eyes to her flaws, to specifically point out the reasons for her long life of failures. She hoped with his guidance she could correct herself enough to be someone who deserved him. And maybe…with those lessons he taught…she could figure out how to be someone who deserved Ivy too…
Harleen’s heart felt heavy as that familiar sense of longing came to her. Since Jack had opened her eyes to how much she needed to change she couldn’t help but ponder all the faults she’d probably made in the past around the redhead. She cringed at the thought of all the fuckups that had gone unnoticed in the moment. The blonde found herself astonished—and thankful—that the botanist had yet to stray from her despite her probable missteps.
Thanks to the clown, the girl was now hyper aware of everything she did… but unlike Joker, who made it quite clear when the blonde’s quirks irritated him, Ivy never gave any indication of scorn with Harleen’s behavior. Never an indignant brow when her doctor said something that soured her, she never interrupted a foolish mannerism, nor discouraged how the girl carried herself in attire. She only ever seemed to look at her with those unchanging, warm eyes. Those praising eyes. As if the blonde could do no wrong by them. Harleen bitterly doubted that was a possibility...
Ivy’s mirthful stoicism was as consistent as it was difficult to read. Harleen had always prided herself on reading people easily until the redhead entered her life. Now the doctor found herself agonizing over every lilt of her patient’s voice and sway of her body language to no avail with what any of it could possibly indicate. It was frustrating. Harleen had no damn clue what the woman wanted from her. How was she supposed to know what to correct about herself when Ivy gave her no hints?
And speaking of the devil…
“Hello stranger~” a sudden, honeysweet voice appeared in the girl’s ear, nearly giving her a fright amidst the relative silence of the park. Harleen gasped softly before her face stretched into mirth. “Hello, yourself~” she responded with a smooth grin, turning her chin to face the woman whose arms wrapped comfortably around her neck from behind.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here alone on such a lovely evening?” Ivy purred deliciously in her ear.
Harleen blushed with a soft snicker. “Maybe she’s waiting for someone to ask her out to dinner…?” she replied with a lilt of playfulness in her voice.
The redhead’s grin deepened knowingly, “well how fortunate…I was just about to ask her that very question,” Ivy cooed, a finger dancing up the blonde’s neck teasingly. “Could I treat you to dinner tonight, pretty girl?” she purred with a sly tilt of her head.
Harleen couldn’t keep the act up any longer, breaking out into a happy giggle as she leaned in to connect their lips in a deep, warm kiss, her mind swimming pleasantly as they molded together. “I didn’t trek out here in heels to say no, red,” she smirked. Harleen loved the buzz Ivy gave her. The woman had a reputation for increasing people’s libidos with her pheromones, but sometimes Harleen could swear the villain had another that increased her sense of confidence. She couldn’t explain how, but being around Ivy just made the blonde feel more sure of herself, more comfortable. Ivy made her feel alive.
The doctor rose from her seat to face the woman properly. Ivy was already taller than the blonde to begin with but with the black stiletto boots she wore tonight she held well above a foot over her—though Harleen wasn’t complaining in the slightest. Something about the obvious height difference between the pair made the girl feel safe in a way she couldn’t articulate…a comforting sense of smallness. Blue eyes trailed up her tall form to appreciate the short dark skirt and low-cut top the woman wore beneath the chestnut trench coat that fell to her knee. “You look nice,” Harleen blushed. “Thank you,” the villain hummed, “you’re quite the sight yourself,” she smiled, green eyes scanning over her with an approving look. Harleen blushed deeper, instinctually teasing her fingertips at the hem of her crimson dress with her free hand, empowered with approval. “Thanks,” she smiled.
“What have you there?” Ivy asked regarding the small item Harleen held. “Oh, I grew this for you!” The blonde announced excitedly, presenting the little marigold in her palm as a gift. “Not very well but…I grew it for you,” she smiled shyly, extending the flower to the redhead’s waiting hand. She kicked herself at how pathetic the plant was, wilted and sad, barely passing to be described as ‘yellow’ in its current state. Harleen was almost certain she’d be in for an earful from the licensed botanist—though it was an expectation not entirely with morose. If anything, she longed for some type of criticism, to hear how she could better herself to the redhead’s liking straight from the horse’s mouth—
“Nonsense it’s perfect,” Ivy purred simply. Harleen blinked in surprise, caught off guard with the blatant lack of the condemnation a twisted part of her so desperately craved.
With a wave of green fingers, the flower crept out of Harleen’s palm and grew up the villain’s arm to form an ornate bracelet, the bud resting just above her wrist. “It’s the same color as your hair~” Ivy cooed, admiring her new treasure with warm delight, “I’ll think of you when I plant it in my garden later~” she winked flirtatiously. The warm twinkle in that emerald pair of eyes had a polarizing effect on the blonde. On the one hand that look made her spine want to melt like pleased butter at the utter display of approval, but at the same time, that approval was just the problem. Harleen had fucked up—she didn’t deserve the appreciation. The fact that the redhead was displaying joy and not disappointment was contradictory to the psychiatric profile she had laid out for the woman in her head. Harleen felt something unpleasant stir in her chest but she suppressed it.
“I’m glad you like it,” she offered up a sheepish grin instead.
Ivy matched her grin, oblivious. “I have something for you as well,” she hummed reaching into her pocket to produce a handful of small seeds. “Hold still,” she uttered softly, setting the cluster atop the girl’s head. Harleen was confused before she felt movement through her hair. She gasped suddenly feeling vines sprout and swirl over her scalp. A moment later soft petals were felt brushing her skin. Ivy took a step back to admire her handiwork, giving a sly glance to the water front across from the them. Harleen moved to gaze down at her reflection, gasping softly as the sight of the carefully woven flower crown met her eyes, adorned with soft pink carnations and bright blue cosmos.
“Oh woah…” the girl gasped, “it’s beautiful…” she whispered in awe, a genuine smile creeping onto her lips as the earlier feelings of disappointment quickly vanished from her chest upon being adorned by the metahuman’s hand like a queen blessing her subject. Ivy’s reflection appeared beside her to join in admiration, “yes,” she purred, “you are~” The blonde rolled her eyes, bumping the woman’s shoulder playfully. Ivy chuckled, proud of herself, before she raised her elbow up and out towards the girl. “Shall we?” she hummed, waiting expectantly. Harleen laughed softly, a warmth spreading to her cheeks as she looped her arm around it. “I think we shall~” the girl smiled, as the two ventured into the night side by side.
They took their time strolling through Robinson Park on their way to dinner. Harleen enjoyed the game of pointing to random plants and seeing how fast it took Ivy to name them, while Ivy enjoyed the game of Harleen recounting various corners of the park she’d seen joggers get attacked by angry ducks.
Both women found what the other had to say incredibly intriguing.
“—So are you gonna reveal where you’re taking me tonight, Ms Ivy?” The blonde quipped by her side as they neared the edge of the park. Ivy smiled wryly, shooting her a sly brow, “you’ll see,” she teased, “we’re almost there. It’s not typically my style, but with my squeaky-clean public record I have limited options of where to go and this is the least seedy option,” she explained, “also I have faith you’ll find the atmosphere of this place…interesting” that last word hung on her tongue wickedly.
Harleen had absolutely no idea what that could imply and found herself all too anxious to discover.
She held a bounce to her step as they pressed into the evening.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ivy’s confident strut went uninterrupted as the pair approached the venue, though she soon realized the girl at her side was beginning to slow her gait as she realized they were heading towards—
“—Is it really a good idea for me to be at the Iceberg Lounge, Ive?” the doctor asked hesitantly, slowing to a stop as they neared the faux arctic building, it’s notorious reputation nearly as lavish as its exterior. “I know being a Brooklynite gets me scrappy points, but I don’t think I have anywhere near the reputation you do to warrant being in a place like this…”she stressed sheepishly.
“And what kind of reputation would that be?” Ivy quirked her brow with a teasing bow of her head, leaning her chin in closer to her wary girlfriend, “are you saying you aren’t enough of a bad girl to get on the guest list, Harl?” the villain teased with a cool smirk, giving a comfortable chuckle. The sound lingered for a moment before her smile turned softer as she regarded the nervous blonde, her green eyes warm and sympathetic; Harleen could have been swaddled in that look. “Don’t worry peanut, you’re with me,” she cooed, retreating her entwined arm to instead pull the girl in closer by the waist, their hips flushed close. “I’ll keep you safe~ ” Ivy purred in her ear. Harleen blushed, feeling that warmth in her cheeks spread down into the rest of her body. With another moment she gave a soft, grateful smile and allowed herself to be led inside, “I have no doubts about that... “
They were seated in a round, secluded booth, nestled in the corner and away from prying eyes, as Ivy preferred it. Harleen could have been content sitting on the lounge’s floor quite frankly as she was immediate enraptured by everything her eyes beheld. The obesive grandeur of the place was apparent the moment they had stepped through the genuine ivory handles of the doorway. Ivy watched Harleen’s eyes fill with wonder at the excessive attention to detail the nightclub had to offer, catching a blush that grew on her green cheeks. “I take it you like the atmosphere?” It’s not like she had to ask.
“Are you kidding? It’s amazing!” the blonde gawked, slack-jawed, “though I can’t help but feel this Cobblepot guy is overcompensating for something…”
The villain snorted, a genuine sound only the girl across from her could manage to elicit. “I’ve never known you to give a faulty diagnosis, doctor,” Ivy hummed, watching on as Harleen continued to stare at quite literally everything around them with fresh eyes. The botanist had visited the lounge so many countless times before she often forgot just how lavish the place actually was. She was never one for materialism, so it wasn’t exactly like she cared about the genuine mahogany seats to begin with, but the redhead didn’t need to be a psychologist to recognize how surface level this display of opulence was. It was an act, a breathing display case of power and influence that held no real class. Everything in this building screamed superficial and shallow…all except for Oswald’s pockets whenever he commissioned the botanical supercriminal for a favor, of course. For that reason alone she found she didn’t entirely loathe being in this place…and that was especially the case tonight seeing how excited the adorable girl was to be there.
“I assume you’ve never been in here before, have you?” Ivy inquired smoothly, still very amused by her girlfriend’s state of transfixion.
Harleen shook her head, still gazing around her—she couldn’t tell if the iceberg in the fountain was truly ice, or a damned diamond what with the way it reflected light into her eyes. “No…,” she affirmed breathily. She held no doubts for a moment that none of this was paid for with honest money, but the visual mystification was much more captivating than the legal questions the lounge raised, so the girl found herself caring less and less by the minute. “No…never”
Ivy quirked an interested, yet cutting brow, “Pagliacci’s never taken you?” she asked with a subtle hint of contempt laced in the back of her throat.
Harleen finally looked at her, giving another shake of her head. “No, Joker’s never taken me here,” she answered. She smiled a small apologetic smile, “he’s kind of got a life ban…” Ivy had to raise the menu to cover her face in order to hide the immense levels of satisfaction that swam in her eyes at that information. She couldn’t slow the smug snicker as it cut across her face. “…Sounds like him,” she uttered, trying not to let the pride consume her chest as she beat the clown prince to the punch.
“Yeah,” Harleen nodded with a pleasant, oblivious grin. “Heh, he told me he tried to ride the shark in the fountain,” she laughed, recalling the very animated version of the tale he had recounted for her.
“Too bad it didn’t eat him…” Ivy mumbled cuttingly without a glance upwards. Her tone was flat with something vaguely acidic on her tongue. The blonde’s laughter hiccupped to a clumsy halt at its sound.Harleen chewed at her lip at the redhead’s obvious disdain—Ivy she was never hard to read when it came to Joker, she acknowledged, one of only two things that were always clear to infer about her. Harleen watched across the table as those green eyes narrowed sharply at the words in front of her, though the girl doubted it was from her strain to read the small font of the menu…
Harleen awkwardly cleared her throat, recognizing it was time to change topics.
“So uh…so how goes the eco-terrorism?” she asked with a kind, earnest smile, hoping to avoid the topic both women knew would result in an argument. Fortunately, Ivy also wanted to have a pleasant evening. “It’s going,” she acknowledged, moving on simply enough. She spoke with something of a tired breath, “be a hell of a lot easier if the pigs didn’t keep smoking out my hide-outs, though. There’s only so many plant related areas in this putrid city, I’m starting to run out of options,” Ivy bemoaned, resting the menu down flat to rub at her temple.
“Maybe look for less obvious places to crash?” The blonde suggested with a helpful shrug, “have you ever thought of hiding out in a bowling alley or a Turkish bathhouse?”
Ivy snickered with a short, endeared laugh. “Only you would suggest something like that, daffodil,” she admired with a warm gaze, leaning forward in her seat to rest her chin on her palm.
Harleen hid her blush behind her own menu.
“—How are things doing in the cuckoo’s nest?” Ivy asked after they had received their drinks. “And let me specify I’m asking out of courtesy and not to imply I’m actually curious about anything that happens in that hell hole when I’m not there”
Harleen grinned wryly at the woman’s assured display of self-proclaimed indifference. “Well, it’s a lot duller without you there, that’s for sure, red,” she answered. Ivy hummed, watching back at her from across the table. “Maybe I should get myself arrested again?” she suggested with a glint in her eye as she leaned forward to rest her cheek on the back of her knuckles, her elbow on the table.
Harley laughed with a blush,“ heh yeah I wish, that would be really nice—” she agreed, before she immediately paled with realization. “I-I mean—I’m not trying to say I want you to get arrested and locked up again! No! No-no I definitely don’t want that! I just mean it would be real amazin’ if that did happen ya know—?” you’re making it worse stop talking, she heard some intelligent part of herself screaming, “ not the you gettin’ locked up’ part, the gettin’ to see ya at work part! That’d be the amazin’ thing that I’m talkin about—” she blathered out without taking a breath, “y-ya know what I mean?”
Her heart pounded as she waited for Ivy to give a shrinking look or harsh remark. Harleen had more than enough experience with Joker to recognize when she royally fucked up a conversation and was in for a lengthy reprimanding. But Ivy didn’t seem to react at all. Her face only remained frozen in that same expression of mirth which had been present the entire evening—signaling no change at all to imply what she actually felt about the blonde’s words. Salt was poured into the wound a moment later when she laughed gently, quietly, it was like a cat chuffing when it’s happy, the girl thought in amazement.
“Your accent slips when you’re nervous,” Ivy hummed fondly, raising her glass to her lips, “it’s cute~” she purred taking a pleasant sip, completely unphased. If the blonde didn’t know any better she’d say the redhead appeared far more delighted with her slipup than annoyed as she should have been…
Harleen couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably in her seat. She took an uneasy sip from her own glass to calm her anxious thoughts…
~~~~~~~~~~
The evening carried on more or less normally after that.
They held pleasant conversation until food arrived, where Harleen took the time to tease the villain over how eating a cobb salad should be considered cannibalism for a half-plant metahuman. Ivy was unable to retort however as she was too astounded by the small girl’s ability to down enough food to feed a lumberjack in half the time he probably could.
Despite the pleasantries, through it all Harleen couldn’t shake the gnawing at her brain as she struggled to read the woman across from her. Ivy was still dutifully displaying a nonchalant presence despite the girl’s various errors which should have been rage inducing. The blonde felt her heart thrum. I don’t know what she wants from me, she lamented to herself, chewing halfheartedly at the inside of her cheek. Her heel began to tap on the floor anxiously. I don’t know what she wants from me…
As the nightclub filled with more patrons into the early morning hours, the lights dimmed for ‘a stoking of the atmosphere’ or however the hell the venue description explained it. Neither woman cared for the pretentious reasoning though, as they took the darkened space as an opportunity to get a bit more personable.
They had been steadily inching closer and closer together to the point that now they were sitting side by side in the center of the round seat. Harleen was just one leg short of completely sitting in the redhead’s lap, her thigh resting comfortably over Ivy’s knees. She had her blue eyes closed as she nestled into the crook of the woman’s neck as crimson lipstick tickled across her exposed shoulder. Slow green fingertips flirted over a pale, exposed spine left free from the abandoned leather jacket on the seat beside them. A soft gasp made itself known from Harleen’s tongue as a pair of soft lips found her neck, right over that special spot that made her shudder. She heard the woman chuckle in her ear.
“You look beautiful tonight, seedling,” the redhead praised in a soft murmur, her lips rounding the edge of the girl’s jaw. “Though I’m sure you’d look more beautiful in my bed~” she purred, smiling with a wicked glee when that earned her the blush she’d been aiming for. Harleen couldn’t help but squirm a bit in her seat, but a sudden hand at her knee made her still. With one thigh restricted from leaving its place on the woman’s lap, Harleen was seated with her legs purposefully kept apart, which made her so much more painfully aware of the steadily growing heartbeat she felt between them.
“I-Ivy?” the girl squeaked, quietly. The woman only hummed in acknowledgment, keeping her firmly spread where she sat as those poisonous lips continued to make their mark over pale flesh. Harleen felt her own breath shudder in her throat as she spoke, “Ivy do you think maybe we should g—?”
“Aw…you want to leave so soon?” the botanist pouted with a teasing sadness, and soft batting eyelids, “but baby, they haven’t brought us dessert yet,” she smiled with a knowing tilt of her head. The blonde gasped as the hand on her knee stroked small, unassuming circles on the bare skin of her inner leg, hitching the hem of her dress up just slightly.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m your dessert?” the blonde breathed, her fingers grasping at the fabric of the woman’s chestnut coat before her as if to steady herself with it. She could feel her heart beginning to pound what with Ivy’s hands stealthily creeping up her leg beneath her scarlet dress.
“Because you know me too well, doctor,” the villain answered simply with a pleased purr, using just the tips of her nails to scratch up the length of her girlfriend’s now trembling thigh, “you know, you really have a gift for reading people Harleen,” the redhead acknowledged, “do you know that?”
The girl stilled. She blinked as the restaurant around them seemed to fall completely silent to her ears. Her chin crept upwards to look the woman in the eye with a chilled bewilderment. “W-what did you say?” Harleen gasped breathlessly.
Ivy snickered, oblivious to her mental reeling. “Don’t be modest pretty girl, I bet you could guess what I’m thinking right now, couldn’t you?” she teased, just as the tip of her finger teased over Harleen’s thin red underwear, right above her slit which was slowly and thoroughly becoming soaked. Harleen hid her face in the woman’s neck to conceal her blush. It wasn’t like their darkened little alcove was exactly front and center of the floor, but the rush of potential embarrassment should they be seen was as potent as it was arousing for the blonde. She stifled a whimper.
“I said couldn’t you, peanut?” Ivy hummed again patiently, her green eyes smoldering like twin flames of desire when Harleen finally pulled back again to look at them. The eyes the blonde found herself lost in trying to fathom. Lost…except when it came to the desires of heat which the redhead wore plainly on her sleeve. That was the second of the two things which were always clear to infer about her: what she craved. That question was easy…Ivy quite simply craved her.
“You…you’re trying to get me flustered,” Harleen whispered quietly into the villain’s neck, straying her eyes no further than beyond Ivy’s face as if she feared looking anywhere beyond them would somehow attract attention towards the pair from passerby’s. “You think it’s cute when I’m flustered, and you like how easy it is to get me there,” she breathed, peaking expectantly up at her.
She was met with a pleased, ravenous grin. “I do~” Ivy purred happily. A purr that encouraged a throb between the doctor’s legs. “And I like this little sound you make—” the woman leaned in closer, letting her sentence linger. The glance directly into those blue eyes was the only warning she gave before her fingers gently sunk into Harleen’s anxious pussy. Those pale fingers gripped tighter around the fabric of her brown coat as her girlfriend moaned preciously into her ear, her hips thrusting a bit into that clever hand in response. Ivy hummed deliciously, “yeah…” she uttered in acknowledgment, her voice low and satisfied, “that’s the one”
A steady thumb toyed at Harleen’s clit, wasting no time teasing the doctor as her finger pumped carefully into her. Harleen whimpered brokenly behind closed lips as she tried to keep her body still as best she could, though her hips seemed to have other intentions. Ivy was there to steady her however; a reassuring palm stroked across her bare shoulder as the blonde hid deeper into her chest with a quiver. “Shh,” the redhead cooed softly, “ shhh” Rich green eyes closed to home-in on the precious sound of Harleen’s wavering breath and the tiny whimpers it held, easily lost in the populated ambiance of the room to an untrained ear. The botanist smiled to herself, with her girl so close she could feel that little heartbeat thrumming against her own chest. It was adorable. Ivy soon found that with certain thrusts of her hands she could make the girl cling to her tighter, press herself closer…needless to say the redhead was enjoying experimenting with this revelation.
“Tell me something else, flower,” she purred after a moment, slipping in a second finger while she was at it, “…you’re so good at this~”
The contradicting thoughts raging in Harleen’s head were as strong as the sensations burning in her loins as she struggled through both of them to say something coherent. “I know…y-you just want me to talk because you like how h-hard it is to keep my voice even—” she spoke slowly, only half trusting her voice not to break with an audible moan loud enough for the next table over to hear. “It gets you hot”
“Good girl,” the redhead cooed sweetly, placing a warm kiss on her forehead. “ ‘Even’ while…what?” she coaxed with a wicked twinkle in her eye.“Even while you fuck me…” the blonde finished the incomplete though, before taking a breath, “but I’m sure you probably want me to say, even while you play with my pussy—” her voice was a whimper as her own words stirred a shiver, “—because that would make me squirm more…”
Ivy’s eyes could have turned red with the heat in which they simmered. “What a smart little flower~” she hummed approvingly, reaching down to kiss her warmed cheek. “It must be so easy for her to know what her mama wants…” Her thumb was merciless as it toyed at her clit. Her fingers began to curl and flex inside the girl’s shuddering walls producing tremors through her thighs where she sat partially across the villain’s lap. “Do you know what she wants now, Harleen?” Ivy asked, her voice a hushed breath of excitement, waiting on an invisible edge. “Could you tell me that, little one?” she asked, her teeth grazing the skin of the blonde’s ear.
Harleen could feel her heart beating in her throat as her chest became tight. She sucked in a sharp breath, whether from the thoughts whirling in her mind or from the orgasm she was about to have she couldn’t say.
The girl didn’t answer the villain’s question with words…but actions. She came silently with stunted breath as she pressed her forehead to the redhead’s sternum. Her jaw locked to silence the loud moan that threatened to escape.
She shivered when it was over. A warm hand came down smoothing over her small spine to steady her. “Such a smart girl,” Ivy cooed kindly, nuzzling the bridge of her nose to Harleen’s temple. She took hold of the edge of her chin to lift her face. “My girl~” she specified, pressing their lips together. Harleen felt like she couldn’t breathe as her mind raced disparagingly with burning thoughts. That wasn’t true, she heard herself say, none of that’s true. I have no idea what you want…
Harleen pulled out of the kiss so abruptly she nearly hit her head on the headrest of the booth. Ivy straightened her neck in surprise, blinking down at her in confusion. The girl could only hear her heart beating in her ears as she locked eyes with the stunned botanist. “Um…” she uttered, feeling her entire body turn hot with discomfort, it was like the heat was emanating from below her flesh, boiling her organs. “…S-sorry I have to pee,” she said quickly worming out of the booth to dash away without so much as a glance back.
She plowed through the push door of the women’s room, thankful to see no one else was in there. Harleen braced herself against the edge of the granite sinks, taking deep slow breaths to try and steady herself. She made the mistake of glancing up at the mirror, immediately regretting the sight she caught. The girl looked as though she was about to burst into tears…and she felt as much too.
She tried to gain control of her breathing again, long breaths in, and even longer ones out. She clenched her hands against the hard countertop, focusing on the smooth surface, grounding herself down to Earth. It was starting to work until—
“Harl?” Ivy’s voice was soft and unobtrusive. It held no hints of ire or betrayal, only concern as the woman entered the obsessively large bathroom after her.
Harleen kept her fretful blue eyes locked downwards, refusing to look back as she heard the clack of the villain’s heels click across the marble floor towards her. She hung her head above the sink, shutting her eyes as Ivy came to a stop behind her. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Harleen couldn’t help but dwell on just how gentle her voice sounded, it was the same way she spoke to the flowers in her garden when they were showing signs of wilt.
A long pause held in the air. Ivy considered asking again before a distraught voice sounded: “I can’t read you…” the blonde whispered, half to herself.
Ivy blinked, then chuckled stiffly out of confusion. “What?” she asked, taken aback.
“I-I can’t read you, red,” Harleen insisted in dismay, her voice wavering unsteadily, “your tone. Your body language. None of it makes any sense; I can’t figure out what you’re thinking!” her face contorted as she spoke, as if in pain.
The redhead chuckled again, a bit more uncomfortably this time. “Harl…you know I was only teasing you, right?” she asked, brows knitted together with concern. “Did I take things too fa—"
“I’m not talking about dinner, Ivy!” the blonde whipped sharply around to look at the woman. The anguish in her blue eyes—the hysteria—almost struck the villain off balance. She’d never seen Harleen look like this before, so fraught. “I mean the rest of the night…last week…fuck, this entire time I’ve known you! You’re a damn mystery to me!” she cried, turning her head back to hang it in defeat.
A moment of silence hung between them before the botanist stepped forward slowly. Ivy leaned against the sinks, her back facing the wall length mirror as she gazed to the side at the troubled girl. “Harleen we aren’t in therapy,” she said objectively, “you shouldn’t be trying to read me”
“But I can’t tell what you want from me,” the girl lamented, turning back to the botanist, her eyes held a puffiness now.
Ivy tsked, “what I want from you?” she repeated curiously.
“Ivy you always look at me the same exact way, no matter what I’m doing you always. Look. The same! You never judge anything I do or react negatively to anything I say so how the hell am I supposed to know what I need to change about myself for you!?” the doctor cried, her voice fringing, distraught.
Ivy stood quietly for a moment in shock as the last of Harleen’s words echoed limply off the tiled walls around them. The redhead’s mouth hung open for a beat before she actually spoke. “Harleen, why would I ever want you to change?” she asked with a calm bewilderment. She shook her head softly in astonishment that the girl could even be insinuating she did.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Harleen shot back, just as confused as the villain. “I’m not perfect, Ivy,” she spat bitterly, “I have flaws, that’s why I need to do better. Be better. Please,” she begged, “I’ve tried to figure it out quietly but obviously that’s not working so could you just tell me instead?” Ivy could have reached out and touched the desperation in the blonde’s voice if she wanted to, “…Please just tell me, what is it you want from me, Ivy?” Harleen pleaded, unshed tears stinging at her eyes. “How do I make myself better for you!?”
Ivy couldn’t speak, though she felt her lips part as if she meant to. She could feel her own heart pounding in her ears as she watched Harleen come apart at the seams.
“Does this have something to do with him?” Ivy asked quietly, after a moment of thought. She could feel her blood turn to ice as she slowly pieced what was happening together. “Is that where all of this is coming from?” she leaned forward, her eyes intense though not scornful. Concerned. Harleen couldn’t meet them. She glanced down again.
“Please…” the defeated girl whispered, “please, just tell me what you want,” her vision became blurry as her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t let you be another one that leaves me too…”
The silence could have been cut with a knife as it rang painfully in both women’s ears.
After a pause Ivy suddenly straightened herself, moving away from the counter and gazing down sharply at the far shorter woman. For the first time, Harleen saw a flicker of something in those deep green eyes, that look of disapproval the girl had been searching for, of displeasure. The signs to tell her how to improve. What the girl needed to break down so that Ivy could build back up to her liking.
“Do you want to know what I really want?” the redhead asked in a calm, flat tone, her arms crossing neutrally in front of her chest.
Harleen’s heart nearly skipped a beat. “Yes!” she gasped, stepping towards her with earnest, “yes please!” she nodded her head desperately.
“Harleen—” Ivy announced firmly, looking down at the blonde strictly. Even though Harleen braced herself for anything the redhead could have said, she wasn’t prepared for the soft green hands which unfurled from the woman’s arms to come to rest on her shoulders so delicately. “Harl…” the woman uttered, her voice falling suddenly soft. She stooped her neck to match the girl’s level as best she could.
“—I only want you.”
The dam finally burst.
“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!?” Harleen cried in dismay, tears flowing freely now as she snapped from a night's worth of build up. She sobbed into her hands audibly, her small shoulders quaking with the harsh noise billowing from her throat.
Ivy stood silently by, in utter shock. She had never seen Harleen cry before. There of course had been the tear or two shed in some rather passionate nights of sex between them, but the redhead had never seen her truly cry, cry before and quite frankly, it left her speechless. She didn’t know how to react, how to comfort her. Did Harleen even want to be comforted? Ivy was entirely out of her depth. All she could do was stand idly—and death glare anyone who dared to enter the bathroom—for the proceeding seven minutes it took the girl to get everything out of her system.
Harleen’s soft sniffs echoed off the shiny walls when her tears seemingly ran dry. Ivy stepped away for a moment to grab a hand towel, extending it to the girl who used it to wipe her eyes. Harleen’s sobs gradually quieted though her breath still hiccupped with overuse every now and then.
“—You like to bounce your leg when you’re impatient,” Ivy said suddenly, though unobtrusively. Harleen blinked up at her, confused. The woman grinned faintly when she met her eye, “it’s as though you can’t contain your own energy.” The doctor watched her quietly, lips parted as she listened, brows knitted softly with the uncertainty of the redhead’s destination. “You talk with your hands too…a lot. I don’t think you realize it. Heh…and especially when you’re excited about something,” Ivy chuckled affectionately. Her green eyes held a twinkle. “Earlier you had to image search the items on the menu because it didn’t have any pictures, and that’s how you decided on what to order—" she grinned.
Harleen shrugged indifferently, “Words aren’t appetizing,” she argued with a quiet, slightly hoarse voice. Ivy snickered as she dropped her chin with a deep chuckle. “Clearly~” she hummed fondly, as though it were obvious to agree. “Harleen I love those little quirks about you. I don’t want you to change any of them,” she insisted, placing her palms on the girl’s shoulders, “I love that you grew me a flower all your own. I love that you lost your mind when you realized every napkin in this place had a little embroidered penguin on it…and that you stole one to take home with you,” she laughed, her eyes shimmering warmly, “I love looking at your face from across the table. I love that little gasp you make when I kiss your neck. Harleen, I love—” the redhead had to stop herself before she finished that sentiment. She could feel her heart thrumming in her ears. She sighed in attempts to steady it, and at the realization she couldn’t voice that confession to the blonde... not just yet at least. Not right now.
“—Spending time with you…” Ivy said instead. “That’s all I want baby, I just want you. That includes all these ‘flaws’ as you decide to label them,” Ivy air quoted as she eased in closer to the girl.
Harleen looked back up at her with teary eyes, giving a light sniffle. Ivy offered her a gentle smile and kind tilt of her head.
“I don’t know what he’s told you,” her girlfriend continued, “but I’m not him, alright? I’ll never ask you for more than what you are, baby. I see you,” she implored, cupping the blonde’s cheeks, “I see you for everything you are. So promise me when we’re together, you’ll forget all these imaginary requirements you make for yourself. Promise that you’ll stop trying to read into me. Promise me you’ll stop thinking about what he would want…hell what I would want!” Ivy shook her head.
She leaned in even close, their eyes but an inch apart, “Harleen just be that sweet girl I adore so much, alright?” she whispered, “Please…my sweet little daffodil?” She looked back at those sparkling blue eyes shining up at her with soft tints of red. Ivy couldn’t control herself. She met those pink lips with her own.
Harleen whimpered softly into the kiss, feeling the tension in her body leave her so quickly she almost felt lightheaded.
She pulled away a moment later with a broken, wet laugh. She sniffled again wiping her eyes to better see that wonderful woman looking down at her. That ‘evil’… ‘misanthropic’…impossibly kind supervillain that made her heart swim. The girl could feel that familiar tug, that burning in her chest to just say what was on her mind, to blabber onwards about what this woman meant to her. How much she loved her and couldn't bear to see her leave.
But now wasn’t the time. Not right now
“Thank you,” Harleen whispered with wavering breath, dabbing the towel clutched in her hand over her wet cheek, “I think I really needed to hear that…” she sighed, a heavy weight lifted from her chest. Ivy tilted her head affectionately, stepping into the blonde’s space once more to plant her lips across her forehead. “Of course, peanut,” she hummed, resting the bridge of her nose there. “Will you promise me that, please?” she whispered.
“I promise,” the girl breathed. She felt the rosey breath of the redhead on her face as the woman sighed. “Thank you,” she in turned breathed, kissing her girl’s soft lips again.
Harleen was the first to step back after they had embraced. She glanced at herself in the mirror seeing how her running makeup left ruin over her cheeks. “God, I look like shit…” she sighed tiredly, staining the white hand towel in her hand with black mascara and the remnants of red eye-shadow she wiped off.
Ivy hummed hesitantly, “no, it has a…punk look to it,” she offered awkwardly, “I think you make it work.”
Harleen snickered as she finished wiping her face clean of all masks tonight. “Remind me to work on compliments with you next when you make it back to Arkham,” she said.
Ivy gave a dry laugh, placing a hand on her hip. “ ‘When’, Harleen?” she asked strictly, shooting a challenging brow with a smirk to match down at the girl.
The blonde grinned wryly behind the towel. “Well maybe you can make that ‘when’ an ‘if’ if you take up my bowling alley idea, red?” she said. “I can’t help but notice how frequently you’re in and out of that asylum—”
That stirred an amused laugh out of the botanist.
Harleen blushed, tossing the ruined towel to the counter as she took a certain step forward. “—If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect maybe you were seeing a staff member there?” she cooed.
“Oh really?” Ivy purred, reaching a palm up to stroke a thumb over the girl’s freshly cleaned cheek, feeling the genuine flesh that had been hidden under all that make-up.
“Really~” the blonde affirmed as she met her teasing smirk, leaning into the touch.
“And if I was?” Ivy’s fingertip rounded down to the corner of her pink lips, the lingering stickiness of the bubblegum lipgloss still somewhat present on the girl’s mouth.
“Well, that’d be awfully unethical don’t you think, red?” her freshly cleaned eyes fluttered up at the botanist as she spoke.
“I think she’s partially to blame, herself,” Ivy uttered, a desire beginning to burn in her eyes as hints of wetness coated her fingertips so close to the blonde’s lips as she spoke.
“Why’s that?” Harleen asked, breathless.
“Because she’s impossible to stay away from…”
The shift in the atmosphere was immediate.
Their lips plowed together as Harleen dug her fingers through a forest of red hair. The metahuman lifted her by the waist to rest her on the counter-top, pressing her back into the mirror. Ivy was the first to plunge her tongue between her girlfriend’s lips, meeting no resistance in the fight for dominance as she traced the doctor’s teeth. Pale hands cradled her face as Harleen kissed her as though it were a means to breathe, pushing herself deeper and deeper, as deep as she could. Meanwhile Ivy’s own hands drew themselves down over the slopes of sculpted thighs to tease at the hem of a scarlet dress. Her fingers began to push the fabric up before a sudden hand on her wrist stopped her.
“I know the soap in here is more expensive than my entire year’s rent—” Harleen interrupted breathlessly, “—but I still don’t think I want to get railed in a public bathroom, Ive,” she said with an expression equal parts amused, hungry and mildly uncomfortable.
Ivy pulled away to look at her soberly, though she still held that flame in her eye, “that’s fair. Let’s leave.”
“But we haven’t paid,” Harleen objected earnestly.
“Oz is loaded, he won’t be hurting,” the redhead shrugged dismissively, “come on!” she said breathlessly, helping the girl off the ledge to take her by the arm.
The two dashed out of the service entrance in a fit of hushed laughter, racing off into the night without destination and —finally for the blonde—without worry.