"UGHHH!" Harley flopped back onto the couch with a loud, guttural groan, her eyes flitting to a nearby clock.
8 pm.
She turned to look over at the entrance to Ivy's greenhouse, but her glorious green goddess had yet to emerge from her day's work.
A covered plate sat on the dining table, the only thing that could commiserate in her loneliness, but Harley had long since given up on getting Ivy to eat her dinner. The redhead was like that, quick to forget all basic necessities when she got caught up in a project.
Well, necessities and girlfriends, apparently.
With a grumble, Harley clambered to her feet and trudged to the lab, ready to give Ivy a piece of her mind about minding impatient girlfriends and keeping movie marathon commitments - it really was a crime to skip a Fast and Furious movie marathon, or at least it should be, because how could you not participate in an event that celebrated fast cars, insane action sequences and found families? - but she stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the lab, because she found said woman hunched over her workbench and looking utterly…
Delicious.
For all her dedication to her scientific pursuits, Ivy wasn't one for traditional lab etiquette. She often wore her lab coat and the accompanying goggles, but she didn't bother with other precautions, like gloves or closed-toe shoes. She was Poison Ivy, after all. The plants, the lab chemicals…none of it could ever affect her.
And while that had always irked Harley - who needed to wrap herself in a freaking hazmat suit to even get close to some of Ivy's more grandiose experiments - today, the sight brought nothing but immense pleasure.
She drank it in from bottom to top. Long, luscious legs were framed by the pristine, creamy white of her lab coat and enveloped in a dark olive-green pencil skirt that wrapped around her curvaceous hips to complement a baby pink blouse, which lay partially unbuttoned to expose the rich green skin underneath.
All of a sudden, Harley didn't care that she had had to eat dinner alone.
Because I know what I'm having for dessert.
Unaware she was being watched, Ivy moved from her microscope, muttering absently to herself as she scribbled something down on the pad next to her. With each movement, curls of red hair escaped the confines of her scrunchie to fall against her cheeks and highlight the perfectly angular brows that furrowed in intense concentration.
As she wrote furiously, her goggles began to slide down her slender nose. With a frustrated huff, Ivy blew the hair out of her face and pushed the frames back up with a finger, unconsciously biting her lower lip in an attempt to focus.
Harley suppressed a giggle. She never did understand why Ivy didn't just buy a better fitting pair of goggles, but she never suggested it, because watching Ivy push her goggles up every five seconds was unbelievably cute – and sexy.
Especially when she did… that.
She took in a shuddery, shallow breath as she watched Ivy worry her supple green lip between her pearly white teeth. Toying with it, like a lion would with its helpless prey.
It wasn't too much to imagine those teeth maybe toying with other lips, maybe biting down just enough to send a tinge of pain through her being before letting go.
It also wasn't too much to imagine those teeth toying with other incredibly sensitive areas. Areas that were now reacting to her hyperactive imagination and becoming increasingly, unbearably sensitive.
Damn you, Ive.
She cleared her throat, loudly, messily, her hands posting themselves on her hips. She was supposed to be angry with her, after all. Best to look the part.
"Harls?" Ivy glanced up curiously, tilting her head, "What's up?"
If she had been faking her anger before, she was practically neck deep in it now. "That's all you have to say to me, what's up?!" Harley glowered as she stormed up to her girlfriend, arousal mingling with her fiery anger to create a growing frustration that needed an outlet. Like now would be great.
But the closer she got, the more she could see of that gorgeous green skin underneath Ivy's unbuttoned blouse and all she could think about was dragging her tongue across the dips of her collarbone and down to –Goddamnit I'm supposed to be mad at her!
"You've been stuck in here all day, Ive!" The words came out in a slightly breathy, but definitely frustrated growl. "You barely sat down for lunch, completely missed dinner and now we're going to miss the Fast and Furious marathon!"
She pointed an accusatory finger at Ivy's chest, but it took all of her willpower to keep it there. "I didn't care that you were stuck in here all day and all night for the past week, because I know you're working on something important…but you promised today was my day, Ive. You promised!"
If Ivy noticed the slightly dilated pupils and the dip in Harley's tone, she didn't let on. "I'm sorry, peanut. I'm developing a flame-retardant plant hybrid for areas prone to wildfires and I suppose I lost track of time…"
She trailed off to study the work on her bench, then released an apologetic sigh before looking back at Harley, her green eyes seeking forgiveness. "You're right. I promised I'd spend time with you and I didn't. I really didn't mean to neglect you, daffodil. Can you forgive me?"
The pet name did a great deal towards soothing her anger, but it did quite the opposite for her other growing 'frustration'. Harley clamped her legs shut to ward off the growing ache in her core, but the effort was futile.
"It's fine," she mumbled through clenched teeth as she squeezed her thighs even closer together.
Unfortunately, the clipped response read very differently to an adorably oblivious Ivy, her face falling at Harley's curt reply. "I really, truly didn't mean to forget, Harley…" She drew closer, allowing Harley to catch an even better glimpse of her bare skin and the cleavage beneath.
Fuck me all the way to hell and back. Forget pots of boiling acid and all that bullshit, this…this is torture, right here.
"Is there any way I can make it up to you?"
Harley bit her tongue to keep from replying. She could definitely think of a way for Ivy to make it up to her, one that involved clearing workbenches with one swipe of her arm and tearing off clothing and pressing searing kisses to every available body part and inserting fingers where they needed inserting …
But she was still angry with Ivy. And if there was one thing she'd learned growing up, it was that bad girls don't get dessert.
"Please, daffodil," Regretful green eyes bore into her own. "I'll do anything you want me to."
Ivy drew closer to grasp her hand, but Harley, unfairly stimulated as she already was, found herself robbed of all breath by the skin-on-skin contact.
Is it me or does Pammy feel hotter than usual?
"There has to be something I can do, peanut. A heist, perhaps? Or a day out? I could take you to dinner and dancing at the Iceberg tomorrow, maybe stop for ice cream at Ben and Jerry's on our way back?"
If Harley had cells left in her brain, she would have told Ivy it all sounded utterly wonderful, and that she was completely forgiven… but she had only sense enough to focus on Ivy's soothing voice. It felt like a gentle caress down the front of her torso, so much so that she could feel a phantom tingle inching ever closer and closer to her unbearably aching, throbbing –
She shivered at the vivid hallucination and clenched her thighs even tighter.
Oh, god, fuck me already.
She was interrupted from her fantasy by an increasingly distraught Ivy, "Say something, Harls. Please, you're worrying me."
The words barely made it past her open lips, "Fuck me."
"What?" Ivy returned a curious frown, drawing Harley's attention to her adorably scrunched up nose and her pouty kissable lips.
Oh, for fuck's sake!
Harley grasped onto Ivy's forearms and pulled the unsuspecting redhead into a sloppy, heated kiss. Red lips clashed with green, Harley paying no heed to anything other than satisfying the freaking hellfire that had apparently made a home inside her core.
Ivy broke the kiss, pulling back with a bewildered, "Whaa-what are you doing?"
"I said… fuck me already!" Harley nearly cried with frustration.
Mossy green eyes became wider, "But-but I thought you were mad at me."
God, for a freaking sex goddess, Pammy is so dense sometimes.
"Pammy, I've been standing here just waiting for you to realize how horny I am and you kept going on and on about taking me out to dinner and that's lovely and all, sweetie, but I really just want you to have your dessert first." She hopped on the work bench and spread her legs open suggestively.
But rather than jump at the opportunity and well, jump her, Ivy remained rooted to her spot. (hehe, get it, rooted?)
"So, you're not mad at me?"
She was this close to smacking her girlfriend upside the head. "Pammy baby, I love ya, but ya sure don' know when to carpe the fucking diem. I'm literally asking ya to fuck me till I can't sit straight and you're askin' me if I'm mad at 'cha?"
Ivy scratched her head, "Well, I'm just-"
"If you don't fuck me in the next ten seconds, you're sleeping on the couch for a month." Even as she said it, Harley could feel a dampening down below. There was something so unbelievably hot about ordering Ivy around, especially since Ivy was usually in charge when it came to….well, most things, actually.
But Harley was the upset girlfriend now. A little role reversal was only fair.
For her part, Ivy stood there in stunned silence for all of seven seconds before clarity sank in. Harley watched with a self-satisfied smirk as the mossy green orbs she loved so much became impossibly darker with desire.
Good girl.
Harley spread her legs a little more and leaned back, balancing her weight behind her as she fixed her lover with a seductive leer.
It was all the invitation she needed. Ivy crossed the gap with a single stride and roughly pulled Harley's lips to her own, a hand snaking around the pale neck to pull them even closer together. Lips, tongues, even their very breath became one as if they were trying to fuse themselves together.
Before she could really get into it, however, Ivy pulled away to instead hover near her ear, her voice a low, husky rasp. "Is this what you wanted, Harley?"
For all her efforts to be in control and keep her arousal to a bearable level, the question undid all her resolve so that the only response Harley could muster through parted lips was an unintelligible squeak.
She could practically feel the knowingly smug smirk that immediately slid onto Ivy's face as the redhead began pressing soft kisses against her neck.
Fucking hell, I love this smart-ass.
"Is this what you wanted from me, Harley?" The words, whispered against her skin as Ivy worked her way down her neck, resonated against her hypersensitive nerve cells, striking a dissonant rhythm with her rapidly thumping heart.
Dark green eyes flitted up to meet hers. "Am I forgiven now?"
There was a fair amount of earnestness in her plea, but the words also dripped with sensuality, enough to send a thrum of arousal through her core.
Harley clenched her jaw to suppress the moan that bubbled in her throat. She would die rather than give Ivy the satisfaction of taking control. This was her punishment to mete out, her carpe to fucking diem.
"No." The response was surprisingly clear, and for a second, it took her – and Ivy – aback. But she quickly seized the moment and pressed on, her lips curving into a mischievous grin.
"You won't get off that easy..." She brought up a pale finger to lightly trace Ivy's jawline as she continued, "I'm gonna need you to do what I want first." The finger paused just behind Ivy's ear, tracing the particularly sensitive spot with lazy swirls and imaginary hearts.
It gave her great pleasure when Ivy began to squirm under the attention. "W-what do you want, Harls?"
Harley beamed for just a second before dropping her smile entirely, a ravenous, hungry look taking its place.
"I want you to make me scream so loud that the neighbors think you're murdering me."
To her credit, Ivy had a killer poker face. "Romantic." She deadpanned.
But an observant Harley could see her words had had their intended effect. And when Ivy began worrying her lower lip between her gorgeous teeth once more – a sure sign that she was winning- the jester almost wanted to do away with this whole game and take her right there.
Instead, she tugged Ivy forward by her lab coat, resting her lips near the woman's ear just as she had done earlier. "Think you're up to the challenge?"
It was a moot point, because Ivy looked ready to jump her bones and then some, but challenging her girlfriend was never a bad idea – because a competitive Ivy was a sexy one.
"Of course," Ivy replied with suave confidence, "But we don't have any neighbors, Harls."
Harley let out a low growl from the depths of her throat, sounding like a lioness hunting its prey, and smirked.
"Exactly."
Several things happened at once.
Ivy pulled her close once again to trap her lips within her own, arousal clear in her own green eyes, but as she did so, she summoned her plants to begin stripping her of her outfit, her hands too occupied with the hem of Harley's shorts (read: underwear) to do the work themselves.
"Wait, wait, wait!"
A breathless Ivy pulled back, "Whaa- what now?"
Harley shook her head, unable to do anything other than gesture to the outfit. "Keep…keep it on."
Ivy frowned, "Keep what on?"
"The clothes," Harley burst out. "Don't take them off."
Ivy was quick to understand, and equally quick to take advantage of the fact. One gorgeous eyebrow arched up. "So you like me like this?"
Eager to get on with the show, Harley pulled her close, "Fuck yes, but don't stop now."
Ivy obliged and reached under the hem of her halter top, her fingers lightly brushing over Harley's skin and caressing the bottom of her breasts. "You think I'm hot in my lab outfit, do you?"
Harley grit her teeth, "God, Ive, I'll admit that you're fucking killing me with that outfit, but just shut up and fuck me first, will ya?"
Green hands gracefully moved lower to acknowledge Harley's already soaking shorts. Fingers glided with a feather light touch over her exposed thighs, but it was enough to fuel Harley's touch-starved body. She let out a soft moan.
"Someone's been a naughty girl, hasn't she? Spying on me while I'm working and imagining all sorts of dirty little scenarios in her pretty little head." Pammy mused as her fingers traced lazy circles on an inner thigh. "Tell me, Harls, is it the pencil skirt?"
Harley responded with a little whimper and a brief shake of her head.
The plant goddess shifted to allow her hand more access to Harley's core. Slender fingers traced even closer to the mound, stopping just short of contact before returning to dance along her thigh.
"Then, is it the pink blouse?" Ivy whispered sultrily as her green eyes caught Harley's lusty look in her own. "Because I unbuttoned it on purpose, you know…" She leaned closer still, her breath hot on her face. "Just in case you came by."
Harley sucked in a harsh breath at the double-entendre but couldn't tear her eyes away from Ivy's.
"Do you like it?" The unexpected tenderness entwined with what should have been a purely lustful question was uniquely Ivy – and uniquely alluring.
The jester gave a slow nod, but it became a gasping shudder when Ivy's fingers finally traced her folds through her now soaked shorts. Harley wanted her to get rid of the blasted garments and just get on with it already, but she knew that even without removing her underwear, Ivy was capable of turning her into a shaky mess.
"That's good to know," Ivy continued in that unfairly alluring tone of hers, "But I have a better idea for next time. Don't you want to know what it is?"
Lost in the wonderful things Ivy was doing to her, Harley had already lost track of the conversation; but even if she had remembered, it wouldn't have mattered, because the look Ivy gave her sent a rush of arousal though her core to rob her of all coherent thought.
And yet, somehow, she remembered to nod. "W-What is it?"
Green lips curled into a seductive smile. "I was thinking of keeping the lab coat on…." The smirk became even wider. "And taking everything else off."
Harley let out an open-mouthed gasp and arched up off the bench with a guttural cry, but whether it was because of the notion of a nude Ivy clothed in just her sexy lab coat, or because of the finger that were now inside her shorts - and inside her core – she would never be able to say.
The finger began a gentle rhythm against her delicate folds. "I knew you'd like the idea."
Harley looked down to watch the lithe green hand working diligently inside her shorts, sending her closer to heaven with every thrust.
There's no other explanation for it. I'm dead and I've gone to heaven.…
"Do you, daffodil?" Ivy curled the finger, eliciting a startled cry from the panting blonde beneath her, "Y-yyes…!"
The rhythm continued, "I know you've been dreaming about this, haven't you, daffodil? Me fingerfucking you on my work bench." Her tone was casual, relaxed, as if she were discussing the weather instead of their current, sinfully salacious activities, but the words had their intended effect.
Harley let out a shuddery gasp and tugged the hand even closer.
Ivy leaned forward, her tongue dancing across glistening pale skin and lapping it up as if it were water in an arid desert. "Is it everything you wanted?"
"hhhHm?"
Ivy responded by licking a trail down the lithe neck. "Is this everything you dreamed of?" She hummed at the base of her collarbone before suckling at the spot with her wonderful teeth.
The whole thing was already incredibly unfair because Harley couldn't think, couldn't speak, couldn't breathe through the desire suffocating her lungs…
But then Pammy, deviously nasty Pammy, inserted a second finger just as she asked the question, and so all the blonde could utter was a breathless, "Ummmph…"
Ivy leaned over to begin nibbling at her ear, her voice sickly sweet with growing satisfaction. "I didn't quite catch that, sweetpea."
"Y-yeah.." Harley let out a raspy sigh, every fiber of her being aching for sweet, sweet release. "I…" She licked her parched lips, "I-I need…"
"What do you need, baby?" Ivy whispered, her busy fingers spread apart as they pumped in and out, drawing another hoarse moan from her lover.
"m…M-MORE!"
She teased Harley's ear between pearly white teeth, tugging, teasing, licking; her breath running hot against flushed skin. "Tell me exactly what you want, Harls."
Harley shifted her weight to free one hand, bringing it up to Ivy's flowing red hair and weaving her white fingers into her scalp. "Y-you…" Her hand attempted to show what she couldn't express in words, but the weak gesture was enough.
All the trembling blonde could see was a twinkling gleam in her girlfriend's eyes before she moved down. And then –
"ffffF-FUCK!" Harley bucked off the table and would have tumbled off if Ivy's steadying hand weren't planted on her hip.
She looked down to find what was perhaps the most beautiful sight she'd ever seen. She hadn't even realized her shorts were gone, but it didn't even matter, because there Ivy was, working diligently between her spread thighs, her red hair poking out amid alabaster skin as she licked and lapped and continued pumping those damn magical fingers in and out and in and out and in and –
"G-god…" Harley stuttered, her pale fingers weaving in between beautiful red locks to grasp onto them with a death grip. "Go-good god, don't stop…"
To her surprise, Pammy chuckled, the vibrations ringing against her sensitive folds, "Not God, Harls, just me, I'm afraid."
If Ivy weren't so damn good at what she was doing, Harley would have been upset all over again. But the smart-ass talk was part of Ivy's charm. Well, that and literally everything else about her.
A third finger went in, stretching her aching core as the green goddess between her legs continued pumping in and out and in and out.
"P-Pamm-mmy….." Harley moaned aloud as she trembled on the table. She could feel herself nearing the brink, every cell in her being aching for release. Something resembling a half-sob escaped her lips as she pulled Ivy even closer.
The redhead began pumping harder, licking harder. Her free hand came up to trace the hem of her red and black halter top before sliding under the fabric to tease a hardened nipple.
It was the extra push she needed to fall over the edge. She came with a throaty cry, yelling Pammy's name and all the nicknames that she could remember in the haze of her desire. Fingers worked their magic even through the aftershocks that tore through her trembling frame, but once she'd finished crying herself hoarse, they stopped.
And then Ivy emerged from between her legs, licking her fingers clean with a beam of immense satisfaction. "I think that was loud enough, Harls, wouldn't you say?"
Too exhausted to tease back, Harley managed a slow nod. "T-that was…" She shook her head with a weary laugh, "I think I lost my voice."
Ivy's expression softened. "I'll get you some water later." She drew Harley into a hug, resting the blonde against her collarbone as she carded gentle fingers through sweat-soaked pigtails. The way Ivy could switch from smug smart-ass to soft little jellybean would forever be endearing to the blonde jester. "Am I forgiven?"
"God yes!" Harley let out an amused chuckle as she nuzzled her nose into Pammy's collarbone, "I'd have to be a fool to still be upset with you after that."
Ivy smiled, but then the expression fell. "I really am sorry, Harls. I know I haven't been the most attentive girlfriend lately-"
A pale finger settled over her lip, silencing her as sincere blue eyes locked onto apologetic green ones. "Pammy baby, I forgive you, really…. I mean ya got down on your knees and made amends and everything." Harley wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "And you're really good at it too."
Pam chuckled, "Thanks Harls, it's always nice to hear how good I am at 'making amends.'"
"Oh, you're the best." Harley didn't miss a beat. "I think you should make amends like that all the time."
She was pleased when Ivy began to blush. "I think I can manage that." But then, the redhead reached for her hands and pulled them to her heart, "Either way, I'd also like to take you out tomorrow, something special. Dinner and dancing, perhaps?"
Harley grinned. "Only if you promise me something."
Ivy looked curious. "What's that?"
The grin became impossibly wider. "That I get to have you for dessert."