Archive of Our Own

“Cha-Ching!” 

The suitcase flew across their apartment and hit the opposite wall, raining $100 bills over the mismatched furniture. Harley took a running start and skidded across the money, Risky Business-style.

“You are the best friend a girl could have, Red, I swear,” she said, throwing Ivy a grin. “Couldnta done it without you.”

“I don’t know, you had the guards handled,” Ivy said lightly. “You’d think they’d expect to be hit over the head with a mallet by now, invest in some helmets.”

“They were too busy staring at you, jaws on the floor. Flash a little more leg next time and I coulda just walked out the front door!”

Ivy dropped onto the couch, rolling her eyes but giving Harley a smile. Heists with Harley were exhilarating in their chaos; on her own, Ivy tended to plan for each detail, with an arsenal of backup plans and plenty of tricks up her sleeve, but Harley planned as far as getting in and smashing her way out. Sometimes it worked amazingly well, and sometimes everything descended into mayhem - and oddly, Harley seemed to enjoy the disasters much more. As did Ivy, which surprised her. But smashing their way out of a bank, leaving smoke and bodies behind, running through the darkened alleys of Gotham, and stealing the fastest getaway cars they could find, all while laughing uproariously and staying tight to each other’s side made her feel more alive than almost anything else. 

They had been friends for so long; they had broken, come together, healed, broken, and healed again. It often felt like an endless cycle, but deep down, Harley had never stopped being important to her, and every time their newest scars healed over, they only got stronger. For six months now, they’d been living together, roommates in a cozy top-floor two-bedroom apartment on the North side of Gotham, keeping one another out of trouble and flying under the radar. Their girls’ nights meant anything from bar-hopping to clubbing to robbing jewelry stores. Just enough to get by, just enough to be happy.

It wasn’t a life that suited her usual ambition. But then again, her ambition didn’t really result in the warmth she felt now, or the smile on her face, as she watched Harley throw fistfuls of cash into the air and dance as it fell over her. 

“Not going to bed anytime soon, then?”

“Nope! God, I feel good, Ivy.” Harley planted herself in front of the couch, leaned in, and put her hands on the back of the couch on either side of her. They were almost nose to nose. “We should celebrate, go out somewhere.”

The warmth turned to heat, having her so close. The adrenaline still coursed through them both. Ivy managed to make a face.

“Ugh, no - at this time of night the only people still at bars are the ones drinking the dregs of leftover drinks and drunkenly hitting on anything that moves.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Harley asked.

“It’s fun when you do it, Harley, but only you.”

Harley straightened up, pouting. She didn’t back down when Ivy stood up, which brought them within inches of each other, close enough that Ivy could feel Harley’s warm breath on her neck and face. It came in bursts; she was still breathing hard, high on the thrill alone. She quirked an eyebrow.

 “Well then,” Harley said, and dropped her voice to a deep, heavy slur, “Can I take you home tonight, Red, show you a good time?”

“We are home, Harls.”

“Damn, I’m good.” 

She gave Ivy another wink before dropping the act and dissolving into giggles, leaning in, closer and closer; Ivy’s fingers flexed with the sudden and undeniable urge to reach out and pull her tight - just a hug, of course, a celebration, anything so that it was more than just Harley’s heavy exhales she felt on her skin.

Instead, she stepped back. As cool-headed as possible. “I’m going to go up to the greenhouse, wind down a bit.” When Harley whined, Ivy tossed casually over her shoulder, “I’ll treat you to mimosas tomorrow, how about that?”

It did nothing to lessen her grumbling, but did allow Ivy the space to make it out to the fire escape, and the colder air calmed her blood as she climbed to the roof. She took steadying breaths. Sometimes it took a while to come down from a job like that.

Among her plants, the world was quiet, full of beauty, full of love; she felt herself relax in brushing her slim fingers over the tendrils of vines and stems and petals.  The warm, wet air of the greenhouse soothed her. She could feel every plant in here - but it didn’t take preternatural empathy to feel the greenhouse shudder when the door swung open and larger than life Harley Quinn strode in.

“Pam-a-lamb, I’m bored,” she announced. Ivy watched from a shadowy corner, staying quiet, as Harley searched for her. “Lemme help with the plants.”

Ivy smiled. “There’s a watering can on the bench to your right,” she said. Harley whipped around, looking for the source of her voice. 

“What do I get for it?” she asked, picking up the watering can.

“Amusement. You said you were bored, didn’t you?”

“From robbin’ banks to waterin’ plants, the life of Harley and Ivy.”

Stifling a smile, Ivy continued her work, stealing glimpses of Harley through the leaves and occasionally, when feeling generous, allowing Harley to spot her too; each time, as soon as Harley’s face lit up, Ivy would steal away somewhere else, constantly evading her, laughing as she went. Their own little game, in their own little Garden of Eden. Even if she enjoyed playing the role of the serpent, tempting and teasing and never letting Harley catch a full view of her, she much preferred seeing Harley when Harley thought no one could. The girl moved more gracefully with her act let down, the lines of her muscles distributing energy evenly throughout her lean body, more like an athlete and less like a tightly wound spring ready to snap. 

She dragged her finger along the length of a vine idly, watching Harley stretch high to water a few hanging flower beds. The lean cords of her muscles rolled under her skin, from her legs, up to her stomach and through her shoulders and arms; Ivy couldn’t stop her wandering gaze. The stretch lifted Harley’s shirt, already cropped, higher and higher up her chest until -

- until Ivy realized that the muscles in her arm were so tense that the vine had responded, wrapping itself around her wrist in a bind so tight it almost hurt. Ivy took a deep breath; the vine released and she flexed feeling back into her fingers, trying to stay focused.

It was probably just because it had been so long since she had...been with anyone. A stint in Arkham, a more pronounced disdain for the human race, and a series of capers that had her teaming up exclusively with Harley, which meant more explosions and less sly, quiet jobs relying on her seduction and destruction of men and women alike. Maybe she’d set something up solo, soon, satiate herself with a few low level guards somewhere.

At the very least, even the greenhouse suddenly felt too small. She turned away from Harley and squeezed her eyes shut. “Hey Harls, I think I’m going to head to bed-”

“Pammy, what’s this?” Harley called to her, which was immediately followed by a shattering of glass and the sound of Harley’s coughing. “Jeez, this stinks, I’m gonna steal you a labelmaker next so I know which jars not to drop.”

Ivy froze. “What color was that jar?”

More coughing. “Red and green. Why else would I touch it? Black dusty stuff, everywhere.”

“Are you still breathing it in?”

“Pammmmmm...” Harley sing-songed. “I feel...dizzy.”

“Fuck,” Ivy hissed.

She crossed the greenhouse in three strides, grabbing a small red fruit as she went and crushing it between her teeth. The juice, bright as blood, leaked out over her lips and ran down her chin as she lunged forward, catching Harley just as she stumbled. Ivy lowered them to the floor, Harley splayed across her lap.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it, please don’t get mad at me.” She was delirious, already, reliving that deep-seated trauma. Somewhere beneath her panic, Ivy’s heart burned for the girl and everything she had been through.

“It’s okay, baby, I couldn’t care less about the jar, accidents happen. I-”

“Don’t feel good,” Harley groaned.

Ivy steeled herself. “Harley, you need to kiss me. 

Harley stopped her groaning and looked up in surprise.

“That stuff will kill you,” Ivy explained to her. “This berry and my toxins can stop it.”

Harley’s brow furrowed weakly. “I always want to kiss you even though we’re best friends, but I don’t want to complicate nothing...”

“Fuck it, just-” and Ivy cradled the back of Harley’s head, pulled her up, and pressed their lips together. She worked open Harley’s mouth with her own, tasting her, spreading the fruit between them. Somewhere, beneath the hammering of her heart in her ears, this felt so damn good, but she couldn’t allow herself to take any conscious pleasure in it, not if Harley was going to die in her arms...

Harley looped an arm around the back of Ivy’s neck to try to keep her there, but whined when Ivy pulled back. “If it means you do that to me, I’m gonna drop that stuff every chance I get,” Harley said, grinning lazily. Ivy scanned her face, her eyes; Harley’s eyelids fluttered, but the light didn’t seem to be leaving her. She pressed a hand over Harley’s chest - her heart was beating light and fast, but still beating.

Ivy let out an exhale. “You better not. That is a high-grade hallucinogenic, designed to dilate blood vessels, spike hormones and your sympathetic nervous system, speed up your heart rate, make your skin hypersensitive...”

Harley propped herself up on her elbows, her eyes darkening as she looked up at Ivy. “Are you telling me this stuff...turns me on?” A wicked grin spread across her face.

“It...” Ivy swallowed. “Put simply, yes, but it’s a poison; it builds and builds, and without the antidote, you’d have complete loss of function and your heart stops.”

“And you gave me the antidote,” Harley said, holding Ivy’s hand over her heart. “See? Still beating. So I’m...okay?”

“You’re not going to die. I’ll get you through...whatever else happens.”

“Whaddya mean by “get me through whatever else?””

“I’ll…” She felt her face turn red. She could talk about sex with Harley any day; they had spent many a night telling stories, mostly Ivy’s. But talking about sex with Harley...she berated herself for suddenly blushing at this. “You're going to want. I’ll keep you as even as I can, if that’s okay with you.”

It took Harley a moment to understand, but she nodded eagerly and placed her hand over Ivy’s on her chest.

“But I don’t know how long this will last, or how bad it could get,” Ivy added cautiously. “You inhaled a lot.”

She didn’t need to explain further - Harley’s heart rate was speeding up under their fingers, her breathing coming faster. Her lips trembled as she looked up at Ivy, with a hunger in her heavily-lidded eyes and poisonous smile that shot heat down Ivy’s spine.

“And how much did you get from kissin’ me?” Harley asked, legs starting to writhe and twitch.

“I have a tolerance, but I got...” Ivy took a shuddering breath as Harley surged upward, and “enough” was lost in the heat of Harley’s mouth. 

Harley had inhaled so much of it that Ivy was absorbing it simply through her saliva; she could feel the powder creeping through her veins, and the way Harley was moving against her didn’t help. Her heart pounded in her head but the blood was rushing anywhere but - her skin burned, set alight everywhere Harley touched her. Ivy waved a hand; a dozen potted plants flew off the nearest table and she and Harley were horizontal on it before Ivy fully understood what was happening, Harley above her, hands on her shoulders, her stomach, her breasts, palming through the shirt. She ground her hips against Ivy’s thighs, inhaling shuddering, open-mouthed breaths against her lips.

“We need...to breathe,” she panted. If she was this lightheaded, this out of her mind, this desperate, she could only imagine what Harley was feeling. The powder wouldn’t kill her...but it still might break her. 

Harley whimpered. “I need it, so bad…”

“I know, I know, sweetheart, I’ve got you. You’re safe with me. We just can’t lose control, we need to ride it out-”

Harley moaned and it vibrated through every fiber of her being. She bit down on Ivy’s lip. “Then stop talking,” she breathed, with new purpose as she took hold of Ivy’s hands and moved them between their bodies, “and help me...ride it out.”

So enamored was she by the vision of Harley straddling her that Ivy hardly realized where her hands ended up, until she felt them brushing the soft skin of inner thighs. It was a shock to her system: she felt the pooling heat even through Harley’s tight clothes. Harley rolled against her fingers. Her brief flash of logic vanished in that heat and Ivy scrambled to find the tight seam between her pants and her skin, and she could feel herself scratching Harley’s thighs in the rush, but Harley just keened above her with every touch, pleasure and pain rolled up into one furious storm. 

“I need you, Pamela, please, I need you, I need you, I need you.” Harley whimpered. Ivy found the edge of the fabric and forced her hand inside; the fabric gave way with popping seams but that didn’t matter. “Please, please, please-”

Her begging choked off as Ivy sunk two fingers into her and for a heartbeat, Harley froze - head thrown back, muscles tensed, mouth open to the sky, and Ivy could only stare up at her in shock. And then, like gravity was taking hold and pulling her back to earth, Harley’s thighs gave way and she collapsed down onto Ivy’s fingers, rolling, shaking, riding her desperately. She dropped her head and captured Ivy’s lips again, biting down hard on her lower lip and pulling until they both tasted blood.

“Fuck, Harls,” Ivy said, with a ragged laugh. Harley giggled, not losing her rhythm as she licked across the new cut on Ivy’s lip.

“Yes, finally you’re catching on, Red,” she panted, “fuck me.”

Which was not something she could refuse anymore.

She sat up, bracing herself with her free arm and twisting her fingers up into Harley’s slick cunt with new venom, harder and faster than before, a rhythm that Harley could hardly match with her shaking legs. The muscles gave way; Harley collapsed forward as Ivy continued to fuck her, bringing her skin close and allowing Ivy to bite and lick a path across the sweaty, burning skin of her shoulder and collarbone.

“Please, please - I’m - I’m going to-”

She couldn’t choke the words out around the heaving moans. Ivy raised her mouth to Harley’s ear and hissed it:

“Come.”

And she did, in great gasps, one after another, her body rigid under Ivy’s touch as the muscles around her fingers trembled like a leaf in a hurricane. Harley fell apart like she existed, in beautiful, technicolor chaos, out of her mind and shaking. She gripped the back of Ivy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together as she crashed down, mumbling unintelligible praises and pleas and curses, out of which Ivy could really only understand her name. And after the crash, her body weighed heavy; it shook, shuddered as Ivy withdrew her fingers, and at last Harley found her voice.

“Holy fuck,” she breathed, “God, Ive, fuck, you’re...you’re...”

“Don’t say anything,” Ivy mumbled, trying to lever them upright and trying to catch her breath - which promptly rushed out of her lungs as  Harley pushed a hand down the flat plane of her stomach and under her waistband.

“...you’re so fucking wet !” Harley finished, with surprise. “You said you had a tolerance, you-"

Ivy’s skin burned hotter, and this time, not because of the powder. Whatever blood that hadn’t already rushed to her center crept up into her face. “I thought I did, I guess I’m still developing it,” she breathed. She reached for Harley’s hand to pull it away, but the girl didn’t budge. 

“So you want this as bad as I do, huh?” Harley said, dark eyes shining.

“Harley, you’re not out of the woods-”

“Don’t wanna be,” Harley mumbled against Ivy’s jaw, with a giggle, “If these are the woods I wanna be in them, always, with you.”

She swept her fingers up over Ivy’s clit, spreading the warmth so that her fingers glided more easily. Then she worked her fingers in slow, tender motions, with an uncharacteristic restraint - she rubbed two fingers on either side of it, not touching directly, watching intently the way Ivy’s own resolve slipped away with every touch. Ivy kept their gazes locked; there was something hypnotic about seeing Harley so still, so focused, so generous and tender. For several seconds, Ivy couldn’t feel her fingers - she could only see her face. That was all that mattered.

And then, of course, Harley hit the right spot and Ivy’s body rocked towards her fingers with a shamefully primal response. Harley smirked and kissed a path from Ivy’s lips to her ear

“Whatdya want me to do?” Harley whispered, breath hot against Ivy’s skin, poisoned honey sweetness on her tongue.

Ivy was losing her grip. “I want you...to breathe...so that I can get you through this...so that you don’t...break...”

Harley giggled again. “Well, I’ve always wondered what you taste like and I kinda want to eat you out, so...” She started to move down Ivy’s body.

“Harley, wait!”

Harley froze, her hands on the waistband of Ivy’s pants, ready to pull; she looked up and they locked gazes.

“Say the word, and I’ll stop,” Harley said, suddenly serious, suddenly tender, “Say you don’t want it and I can finish myself off for the rest of the night and you can finish yourself off and in the morning we’ll get mimosas and I’ll be fine, I promise, Pam-a-lamb-”

Ivy could feel the blood pounding against her skin, her body pulsating, throbbing. “I want you so bad,” she gasped out, “but I want you to be okay more than anything.”

“Oh, Red, I am so, so fuckin’ fine...”

The room spun as Harley pulled away Ivy’s clothes and lowered herself down, spreading Ivy’s thighs with her shoulders; Ivy was certain that the entire building shook when Harley inclined her head and blew a soft, hot breath over her cunt. 

Her head snapped up with a strangled “Harley-” before the girl sealed her mouth against her and Ivy hit the edge, almost immediately. Even without the powder, what she just did to Harley would have brought her here. 

And just as quickly as she approached it, came the realization that she should have taken Harley’s offer back when the girl wanted to play nice. 

She should have known what savage pleasure Harley would take in this. Her tongue moved over Ivy’s clit with a deliberate slowness, her sparkling eyes watching Ivy’s face for every twitch and contortion that plainly spelled out exactly how slow she needed to go to keep Ivy dangling there. Even through the haze of heat and lust, Ivy couldn’t look away from those eyes.

“Harley,” she whimpered, trying to move her hips to generate more friction, but Harley held her down and laughed against her. She was so strong, and if Ivy wasn’t mindless and moaning, she would have been able to push back, assert her power, but under Harley’s gaze and tongue, Ivy was fucking powerless. The best she could do was reach down and knot her fingers in Harley’s hair, pulling, trying to get Harley to give her anything else, but it was useless: the girl bounced between masochistic and sadistic with alarming ease, and Ivy pulling her hair did nothing but encourage her. To prove it, Harley pulled away, flashing a playful smirk. 

“Harley, come on .”

“I already did, remember? It’s your turn.”

Ivy dropped her head back with a frustrated groan. “You have to add the dumb jokes too?”

“Yes,” came out muffled against the inside of Ivy’s thigh. Before Ivy could protest again, Harley flicked her tongue over Ivy’s clit with a deft arrogance that made Ivy’s head spin.

She switched targets. “The powder hasn’t run its course, an orgasm only delays it, you’re going to start feeling it again, you won’t last-”

“I’ll last longer than you.”  Another flick of her tongue, another jolt of Ivy’s hips.

“- and I’ll make you regret this, Harls,” she finished in a stuttering moan. 

“Sure you will, Red,” Harley said, dripping sarcasm, but Ivy heard the slightest of strain in her voice. “Now relax and lemme make you feel good.”

She took a wicked delight in stretching out Ivy’s suffering, alternating leisurely motions with her tongue on Ivy’s cunt with sharp, quick bites along the sensitive inner skin of her thighs; and all of Ivy’s talking and threats belied the burning, consuming want pooling deep inside her. She had never felt like this, with anyone, powder-induced or otherwise. She had never wanted someone so wholly and completely, every inch of them, every part of her. Harley could have broken her open and Ivy would have thanked her, if only it kept her close, kept their skin together.

“Harley...” she groaned, as Harley teased the tips of her fingers right on the edges of where Ivy so desperately needed them. “I was so good to you- God-”

She gasped out the last word because in that moment Harley pushed two fingers inside and crooked them just right and Ivy saw stars.

Harley was at her ear then, still working her fingers as she nipped at Ivy’s earlobe. “You’re right, gorgeous, I’m sorry.”

Ivy tipped her head back and laughed. “That’s a lie,”she panted. Harley was bringing her closer and closer, higher and higher; it was more and more of a struggle to get the words out. “You’re just...you’re starting to feel it again, and you can’t fight it off anymore.”

Harley’s brow furrowed as she tried to keep focus on Ivy’s face, and that told Ivy everything she needed to know. It was apparent: the faster breathing, the way Harley was tapping her foot where she thought Ivy couldn’t see, the lack of smooth rhythm and control in her moments. The fire was catching, spreading, and Harley wouldn’t last. 

Ivy smirked, and Harley knew she was found out. She gave in.

Now desperate, she dropped back between Ivy’s trembling legs, let go of her hips, and earned Ivy’s next moan with the press of her silky hot tongue in time with the thrust of her fingers. Set free, Ivy’s hips rolled against Harley, and one hand fisted in Harley’s hair to keep her there while the other flew to her own.

And she held on - to both of them - as Harley drove her to the edge with everything she had, and, like everything Harley did, there was no more subtlety or restraint in her mouth or fingers as Ivy’s body tightened and her orgasm crashed over her, sudden and hot and blinding. 

Harley’s mouth anchored her to earth as she drifted, the only thing keeping her there, the only thing keeping her human - always Harley. Harley. Since the day they met, Harley had had a piece of her, and so long as Harley had that one small piece, Ivy could never be truly gone, no matter how dark things got. Harley was the only person who could do this to her; and the only person she would let see her like this. 

The only person she would give all of herself to.

She came down gradually, still shaking, and when she opened her eyes, Harley hovered over her, licking glistening lips with stars in her eyes; she examined every inch of Ivy’s face, memorizing it. A smile crept over her features; Ivy couldn’t help but match it.

“You’re pretty all the time, but you’re especially pretty like that, Red.”

She pulled Harley down into a lazy, grinning kiss.

They floated in the dreamy, hazy post-orgasm glow, kissing and touching and trying to catch their breaths. Ivy could still feel the effects of the powder - the thrumming in her veins, the heat in her stomach. The orgasm had lessened the burn but so long as it was in her system, that desperate craving for touch wouldn’t go away.

But Harley didn’t have her tolerance. And Harley’s breathing was starting to shallow out again, her legs were starting to twitch.

“Hey Harls,” Ivy mumbled, eyes closed. Harley snuggled into her side and hummed a response. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Fine,” Harley said quickly.

“Mhmm. You’re sure?”

She felt Harley nod against her chest.

“You’re not still feeling the effects?”

“Nope. Totally clear here. I’m not...” she faltered. “I don’t need ta...”

Ivy trailed her fingers down the length of Harley’s torso, feeling the muscles shiver under her touch like the slenderest of vines. A little whine of need slipped out of the depths of Harley’s throat. She pressed herself more tightly to Ivy’s side, grinding her hips in search of friction.

“That stuff...we need to sell that stuff,” Harley muttered. “Maybe I can still feel it...”

“You can,” Ivy said. “And the thing is, if you keep going at Harley Quinn speed, 125 miles an hour, you’ll give out long before it does.”

Harley responded with a scoff, rolling on top of Ivy and pinning her down. “C’mon, Red, I have a few more rounds in me, you tryin’ ta say you don’t? Am I really that good?”

Ivy smirked up at her; Harley was so focused on flirting with her that she didn’t see the small wave of Ivy’s fingers.

“You’re not bad. And I have more in me...but I need to make sure you outlast this stuff.”

“I-”

The vines wrapped around Harley’s wrists and ankles, and all of her brazen arrogance vanished in an instant. The shock on her face nearly made up for the loss of her slender warm weight on Ivy’s lap as the vines lifted her up and away.

Ivy took her time levering herself up from the table, brushing through her long hair so that it cascaded cleanly over her shoulders once more; she pulled off her shirt, then turned and arranged herself on the edge of the table, legs crossed, and arms folded across her bare chest.

Harley was a beautiful sight, strung up by the pink flowering vines. Ivy’s body ached to touch her again, but Harley, having gone longer without coming, was feeling the acute toxicity of the powder: her skin was shining with sweat, her chest heaving again as she strained uselessly at the vines. Ivy smirked, cocked her head onto her shoulder.

“What did I tell you about teasing me, Harley?” she asked, raising a brow.

“C’mon, Red,” Harley panted in a poor attempt at bargaining. Her voice wavered. “Please, I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“Hmm, still lying?” Ivy asked softly. 

She slid off the table and glided forward; the vines reacted to her, lifting Harley up onto a nearby workbench and spreading her legs. Ivy stepped neatly between them, leaned in...Harley, already gasping, reached for her lips but Ivy gracefully avoided her kiss, withdrawing instead with a vial from behind Harley. She twirled it in her fingers, studying Harley.

“Whassat?” Harley asked, breathless with nerves and need.

Ivy considered her thoughtfully. “If you get overwhelmed and want me to stop, say exactly that, okay? “Overwhelmed.””

Harley nodded, eyes wide, completely trusting. “What’s in the tube?”

Ivy opened it and dabbed some of the ruby red liquid over her lips.

“Just a numbing agent, a very mild paralytic at this dosage.” Ivy leaned in and let her hot breath roll over Harley’s skin as she spoke. “I want to take my time with you, Harley, and as sensitive as you are, I’m not sure how long you’d last without this.” 

She reached between their bodies, swiping the finger she used for the paralytic over Harley’s nipple; Harley gasped at the sensation and then looked down in surprise, jaw falling open.

“You’ll still be able to feel...something,” Ivy continued. “And it will feel good. But it won’t be enough to make you come, so it ensures I get to play as long as I want - and if you don’t want me to reapply it once it starts wearing off, you’ll be obedient for me, right?”

She kissed Harley gently - a test, they both knew it, and one that Harley immediately and purposefully failed with a sharp nip at Ivy’s already-tender lip. She released it in a mad peal of laughter.

Ivy pulled back, lips curling into a smile. “Understood, baby.”

She lowered herself to her knees, never breaking eye contact as she layered the tenderest, lightest of kisses on Harley’s cunt. Harley let out a moan that quickly went silent as she realized the light pressure of Ivy’s lips was the only thing she could feel. 

“You need to be controlled through this, until the powder wears off,” Ivy murmured against her clit, dragging out every letter so that Harley could feel it. Her legs shook. She ran her tongue over Harley, luxuriating in both the taste of her and the look of horror on the girl’s face as the deadened sensations gave her just enough pleasure to make the aching in the pit of her stomach so much worse.

Before long, Harley was shaking, pulling uselessly at the vines, her teeth clamped down on her lower lip so tightly that Ivy privately worried she might bite through it; but Ivy kept it up, a warm and steady pressure designed to burn Harley slowly, rather than ignite the hot fire she so desperately needed. Another half hour, and heavy sobs wracked Harley’s body. But though Harley could hardly feel it, her body was nonetheless responding, and Ivy enjoyed every drop of her wetness. Her own muscles were burning with need, sure, but nothing was as important as watching Harley through this. The powder really should have been acting more strongly on her, but she chalked that up to her own tolerance.

Another fifteen minutes of teasing and Harley’s body, so taut for so long, began to give in; her arms drooped, her head lolled, everything held aloft now only by the vines. Harley didn’t know that the paralytic was soon to wear off, but Ivy did, and she figured it was time for another test. 

She stood slowly, licking her way up Harley’s stomach, over her chest, and then up her neck to her ear.

“How do you feel, Harley?”

A choked sob. “Please,” Harley said, weak. “Please, Pamela, babe, I’m sorry...”

And she truly meant it; Ivy could feel it. She pulled back and kissed Harley, letting her feel her smile even if Harley lacked the strength to open her eyes and see it. As they kissed, Harley seemed to wake up - she felt it. Felt all of it. The paralytic had worn off.

Ivy waited for her eyes to open; as soon as they did, her hand snaked up between their bodies and wrapped around Harley’s throat, a gentle pressure just the right side of dangerous, but it was the danger that made it so thrilling. The danger, juxtaposed with her absolute trust in Ivy, was such a lovely combination. Something sparked in Harley’s glassy, dreamy gaze, and she smiled.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harley murmured.

“So are you,” Ivy whispered back. “Do you want to feel as good as you look?”

“Yes,” Harley moaned, lips trembling as she tried not to cry. “God, yes, please, I need it, I’ll do whatever you want, please...”

“Then tell me exactly what you want,” Ivy said, “and keep begging for it.” She tightened her fingers around Harley’s throat and by the way the girl moaned, she nearly came right there.

“Please fuck me, please, with your mouth and your fingers and your tongue and everything, I need it, all of you, please, I’m so sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be yours...”

“Good girl,” Ivy breathed, and without warning, pushed three fingers deep inside her. “Don’t stop, or I will.”

*

Ivy awoke to the late afternoon sun streaming through her window. As she stared at the ceiling in abject confusion, she was confronted by terrifying thought that the remnants of the semi-conscious, semi-crazed previous night may have just been some fever dream, the result of some long-suppressed desire that she would spend the rest of the week burying again. How could she look at Harley again after dreaming that night?

The moment the question crossed her mind, she became aware of someone else’s breathing - not just near her, but on her, soft exhales across her bare chest. She looked down.

Harley.

Harley, curled contentedly against her, all bare skin and messy pink and blue and blonde hair, sound asleep. Ivy blinked several times before she dared let herself believe it.

The second clue that last night was real was all she needed: she tried to move, and her body screamed in protest. Every inch of her ached, down to the bones; not unlike she’d survived the fight of her life against the worst of some loser’s brawlers...except this was a dull, pleasurable ache, the beginnings of the formation of muscle memory. Everything attuned to Harley.

And when she realized last night was real, every memory began to flood back in perfect clarity, despite the aphrodisiac powder that had nearly killed them both. They had somehow stumbled down the fire escape and back into the dark softness of Ivy’s room without falling five stories and breaking their necks, and continued going at it well into mid-morning. It was Harley who crashed out first, mid-makeout session, sprawled out on top of Ivy; Ivy hadn’t lasted much longer, dizzy with exhaustion and hunger, before she too had passed out.

On cue, Harley began to stir. Ivy remained perfectly still - if Harley didn’t remember last night as Ivy had, if she thought differently about all of this, the last thing Ivy wanted to do was scare her out of bed before she was even fully conscious. But her heart fluttered when Harley lifted a heavy head, peered at her from one open eye, and gave a soft smile.

“Mornin’, lovely,” she mumbled.

“Good morning,” Ivy said, equally soft. “Are you...okay?”

Harley’s smile broadened. She nodded. “Mhmm. Can’t imagine being better. You?”

“I’m...fine too,” she said, a little breathless. “I know I promised you mimosas but we should probably drink some water...”

Harley groaned with pleasure, a sound all too familiar and a little too close to home; Ivy squeezed her eyes hut. “Water, god, please,” Harley said, “I’m dyin’ over here. Water me like your plants, babe.”

Ivy returned with two full, cool glasses to see Harley sitting up in bed, sheets pooled around her waist. Even as smooth as Ivy could be, the sight nearly tripped her up. Ivy had left her marks the night before, yes, but not one of the shining red bites or bruises marred Harley’s beauty, or the shining smile on her face as she thanked Ivy for the water and downed the entire thing.

They had to talk about this. They had to discuss their friendship, what they meant to each other, what had happened last night, and how the powder had changed everything. Ivy knew all of those things instinctively, and yet, when Harley looked up at her with a quiet pout, Ivy couldn’t help but fall back into bed with her, tangling their limbs together in smooth, warm bliss.

“You’re amazing,” Harley murmured. “I...I’ve always wondered...I just didn’t know how much I wanted this for so long.”

“I did,” Ivy admitted, squeezing her eyes shut. She was laying herself bare here, more exposed than she had ever been, including last night. “I didn’t think about it, or at least I tried not to...I just never thought you’d want me back. I didn’t want to complicate anything.”

“I’ll always want you,” Harley said. “Always, always, always.”

And even if Ivy didn’t believe that promise would last forever, she let herself believe in it right now, as Harley Quinn nuzzled up under her chin and kissed her neck gently. They drifted along through semi-conscious tender caresses, until...

“You know, as much as I would love to lay here for the rest of my life with you, there’s that all-day brunch place down the street...” Harley said; as if she did it intentionally, her stomach rumbled, and they descended into laughter.

*

It would only take a few minutes, Ivy promised, but Harley still made a fuss about “wasting away to nothing” while Ivy dashed up the fire escape to check on the plants in the rooftop greenhouse.

The evidence of last night’s adventure was everywhere: the potted plants that had once been so organized, now scattered around the floor, the cleared-off table, the flowering vines that now hung limp above her workbench...Ivy moved through the greenhouse quickly, righting knocked-over saplings and flung watering cans. As she passed the corner where Harley had broken the powder jar, she stepped carefully over the fine, dark blue powder on the ground, not daring to disturb it and send herself into a frenzy again -

She froze. Dark blue?

“Pammmmy, come on!” Harley called from the doorway to the greenhouse. Ivy barely heard her. She stared at the powder, brow knitted in confusion, then looked up at the workbench. Belladonna, wolfsbane, liberty caps...and, the jar on the end, the one she could recognize by sight. The green and red label, with the black powder inside, the jaw fully intact.

Her mouth fell open.

“Harls?” she asked weakly. “Remember that jar you broke?”

Harley appeared at the end of the nearest row of flowers. “Uh, don’t think I’ll forget that for the rest of my life.”

“You said black powder, right?”

“Yeah...”

“But it was dark.”

“Yeah, dark like black.”

“No, I mean dark outside.”

“Because you’re always going to check on the plants no matter what time it is!” Harley threw up her hands, exasperated.

Ivy pointed at the blue powder on the ground. “This is where you dropped it, right?”

“Red, sweetheart, I am so down to roll around in that again but I gotta eat or else I’m going to-”

“Harley, this powder is dark blue.” And over Harley’s protest, Ivy knelt down, dragged a finger through it, and brought it to her nose. Ice shot through her. “This isn’t the aphrodisiac powder...it’s just a stimulant. A mild one.”

“Like....cocaine?”

“Like caffeine . Enough to keep us up for a few hours, nothing more...”

Harley’s face went blank. “Are you saying that powder didn’t do nothin’ to us? And we...”

The numb shock of it sat Ivy down, hard; they stared at each other for a long moment.

“I’ve never felt like that with anyone,” Ivy said, her voice barely audible even to herself. “It had to have been the aphrodisiac powder, there’s no way...”

But it was. Every touch, every kiss, the burning in their skin and the longing in their stomachs...was organic. Ivy had lost track of how many times she had come last night; Harley hadn’t been able to speak by the time they were done. She had never needed anyone like she needed Harley and even still, as she relived each moment in one hot, dizzying flash, she still didn’t believe it...except for the fact that even now, free of any effects of the powder, she longed to reach out for Harley and pull her close.

That, she knew, was the truth. She had always known, deep down, that Harley rooted her to humanity - the girl was almost too human, all emotion and fire and physical, material existence. So it only made sense that Ivy felt her most human, her most vulnerable, full of desire and longing, with Harley.

Appropriately, as she looked up at Harley with shining eyes and mused on her feelings for her, Harley’s lips were curling into a wicked little grin. 

“Well well well, looks like we finally found something that affects Miss Poison Ivy as much as she affects everyone else,” she said, triumphant. “Me.”

Ivy was on her feet at the bravado in Harley’s voice, blood heating up, red flush in her cheeks. She drew within a few inches of Harley, towered over her, but the girl didn’t flinch; in fact, it just made her all the more smug. She looked up at Ivy with darkened eyes and a half-cocked smile, and Ivy nearly lifted her onto the table again. Instead, she controlled herself and leaned in.

“I remember your begging last night,” she whispered, “Don’t get so proud of yourself.”

“Fine, fine,” Harley teased. “I won’t tell anyone that I drive you crazy...on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

Harley kissed her lightly. “We try out the real powder tonight.”