#hqas

The cheap, cloying scent of cologne hit me like a slap to the face the second I kicked open the door to Ivy’s greenhouse. His cologne. Kite Man’s. And there they were, tucked away in her favorite grove of phosphorescent mushrooms, his gangly arm draped over her shoulder like a dead vine. Ivy was smiling, a real one, not the wicked grin she saves for burning down corporate headquarters, but a soft, private thing that made my stomach twist into a knot.

“Well, well, well,” I chirped, the cheer in my voice so forced it hurt my own throat. “Don’t let me interrupt the fucking garden party.”

Ivy’s head snapped up, her emerald eyes wide. “Harley! We were just—”

“I know what you were just,” I interrupted, marching forward. The plants seemed to recoil from me. “I can smell him all over you, Red. It’s fucking gross.” I pointed a trembling finger at Kite Man. “Scram, bird-brain. The grown-ups need to talk.”

He stammered something, looking to Ivy for backup, but she just gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod. He scrambled to his feet and flew off, a pathetic hell yeah echoing behind him.

The second he was gone, the facade cracked. My chest was heaving, a raw, possessive anger boiling up from a place I didn’t even know I had.

Ivy stood, sighing. “Harley, what is this about? You know it’s not—”

I didn’t let her finish. I closed the distance between us, grabbing a fistful of her leaf-green bodysuit and crushing my mouth to hers. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was a claim. A fucking statement.

She gasped against my lips, her body stiff with surprise for just a second before she melted, her mouth opening under mine with a low, shuddering moan. I could taste him on her, that bland, ordinary taste, and it just made me kiss her harder, my tongue plunging into her mouth to wipe it all away, to mark her with my taste, my fucking claim.

I broke the kiss, both of us panting. “He doesn’t know you,” I snarled, my voice ragged. “He doesn’t know what you need. He’ll never fuck you like I do.”

My hands were everywhere, tearing at the fasteners of her suit. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, Pam. I’m gonna fuck you until you forget your own fucking name. Until the only thing you remember is me.”

The suit gave way, pooling at her feet. Her skin, cool and smooth like polished jade, glowed under the strange light of her plants. I shoved her back against the thick, warm trunk of a bio-luminescent tree, the moss cushioning her. My mouth found her neck, biting and sucking, desperate to leave a mark he would see later. My mark.

“He thinks this is just fun, doesn’t he?” I whispered against her skin, my hand sliding down the flat plane of her stomach, my fingers tracing the waistband of her panties. “He doesn’t think about what this does. Doesn’t think about planting his fucking seed in you.” I hooked my fingers into the fabric and ripped it aside. “But I do.”

My fingers plunged into her, and she cried out, her back arching off the tree trunk. She was already so wet, so hot and ready for me. “I think about it all the fucking time, Pam.” I drove my fingers in deep, curling them, finding that spot that made her see stars. “I think about filling this perfect fucking pussy with my cum. I think about watching your belly get round with my baby. Mine. Not his. Mine.”

“Harley…” she moaned, her own hands clawing at my back, pulling at my own clothes.

“Say it,” I demanded, fucking her with my fingers, the wet, slick sound echoing in the humid air. “Tell me who’s gonna breed you.”

I pulled my fingers out, dropping to my knees in front of her. I didn’t give her a chance to answer. I buried my face between her legs, my tongue lashing her clit with a furious, desperate need. Her thighs clamped around my head as she screamed, a raw, unfiltered sound of pure pleasure. I fucked her with my tongue, deep and hard, tasting her essence, the proof of her desire. She was mine. All fucking mine.

She came with a violent shudder, her whole body trembling as she ground herself against my mouth. I drank her in, not stopping until her legs went weak. I stood up, tearing off my own clothes, my gaze locked on hers. Her eyes were glazed, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling in rapid bursts.

I turned her around, bending her over the wide tree trunk. She braced her hands against the bark, offering herself to me. I pressed my body against her back, my cock, hard and aching, sliding between her slick folds from behind. After all, Ivy cooked up some serum for me a while back — something experimental. I loved the results.

“This is my pussy,” I growled in her ear, one hand gripping her hip, the other tangling in her fiery hair. “And I’m gonna put a baby in it. Right fucking now.”

I slammed into her. One brutal, perfect thrust that filled her completely. She screamed my name, a sound of pure ecstasy, her inner walls clamping down on me like a vise. “Fuck, Harley! Yes!”

I set a punishing rhythm, each thrust a punctuation mark on my claim. The wet, slapping sound of our skin meeting filled the greenhouse, a filthy, beautiful music. I could feel her tightening around me again, another orgasm building. My own coiled low in my belly, a pressure ready to explode.

“You feel that?” I panted, my thrusts becoming frantic, losing all rhythm. “You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside you, Pam. I’m gonna flood that perfect womb. I wanna feel you milking my cock for every fucking drop.”

“Do it,” she begged, pushing back against me, meeting every thrust. “Please, Harley, I want it. I want your cum. Fuck, fill me up!”

Her words were the final trigger. I came, pulsing inside her, my release hot and endless as I collapsed against her back, my body shuddering with the force of it. I felt her climax around me a second later, her own cries muffled against the tree bark, her body milking me for every last drop.

We stayed like that for a long moment, panting, dripping with sweat, my cock still nestled deep inside her. I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear.

“No more Kite Man,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “This… this is what you need. I’m what you need. Tell me you understand.”

I felt her shift beneath me, her hand reaching back to grab my thigh, her grip possessively tight.

//////

The humid, sweet-rot scent of Ivy’s greenhouse did nothing to calm the storm in my head. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks since I claimed her, since I poured myself into her and made my intentions perfectly fucking clear, and now she was avoiding me. The avoidance itself was a confession.

I found her not in her usual mushroom grove, but deeper, in the section she calls the "heart-root chamber," where thick, pulsing vines crawl up the walls and the air is so thick with pheromones it's hard to breathe.

She was tending to a venus flytrap, her back to me, but her shoulders were tense. She knew I would show up here eventually, probably.

“Red,” I said, my voice flat. No cheer, no fake giggles. The game is over.

She turned slowly, and her eyes gave her away instantly. There was a fear there, a guilt that shakes me to my fucking core.

“Harley…” she starts, her voice softer than the moss under our feet.

“Don’t,” I cut her off, taking a step forward. My boots sank into the soft earth. “Just say it. Whatever it is. Just fucking say it.”

She looked down at her hands, at the rich soil clinging to her green fingers. “I’m late.”

The words hung in the air. They didn’t compute. Late. Late for what? A villain meet-up? A robbery?

And then it clicked.

The math. The timing. His timing. Just like that, the world tilted on its axis, the vibrant greens and glowing blues of the chamber bleaching into a blinding, white-hot rage.

“No,” I whispered.

“I took three tests, Harl. They all—”

“No!” The word ripped out of me, a raw, wounded sound. I was across the room in a heartbeat, my hands grabbing her shoulders, squeezing too tight. I saw the wince of pain on her face, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. “That’s not possible. It’s mine. I filled you up. I fucking bred you. You’re carrying my baby.”

She shakes her head, tears welling in those beautiful, traitorous eyes. “The timing… it’s not. It’s his, Harley. It’s Kite Man’s.”

The name was a physical blow. Kite Man. That pathetic, flying joke. His bland, ordinary seed taking root in my garden. Polluting my soil. The rage wasn’t hot anymore; it was cold. Calculated. A surgeon’s scalpel of pure, undiluted fury.

I released her shoulders, my hands falling to my sides, clenched into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms.

“Okay,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Okay.”

I turned and walk out of the chamber. She called my name, but it was a distant echo.

I have a kite to catch.

//////

In the end, it was almost too easy. He was at his sad little ‘lair’ — a converted warehouse with kites everywhere — and he didn’t even hear me come up behind him. A rag soaked in my own special blend of chloroform and laughing gas over his mouth, and he was out cold. Hell yeah, you fucking idiot.

I dragged him back to the greenhouse, his stupid limbs getting caught on everything. Ivy was right where I left her, her face a mask of horror as I dumped his unconscious body into a large, throne-like chair made of woven thorns. I used thick, living vines to bind his wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair, ensuring they tightened if he struggles.

“Harley, what are you doing?!” Ivy cried, rushing forward.

“I’m fixing his mistake,” I snarled.

With that, I slapped Kite Man’s face until he groaned, his eyes fluttering open. Confusion, then fear, as he took in the binds, the location, me looming over him, and Ivy standing there, half-terrified, half-turned on.

“Wha… Harley? Ivy?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I hissed, grabbing a handful of his hair and wrenching his head back. “You’re going to watch. You’re going to see what a real claim looks like. You’re going to see who really owns the pussy you polluted.”

I shoved his head back and turned to Ivy. “Come on.”

I grabbed the front of her tunic and rip it open, the sound of tearing fabric like a gunshot in the tense air. Her perfect, round. lushly green tits spilled out, her nipples already hard peaks. Is it from fear? Or from me? I decided I didn’t care.

I claimed one with my mouth, sucking the deep green bud hard between my lips, biting down just on the right side of pain. She gasped, her hands flying to my head, not to push me away, but to hold me there.

“That’s it,” I murmured against her skin, my hand sliding down her stomach, over the faint, impossible swell that makes my vision go red again. “You’re still so fucking wet for me, aren’t you? Even now.”

My fingers found her slit through her flowered deep green leggings, pressing hard against the soaked fabric. She was drenched. Soaking. Her body betrays her every fucking time.

I tore the leggings down, not even bothering to take them off, and pushed her back against a broad, warm leaf, her ass perched on its edge, her legs spread wide.

A perfect presentation. For me. And for him.

I dropped to my knees, my face inches from her glistening cunt. I could smell her, that intoxicating mix of flora and pure, unadulterated arousal. And underneath it… him.

The ghost of his pathetic fuck. It made me insane.

“Look at him, Pam,” I commanded, not touching her yet. She turned her head, her eyes meeting Kite Man’s horrified, captivated gaze. “Look at him while I erase him.”

My tongue was a ruthless fucking weapon. I speared it into her hole, fucking her with it deep and rough, tasting every inch of her inner walls. I lashed her clit with the flat of my tongue, then sucked the aching nub between my lips, pulling on it until her whole body jerks. Soon enough, she was sobbing, moaning, her hips bucking against my face.

“Oh fuck… Harley… please…” she begged.

“Please what?” I growled, pulling back for a second, my lips and chin glistening with her. “You want my tongue back in your filthy cunt? You want me to clean his fucking mess out of you?”

“Yes! God, yes!” she cried, her head thrashing back and forth.

I dove back in, fucking her with my tongue until my jaw ached, until her cries seemed to blend into one continuous scream, until I couldn’t taste anything but her. Pure Ivy. My Ivy.

I stood up, unbuckling my black and red belt, letting my pants fall. I’m bare underneath, harder than ever, and so I grabbed her hips, yanking her to the very edge of the leaf. I lined myself up, the head of my cock pressing against her soaked, stretched entrance.

Breathless, I looked over my shoulder at Kite Man. His face was pale, his mouth was agape. He was hard. The pathetic fuck was hard watching this.

“Watch closely, bird-brain,” I snarled. “Watch how a real woman claims what’s hers.”

I slammed my entire length into her in one brutal, perfect thrust. She gasped, a sound of utter devastation and ecstasy, her inner walls spasming around my pale white cock like a fist. It’s so fucking tight, so hot, so right.

I set a punishing, relentless pace, pounding into her, the sound of our bodies meeting a filthy, wet slap that echoed through the chamber. Each thrust was a negation of him. Each deep plunge was my seed claiming hers, my ownership overwriting his.

“You feel that?!” I grunted, driving into her, my eyes locked on Kite Man’s. “You feel how deep I’m fucking her? This is my pussy! Mine! Your pathetic little fuck didn’t plant a seed, it left a stain. And I’m scouring it clean!”

Ivy was a writhing, moaning mess beneath me, her nails digging into the leaf beneath her, her back arched. “It’s yours, Harley! It’s all yours! Fuck, please, I’m gonna cum! Make me cum!”

Her words send a jolt straight to my core. I fucked her harder, faster, my rhythm shattering into pure, animalistic need. I could feel the familiar coil in my own belly, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. I was gonna cum just from fucking her, from the sheer power of it, from the look on his stupid face.

“You hear that?” I panted, my thrusts becoming jerky, uncontrolled. “She’s gonna cum on my cock. My fucking cock. She’s gonna scream my name. Not yours. Never yours.”

I felt her climax erupt around me, a violent, clenching wave that milked the length inside her. Her scream of my name was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. My own orgasm crashed over me, a white-hot flash behind my eyes, my body convulsing as I rode out the waves of pleasure, fucking her through both of our releases.

I stayed buried inside her, panting, dripping with sweat, my body pressed against hers. I turned my head, my gaze finding Kite Man’s. He looked broken. Defeated.

I gave him a wide, vicious smile. The sound of my own heartbeat was a war drum in my ears, drowning out Kite Man’s ragged breathing. I stared at Ivy, at the slight, fucking infuriating swell of her belly, and a new, even more twisted plan bloomed in my mind, dark and beautiful like a nightshade flower.

“Get up,” I commanded her, my voice low and husky with renewed purpose.

She looked at me, her green eyes wide and glistening with a mix of fear and the lingering haze of her orgasm. “Harley… what…?”

I didn’t answer with words, I just grabbed her arm and hauled her off the broad leaf. She stumbled, her legs still shaky from the fucking I just gave her, and I loved that. I loved that I could reduce the most powerful woman in Gotham to a trembling, cum-drunk mess. I steered her toward the thorn-bound chair where Kite Man was struggling against his living restraints.

“You think his little fuck was enough to plant a seed?” I spat the words at her, my hand cupping her stomach possessively. “You think that’s a real baby growing in there? It’s a fucking parasite. A weak, pathetic mistake.”

I shoved her forward until she was standing right in front of him, her naked, glistening body on full display. His eyes were glued to her, to the curve of her waist, the swell of her breasts, the thatch of red curls between her legs that was still slick from my dick. He was hard. The pathetic fuck was still so fucking hard. Good.

“But we’re gonna use it,” I whispered into Ivy’s ear, my teeth grazing the lobe. “We’re gonna use his pathetic mistake to prove my point. Get on top of him.”

Ivy froze. “Harley, no…”

“Get. On. Top. Of. Him.” My voice dropped to a deadly whisper. “You’re going to ride his cock. You’re going to fuck him. And you’re going to look at me the entire time. You’re going to show me, and you’re going to show him, that every bit of pleasure you get from his pathetic dick… is for me.”

I saw the conflict warring on her face, the shame, the horror… and the dark, undeniable thrill that flickered in the depths of her pupils. Her body was already responding, a fresh sheen of moisture coating her inner thighs. She was so fucking corruptible. So mine.

Kite Man strained against the vines. “Ivy, don’t— you don’t have to—”

I backhanded him across the mouth. “Did I say you could fucking speak?”

I turned back to Ivy. “Now, Pam. Or I rip his fucking tongue out and feed it to your plants.”

A shudder ran through her. With trembling hands, she reached for the buckle of his pants. I watched, my own dick throbbing with a possessive, furious heat, as she fumbled with his belt, finally freeing his cock.

It was… adequate. Normal. Boring. Nothing like the perfect, thick length of my pale white dick that just split her open.

She hesitated, one hand on his thigh, looking at me for permission, for absolution.

“Do it,” I growled. “Sink down on it. Show me how little he means to you.”

She positioned herself over him, lowering her body slowly. I saw the moment the head of his cock pressed against her entrance, that same entrance I just claimed and fucked and filled. She gasped, a small, broken sound, as she impaled herself on him, sinking down until he was fully sheathed inside her.

“Fuck,” Kite Man moaned, his head falling back against the thorny chair, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Open your eyes, you piece of shit!” I snarl. “You look at me. You watch me watch my property use your dick.”

His eyes flew open, wide with fear and a bizarre, twisted arousal. He looked at me as Ivy began to move, a slow, tentative rock of her hips. Her face was a mask of anguish and pleasure, her eyes locked on mine.

She’s doing this for me. Only for me.

“That’s it,” I purred. “You feel that, Red? You feel that ordinary cock inside your extraordinary fucking pussy? It doesn’t belong there, does it?”

She shook her head, a tear tracing a path through the sweat on her cheek. Her hips moved faster, a little less tentative, a little more desperate.

“But you’re gonna cum on it, aren’t you?” I continued, circling my clit faster, my breath catching. “You’re gonna use his boring, simple dick to get yourself off… because I’m telling you to. Because I’m the one making you feel this good. Not him. Never him.”

“Yes, Harley,” she moaned, her voice breathy and broken. Her hands were on Kite Man’s chest for balance, but she’s not looking at him. Her gaze was welded to mine. “It’s for you. Only for you.”

I saw her rhythm change, becoming more urgent, more primal. Her breasts bounced with each movement, the beautiful green skin flushed with heat. Kite Man was just a tool beneath her, a breathing, pulsing dildo. His own pleasure was irrelevant. His choked grunts were just background noise.

“You’re getting close, aren’t you, baby?” I whispered, moving my fingers in tight, frantic circles, mimicking the way I know she’s clenching around him. “You’re gonna milk his cock for a cheap, pathetic orgasm… and you’re gonna give that orgasm to me. You’re gonna scream my name when you cum all over his worthless dick.”

“I am… I’m gonna…” she panted, her movements becoming frantic, losing all rhythm. Her inner muscles are fluttering, I can see it in the tense line of her thighs, in the way her stomach quivers.

“Do it,” I demanded, my own orgasm coiling tight, ready to snap. “Cum for me, Pam. Now.”

A guttural, wrenching sob tore from her throat as her body seized up. She grinded down on him hard, her back arching, her mouth open in a silent scream for a second before my name rips out of her.

“HARLEY!”

The sound of it, raw and desperate and utterly mine, triggered my own second climax. I cried out, my knees buckling slightly as pleasure, hot and sharp, lances through me. I watched her through the haze, my beautiful, submissive creature, shuddering through her orgasm on another man’s cock, her eyes glazed and fixed on me.

As her spasms subsided, she slumped forward, exhausted. I stepped close, cupping her chin, forcing her to look at me.

“Whose pleasure was that?” I asked, my voice dangerously soft.

“Yours,” she breathed, her voice wrecked. “All yours.”

I smiled, a cold, victorious thing. I look over her shoulder at Kite Man, who looks utterly shattered, used, and discarded.