Love Doctors {Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy}

Chapter 3: Daddy Issues

**warning: this chapter contains some rather detailed actions that some might find disturbing. If you don't like that stuff, you might as well not read the rest of the book because it only gets worse from here ;) you have been warned. Happy reading!**

Poison Ivy's pov:
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*the next day*

     I never knew what time it was. There were no windows in my cell except for the one in the door. It was often very dark and gloomy. I craved the sunlight. I longed to dig my toes in the Earth's sweet soil and to return home and care for my plants. I was sure that they were dying without me. I could almost hear them begging for water. My throat went dry thinking about it, but I didn't push the thoughts away. Thoughts were all we had in Arkham, so I held onto them for as long as possible, imagining myself in different scenarios or what I would do whenever I broke out of this hell hole. I smiled as I pictured my great escape unfolding. People would die left and right by the very same plants that they tortured. I forced the smile away as I heard the familiar clicking sound of heels hitting the floor.

     The young psychiatrist, Harleen Quinzel, stopped in front of my door to insert her code. I quickly gathered up my bed covers and wrapped them around my body. Harleen noticed this and gave a small nod. The cell door opened with a click and Harleen appeared in the cell with a cardboard box.

    Honestly,  I could have cared less what was in the box. I was more distracted with her clothes. She wore an all black button up shirt with a white tie with solid black jeans similar to the ones she wore yesterday. Everything she worse was black except her white lab coat the hung down to her knees. She looked like an emo on steroids. Even her lipstick was black, which looked awful next to her already pale skin.

     "Black is not your color, Harleen." I stated smugly eyeing her up and down.

    She set the cardboard box at the foot of my bed looking up at me with a faint smile.

     "It's Dr. Quinz-" she hesitated. "Never mind. Call me Harleen if you want. I've heard worse."

     I gave my head a slight tilt in confusion, but shrugged it off. I knew I could break her. I could break anyone. I was hoping that she would have gone down with a little more of a fight however. I internally pouted. Harleen took a seat across from my bed and for a moment, we just stared at each other in silence.

     "And yes I am aware black is not my color, Pamela. However, I happen to be going to a funeral after work, so I don't have much of a choice." She admitted.

     "Oh...I'm sor-"

     Harleen held her hand up, stopping me mid sentence. She closed her eyes for a second before opening them back up, revealing her perfectly soft blue eyes. I bit the inside of my lip imagining staring into those eyes for all eternity. Gross.

     "Stop. I did not come for pity. This isn't about me; this is about you. Look in the box." Harleen demanded as she gestured towards the cardboard sitting on the floor.

     I gaped at the sudden mood change. Harleen took notice of this and smugly smiled. I quickly returned back to my resting face and peeked over the edge of my bed into the box. I lifted the box carefully onto the bed next to me.

     The first thing my eyes laid on was a solid orange jumper. The kind you would see in prison movies. It was very generic and uncreative. I held it out in front of me. On the back read: "Dr.Pamela Isley". I rolled my eyes.

     "Is there a problem, Pamela?" Harleen asked.

     "My name is Poison Ivy."

     "Poison Ivy, huh?" She scribbled something down on her clipboard. "Why not Pamela?"

     "Pamela is dead. Has been for awhile. Why do you care? It's just a name." I retorted.

     "If it's just a name, why do you refer to it as a 'she'?" She questioned.

     "Because that was the old me. The weak and vulnerable little girl who was taken advantage of. Now I am Poison Ivy." I stated holding my hands out.  "Mother nature's protector and one badass woman."

     "Weak and vulnerable? Does this have to do with your father?" Harleen pushed.

     I gripped the jumpsuit tightly, turning my knuckles a lighter shade of green. I clenched my teeth together as my foot violently gave a stomp on the ground. I stood up, bed sheets still covering me, and marched over to where Harleen was sitting.

     I put my foot on the bottom of her chair and pushed it against the wall with ease. After all, Harleen was as thin as a stick. I put my hands on either sides of the walls by her head in a dominating position. The bed sheets dropped to the floor, but I was to angry to care.

     "My father was an abusive prick who would have traded his family for alcohol if given the chance." I hissed, my eyes shooting daggers into Harleen's.

     I watched as Harleen's eyes grew wide with fear and her bottom lipped quivered. She couldn't maintain eye contact with me no matter how hard she tried. She kept looking down at my......
Oh shit.

     I knew what she was looking at. I knew very well. I knew, and yet, I didn't stop her. I let her look. I watched as her eyes lifted and gazed upon my naked body before meeting my eyes again. She looked frightened, but also desperate. I reached my hand down to her neck and gave it a non-threatening Choke. Most people would have feared for their life, but not Harleen. The moment my hand touched her neck, her eyes lit up with excitement. I bit my bottom lip to refrain myself from smiling.

     "What's wrong, Harleen?" I asked making myself appear taller. "Is someone a little touch starved?"

     Harleen's face blushed harder than anyone I had ever seen before. She pushed her glasses back up her face and ducked under my arms. Still blushing, she hurried out of the room without another word.

     "You can come back to play any time, Harleen." I teased as she disappeared into the hallway.

     Once I saw she was gone, I let out a heartfelt laugh. It was the first time I had genuinely laughed in awhile. I mean, it was hysterical! I had always known men were easily turned on, but women were never as easy. But I didn't even have to try hard to put Harleen under a spell.

     "I'll have to remember that trick for my next psychiatrist." I thought to myself.

      Harleen left in such a hurry, she forgot to grab the cardboard box. I slipped into the tacky orange jumpsuit and used the wall to push the zipper up in the back of the suit. I peaked back into the box to find a journal and a pen. I squinted my eyes in fury.

     "So somehow she thinks writing on a bunch of dead trees is going to make me feel better?" I said out loud, not caring who heard.

     I smiled at the pen. I had a better use for the pen than writing. I peaked outside my door window to make sure no one was looking. The hallway was empty. Perfect. I undid the zipper of my jump suit and positioned myself on my bed to where my back was against the wall and my legs were spread open.

      I slowly pushed the pen into my.....well.....vagina.  
It had been so long since I felt anything down there. The pen sent shivers of pleasure through my body. I moved the pen faster and faster until my back arched and my legs shook. I found myself thinking of none other than Harleen herself. I imagined her soft hands inside of me. I imagined her gentle voice asking me who it belonged to. I let a small moan escape my lips before realizing the cells echoed. I forced myself to stay quiet, biting my lip until it bled green liquid.

     I finally opened my eyes to see Harleen standing at the cell door looking through the window with a disgusted look on her face.

     "You like what you see? Move along." I teased.

     "Pamela, that is NOT what that was supposed to be used for." She said shaking her head and gasping.

     "No, but it sure is a lot better." I winked at her.

      She shook her head and walked away not even caring. By the time she left, I was no longer in the mood. I threw the pen across the room and put my
jumpsuit back on. I frowned realizing that I had just masterbaited to Harleen. HARLEEN. That was my psychiatrist for heaven's sake. I threw myself into the bed and forced myself to go to sleep. I wasn't tired; I just wanted to escape reality.