#idk how ill tag her yet

[vehemourn]

FEVER DREAM - PLUMMET

[almondpiglet]

needed to draw something this year for tomes bday...really wanted to draw her highschool friends

[loud-whistling-yes]

so as literally everyone following me in the past 24 hours knows, im fucking obsessed with her. take her shes everything i have

[riiviir]

hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!

[squipdop]

sorry im a god gale truther btw i DO think he should get to usurp mystra and ascend to godhood and i do think that should be an absolutely awful thing to happen to him but also literally everyone else. sorry

[torchickentacos]

taylor idk who chappell roan is i think that makes me disqualified from being queer forever (←sapphic girl)

She's a musical artist! She's pretty up-and-coming right now and is seen as a wlw queer icon in the music industry, but I've never been able to get into her music even though tons of other sapphics love it. I probably just haven't given it enough of a chance. Casual is a good song though!

[sinisterness]

"From father's schematics, the palace is heavily fortified, though maybe not impregnable for me--"

During Katarina's preparations for assassinating King Jarvan III, and once she learns from Lux that he will not be at the execution personally, and instead within the palace, it was simply a matter of estimating which safe room the King would be placed in when Lux causes a distraction to save 'her prisoner.'

"At any sign of imminent threat... Jarvan is rushed to the nearest of his safe rooms hidden across the city. Which I know now will be in the palace itself."

Finding the secret room within the king's chambers, Katarina hid behind the chair and awaited the king to enter. There was always a chance that he wouldn't be brought to this one, but her assumptions of the guard's thought processes are all spot-on. With her equipment with her in case she survives the king's guards afterwards for a quick escape from the capital,

she waited for the king to lock himself into his own doom.

Additionally while we're here, within the Mageseeker's games second-final level is a partially burned note;

Thorn, Your service to the Pale Woman and our family has been unimpeachable. There is just one final task for you before you may leave that so-called "Great City": You shall aid the Sinister Blade in... [indecipherable] While it is highly improbable that she will succeed–let alone survive–luck has favored her foolishness before. She MUST NOT return to Noxus. You shall return in her stead. Do what you will with the light mage. She has served her purpose. [The signature is obscured, but a stamp of a rose seems to be visible on the blackened edge of the page.]

I believe this was for Jaredan, who shot the raptor knight Katarina was using to escape Demacia, followed her return to Noxus Prime, and was also the 'guard' who allowed Lux into the Arcane Registry (rooky mistake introducing himself with his real name - as Soreana later writes to him again and addresses him as Jaredan too)

[autisticlee]

when places have "sensory hours" or whatever they call their sensory friendly times, but it's always at the most inconvenient times possible. they always do them at the times people are least likely to be at/want to go. it's either way too early in the mornings or in the middle of work time, and it seems to always in the middle of the week and never weekends. they never care if they inconvenience disabled people. but how dare they ever inconvenience the ableds and take away their time! 🙄

[cherry-shipping]

ok Heres some thoughts now that im not stupidly sleepy anymore. i like thinking about dreamys first encounter with miles after entering his universe, freshly mutated and not having any real idea of whats going on, confused as fuck. so they see spiderman on the news and go “shit, thats the guy i gotta talk to, how the FUCK do i get in contact with him” and then IM THINKING they do something very silly and dramatic which is to stage a crime like an armed robbery or something so hell show up, then as soon as hes there they drop the weapon or whatever and go “oh good it worked. sorry about scaring everyone i just needed to talk to spiderman for a second ill find some way to pay for therapy if anyone needs it after this” and then telling him about their own powers so he can help

[kokolattx]

i am rabid i am frothing at the mouth, college is ending me but the semester is almost over!! the moment it ends im going to draw so much my hands will fall out!! also v happy here :] good vibes despite all the fictional murder going around

[opt1mistic]

FEVERED EMBRACE

caitlyn kiramman x reader. warnings/tags: sick!reader, sickness, fluff, idk what else. erm not proofread. wc: 0.5k

note: dying from the worst fever rn and need her to take care of me(someone save me i might actually die). this is lowkey shit, but i’m so very diseased that this is as good as it’ll get soooorryyyyyy :(

hammers pounding at the skull of your head, body arching as though it was made of lead. the world felt as if it was a hazy blur, the sheer light coming in from the window, searing your eyes. every shallow breath you took, felt tight in your throat, throbbing, getting stuck on the way to your lungs. leaving your vessel feeling restless and miserable.

caitlyn was there before you could even muster the strength to ask for her. her soft footsteps barely registered through the fog in your mind, but the touch of her cool hand against your feverish forehead sent a wave of relief crashing over you.

“you’re burning up,” her voice was soft, yet very concerned. sounding almost soothing, but the hint of worry was too overpowering to hear it. “why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

you try to answer, all you mutter out is a cough, a crunchy cough, that sounds awful. as if you have been chain smoking since the day you were birthed.

“shh,” caitlyn murmured, gently brushing strands of hair from your damp forehead. “don’t try to talk. let me take care of you.”

you sank back into the pillows as she busied herself, fetching a damp cloth to press against your skin, her touch achingly gentle. you’d never admit it, but the way she hovered over you, tending to every small discomfort, made the pounding in your chest rival the one in your head.

the coldness of the cloth soothes the pain, soothes the burning skin that stretched your body. the feeling of passing out getting closer and closer.

getting sick was the worst, but having caitlyn here, to take care of you wasn’t the worst thing. to have her hands massage you, her lips plant a kiss to your forehead, knowing that she might get infected as well. but all that meant was that you’ll get to take care of her too. so you didn’t protest.

her soft hands tucking the duvet covers around your body, fixing your pillows. helping you get as comfortable as she could, trying her hardest to rid of the unbearable, and unwanted pain you were experiencing.

she didn’t like to see you mop around in bed, sick to death. moaning and whimper. she was like a bear mother caring for her baby cubs, you were so fragile, like glass, that might break if you hold it too tight.

caitlyn didn’t care whether holding you would cause your contagious illness to pass on to her, all she wanted was to hold you tightly. and tell you that you’ll get better soon, that this hell will freeze over, and you’ll be good as new sooner or later.

her long arms wrapped around you, holding you, embracing you in her chest. your sickening body heat, and her own healthy heat, mixing together. oh how good it felt, the pounding hammer over your head suddenly became weaker, and the hold over your body weakened as well.

and without a second thought your body falls into the depths of your own mind as you doze off to your own made up wonderland.

©opt1mistic

[theyluvlyss]

𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 & 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲...

my head is all but consumed with thoughts only of wade wilson, logan howlett, and remy lebeau. they're all I can process in my head (besides shazam, but that's a given considering no one loves shazam the way I do, so🤷🏽‍♀️) and I y e a r n desperately for an influx in "wade x y/n x logan" fics and the "remy x y/n" fics... dare I even ask, humbly ofc, hear me out... for a splash of "wade x y/n x remy". genuinely, I'd kill for some of that ngl.

and I bet you're wondering, "lyssa, why not do it yourself🤔?"

short answer: I am swamped with requests, and even if I wasn't, I'm not ready yet lmao I fear I do not possess the skills to capture them in my writing perfectly😔 ... yet😈.

in the meantime, tho *😈evil little laughter😈* may I plz suggest the following prompts and pairings to and for anybody willing to work with them or wanting ideas (begging any writers that see this to please write these and tag me plz plz plz plz plz 😭🙏🏽😃plzplzplzplzplzplzplzpl-)...

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

⚠️trigger and content warning btw lol -

mentions of fighting/violence/bloodshed, death, gore, (like c'mon,,, bffr, look at who you're reading about😐🤨), anxiety/panic attacks, harsh words/themes/elements/physical injuries, abuse and/or negelct, separation anxiety, mental disorders, brief mention of sickness/illness, drugs (just 🍃 and painkillers), age gap (nothing illegal, chill out🤨✋🏽), use of a derogatory term (not used in a negative sense tho lol), and some semi-common smut themes that I won't list here, but be wary if that stuff makes you uncomfortable :)♡. also, these are all under the pretense that the reader is a cis girl, she/her/hers pronouns (so ig you could think of this as one, big, mass request to all writers willing from me lol🤭🥴🫶🏽).

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭/𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 :

- reader having a panic/anxiety attack and ofc being comforted (causes my vary; maybe right after a fight/battle, or because of over-worrying or too much pressure, maybe after a fight with another loved one, etcetc). definitely wanna see this with all three of them, but separately, tho. like, one fic or list of "preferences/headcannons" for logan, one for wade, and then one for remy.

- near death or death (followed by resurrection swift after). it could be reader almost dies or dies (then gets resurrected, get creative with it/how, fr, yk?) or the reverse; the POI (person of interest) dies, although given two of the three's abilities, y'all might have to get creative if you want it to translate for logan and/or wade so this one would be mainly for a remy x reader.

- I personally love a good "POI says sumn mean/outta pocket, hurts reader's feels, stuff happens idk, but they eventually kiss and make up" trope. I'd eat that up, especially cuz OHHH,,,, wade taking a joke or playful argument or something too far? logan being a little too mean/angsty to you for comfort?? remy saying something that gets lost in translation, so it comes out harsher than intended??? 😫😫😫‼️‼️ AND IF YOU WANNA GET MESSY WIT IT, RUNNING TO ONE OF THE OTHER THREE FOR COMFORT🙈🙈⁉️⁉️⁉️.

- a classic; reader getting injured (mildly or worse, doesn't matter), needing to be taken care of, but is stubborn about it?? always a good one.

- getting a little crazy and silly here, but I like a good "abusive and/or negelctful ex/current partner" trope. like hell yeah, one of you big, strong men get over here and save me, whisk me away and show me what I really deserve😻‼️. NOT romanticizing/glorifying it obvs, like no, I mean that wade, logan, and/or remy would not be the red flags in this scenario, they're the one(s) doing the saving FROM the red flag ex/current partner lol.

- getting a little crazier and sillier with this one, but one where reader gets snatched up🙂? oouuuu, miss girl got kidnapped?! once again, somebody come save me, and if "somebody" is not wade, logan, and/or remy, then don't bother, I don't want it. matter of fact, just gon' on ahead and leave me, I'll figure it out myself🙂✌🏽. I think I'd want these separate, actually, bc I wanna take in the individuality of their reactions, like,,, logan going feral?? pretty predictable tbh lmao but still hot. remy?? idek ngl, y'all gon' have to figure him out. BUT WADE BEING SERIOUS AND NOT AS TALKATIVE FOR ONCE UNTIL HE KNOWS YOU'RE SAFE???? OOOHOOHOOOOOOO, GIMMIE🖐🏽👹🖐🏽✊🏽👹✊🏽!!!

- ig this could be put in the panic/anxiety attack category, but I also feel like this might be it's own separate thing, so idk, but... separation anxiety on reader's part. whatever the circumstances may be to breed it, reader is just (not in a unhealthy way) attached to the POI(s), so them leaving for whatever reason is pretty hard on her (and the POI(s), too, because hello, they don't wanna make their reader upset, but things gotta get done fr yk😫🥲),,, lots of reassurance, comforting, and maybe distractions ensue??

- reader with an alter ego/inner beast, whether that be a result of her powers or a mental disorder (think like,,, split personality or maybe DID or something like that, but I do wanna say, if you're gonna go the mental route, make sure you do your research so that you're representing it - not only accurately - but you're not dehumanizing or dumbing it down as well) or just anything that would cause the reader to, as I said, have a different side of themself,,, werewolf type deal, yk? "normal" for the most part, but then has her moments where she be on demon time and then when she's back to herself, she's just like "???" while everyone else is like "!!!". I suppose this could then be followed up/solved with a "the sun's getting real low" typa thing/moment from the POI(s), but that's neither here nor there, do what feels right fr♡.

- reader (just barely) escapes cassandra nova??? that could be cool (a.k.a. very, very angsty bc surely the encounter has messed the reader alllll the way up both mentally and physically, especially knowing what typa timing cass be on lmao😃). love a good hurt/comfort, I can't get enough, actually. this one (given the movie context) may or may not work with wolvie and/or pool (again, up to the writer to get creative), but gambit?? he's been in the void his whole life, he knows cass, sooo it'd make more sense for him to have a higher understanding of the situation in full, but do what y'all want, I'm just the idea woman🤷🏽‍♀️.

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 :

- morning cuddles and softeness and ughghfhfhdjd♡!!♡!♡!!♡!♡!!♡!! and then the opposite, night/bedtime cuddles and softness and uugjfjdkwkfke♡!!♡!♡!!♡!♡!!♡!!

- height difference teasings and shenanigans. we can always stick to the classics, ofc, short reader, tall wade, logan, and/or remy. maybe its an advantage in fights - fast, lethal, and small + big, shielding, and strong - but sucks in more domestic/calm cases like reaching for shit on the top shelf or wanting to kiss somebody. but I'd also love some tall gworl reader type shit, miss strong, lean, runway model energy, stepping on any heads and wooing any men that are in her path🥴😻. bending down with a smile so she can hear him, mindlessly playing with his hair, occasionally makes a quip here and there on the difference without thinking lol and he haaaaateeees all of it (but he looooveeeessss all of it🤭).

- reader being THAT GIRL, literally being in a 1v26 or sumn crazy like that and she's just kicking ass and shit the whole time, and then there's the POI(s),,, gawking and in love like "damn that's MY GIRL fr\😻/!!".

- *imagine a vine boom after every bolded word, okay, go* teen/minor/young PLATONIC NONSEXUAL NONROMANTIC (literally I can not stress this enough) NOT DATING AT ALL EVER reader and one/two/all of them. I think it'd just be silly seeing them (wade, logan, and or remy) working/paired with/having a bond with this little gremlin yet sweetheart of a reader who's somehow able to tolerate/put up with/ignore/maybe even indulge in their craziness lmfao. maybe just as or is even more crazy than they are, chaotic and desensitized type shit. you could even get ansgty with it, have this teen reader need saving or something like that, yk?

- sparring match and reader BEATS POI(s) in said spar cuz she's cool, awesome, and mega baller like that. lots of tension and goofiness, especially from the reader, cuz she knows damn well she's the shit. or, a different route!!... total dumb luck that she beat him/both/all of them, and is very obviously playing it off/acting like she won on purpose lmfao, cockiness ensuing.

- can't go wrong with a sick-fic lol. who doesn't wanna be taken care of?

- reader needs/wears glasses🤷🏽‍♀️. it can be the discovery of actually needing them, reader always squinting tryna read/see shit, or nearly getting herself in and out of danger bc again, she blind lmao. or it's just the case of reader never wears them out and about, but in calmer moments (where she doesn't run the risk of breaking them) she'll put them on, so she decides to bust 'em out one day and it's just the POI(s) being like ":O...😻😻!!".

- *olivia rodrigo voice* JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY, YEAA-aAAH😫😫‼️ ... reader who just,,, she don't play that shit, man, lmfao it's called you can prove yourself either friend or foe,,, stay tf away from my man or get your ass beat. pick one. and it's the POI(s) just absolutely flattered and amused with this energy from reader lmfao, reassurance ensuing quick after ofc. or, if you wanna get silly with it (and by silly, I mean violent♡), reader with a girl who can't take a hint😀 *eye twitch* so she finally makes shit clear one way or another (one way; does sumn with the POI(s) that makes the girl uncomfortable so she fucks off. another; reader pretty much beats that girl up and it's the POI(s) laughing but also trying to pry reader off of her cuz "stop it, I'm yours, I promise, you don't have to kill her, she didn't know any better😭!"). or just completely switch it up, vice versa, role-reversal POI(s) get jelly and it's reader having to deal with whatever may happen after/due to the fact lol.

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 :

- shameless flirt reader!!!! she's not obnoxious or out of character/proper timing with it, but definitely a reader with helllllaaaaa rizz. is mainly on some "is somebody gonna match my freak?" type shi. wade would find it very silly and he'd match the freak ofc. logan,,, maybe he'd start off annoyed by it, then get used to it, only realizing you've actually grown on him once you start to pull back a little/stop completely? REMY WOULD LOVE AND BE AMUSED BY IT, so all I'm gonna say here is this: rabbits🐇🥰. iykyk♡.

- a smoke sesh leading to some good, old fashioned high/sleepy sex🥰. that's it, that's the prompt♡.

- lord, free me from my sins🙏🏽, plz don't judge me y'all😔 ,,, age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.

- that moment when reader is a whore and is actually literally prancing around without a care in the world, fucking three different guys (wade, logan, and remy obvs) because "they're hot lol" - not necessarily behind their backs - but no one's saying anything or telling her no, nor does anyone seem to have any issues with it/are opposed, sooo😗🤷🏽‍♀️.

- do y'all think,,, because wolverine is yk...wolf-like-ish-whatever.... do y'all think that he,,,, that maybe he goes thru... a rut🙂?? lmfaoGDHAKXKPQPRR okay that's enough, that's enough🥴✋🏽-.

- you know how some smut has certain labels/themes/tags that are gonna be, yk,,, in said smut?? well, cuz I'm out of any specific ideas for smut, I'm just gonna leave some here, m'kaaaay, and whatever y'all wanna dooooo is up to youuuu, just as long as I get to seeee😗☺️🫶🏽~...

⚠️ also don't say I didn't warn y'all, I mean, there's literally a whole ass trigger warning at the top, so do not start fckn trippin' because you disagree with me or saw sumn you don't fw, cuz tbh, I don't care and you can honestly block me if it's that serious♡.

dom-sub, daddy/praise/breeding/spanking kink, knife/gun/blood play (and/or just mutant/power ability play in general hehehe), food/wax play, cnc (I don't suggest full blown non-con seeing as none of them seem the type to do such, no matter the circumstances, plus it's just not my thing personally but hey, I'm not currently writing for pool, wolvie, or gambit rn, so that's up to whoever is🤷🏽‍♀️), hunter-prey (y'all might see this and immediately think wolvie, which is understandable fr, but I beg y'all to get creative and let remy and/or wade hunt reader down, it can be done and done right, I promise, plz, I need it, 😫PLEASE!!-), friends with benefits,,, OHHH ENEMIES with benefits🫢🫢!!, overstim, jealousy/possessive/yandere, unprotected/creampie/oral ... that's all that comes to mind lmao wow what a crazy note to end this on, anyways-

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

yeah, so, do with all of this what you will (and plz spread this around, I genuinely do wanna see these get written and myself tagged like I am PINING for these fic ideas to be turned into reality😭🙏🏽), I just had to get my thoughts out before I forgot (at least in the fanfic department), because if someone were to ask me my thoughts on the movie itself !!!!! OMG I could run my mouth forever, but I don't wanna do that (lazy) so lmao for now, that's all lol byeeee~ /ᐠ-˕-マ!!

[rationaliity]

mine now | gallagher x f! reader ( 18 + )

ill be so real with you my dearest freaky anon i'm not the biggest fan of cheating so plspls understand that if this kinda sucks,,, im sorry, especially since you were waiting for so long for this and then i drop the most lukewarm fic of all time. i also had to change the story around so that it was something that i was comfortable writing, sorry about that ! still the basic premise, i just am not good with ntr for some reason ?? weird. who knows man. tags : drug abuse ! dubcon, dirty talking, weed & alcohol mention, female anatomy reader but its sort of nonspecific idk, pw/op, voyeurism sorta, exhibitionism sorta, coercion almost, mentions of infidelity, comfort turns into sex, possessiveness, unprotected sex, gallagher uses petnames a lot, reader being drunk & high at the same time, reader gets on call with her ex boyfriend while gallagher fucks them words: 1.8k

gallagher's hand was in your hair, your head pulled back as he pounded you so hard into the mattress it made your hip hurt a little bit from the pressure, not that it was really what you were focused on. he'd promised to make you forget your shitty ex boyfriend who'd cheated on you, and you had agreed on that without a second thought. it was originally just a drink that the two of you shared together, with you ranting about this loser to gallagher, who was all too patient with you.

one drink turned into three, and drinks turned into smoking together. being crossfaded and half focused, those little rants went on about everything that had pissed you off about that loser since the moment the relationship started to decay. everything from how he refused to flush the toilet no matter how many times you reminded him, to how tiny his dick was. gallagher had laughed at your jokes about him, and it spurred you on to keep going, laughing about that loser's tiny shrimp dick. gallagher asked if you'd ever had a dick bigger than two inches, and you shook your head. you had no idea what sex was really supposed to feel like aside from what you knew.

then he asked if you were willing to see what it was like, and you swore you'd never felt more sober than that moment right then as you hesitantly nodded. was it still going to hurt if you weren't a virgin anymore ? the answer, surprisingly, was a resounding yes ! you learned that pretty quickly as gallagher's hips pistoned into yours, his free hand grabbing the fat of your ass, his body pressed against yours so he could whisper into your ear.

" don't be shy, baby, you can let your makeup ruin my sheets. it's been ruining my shirt all night now, " he purred in your ear, his sharp canines daring to bite into the sensitive skin of your neck completely without warning. when he finally did, you made a pathetic little mewl that you weren't even aware that you could make. " a little reminder of who can fuck you better than that fuckin' pathetic loser, yeah ? gonna go to work tomorrow n show off your mark for everyone to see, yeah ? "

possessiveness was driving him, only amplified tenfold by the weed in his system. it made you both feel everything so much deeper, so both in tune with your bodies and completely disorientated at the exact same time. you couldn't feel your toes anymore, and you weren't even sure you had a tongue in your mouth you were so far gone, but you could feel every deep stroke inside of you as he thrust, and the feeling of his nails digging into the flesh of your ass.

you were a disaster. you knew you should be somewhere else. it was in three the morning, you were three drinks and several shots deep, and with enough weed in your system to kill a victorian child before they could even understand what was happening to them. but you had no idea that you needed this so much, needed to feel him so deep inside of you that it brought you to tears, stretching you so well that you thought there was no way it was going to fit. and yet his cock buried itself completely inside you each time, his tip hitting against your walls in that special spot that made you cry out.

you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and by god you wanted to moan so loud that your neighbors could hear you. and maybe you were doing all of those things, at this point you weren't entirely sure what you were doing, other than taking his cock. gallagher was like an animal, desperate to claim every inch of you, and you were so willing to give him everything that he desired without any amount of a fight.

you heard a noise in the background, but you honestly didn't think much of it at that point. it was so unimportant, you didn't really care what it was, although you recognized the sound. " baby, your phone is ringin', you wanna answer it, or should i ? "

you made a pitiful little noise, and he took that as a perfectly valid answer, grabbing your phone and sliding it up for you. " hey, yeah ? oh, man. " you couldn't hear what was going on on the other side of the phone, but you could hear gallagher chuckle, and you swore he started to fuck you even harder now, the lewd noises of your skin slapping together undoubtedly able to be heard through the phone. " yeah, sorry you're a fuckin' loser, but they've got some new dick. thank you for keepin' them so fuckin' tight f'me. "

you don't know why your ex hadn't hung up the phone yet, but also on the other hand it made complete sense. if he had a way to argue, he was going to argue, even when all of the odds were against him, and the answer was blaring at him straight in his face. you buried your face in the pillow, trying not to make so much noise, but finding it impossible with the way gallagher was thrusting inside of you like he owned your body. and maybe he did, who knows at this point ? you just knew that you'd never felt this good, not with yourself, or any other partner.

" you wanna talk to them ? oh, man, be my fuckin' guest. i just hope you know you ain't gonna like what you hear. "

without a warning, the phone was pushed against your ear, letting you speak and say whatever you wanted to, but you couldn't find the words to say anything to him in between the moans spilling from your lips. " i-i- hh- fuck- " you whimpered, trying to think of something to say, but your mind was completely blank and filled with so many thoughts at the exact same time. there was only a brief moment of time where there wasn't anything coming from the other line, your ex so stunned that he couldn't find anything to say, but then came the barrage of insults, ones that would make you cry if you weren't being fucked so well by a man like gallagher, who was able to take your mind off of a pathetic man like your ex.

" put him on speaker, doll. let him hear you cummin' your brains out on my cock if he's so inclined. shit, i'll send him a video if he wants. whatever gets him to understand that you aren't his anymore, " gallagher growled behind you, one of his hands coming to snake around your waist, rubbing the sensitive nub between your legs with his thick, calloused thumb. you could only nod in response, sitting your phone down and turning it on speaker. you wanted him to feel horrible about everything he did to you, and you were hoping this was exactly the revenge you needed to finally get over him.

with the phone out of your hands, it was like it was entirely forgotten, especially with his finger rubbing your clit in tiny little circles. everything was building up to feel so strong inside of you, you had no idea what was happening. was it the drugs in your system making your body act up like this ? you had no idea, completely unsure what was going on. you felt this feeling in your tummy tightening as gallagher fucked you senseless, exactly like how he had promised to.

" ga-gallagher- " you whimpered out, your breath hitching in your throat. even in your fucked out state, you still managed to say something coherent, and of course it was his name. that thought only brought a satisfied grin to his face, and the older man couldn't stop himself from responding, clearly putting on a show for the person on the other end of the phone.

" what is it, my sweet ? gonna cum ? ya gonna cum on my cock like this 'nd forget all about him ? you take me so well, it's like you were made for a big, fat cock to stretch you out 'nd rearrange ya. " he was going so hard he needed to grab the headboard, his nails digging into the wood so hard that he wasn't sure if it would splinter or not, not that it even mattered. a little blood wasn't going to hurt him, and it certainly wasn't going to make him stop fucking your divine body into the perfect little cocksleeve for him. " is this your first orgasm on a cock ? you don't even know what's happenin' to ya, that's fuckin' adorable. you aint got no idea why you feel all tight down there, huh ? "

all you could do was nod helplessly against him, drooling onto the fabric of the bedsheets that was so soaked from your slick just dripping down your legs and pooling underneath you. " gonna- gonna cum, gonna cum, gallagher- pl-please- " you didn't know why you were saying please, you knew he wasn't going to stop now, not when he had a point to make of giving you the best orgasm you've ever had in your life.

" cum then, sweetie. i'll ride you through it. i'm gonna cum in this little hole of yours, okay ? you okay with that ? " you didn't give him a verbal response, just a nod of your head, but he couldn't stop himself from gently slapping your clit, making you cry out in pain, the sharpness of the sensation leaving you breathless. " say it, doll. say you want me to cum inside. you can do it, baby. "

" please- cuh-cum inside of me, gallagher- " you begged, earning you a tentative kiss on the side of your neck where he had bitten you earlier, and his finger started to rub circles around your sore clit again, perfectly timed just to make you cum.

" we're gonna cum together, okay ? let go, baby. i'm right here wi-with ya, " he couldn't stop himself from letting out a low groan, letting go of the headboard to grab your hip, dragging you on his cock as he fucked himself on you, chasing your orgasms together. with a low, animalistic growl, gallagher let go inside of you, shooting hot ropes inside of your walls as you clenched helplessly around him, the duo orgasm making you feel like you were able to blank out at any second, but you were entirely aware of your situation. he rode out the sensations with you, slowing down into gentle thrusts as he milked both of your orgasms at the same time.

when he pulled, gallagher laughed to himself, kissing the side of your neck and your nape several times as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his body against yours. " he hung up. guess we gotta call him back when we have a round two, yeah ? "

— ♡ rationaliity 2024

[tcubunny]

switch!tzuyu x switch!fem!reader - “trying our best” (warnings: smut, praise, breast play, scissoring, clit stimulation, oral)

a/n: thank u to my pookie @soyeonsbabygirl for proof reading 🤗 first time writing for tzuyu, kinda nervy. i’ve had this idea in my head from the second i thought up this au. small issue that we’re going to fix with our imagination, as always: let’s pretend jyp is strict on hotel rooms and if the company placed/booked/whatever-the-balls two specific members in a room, they HAVE to the be ones who share it🙏idk if i’m lying ab the switch tags bc i think that’s what’s happening, but idk tbh. maybe if i feel generous in the future ill write a fic about how her and the reader ended up getting caught and what their punishment was. for now, much love and enjoy pookabutts😘

word count: 1.8k

“goodnight you two, don’t do anything you know you’re not supposed to.”

jeongyeon warns and gives you and tzuyu a kiss before walking to the door and shutting it behind her.

you and tzuyu are the best girls for your unnies, you never get in trouble. your notoriously great behavior has fully merited their trust, yet letting you two share a hotel room still seemed risky. everyone insisted that being alone with each other would be too tempting, but there was nothing they could do about it.

you both promised—specifically to jihyo that you would sleep on separate beds, and wouldn’t try anything, and you plan to follow through on that promise.

“are you tired?” tzuyu’s voice bellows throughout the room. “i guess.” you get up and lock the door before walking to the other bed. “well, goodnight.” tzuyu turns off her bedside lamp and lays down, draping the covers over herself.

“goodnight.” you do the same as her and get comfortable. you close your eyes, trying your best to clear your head, but you’re far too hyper-aware of the fact that she’s right next to you. you really wouldn’t dare disobey the others, but it’s all you can think about.

the minutes rush by and you still can’t manage to fall asleep, completely immersed in your less than holy thoughts about tzuyu. you toss and turn, but nothing works.

“y/n, are you asleep?” you hear a murmur in the dark and turn to face tzuyu’s bed. “no.” there’s a few seconds of awkward silence before tzuyu speaks up again.

“i know we said we wouldn’t, but do you want to sleep with me? i just feel so isolated.” you think about it for a second, you desperately want to say yes, but you know you can’t. “tzuyu…”

“please, they won’t find out. the door is locked and they have no other way of checking on us.” she is correct, there’s no way they can find out unless they enter the room, which they can’t do if the door is locked. and you always lock the door when you’re in a hotel; it wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“okay…” you get up and walk to her bed, hesitantly joining her under the covers. you turn away from her, too scared that you won’t be able to control yourself if you face her. you both say goodnight again and the deafening silence returns.

falling asleep is significantly more difficult now that tzuyu is right next to you. you can feel the warmth emanating off her body and you want nothing more than to turn around and kiss her. you can also feel your own warmth stretching from your flustered cheeks to your aching core.

“i can’t sleep.” you’re jolted out of your trance of sorts by tzuyu turning on the light. you turn to look at her and she sits up against the headboard, so you do the same. “me neither.” you reply, trying to hide your reddened face.

“i’m bored.” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “me too.” you look around the room, trying to think of something else to continue the conversation. “you think the others are asleep?” she exhales before answering. “let’s think critically here, none of them can keep their hands off each other.” you look down at the floor. “yeah…”

you both sit without saying anything. having her so close but not being able to touch her how you want is absolute torture. you bite down on your thumb as a weak attempt to distract yourself, but it doesn’t work in the slightest.

you look over at her, head tossed back on the bed frame, eyes closed, and arms inside her shirt. you’ve never been one to make impulsive decisions, but your desire for her completely takes over.

“tzuyu…” you call out, inching closer to her. “wha-“

you crash your lips into hers, cutting off her sentence. the kiss is slow and sends heatwaves straight to your core. her lips feel amazing, you swear you’ll never be able to separate from them. you let your tongue wander inside her mouth and she gladly takes it in. you entangle it with hers, lifting your hand to cup her face.

she pulls away and you whine in frustration. “we can’t.” her actions greatly differ from her words; she tugs the collar of your shirt towards her and continues kissing you.

“why not?” you repeat the pattern of pulling away and going right back to the heated kiss every time either of you speaks. “we promised.” “they won’t find out,” you pause your sentence to keep tasting her “like you said, the door is locked.”

it appears you’ve fully convinced her as she pulls you closer and makes you straddle her. you let your hands get lost in her hair as she grabs your face.

you can already feel a pool of slick collecting on your underwear while you’re squirming on her lap. the air in the room suddenly feels hot and your clothes start feeling like a burden.

“take off your clothes.” you instruct, getting up to do the same. you toss your things to the side, not caring where it lands. you watch as tzuyu rips everything off and crawls to the edge of the bed to sit.

you admire her body with a smirk before pushing her down and getting on top of her. the truth is, neither of you has any experience with being in control, but you’ll have to make do.

“you’re so pretty.” you whisper in her ear, moving your mouth down to her neck. “you’re so pretty.” you kiss her chest, making sure not to leave any new marks that the others could notice.

you gradually move lower until you reach her tits. you take one of the into your mouth and she lets out a loud moan. you slap your hand over her mouth to shush her.

“nayeon and jeongyeon are right beside us, do you really want them to hear?” you take your hand off and she brings her own hand to her mouth, urging you to keep going.

your mouth goes back to her tit, sucking and biting it gently. her choked moans make your pussy drip, you can’t wait any longer. you replace your mouth with your hand and tap on her thigh. “can you spread your legs?” “mhm.”

she does so and you swing one of your own legs over one of hers so that your pussy is directly aligned with hers.

you look into her eyes waiting for approval to go on, but she just pushes your hips down instead, making your soaked cunt collide with hers. you almost scream out from the feeling, but bite down on your finger to stop yourself.

you gyrate your hips, twitching slightly every time your clits touch. “you’re so fucking hot.” tzuyu coos from beneath you and pulls you down to her lips. you moan and whine into her mouth, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

you no longer care in the slightest about how many rules you’re breaking, the only thing on your mind is how amazing tzuyu sounds.

“you feel so good, tzu.” your sentence comes out hurried and broken, the feeling of tzuyu’s pussy on yours messing with your senses. “hm, thank you.” an inebriating smile adorns her lips as she responds. one of her hands remains placed on your hip, pushing you down against herself. you lean back, resting your weight on your hands as you brush your hair back.

“faster.” she hums while digging her nails into your skin. you whine at the feeling and speed up, making tzuyu reflexively thrust her hips up.

“shit, don’t stop.” her back arches as she pleads with you. “i wouldn’t do that to us both.” you giggle and bend down to meet her lips.

you can feel your muscles beginning to contract and hold onto tzuyu’s hand against the mattress.

“i’m so close.” you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut. “hm—me too.” hearing her weak whimper is all you need to reach your climax. you fiercely hold tzuyu’s hand as your hips shake, silencing your moans with her lips. you don’t stop until you see her body tense and she lets out a string of profanities with her orgasm.

when she completely finishes, you let yourself fall down on her chest, completely slumped. you both lay there panting without moving until your heart rates settle and you regain your composures.

“you’re incredible.” she traces your lips with her fingers and you look up at her. “i pay attention.” she laughs at you, pushing you off of her to get on top of you.

“it’s my turn to show you how well i pay attention.”

your eyes widen at her remark, you didn’t think she could sound any hotter, but somehow she does. she kisses down your neck, going past your chest and all the way to your stomach. she plants a kiss right above your core and your hips jerk forward.

she stands up and pats down the edge of the bed for you to sit. she then kneels in front of you, opening your legs with her hands. you can feel the slick pouring out of you, she looks absolutely ravishing on her knees for you.

she kisses your thighs as you stroke her hair with a smile on your face, completely drowning in how beautiful she looks.

she looks up at you and dips her tongue between your folds, already earning desperate moans from you. her tongue moves with great agility, sucking your clit and pushing into your entrance every time she passes it.

you give her feedback in the form of hushed whines and whimpers, still very aware of the people on the other side of the wall.

“does that feel good?" she asks in a sweet, innocent voice, the contrast between her actions and her inflection adding to your arousal.

you whine and arch your back slightly, pushing tzuyu’s face further into you. she chuckles as she lets go of your clit with an audible ‘pop.’

“y/n, answer my question.” she begs with the same tone and you look down at her, a dangerous glint painted on her eyes.

“hm,” your attempt at answering comes out as a moan and your cheeks redden as you feel tzuyu’s laugh against your pussy.

"i think,” you whimper into your own hand as she pushes her fingers inside you. “i think you can tell, ah fuck.” she mercilessly pumps her fingers in and out of you while her lips wrap around your clit.

it doesn’t take long for the edges of your vision to glow white, you orgasm hitting you without warning. you grab a fistful of tzuyu’s hair, holding her in place. she eagerly swallows every bit of sticky white fluid pooling out of you, allowing you to fully come back from your high.

you let go of her hair when you realize how hard you were holding onto it and she stands up. “i think i won.” she teases, coming closer to sit on your lap.

“oh, it was a competition? in that case, i think i’d like a rematch.”

[undertheorangetree]

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Two- The Deal

Summary- After the disastrous bedding, the new couple tries to improve their situation.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Lots of arguing. Angst. Homegirl’s having a difficult week. Mirrors. Masturbation. Fingering. Coming in pants. Idk how else to tag that one I’m sorry. Aemond’s just helping.

Author’s Note- I promised sexier so I delivered besties. But also it’s still sad oop.

series masterlist

She manages to remain hidden in her chambers for three days following the consummation. Though she doesn't go as far as barring the door, she may as well have, only allowing two maid servants into the room and no one else save her grandsire. She allows him in the morning after the wedding, knowing that he is too persistent to keep out. The pleasantries only last so long, with him informing her of Baela and Rhaena's plan to return to court in time for her coronation before he begins inquiring as to whether or not the consummation was successful. She keeps the details as vague as possible before managing to kick him out with complaints of sickness. It keeps him away, him and everyone else who could possibly want to see her. And she is glad for it. Though it is not fair, she blames Corlys for her humiliation and refuses to speak with him further until this shame dissipates, unsure as to how she will ever be able to look at anyone within that damned council without thinking of how they had all put her in this situation. How they had watched them, her, while she and Aemond had done their duty.

It is foolish, she knows, to remain upset. A thousand women have endured such a fate before her and she does not doubt a thousand have yet to bear it, but she is the queen now. Should she wish to sulk in her shame, there is no one in the realm who can pull her from her rooms now.

Or, at least, not many.

He gives her time, keeping his distance for nearly four nights, but she knew he would come to her eventually. Duty is the pillar Aemond has built his life upon and he would not allow it to go unattended for long. Though she had thought he would come to her during the day, that he would find the time in his rigorous schedule to knock on her door and berate her for her lack of attention, for attempting to skate her duty. It was so expected that she had prepared herself for it, steeling herself whenever she heard footsteps sound too close to the door.

She hadn’t expected him to come in through the passageways during the hour of ghosts, appearing in the mirror behind her as suddenly as a wraith.

She is forced to stifle a shriek when she catches sight of him, turning quickly to face him. It feels almost like having your back on a predator, the discomfort only growing when she catches the look on his face. Jaw set, lips pursed, looking around the room in disdain. It takes more effort than it should, to attempt to appear unaffected, but there is only one thought coursing through her mind now. That he is here to claim his rights, to do his husbandly duty. He had given her respite, likely longer than he had any reason to, and now he is here to begin what must be started.

The very thought makes her stomach sink, the consummation replaying in her head like a terrible dream, but she forces herself to steel her spine and appear unbothered, reprimanding him through the mirror.

"By the gods, Aemond, there is a door for a reason, you know. You cannot just sneak into my rooms like a thief in the night."

His mouth twitches at that, his irritation evident. "You are not answering your door. Nor are you leaving your chambers. I had almost begun to believe that you are ill."

"I am ill."

He simply hums, making his way toward her. She stiffens, whole body going rigid, but he does not touch her. Instead, his hand goes to the line of ornate bottles that sit below her vanity, each one lined meticulously. He picks up one of the bottles, uncorking it before holding it under his nose. It's a perfume, one that she had been gifted before the war by one of the lords vying for her affection. She had always liked it- a pretty thing that smelt of peaches and honey- and had used it sparingly, but his face remains unchanged as he pushes the cork back in and sets it back in the line.

"My mother has yet to leave me alone," he announces into the silence. She goes still again, not needing him to continue, but he pays her no heed. With his eye still locked on her, he continues. "She is determined to ensure that I understand the importance of conceiving an heir. Corlys as well, though I imagine he has come to visit you despite your illness."

It is her turn to clench her jaw, biting her tongue as she leans forward to fetch her hairbrush. "He has."

"Then you know why I've come?"

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @toodlesxcuddles @ashovertheriver @lokiofasgard12 @hypocritic-trash-baby

bolded couldn’t be tagged :(

[callistoscope]

a healthy venture

Summary: As most know, sexual experimentation is all apart of a healthy relationship! It just so happens to coincide with a very awkward relationship for a couple like Harvey and Clarice, however.

Pairing: Cringefail(Clarice) x Harvey. (if you know you know.)

Word Count: 7.4k. I know, it’s ridiculous.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut. AWKWARD smut. Takes a hot minute to get there, but when it’s there, it is THERE. The sexual experimentation in question is PEGGING with not much else, so….

a/n: this is silly and very crackfic-adjacent but also So Serious to me. also, yeah I guess they’re in a relationship, but early stages? probably had sex before this? Idk, whatever makes the most sense. sorry if the writing style comes off kinda cringe sometimes!!! I really tried to connect the writing style to what I imagine cringefail’s thought process would be like. and it might generally come off more amateurish since it’s been a hot minute since I’ve written. have mercy pls I swear I was so much better at writing like a year ago I’m getting back into the swing of things </3. If you have no idea who cringefail is or why’s she being paired with Harvey, she’s from @clarisinne ‘s comic!!! check it out!!!!!!(peer pressuring you). also @cowboyweevil since u asked me to tag u!

——

Clarice will be the first to admit that her life is consistently in tatters, and more often than not, it's her own hand that tears up that life the most. She had never been the type to have a sturdy head atop her unsteady shoulders— more the type to awkwardly headbutt into every problem and success that dared to beseech her. Both intentionally and unintentionally, sometimes simultaneously.

One thing she does know, a tidbit of information carved so deep into the recesses of her mind that even dementia wouldn't rob her of this simple fact— her sister was a fucking menace.

Clarice could have given her sister some semblance of underserved grace, could have said she wasn't so bad, if only that's where her bad qualities stopped. But Mars's abhorrent behavior was made all the more pesky by how relentless she was.

Her sister was as relentless as the damn splinter still wedged into Clarice's foot, a recent injury she had been careful to make sure Harvey wasn't privy to.

Harvey.

This was all his fault, really. For such a highly respected doctor, for whom which his town had only the most upstanding of opinions of him, beholding him as kind and responsible, Clarice feels safe in saying that her health had went down a steep decline since the moment. . . this happened. Since the moment this strikingly warm, gooey feeling coagulated in her heart, not unlike that of a fatal blood clot. Her life is effectively cut in half from the amount of stress she's experience since moving to this town. Her life force is visibly draining away, day by day, she's sure.

And her darling sister has the nerve to kick her while she's already down. Escalating the gradual deterioration of Clarice's health like the terminal illness only Mars can be like.

Even now, her sister giggles behind her hand in midst the autumn wind, brimming with an audacity that makes Clarice seethe. She has to bite back the urge to chuck her full watering can at her.

Casually, her sister leans down to pluck a pumpkin from the ground, holding it proudly in her arms. A smile plays on her face, one Clarice does not like one bit. "You know... I've been thinking—"

"Stop doing that."

"I've been thinking—" she trots along, happy as a clam. Content as a mischievous cat might be more apt. "If Harvey doesn't step up more, you might really have to take the reins. In a way you don't expect."

Stubbornly, Clarice stays off to the side. She crosses her arms, clutching the watering can high up in protest. Her job this morning was to water whatever crops weren't already covered by their sprinklers, and she was feeling like her labor wasn't deserved the more this conversation carried on. Nothing of substance had been said yet, but Clarice's ears pick up on the lilt in her little sister's voice.

Said sister finally shoots her a cursory glance over her shoulder. "Really! I'm just trying to help you out!" The laughter in her voice says otherwise. "Because, honest to God, the more I think about it— the more plausible it becomes."

Clarice's eyes narrow, body tense in anticipation for the nearing punchline. "... What?" However hesitant, the word ebbs out all the same.

Clarice can see her sister's figure trembling already, frame wracked with inexplicable mirth, and she already wants to sink into the dirt. "Because—" she starts, unhelpfully, voice warbling, "I'm sorry, but that is the exact kind of man who'd wanna get pegged."

Mars's voice grows high-pitched, wavering, and the cackle she lets out would rival a witch. Clarice can hardly focus on that sound, her ears ringing so loud it blocks everything else. Pegging. What the fuck?

Her face grows hot, and it takes conscious effort to not pass out right onto the dirt ground. Whether it be from the thought alone or merely from the fact that her younger sister thought this made for acceptable conversation, Clarice can't be sure. Before Clarice can even hope to respond, the other is rattling off like she's finally been given an excuse to.

"And— and listen! I'm not judging! Good for Harvey! Good for you! As long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, right?" She bites the words out a bit, trying not to laugh too hard, nearly dropping the pumpkin.

"Stop." Clarice chokes, half plea half threat, blood rushing through her ears. Her mind is fraying at the edges, her brain rotting in record time. She's just starting to stomp her way over to her bastard sister.

"All I'm saying is— I know an online shop that'll ship here, yeah? Sells strap-ons, and has good variety. Pretty quick, too! Poor Harvey won't have to wait very long."

Clarice's free hand just reaches up to claw at her scalp in mortified agony, freezing for one sickening moment. She's on the path to getting her bearings and cursing Mars out like she never has before. Her mind is just on the verge of rewiring itself into proper working order. Like most things in her life, however, Clarice's life never stops at one bad thing.

"Um."

Harvey's voice is small, but the effect it has on her body is not. Clarice's body goes stiff as a rod, and the awkwardly loud clearing of his throat finally coaxes her into snapping her head back to look at him. So hard that one of her braids whips against her throat. Harvey stays where he is, loitering around the entrance of the farm with an odd rigidity to his face.

Clarice's body proves untrustworthy, and the hand holding the watering can goes limp. It's the moment after the tepid metal slips from her fingers that the gravity of her mistake hits her.

It really does hit her— the hefty watering swishes loudly as it lands straight on her foot with the accuracy of an Olympic gymnast.

"Fuck!" Clarice all but howls, stumbling back and promptly tipping back onto the dirt with an equally pained shout. It's a hard fall that ends with her gaze blearily aimed up at the blue sky, her ears picking up the sounds of two pairs of shoes scuttling up their respective pathways.

Of course. Of course it was the foot she had the splinter in.

——

Of all the sexual escapades both her waking and unconscious mind liked to torture herself with by envisioning… Clarice will admit that pegging isn't one of them. Not to say that her thoughts are incapable of running along the more adventurous paths she catches herself pointedly trying to ignore, but it simply had never come up.

Until now, at the violation of her coveted free will, at her sister's hands. She wishes all the terrible things for Mars, sometimes.

And she really shouldn't be mulling over her sister's words seriously, but her mind is deliberately caught on the thought.

... How does Clarice even feel about the concept? Even vaguely, if she just distantly ponders over what exactly that would entail? Maybe she feels some sexual curiosity she'll get to sating one of these days, should Harvey give it the okay?

If Clarice lets her mind do more than skim over the topic, however... the honest reality of what such an activity would bring is enough for her to be content to shelf it out of sheer mortification, never to see the light of day. Harvey, as always, is a different case. Adds integers into the equation that forces Clarice to reconsider everything, to reach for a different conclusion she otherwise never would have. She's forced into growth with him, sickeningly enough.

More annoyingly, she's forced into tending to herself in areas where she usually would shrug and walk it off. As soon as the hard, metal, heavy watering can had crashed onto her foot, the strange tension dispersed throughout the farm had vaporized on Harvey's part. Harvey had been painfully normal to her for those few minutes. Fussing over her, taking her carefully by the arm and coaxing her into her own house, insisting he check her foot for any major damage.

Mars had the social grace to stay outside, and Clarice prays she has enough to feel ashamed. She's knocked out of that thought when Harvey cautiously presses down on the top of her foot, and she promptly hisses.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, mouth flitting to a little frown. Harvey looks up at her from where he's taken a knee in front of her to closely inspect her foot, those brown eyes of his more like puppy dog eyes. "Just want to make sure nothing's fractured." Despite his words, he presses down at a different area of her foot, and Clarice's leg twitches with the instinct to kick him.

Her mind continues to fluctuate between nauseating panic and increasing irritation at Harvey's continued poking and prodding. It all culminates when he leans back, seeming satisfied with his work, meeting her eyes another time.

Abruptly, his eyes widen and his gaze scatters back to the floor, and that's all the confirmation Clarice needs to know exactly what place Harvey's mind goes back to. She'd had hope he'd forgotten about it, but that hope is thoroughly dashed and thrown back to drown in the river.

"So. Um..." he trails back into silence just as rapidly as he starts to speak, a palpable tension fracturing any temporary peace that had settled. Harvey shuffles, a stiffness settling over his body that she notices. It's the soft blush that peeks over his ears that does Clarice in, an innocent seashell pink that makes her eyes dart to the opposite direction of the room in deflection. Her hands claw shakily at the leather of the couch.

"Listen... I know it's technically none of my business, and it wasn't exactly meant for my ears—" Harvey lets out a labored breath. From the corner of her eye, Clarice can see his head tilt up, before hesitantly bobbling back down. He seems torn on where he should be looking. "And, uh— I didn't exactly hear everything? So, uh..." he says, voice wavering at the end. Clarice chances a glance, only to see a bright red blooming over the slopes of his cheeks, hands clenching at the pant leg of the knee he's supporting his weight on.

"I'm really sorry if I'm misunderstanding, but... how exactly did that topic come up?" He squirms a little from where he's kneeling, as if even just saying such vague words wired a shot of adrenaline straight through his nervous system. Clarice can relate, even if she knows what he's feeling is infinitesimal compared to the amount of adrenaline coursing through her.

Steam might start coming out through her ears if her mind ponders on any of this any longer. "... My sister brought it up." she mumbles, voice strained. Clarice brings her hands up, rubbing her temples, her cheeks nearly scorching her palms. Apologies, insults directed at her sister, humiliated blubbering, all sit at the tip of her tongue, but she just can't manage it. It's more like there's a stone in her mouth, on the verge of suffocating her, and her lips feel dementedly stitched together. "She thought you'd— I don't know. You know." It feels like flames lick up her cheeks then, and she winces with grief at the bitter loss of normalcy regarding their relationship. Who is she kidding? That ship had long since passed.

"Ah," Harvey actually scratches at the back of his neck, and something about that makes her want to scream in pain. It's such a stereotypical display of anxiety, and it makes those gooey feelings spring up like unwanted weeds along the sidewalk of her heart. It's endearing, damn him. "So, you're not...?"

Harvey eyes trail back up, she can feel them on her body before she can see them. Her eyes meet his in quick succession, and she feels herself jolt as if she's touched a live wire. He himself seems a bit frozen in comparison, but there's a glint in his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed, looking uncertain yet decidedly... curious. Flustered and nervous, but not disgusted.

Clarice jolts again, eyes going wide, hands falling from her head. She probably tears a few red hairs out in the process, but doesn't have the presence of mind to care when her mind is racing a mile a minute. "Oh God, you are into it." she blurts, bewildered for a multitude of reasons.

Any bravado Harvey seems to have procured promptly breaks from under him, his head bowing down as he's left to pick up the pieces. "I didn't say that!" he insists shakily, sweeping a hand through his hair.

"It's just— if that was something you were into, I wanted to..." Harvey's voice dies, swiftly fishing his hand out of his hair. "I... didn't want you to feel ashamed about it, is all. Or like you couldn't talk to me about it." he finishes with an exhale, his face brimming with a vibrant red.

Clarice swallows, shifting on the couch with an antsy energy. "... How do you feel about it?" she forces out, more stiffly than she'd like. Her methods of communication were never as smooth or clear-cut as she envisioned. Moments like these only exacerbated that flaw. "You can... talk to me, too." She cringes. She sounds a little robotic.

Yet, Clarice had promised herself to try and be more... open, about any such topics with Harvey. To be considerate and hold his feelings with higher priority than following through on her track record and waving them away. Instead of regressing into the skittish fawn she is at heart and dashing away.

Harvey fidgets before slowly rising to his feet, face still red as a rose. "I haven't thought about it much, until now. But honestly, I don't feel negatively about it." Something shifts in his expression, fills his face with unyielding tension, and his eyes shyly flit to the other side of the room.

"Morbid curiosity is probably the most accurate emotion for what I'm feeling." It's said with a weight, as though he's confessing some grand sin to a noble higher priest. "It was clearly just meant to all be jokes, though, so the last thing I'd do is expect anything out of it! Not to say I even really want anything out of it."

She sucks in a deep, steadying breath.

"It's okay if you do." Clarice's face flames as soon as she dares to utter such words. She gestures awkwardly with her hands, body more akin to lifeless metal than flesh and blood. "Haha! Sex—" she chokes, abruptly restarting the sentence.

"Sexual— Sexual experimentation is just a part of a healthy relationship! And we're healthy!" Smiling tightly, the inflection of her voice comes out more manic, a little frantic. She bumps her elbow against him, harder than she means if the wince that stretches over Harvey's face has anything to say about it.

"And it's normal! We're normal, and we can do this! Right, doctor?" Clarice grits her teeth a little, elbowing him again, desperate.

"Y- Yeah! Hah, definitely!" Harvey laughs nervously, rubbing the side of his stomach. "But, we should probably discuss this more, if you're really being serious—"

"— Harvey," Her face is promptly buried in her hands, unable to even cast a glance in his direction. "I'm at my limit. Please."

Another anxious little laugh bubbles out of him, pulling at a loose thread hanging from his coat. "Of course. Yes, that's, whatever makes you comfortable. We can talk about this later."

——

The simple fact of the matter is that they do. It's a verbal scuttle that seesaws back into Clarice conversationally dragging her feet, as most conversation between them winds up being on her end. How Harvey puts up with it is beyond her— hell, Harvey himself is beyond her.

Kind, wonderful Harvey mystifies her as much as he begrudgingly enchants. He is some strange, glittering galaxy that perplexes her with his intent to be swept into her chaotic gravity. Terrifyingly considerate, practically falling over himself with every other word when he insists that they don't have to do this, he wants her to be comfortable, he only wants what she wants—

And... What does Clarice want? The question echoes in her mind, the answer echoing in kind.

To be sated.

This curiosity, it stifles her in its attempt to persuade her. It sits in her chest, leaves residue when it attempts to glue itself in her head. Clarice had waved it off, tried to ignore it, but the remains fester there. The rot of the idea is only fertilizer, and ultimately, it only grows. She's curious, and she's always been one to explore what springs that emotion in her. For the most part.

And when she finally wrings out that honesty out of herself, Harvey flusters, but moves with the natural pull that such a confession swings a conversation into: what now? What's the plan?

There's a list of questions that are steadily answered, ticked off the mental list she's sure Harvey had conjured up in his head. Where? Definitely your apartment, I'd kill you and myself if my sister heard. Okay. Uh, how would we get the... equipment? Ship it to your apartment. My sister would never let me live it down if she got even a hint of it.

Many similar questions and answers filtered out amongst them. Harvey makes some timid remark about doing his own personal research regarding how he should prepare himself, and the conversation is effectively capped off for a few weeks. It's the persistent elephant in the room, one that grows inexplicably bigger one day in later Autumn. Finally, after some surface level digging that more exposed how deeply it burdened Harvey's mind rather than exposed any real concern from Clarice, he admitted that that the equipment came. 'It,' he'd referred to it so aptly.

It. It came. There wasn't much more to plan than the main event itself. Not much more to do other than biting the bullet and doing it. With the grand exception being thinking about it, a crime which Clarice finds herself exuberantly guilty of. The last few weeks had given her heartburn, her thoughts becoming expertly nomadic in the way they traveled from normal and innocent to salient and crude. Stray thoughts that clustered rapidly in one great moment of imagination before popping and deflating like a balloon. Leaving her flustered in midst her daily chores, normalcy strained for the rest of the day.

What would Harvey say? What would he sound like, how would it feel? How would Clarice feel, really, to be the one giving in such a way?

She didn't have to wonder much longer. Even still, her curiosities still ring so loud in her head as she stands at the door of the clinic, heart running at such a magnitude that a hummingbird's would pale in comparison. She clutches her to go bag in an iron grip, the reason why she had a to go bag making her body all the hotter.

Clarice's mind whirrs when the door opens, and it doesn't stop until they reach Harvey's humble apartment towards the top, and even then, it only dulls. She isn't even sure what sort of pleasantries they exchanged, too strung up in her thoughts to be in anything other than on autopilot.

"We don't have to do this," Harvey drills the notion yet again into her head as he is bending down at the side of his bed, hand grasping blindly at the space under the bed frame. "Really. We could just sit in for a normal night. I wouldn't mind any."

Clarice gathers herself, though her efforts are futile when it's like trying to keep water in her hands. "I would." she bites out, sucking in a breath through her teeth with a whistling sound as she gracelessly lets her bag drop to the floor. "I want to. We're doing this." she says, surprising herself with the shaky, albeit no less sincere, conviction in her voice.

"... As long as, you know, you're still down with it." she falters, twiddling with the sleeve of her jacket absently. Her gaze returns to Harvey when she hears a sliding sound, like something being dragged across the floor.

"I am!" Harvey breathes, voice wavering. He isn't looking at her, instead looking at the box he'd apparently stashed under his bed. "... I just like to be sure about these sorts of things." He stands back up with the box in tow, presenting it to her as he steps closer and closer. His face is already flushing, though it's a soft dainty pink that she finds all too fitting on him.

As her gaze roves over the box, it is not a dainty pink that seizes her face. On the white box is an understandably crude picture of a dildo, a strap-on she thinks belatedly, with words in varying fonts spewed around it. Reviews, the technical name of this model, the brand. Interestingly enough, it seems Harvey bought a set, her eyes pick up. A strap-on and a harness.

It hits her all at once, and she makes a sound that is part laugh and part cry. She's incredulous, unable to conceive everything that is happening, the things that click into place. "God, you hid it? Under your bed?" she mumbles, the humor of the situation washing over her as she lets out a raspy laugh. Harvey, the highly respected doctor of Pelican Town, hiding a strap-on under his bed.

Harvey makes an affronted noise, though his voice trembles a little with laughter when he weakly replies, "Yes. It— I didn't have room for it in my drawer." Bashfully, he gestures to said drawer, the one next to his colossal bookcase.

Clarice snorts, and the tension eases. Where this is all going, where the current is taking them, doesn't seem so scary for a moment. Harvey smiles, still a little timid, and starts to open up one of the flaps of the box. "Is it really that funny?"

"I don't know. Probably not." Clarice admits in a weak voice of her own, swallowing as he moves back the layers of the box. It's one of those types, weirdly shiny and like plastic more than the traditional brown box. That tension fills back in slightly when her eyes catch sight of it. Well, not yet, it's in a protective pouch— but nothing can really hide the distinct shape that the fabric really only enhances.

It only takes a moment for Harvey to grasp it, holding it in a limp grip as he pointedly looks at the other contents of the box, ears tipped in red. "And, ah, hm," Awkwardly, he moves the pouch into the curve of his elbow, the back of his arm holding it against his body. His free arm fishes out the harness more preparedly, touching it less like a dead fish. "Here's... the harness."

It takes a moment to realize that he's holding it out to her, waiting for her to take it. Clarice shuffles with nervous energy, taking it and holding it stiffly away from her body. As if any making any further contact with it will scorch her. She already burns, and it's in the most humiliating way. An uncomfortable heat bread-crumbing its way lower and lower, with plenty of pauses. "Should I... put it on?"

Harvey makes a sound, lips parting as if to say something. They only close again, and she can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. He only nods, abruptly turning around. Only then does he find his voice. "Probably, yes."

Respectively, both parties begin to disrobe, Clarice starting with her shoes and socks and whittling away at the rest. A part of her tries to be neat about it, wants to be, but quickly loses that train of thought as soon as she has it. Anxiety gnaws at her the whole way through, until there's a messy pile of clothes sitting next to her and a weight in her chest. And the harness tightly in her grasp. Clarice rubs the fabric between thumb and forefinger curiously, sighing as she starts to journey of putting it on.

And a journey it is, anxiety quickly becoming secondary to the frustration that shuffles to the forefront of her mind. Trying to figure out what could be adjusted, how to hold certain parts of the harness while she slides it further up her body, it was a bit of a nightmare. Clarice adjusts the position of the O-ring when she's decently certain it's secure enough, pulling the adjustable straps against her body tighter afterwards just for extra security.

Clarice exhales a slow breath as she turns, wiping sweat from her brow. Only to find Harvey watching, naked from the waist down, his dark eyes a little wide and glazed, clutching the hem of his shirt. He jolts, hand fidgeting with the hem, as if unable to decide if he should take it off or not. "I'm so sorry, I just—"

"Were you staring at me?" Clarice asks, mortification budding at every nerve in her body in hot sparks.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't struggling with the harness!" Harvey says defensively, slipping his shirt off in one bold movement. "Because, if you were, I did look into it. I... should have mentioned that." His voice grows calm again, face ripening to more of a raspberry pink. Predictably, he folds his shirt up with practiced ease, almost more of a nervous tic than him actively wanting to.

Her eyes absently wander over his body, only to trail down harshly even at something as simple as the look of his bare chest. Clarice catches blurry snapshots at every other part of his body, but her mind is too scrambled to attempt to study the details.

"Should I..." she hears Harvey swallow this time, him almost making a gurgling noise at the back of his throat. "Should I get onto my back?" he continues, voice edging on squeaky.

"No," she blurts, shaking her head frenetically. She can't. There's many things she can do right now, is willing to, wants to do, but having Harvey on his back under her during this, helpless and pliant... she just can't do that right now. It stirs something in her, sure, something she may want to get to know more intimately in due time. Maybe. But not now. "I'm getting on my back. You're going to have to just— figure it out."

She hugs her body, wobbling over to his bed with the intention to plop down in a show of dominance, only to pause. The pouch lays on his bed, the fabric still doing absolutely nothing to disfigure the phallic shape. That's all it takes to make her sweat again, that anxiety of hers rising from its grave as she picks it up much like he had carried it previously. Underlining it all is that tailspin of anticipation, lying snugly under any negative emotions that threaten to impede the event.

"I mean you can just, you know," she stammers, eyes bulging at her own thoughts. "You know." Her eyes avoid him, digging her fingers into the opening and tugging it open, looking away when she grasps at the flared base. Clarice has no hope of keeping her eyes open as she slides it out of the silk, immediately fluttering closed just upon seeing purple. Prying her eyes back open, she forces a study session of sorts, discerning any texture she can make out by sight. It seems... smooth, not sculpted to be very indicative of an actual dick besides the base shape. More like an artist's under drawing.

Harvey is staring at it just as intently, with bated breath, hands clenching into fists. "That's okay, I can do that. I just, before that, I'll need to... prep myself. I can't just—" His hand lurches up to adjust his glasses shakily, that scarlet Harvey has been valiantly fighting off spilling on his cheeks like paint. "I-I need to use my fingers first."

Clarice's eyes aren't beckoned away from the toy at that, but her brain fizzles. It flickers and flames, a part of her screaming to watch and another pleading to cover her face the whole time. You'll never survive if you watch, it pleads.

"... Okay." she chokes, because what other response is there? "I'm also going to... prepare." Her voice sounds so small, even to her own ears. With a trembling hand, Clarice twists the toy in her grip, carefully holding the flared base awkwardly to her pelvis, trying to figure out how to thread the base into the O-ring. Harvey tries to pipe up helpfully, blabbering nervously about what to do, but shuts up when Clarice begs out, "Please shut up."

Harvey is fumbling with something, and once Clarice ensures the strap-on is slotted in correctly, she turns to see him drawing out a little bottle of what she can only assume is lube. He opens it in a diligent twist, coating his fingers quickly and wincing. She notes how he seems to focus on covering two fingers above all else, and that flame stirs again. More like a spark, hesitant but hungry for a chance to ignite.

She stiffly sits and lays on the bed, in such a way that her legs splay out over the side of the bed, soles of her feet touching the wood. Harvey passes the lube to her, pressing it to her stomach. "You're... You should probably use this, too." he says, face flushing a red that Clarice's own rushes to imitate. Harvey sits, but does not lay, in the same way she does. Except he props a leg up on the bed, spreading himself open, pressing that knee to his stomach as he settles next to her. She decides to be grateful she can't see anything from this angle, only his back, everything else too far in her peripheral to make anything particularly lewd out.

That gratitude is a fleeting present, for she is suddenly made intimately aware of the moment he must edge a finger into himself by the way his breath hitches. Clarice can't not notice, it's such a sharp sound that resonates in her ears— the leg up on the bed twitches. The bed creaks, and the spark ignites like a firework.

She brings a hand up to her mouth as her eyes betray her, her own thighs twitching with want for relief as she scours his back. Sees his shoulder blades flex when he must push in deep, loosen when he pulls out shallow. Harvey's very breath is trembling, his hips attempting to buck, but only succeeding in a meek roll with the way he's scrunched up.

"I'm so sorry if this is weird," he says, voice muffled and breathy. He must be covering his mouth with his free hand, too. Clarice can't say anything, especially not when he sighs as a tremor wracks through his body. His hips give another pitiful roll, his head lolling back for a brief second.

"H-Have you done this before?" she asks, perhaps too banally. It's just too practiced, he falls into each motion with too much ease. Experience. Her ears are reacting that way to sound again, any noise muted, as if underwater.

Harvey whines quietly, though the sound reeks more of humiliation than bliss. Clarice's body reacts the same regardless, shifting on the bed fruitlessly. She can feel herself pulsing, and she thinks she's gonna pass out if she focuses on that facet of this situation any more than she needs to.

"... Not before any of this came up. Just over the past few weeks." he manages shakily, "Just... just to see what I thought. To see if I liked it."

The bed creaks particularly loud with one swipe of his pelvis, and the sound he makes does sound more pleased. "Didn't want to make you go through any of this if I didn't even like it."

"... And you like it?"

Clarice buries her face in her hand then, when the silence stretches out a bit too long. Every part of her burns. Every nerve is roaring fire, and it's suffocating. What could even relieve her, she doesn't know.

"... Yeah. It was— it's nice." Harvey gasps out, a flurry of panicked breaths escaping him. He's trying to catch his breath, body going tense as wood. He tries to exhale, some other noise laden in it. "I think— I think I'm ready."

Harvey's arm looks disfigured as he moves it from this angle, the movement sputtering to a quickness that slows just as soon. His head tilts as he wipes sweat from his forehead with his free hand, seeming to completely pause. it's confirmed when he rests the other hand on his leg.

Her mind is caught in a constant loop of What do I do? and I don't know for a few seconds. For once, Clarice's body is dependable and rational, a hand grabbing for the small plastic bottle on her stomach. It's like all sentience has seeped out of her ears, her mind going blank as she pumps the strap-on absently, making the toy nice and slick. Apparently, she’s already poured it out on her hand.

The blankness in her head abruptly swirls into color, thoughts, visions, when Harvey turns his body. He gets onto his knees, ushering himself closer to her body, but not bridging any actual distance. His warm skin and body sit plainly out of reach.

Harvey hums plaintively, and Clarice can't even begin to explore what that could mean.

"You're really sure you're okay with this?"

A deep sigh reverberates throughout the room. Clarice leans back on the bed, pressing her hand harder against her face. "Yes," she groans out, agonized. "I'll tell you if I'm not feeling it."

Harvey lets out another heavy breath, though it sounds less burdened. "Alright. In that case then, I'll, uh, I need to..."

"Okay." Clarice says, high pitched, pulling her hand quickly away from the strap-on. It's weird, wearing this thing. She can feel the phantom sensations of where it tilts, now that her hand isn't there to direct it straight.

"Okay," Harvey echoes her, similar down straight to the tone, the almost squeaky way he says it. "I'll... try not to put too much of my weight on you."

"Thanks." Clarice merely whines, wilting into the mattress.

Harvey shuffles over, bed creaking with every new placement of his knees jutting into the bed. There's a moment where the anticipation builds, becomes something tangible and unbearably thick. The tension squeezes against itself, then loosens, like a heartbeat. Like it's a real, pulsing thing.

Harvey places a hand on the bed, around her side, gripping his covers tight as he murmurs apologies. Throws a leg over her waist as his other hand braces near the other side of her, releasing a shaky breath. He keeps himself up on his knees, looking down at himself and grasping at the strap-on feverishly by the base, holding it more in a line. Clarice doesn't know what expression he's making, what expression she's making, all too busy covering her face. Risking glances through the spaces of her fingers. It's all happening simultaneously too fast and tortuously slow.

"Alright," Harvey exhales, adjusting his knees one more time, face wrought with anticipation. "... Alright."

With a steady gaze downwards, Harvey slowly lowers his body down. He jolts as if struck with electricity when the tip presses against his rim, lips parting with a slow breath as he inches down further after a pause. There's a start of a whine in the back of his throat every time the strap-on slides in deeper, but he always staves it off. Always sucks in more air, and keeps going dutifully.

Harvey keeps to his promise and carefully holds himself up even as the strap-on fills him, an occasional shake winding from his face to his legs. Those dance aerobics classes seem to be paying off, in any case.

This seems to be one of the rare circumstances where Harvey is considerate of his boundaries and limits, hips undulating up and down with a careful air. It's a process he treats delicately, gives himself plenty of time to relax in between motions, and Clarice can appreciate that solely because he deserves to be treated gently. Even if she's horrible at doing it, he deserves that much. That sort of growth is something she owes him, one of these days.

That day will come, but today is a different one, a different milestone. Harvey doesn't contest these thoughts of hers, moaning softly once the gentle treatment becomes unnecessary. Unwanted, if the gradually increasing speed of his rhythm could have any thoughts on the matter.

Through the slits of trembling fingers, Clarice watches. Everything is magnified, all the emotions breaking some impossibly high dam despite the odds. There's shifts in Harvey's expression every time he effectively bounces, lips twitching with effort to keep himself quiet. Sweat glistens along his forehead and neck— he shines in the low lamplight that sits glowing only about a foot away.

The heat between her legs is unbearable. Clarice can't remember the last time she had gotten so wet and hadn't tended to herself. Hadn't been able to. It's humiliating, but that emotion is so weak and malleable in the current of pure arousal her body is getting lost in. Her head is foggy, yet her vision is vibrant with clarity, with Harvey.

Harvey, who's working himself down harder with every passing second. Instead of that lost, cloudy look catching in his eyes, he only looks all the more searching. Harvey sits back further on his heels, letting out a moan that sounds frustrated. Unthinkingly, Clarice's eyes glance downward at the dick between his legs. Straining and flushed against his abdomen, with him close enough that she can see the pearl of pre-cum beading at the very tip. It moves with every motion he makes. The bead drips over, trailing over every bump and ridge.

"... What's wrong?" Clarice dares to speak, voice containing a rasp that floors her.

"... I can't," Harvey whines, back arching as he sculpts his hips into a particular rocking motion. "I-I can't, I need—" he chokes, leaning far enough that he has to grind his hips forward and back more than up and down for the strap-on to stay inside.

Then he jolts at a particular thrust he implores, gasping sharply. His brown eyes go wide, glasses jumping with every movement that he makes, suddenly speeding up. "Oh! Oh, please, please—"

His thighs tremble with effort, and suddenly he's sliding right down. Harvey's weight presses right into her as he essentially sits on her lap, making her let out a grunt of surprise rather than one of any meaningful discomfort. He's straddling her completely, and the whimper he lets out is downright pitiful.

Harvey blinks with wet eyes, his eyes searching for hers, face twisted with embarrassment. Need laces it, need seems nestled into every frantic little movement Harvey attempts to make. Only for Harvey's body to slump back down, clearly too exhausted to keep doing all the work. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but I can't— can you—?"

He suffers through the moment for air, face red as a strawberry, thighs still shaking even as he's seated. ".... Help me," he breathes, air whistling through his teeth a little. "Please."

The blood in her body is torn between two places. Clarice feels light-headed, her chest heaving for air she hadn't realized had dissipated. She's sweating before she's even doing anything, before she warily places her spare hand on his hip for support. Harvey groans with relief before she even properly helps him out. "Thank you, thank you." he chants.

He starts to move up again, more uninhibited thanks to the added momentum of Clarice's hand moving with him. Harvey lets out a hoarse cry when Clarice gathers enough courage to start rolling her hips up, meeting in a messy pace where neither is sure who should follow who.

Clarice shudders at the sudden increase in sounds, and more importantly, the volume. Face flaming, her mind wails to reprimand him in some way, to remind him of his neighbors who know him, but more importantly her. It's here where input and output scramble uselessly in the recesses of her brain. "Harvey! You— You need to quiet down." she hisses from her hand, on the cusp of a grand mistake. Her mind aims for swatting at his arm, but seeing as both hands are busy with equally important tasks, an easy pair of dots are connected.

Clarice raises her hand for a brief moment, smacking his ass lightly. Absently.

Harvey downright squeaks with shock, jerking on her lap. "I'm— I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

She could die right that moment, but thankfully, Harvey seems too out of it to make a comment on it. She cowers further into her hand all the same, body as hot as a furnace, eyes watering.

Clarice is just as quick to look through her fingers again, her other hand gripping his hip tightly, heart stopping in her chest when Harvey bites into his palm, muffling yet another cry. His eyes are lidded behind his glasses, breathing unsteady against his palm.

Harvey shakes his head, babbling around his hand as his body starts to tense up. "Clarice. Clarice. Feels good." His voice catches, bed creaking. An embarrassed pride stings her chest, hand clawing into his hip with her nails.

Despite the strain her voice, she forces what she knows he needs out. "You're doing so good, Harvey."

Harvey trembles, eyes squeezing shut, head tipping back. "... Clarice, 'm gonna..." he's nearly incoherent, too weak to keep riding the strap-on even with Clarice's guidance. Her moving hips seem to be enough to suffice, his teeth visibly digging deeper into his skin.

He blinks, once, then twice, then again, each one more rapid than the last. Harvey's body seizes, Clarice can feel it down to his thighs, his head bolting back forward. To her surprise, his other hand goes to cover the one holding his hip, his hips rolling in sporadic little bursts.

Harvey holds her hand to him tightly, dragging in one more ragged breath as the tension crests and drops with an abruptness entirely expected. He wheezes a little, sounding almost pained as his body quakes through the orgasm, cock twitching with little spurts.

All Clarice can do is watch with wide eyes, hiding them behind her hand again when it gets too much. All of this has been too much, really, but the feeling really implodes in the aftermath.

Soon enough, Harvey manages to haul his body to the spot next to her, sluggish and sated when he lets his body collapse. The bed squeaks in protest. Clarice's eyes burn more and more with unshed tears by the second, face hotter than the sun. She is half convinced that when she pulls her hand away, there will be burns staining her fingers and palm.

"Do you..." Harvey suddenly pipes up, lungs still audibly fighting for oxygen. "... want me to return the favor?" he asks, managing to sound as timid as he was breathless. "I mean, I know you didn't... finish." he coughs as quiet as a mouse.

Clarice makes a strangled sound, rolling on the side that turned her back to him. Tears spill out of her eyes, though she can't say any part of her regrets the experience. She's just... overwhelmed, mortified, and irritatingly horny. "No."

"Are you crying?" The bed dips as Harvey's voice pitches higher up in panic. "Oh, I'm so—"

"Harvey, it was hot," she sputters through tears, not giving him the chance to piss her off through his relentless apologies yet again. "Shut up. I'm just overwhelmed."

A hand tentatively reaches for her shoulder, Clarice's body tensing when she feels him stroke her shoulder assuringly. She hates him a little for it, hates it more when she actually relaxes.

It takes a moment of deliberate silence until the feeling soothes in her chest. Wiping away a few tears, she reluctantly rolls onto her other side, facing Harvey. “… Hi.” she says, voice a little muted.

“Hi.” The sentiment is mimicked easily, breathlessly, though he tacks a hesitant smile onto his flushed face. Clarice bursts into a giddy giggle for a reason she can’t quite pin down, giving him a watery smile. Harvey’s smile brightens, looking relieved. Some sexual exploration is healthy in the long run, she supposes, if it feels this freeing at the end.