totalwildcard | Needful Things Building; Monday

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apartment,
marc

Needful Things Building; Monday

The Dream House was gone by morning, replaced again with the antique store and the apartment above it, both with all four walls intact, and the color scheme decidedly less pink.

And in said apartment, late in the morning, Harley woke up with a start. Like fully bolting upright and everything, with a gasp.

"... Barbie looks like me."

She couldn't believe it. She brought her hands up to her face, smooshing her cheeks.

"Like me."

This jaw! These cheekbones under her skin!

Something about it was making her eyes well up.

At least, until something else about the weekend came back to her. "Bruce!" Oh, God, he'd been eating something obviously plastic, all weekend long! Harley scrambled out of bed to find him - only to, yes, find him curled up in one of his usual spots, seemingly right as rain.

She still ended up taking him on a long walk around town. It took a while for her to be convinced that just as magically as he'd turned into a toy dog for the weekend, whatever the plastic stuff he'd been eating (and, to be fair, pooping out at what seemed like an alarming rate for a fully functioning gastric system) had just as magically turned into actually edible stuff in his guts when he'd turned back. He seemed fine! He was leaving behind dog shit that was the usual level of disgusting!

Still, between the long walk and then breakfast for both him and herself, the morning had already turned into the afternoon by the time something occurred to Harley, and sent her bolting down the stairs into the store.

There, she found the display of dolls of varying ages and kinds.

And there, tucked near the back, was a Barbie. Harley carefully pulled her out from between a Victorian-ish porcelain doll and a fairly creepy 1950s baby, and smiled down at her.

It was a little watery, but there was no one here to see it, was there?

"Oh, there you are."

Something in her chest ached a little.

(expecting one!)

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It was a shame she couldn't see him, because Marc was looking down at Harley with a warm expression that was only partially due to the heat she was stoking within him. Or perhaps Marc unconsciously felt more able to look at her that way because her eyes were closed.

Regardless, his movements were clear as he took her suggestion to go deeper, trying to chase more of her mouth but not so much that he gagged her. The hand on the back of her head stayed where it was, his thumb rubbing back and forth in silent appreciation.

He was still watching her, so he managed a, "Gorgeous..." which was kind of impressive, syllable-wise. At least given his current level of distraction and bloodflow.

They'd done this sort of thing enough times by now that Harley knew to both drink in any actual words he said in the middle of things, and knew to appreciate something longer than a single syllable right now. She hummed in return, pleased, if there was any specific emotion to be assigned to the sound.

As he claimed more of her mouth like she'd invited him to, Harley's other hand finally left his length altogether. That arm got then looped loosely around his thigh, like she needed to cover even more of him. Which may have been a familiar urge from all the times she tried to wrap all of herself around him in some other situations.

But nothing that would keep them from moving the way they were. Harley'd promised devotion, and she was delivering. Putting everything she had into just making sure he felt good, that the heat built and built.

Some part of Marc that was able to focus on thoughts was dimly aware of contrasts. A kind of before Harley/after Harley that focused on things like the likelihood of Marc agreeing to, well, any of this.

There was perhaps more to contemplate as far as that went. But for now Marc was tucking it away and putting his focus on the present. What it felt like to have Harley's mouth around him and her hands on him. What it looked like to see her doing this and having at the very least fun (possibly other enjoyments, he wasn't diving too deep into that).

And of course the way it felt as he grew warmer and warmer, muscles tightening as Harley was very good at what she was doing.

Harley had given up on all superfluous thought altogether. For once, everything her senses were feeding her in the present was enough: the taste of him, the scent of him, the warmth of his skin all over, the texture of it against her tongue, the weight of his hand against her head, every sound in her ears from his breathing to whatever wet noises there were from her mouth --

It was plenty, for once, to keep Harley zeroed in on the moment. The only awareness for anything outside of it seemed to be for the signs in him that told her things were building up.

Her nails dug into his chest a little. Not sharply, just... pressure. And she pushed forward just a little bit more, right up to the edge of gagging, but not quite.

Giving.

That got a longer hum of pleasure out of Marc. He wanted to move faster but staying right there, so much of her around him, was a great combination of wanting and having and he didn't want that to stop either.

He steadied his breathing instead, giving himself more endurance. But it was more about the fine line of not just yet than greatly prolonging the ending. He'd be close soon. She could probably tell that from the tremble in his muscles. But for this second he was going to savor it.

Edited 2024-08-12 19:52 (UTC)

And Harley had no problem with any savoring he wanted to do right now, none at all.

She held, for a little moment, then pulled back only to do it again. Humming again, like he was a treat for her to savor.

That got Marc's hum all the way up to a groan. Open mouthed, even. He tried to hold still, because what she was doing with her mouth was great and he didn't want to mess it up by even a hairsbreadth. His thumb kept up a pattern of rubbing back and forth on her head though, encouraging her to keep going.

So Harley kept going. Her hold on his leg got a little firmer, like she was using it as an anchor for how she kept moving - perhaps a little bit quicker, but with that same depth, and with hums and other noises here and there where he'd really feel them.

There was something almost mischievous about that part. Like she was playing with him as she coaxed him higher and higher - so at least there was no secret here about her own enjoyment of this.

She was very good at what she did. Marc's breathing grew ragged. The hand on the back of her head held tighter. He started moving again. Not thrusting, but unconscious, instinctual shifting of his hips to get more of everything she was doing. It was clear she was getting him closer even before he murmured, "Just like that..."

It was often Harley's first instinct to laugh when she was pleased or happy. Didn't entirely sound like one under these circumstances, but close enough! The emotion was still there!

Just... a little garbled.

Anyway, she could keep at it, just like that. Relishing in the tension in his muscles and how his breathing sounded, and every other little sign that she was getting to him. That he was letting her get to him, and letting her give all this to him. Would've been a given - heh - with a lot of guys, but not him.

She. Kept. Going.

And normally a guy wouldn't like a laugh when it came to somebody near his dick. But with Harley Marc knew it was because she was feeling joyful. Which in turn got Marc feeling some kind of way. Something that related back to how he'd ultimately decided not to go with anonymous, meaningless hookups. That thing he'd told Harley about only being interested in what was worth remembering.

A feeling in his chest that liked when she was happy.

Which all combined with what she was doing to get Marc closer and closer, losing words again but able to do a tighter squeeze on her head to warn her that he'd be going over in a sec for however she wanted to handle it.

Harley felt it.

She gave his thigh a reassuring squeeze in return. He was fine, he was good.

Closest to an I've gotcha she could get right now.

With that it didn't take too long. A few seconds more of movement and pressure sending him higher until finally he let go. Not of her, himself, hitting the climax while making a loud groan that might have been her name? Maybe?

Whatever it was, it seemed to match the intensity of his heartbeat under her hand and the firm way he held her head as if reassuring himself that she was there, and real, and not going anywhere.

Whatever that noise was, if you asked Harley, it was amazing, and sent heat all through her to hear.

Her hand was pressed flat against his chest, the other curled along his thigh, and she did not go anywhere, no. Her movements slowed, but only to really draw his climax out for him. Lapping him up and swallowing him down.

She was here and real and cared about his pleasure, see.

Marc's breathing gradually slowed as the rest of him came down from the high into a pleasant buzz. He moved the hand behind her head to caress her cheek, looking at her... well looking at her warmly. Let's say that.

"Nice one, Doc," he murmured.

Harley pulled her mouth off him and giggled. Again, not a great reaction by a lot of people's standards, but he knew her better than that.

She leaned her head against his hip, winding her arm further around his leg, but also tilted her face up so she could look up and smile at him.

Licking her lips was unnecessary, but made for a fun gesture. "What was it again? A nickel?"

It took Marc a second because that callback was like a thousand years ago now, memory-wise. Plus, yanno, bloodflow was still adjusting. Rough time for remembering details.

But then he clicked and he laughed. "Very funny."

Oh look, he was offering her a hand up now.

So he was!

Harley smiling wider was not a coincidence.

She untangled herself from his leg, and pulled her hand out from under his shirt - after one last little rub against his chest - before taking his offered hand and the help that came with it.

It was slightly selfish help. He used the momentum of her standing combined with the hold on her hand to pull her in for a kiss.

Did a kiss count as selfish at this particular moment in time? Eh, he was doing it no matter what it counted as. He wanted to and there she was.

Irrelevant, Harley would have said. All she knew was she was getting kissed, and so she was kissing him back.

Happily, complete with a little noise that suggested as much!

Marc was still enjoying a nice buzz so there wasn't anything too heated or hungry about it. But it was long, and warm, and in no particular rush to stop.

She'd worked hard after all. He wanted to show his appreciation.

Harley was feeling real appreciated, and wasn't in a rush to stop, either. She slid her arm around him, which seemed to suggest that too.

There was something happening in her chest again, but it felt pleasant, so why worry?

Marc got his arms around her and held her nice and tight. She could breathe. Just, yanno, secure. No question on being held, if she'd had any doubts in that area.

Along with the kissing. Which involved a little lip sucking now too.

Harley gave another pleased hum. Almost a purr, really.

Her other arm ended up in its rightful place around his shoulders. Only thing better than being held by him was getting all tangled up again, see.

Marc didn't mind being tangled with her. Which was why he leaned back and pulled her with him until he was once again sitting on the couch, ideally with her in his lap once more.

Yeah, there was a whole pants situation going on but that wasn't nearly as important as reacquiring a lapful of Harley.

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