Day 12 - Aerobic!
This one is special because I love the 6 heart cutscene and this inspired by aerobic activity that I did in high school every friday morning and then also thanks to this video reminding me how is the movement lol
prompt 26 - longing from @voideydew 's doccember list.
wanted to try something a little moody and emotional. i imagine harvey is glad to help people as a doctor, but it never really became a passion like aviation. this would be a scene from his clinic after it's closed, and he's feeling the heaviness and exhaustion that he usually keeps private.
The theme is youth.I chose to depict his fascination with airplanes, which opened up a whole new world for him. You know, hobbies are hobbies, but work is work.
For me, when I was a child, I most wanted to be a painter, but my career as an adult turned out differently.Perhaps, our shared childhood canvases were not wasted—they simply taught us how to see the world differently.(´▽｀)ノ
This is your NSFW slightly softdom Harvey thing warning.
The way Harvey dressed was the first thing that caught your eye about him. In a town full of flannel and faded jeans, Harvey always appeared in full professional regalia. Neatly pressed pants. Spotless white dress shirt. Perfectly knotted tie. And, to top it all off, an impeccably fitted suit jacket.
“I always felt drab in the city,” he’d admitted. It was after the two of you had gotten to know each other, when you were close enough that it felt natural to tell him how much you liked his clothing choices. In fact, you were close enough that all of Harvey’s clothing choices were now in your closet. He’d stand in front of your full length mirror every morning, straightening his cuffs, fiddling with his tie, and arranging the pendant that hung around his neck.
His last step would usually be putting on his jacket. You liked to watch him do it, the way he’d pick the garment up from where he’d laid it out on the bed. How he’d slip one arm through and then the other. How his nimble fingers would grasp the lapel, the way he’d shrug his shoulders so it would settle perfectly. The same routine every morning.
Except not this morning, because you were the one wearing his jacket, and nothing else underneath.
It’d been a perfect alignment of schedule and opportunity. Your barn chores took you a little longer than usual that day, which meant you got out of the shower a little later than usual, which meant you were getting dressed at the same time as Harvey, which meant it was next to no effort to skip your own routine and crawl into Harvey’s suit jacket instead.
You loved the smell of it. Clean and woodsy, a hint of Harvey’s shampoo and a deeper, less identifiable smell that was just him. The outside of the wool jacket was a little scratchy where it made contact with your skin, but the inside was lined with silk and felt far more comfortable than it had any right to be.
Harvey hadn’t noticed your thievery until it was too late. He turned towards the bed, where his jacket always lay as he dressed, and a flash of puzzlement hit his face. “Honey,” he started, “have you seen…”
But his eyes had already moved to where you were sitting on the bed, knees tucked to the side, hand bracing yourself on the mattress, jacket dwarfing you but revealing just enough skin to make it clear that you were wearing nothing underneath. Harvey’s eyes widened as he assessed the situation, a bit of pink starting to stain his cheeks.
“Looking for this?” you asked, all feigned coyness, and gestured to yourself. The jacket sleeve covered your hand almost to the tips of your fingers.
“I am.” Harvey’s voice was calm, but the glint in his eye and the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth suggested a mixture of excitement and agitation.
“I see, I see,” you nodded, making absolutely no attempt to offer up your new coat.
Harvey laughed a little, his eyes traveling up and down the way his jacket draped over your body. “I don’t suppose you’d hand it over, would you?”
You gasped in mock scandal. “Of course not! I’m not wearing anything underneath! It’d be indecent!”
“Indecent, hmmm?” Harvey had given up all pretense of hiding his smile. He leaned on the bed with one knee. “Then I guess it’d be even worse to remove it from you.”
“And how!” you agreed, then shrieked with laughter as Harvey leaned forward and got his hands around the collar of his coat. He pulled a little, just enough to get you off balance and send you falling onto your back. The jacket fell open, and Harvey looked down on you with nothing short of appreciation.
He huffed a laugh. “You’re going to make me late for work,” he said.
“Just get another jacket,” you were going to sass back, but his palms had found your thighs and your words turned into a sigh.
Harvey’s hands felt like they always felt - sure and strong and warm, not rough but not soft either. They squeezed gently at the top of your legs, then shifted to let his thumbs run along the line where your thighs were pressed together. You parted for him easily. You always did.
The jacket had shifted, the back falling down just enough to pin your upper arms to your sides. But still, you had enough wiggle room to get your hands in his hair as he lowered his face between your legs. You could feel his breath on you, feel the way his fingertips pressed into your skin as he looked up at you. “Is this what you were aiming for?” he asked, and left a lingering kiss on your thigh.
“Yup,” you gasped as his lips changed to a gentle nip. “Pretty much.”
“Mmmmm.” It wasn’t clear if Harvey’s hum was in agreement. He was back to leaving kisses on your thigh, his mustache tickling as he moved over your skin. Then, with a warm laugh: “I don’t know if I should reward this kind of behavior.”
You were about to protest, already trying to direct his head back in between your legs, but he was moving, up on his hands and knees, his legs holding yours open, his hands settled on either side of your head. His dress pants felt rough as you couldn’t help but shift against him, and his tie was cool as it draped down over your chest. You shivered with the contrast of it - Harvey in his dress clothes, you wearing not much more than you had on in the shower.
“This isn’t a reward,” he said, and leaned down to find your mouth with his. You would have begged to differ if you could speak. His kisses were always a reward, achingly slow, thorough without being demanding. Your arms had grown even more entangled in his jacket, so all you could do was arch yourself up into him, trying to chase his lips as they pulled away, then giving up with a whine as he shifted to the side.
And then his hand again, grazing over your stomach, tracing down between your legs, and you were sure the soft groan he let out was due to how little friction he found there. “Little minx,” he teased, and pressed two fingers inside of you. “Couldn’t wait for this evening, could you?”
You could never wait for Harvey, and you told him that, voice hitching as his fingertips pulsed at your walls. He smiled and ducked his head - it didn’t matter if he was in control or you were: he was never graceful in accepting praise.
He was, however, quite graceful with his hands, and you found your hips arching upwards, chasing more, the kneading of his middle and ring finger, the light teasing circle of his thumb, drawing you up until you were at the point of breaking, but at the last second he drew away.
“Not a reward,” he said, eyes crinkling above flushed cheeks. You would have started cursing him out right about then if he wasn’t reaching for his belt buckle and settling back in between your legs. “No messes, okay sweetheart?” he said, and pushed himself inside.
A slow rock of his hips. The zipper edge of his fly pressing up against the place where your thighs met your ass. The scrape of his jacket’s wool as it bunched up against your waist and sides. You barely noticed it though, too caught up in the ebb and flow of Harvey’s tide. His hands cradling your head. His mouth on yours, tongue nudging between your lips, soft pants and groans as you locked your legs around his back. A rise, a crest, a fall, the two of you breathing against each other as a cow lowed outside.
“Can I have my jacket now?” Harvey asked, softening inside of you.
“I guess you’ve earned it,” you admitted, keeping your legs locked tight.
It’d take a few more minutes still for Harvey to make his way to work. You watched him shrug his jacket on while climbing into your flannel and faded jeans. It suited him, the jacket, the suit, the tie. But every once in a while they suited you too.
