[ The whole thing feels awkward and uncomfortable. Even before the world ended, casual sex wasn't his thing. Sure, there were a couple drunken hookups after his ex kicked him out - each more regrettable than the last - but Pope read him the riot act and that was that. And then there was no room for any of that after the world ended, once they started closing ranks tighter and tighter.
And then he ended up here. And needs must.
Carver sucks on his teeth, watching her intently. She's pretty - he can admit that. He noticed it from the start. It didn't matter because why would it matter? But maybe if they'd met in a bar before the world ended, he would have asked if she wanted to play darts or something. Maybe. ]
Okay. "Mirrors" is pretty open-ended. How'd you wanna play that?
[ It might seem uncomfortable, at least to Carver, but Harley's just acting casual about it. She doesn't feel weird. She's never really felt weird about sex whether she's in a relationship or just having fun for the sake of it. But she's well aware, especially after witnessing how some people are reacting to the sentencing rules of this place, that not everyone is as relaxed about it as she is.
Well, I moved the full-length mirror that was on the back of the bathroom door and propped it up over there. So. I figure it probably counts if it's, like, in the room? Where we can see it?
She gestures across from the cot, where the mirror is leaving against the wall. It's angled so she can see her reflection from the bed. That has to count, right? What else could 'mirrors' mean? ]
You want a drink or somethin' to take the edge off?
[ He seems a little less comfortable than she feels, so she figures maybe a little of the old social lubricant might help some. ]
[ Harley gestures to the cot once she gets up off of it, crossing the room to pull open the mini-fridge she'd finally been able to afford. It definitely came in handy during the food shortage, and it makes the hooch last longer. It also tastes a little less obnoxious when it's cold. She grabs a couple of plastic cups and fills both, walking back over and handing one off to Carver. ]
Okay, so. Maybe we should go over what we don't like? Y'know, avoid making things potentially uncomfortable. I know you said no bondage. Is there anything else? Or anything you're into?
[ He inclines his head to her slightly, an old politeness. It feels awkward here, an uncomfortable fit, but she’s sharing her space and her alcohol and that doesn’t mean nothing.
So, he drinks. He stays standing. It’s prison hooch so it goes down about as expected. ]
Don’t choke me. I don’t want to choke you.
[ Pretty standard stuff. Carver pauses, considering. He hasn’t done this sober for a long time. All his encounters here involved drugs. This is a novelty. ]
I’ll go down on you if you want. You can grab my hair. Don’t care if you like it rough or not, but I’m not here for a fight.
[ He sucks on his teeth, watching Harley. Checking her reaction. ]
Probably doesn’t need to be said, but just so we’re all on the same page: no racist shit. Really not in the mood for that.
[ Harley nods as she listens. She raises a brow at the racism comment, wondering how many times that's actually come up for him to have to say he doesn't like that. Gross. ]
Cool, sounds good. I'm good at sucking dick, you can go down on me or fuck me or all of the above. Whatever floats your boat. Just don't hold me down, don't call me degrading names, and don't leave any permanent marks. No...knives.
[ The last one has her pausing, her gaze averting for a quick moment. That's still a sensitive topic, apparently. Something that happened recently; here. She's not going to talk about it, but that much is obvious to the observant person. But, she clears her throat, downs her hooch, and recovers quickly enough. ]
[ Boundaries are good. Don’t hold her down, don’t call her names, no lasting marks, and no knives. Easy enough to remember. The last one sparked a reaction, though. A pause before she got the word out.
Carver takes another sip from his drink, ignoring the taste. The taste isn’t the point. Then he sets it down on the counter and unsheathes the kukri knife he wears at his side, showing it to her briefly before setting it down as well. He’s got another hidden in his boot, but the one on his belt would have been too hard to ignore once they got into it for real. So. ]
I haven’t done this sober in a while, [ he says after a moment. She’s too sharp not to pick up on that. ] But I’ll remember. Might as well fuck if you’re cool with it.
[ Harley appreciates the fact that Carver shows her the knife and sets it aside, even if the sight causes a brief shiver to run up her spine. She briefly recalls the feel of cold steel running down the length of her spine, feeling the sharp sting and the warmth of the blood pouring out over her pale flesh, her clothing falling away in tattered pieces. But that isn't to be thought of right now. So she puts it away and puts on a smile. ]
That's okay. Maybe it'll be more fun sober.
[ She's one to think on the bright side. Or at least she tries to most of the time. She can tell Carver's a little uneasy, and it means something that he admits that aloud, even though she has a feeling before he says anything. ]
Then come over here and fuck me.
[ Harley bites her lower lip. Sure, it won't just happen like that--all at once; but they have to start somewhere, so Harley pushes herself to her feet and if Carver approaches, she'll meet him halfway and tangle her fingers in his long hair before pressing her mouth to his. It's slow at first, but fiery. Less tenderness and more ferocity. ]
[ She meets him halfway and that helps in a way he wasn't expecting. Makes it feel more mutual, less like a chore they've both been set and need to complete before they can go their separate ways and never think about it again. She reaches out and Carver ducks his head so she can touch his hair. She doesn't wrench it, doesn't try to get him off balance or shove a knife in his throat, so he figures that's a good start and so he puts his hands on her hips, squeezing faintly, and kisses her back. He matches her pace.
It's been a while, aside from a few drugged moments here, but he's not bad at kissing. ]
[ Harley is feeling out how to urge Carver forward without spooking him and making things regress. Slow progress? She'll work on it, even if she knows that once this is over and done with, things will more than likely go back to the way things were before. With her trying hard and him barely responding. Who knows, though? Maybe she'll be surprised. In the meantime, she's focusing on kissing him. She likes how he matches her pace and isn't afraid to put something into it instead of her having to fully take the lead. Tipping her head to one side, she deepens the kiss a little, her tongue swiping against his lips. She nips at his lower lip when she pulls back just enough to pull in a breath of air, the hand that isn't in his hair coming up to rest at the side of his face, feeling the scratch of his facial hair against her palm.
She stumbles backward a little, one hand slipping free of his hair to feel behind her for the edge of the cot so she's not jarred by its sudden appearance behind her legs. When she reaches it, she sits and urges Carver along with her, taking one of his hands and pressing it to the curve of her breast, even though they're both fully dressed. She'll take her time with this and feel out what he reacts well to. ]
[ It helps that she doesn’t hesitate, either. Just goes for it, tugs him back and puts his hand on her breast so it’s easy to follow suit. They’ve still got all their clothes on, Carver far more than her, and it turns out he does like kissing sober. Who knew?
He drags his free hand over her ribs and then curls it around her hip. Good, steady pressure. Not enough to bruise—he’s good at that part, remembering the rules. And she kisses him back harder so he does as well, dragging his teeth against her lip.
[ Harley always just goes for it unless she's with someone like-minded. Then there's a little battle for control sometimes, but it usually just adds to the fun. So, if her assertiveness is something that relaxes Carver, then this should all be smooth sailing.
She arches her tight body into his touch as his hand trails down her ribcage to settle at her hip. He squeezes, but she notes that it's not a crushing grip. Firm, but not enough to leave a mark the next day. She smiles against his lips and then brings another hand up, cupping his face as she kisses him more intensely. She moans into his mouth, the sound vibrating between their lips when he drags his teeth over her flesh, letting him know precisely how she feels about that. If he needs reactions to guide him, she can do that. Not that she can help it most of the time. She's actually being a bit more subdued than normal. Harley is anything but quiet in bed, but something about Carver tells her to take it easy and test his limits rather than doing exactly what she's used to.
Her hand drops from his face to his thigh and then her palm is sliding up until she reaches his lap, pressing her palm firmly against his crotch. There are far too many layers in between them and she pulls back from the kiss but only far enough to speak breathlessly. ]
Too much clothing...
[ She's already pulling back to shed her shirt and shimmy out of her jean shorts and suspenders, leaving her in the hot pink sports bra and a pair of panties. Your turn, Carver. Unless you want her taking your clothes off. ]
[ This whole thing could have been awkward and rough, a chore to be completed. He'd thought it might be, when it started. But then it shifted. She makes that noise and he presses against her, slipping a hand under her shirt to drag against bare skin. To feel if she has scars like his.
He leans back just enough to unclip his hood, shrug out of his coat and let it fall. He likes layers, armor. Even with the heat back home, he needed that. Pope gave them the closest thing to uniforms and he's held to that in the aftermath. And then he shrugs out of his shirt, because there's really no point in being coy. He takes a moment to watch her, take her in the same way she's taking him in. Under all his layers, Carver knows he's strong. He keeps fighting fit because he has to, and they were eating good at Meridian before all the bullshit went down. Enough rations to go around, no flirting with starvation. But he's got scars too, and she's probably smart enough to know what caused them. A dappling of old, pocked scars from an IED over his belly, a slash from a knife over his collarbone. And, of course, the deeper scar over his heart from the kid's scythe, with his pendant hanging over it.
These things happen.
Carver shrugs, and leans in to kiss her again. Hard, this time. ]
[ Harley feels the tension start to slip away, things falling into place and happening more easily. Carver presses against her, and the reciprocation has her gasping in appreciation. She pushes her body into his touch as his hand slides up her shirt. Not all of Harley's scars are ones that can be seen, though she has plenty of those as well from both sides of fighting crime. She would have had some additional, very distinct scars, if the alien technology at Medical hadn't all but erased the wounds that Victor Zsasz had carved into her flesh. Those, she was happy to be rid of. The memory and her persisting nervousness around blades is more than enough.
Harley can't help but let her hands trace over Carver's exposed torso, noting the texture beneath her fingertips as they slide over the various peaks and valleys of his scars. Scars say a lot about a person's life and, perhaps, in this moment, some of his behaviors begin to make sense to her.
But then his mouth is on her again, hard, and the thoughts flutter from her brain like birds taking flight. Her tongue curls against his and another moan vibrates between their lips as she urges him onto the cot with her. She breaks the kiss reluctantly, breathing hard. ]
How do you want me?
[ What position, she means. There are plenty to choose from, and her mouth curls into a smirk as she adds: ]
[ She doesn't hesitate to touch his scars, to run her fingers over the surface of them like she's trying to learn him like topography. Before this place, not many people had. He had Riley before the world ended and any number of drunken hookups he barely remembers. And then there was after, and that was just that. He closed ranks with his family. He doubled down. There were a few people on the road, but not many, and not for a few years now.
Then, this place. And now, her.
She doesn't bother being coy, or holding back. She just wants, and reaches for him, and she's breathing hard when she breaks the kiss. Carver cants his head, watching her.
He's breathing a little harder too. Caught up in it, despite himself. He doesn't even care about the mirror anymore. ]
Ride me.
[ He didn't plan this out at the start. Not really. If it just happened, then it wasn't anyone's fault. But this -
[ The mirror has long been forgotten by Harley. She's far too wrapped up in the lust that's taking over her body and consciousness in wave after wave. It softens her other thoughts--of the other people she's met here and whether or not they know Carver and whether or not this will change any dynamics.
She doubts it, though. She either knows or is pretty certain that everyone she's slept with here has already slept with someone else, and most likely someone else that she also knows. It's just seemed to work out that way. But that isn't what she's focusing on any longer; not with Carver tipping his head just so as she breaks the kiss. She presses a hand to his scarred chest, as if in reassurance, but it's apparent in his words that it isn't needed.
Ride me. The statement comes loud and clear, and Harley would be lying if it didn't send heat spreading through her lower abdomen, into the space between her thighs, and down her legs. She's thrumming with need and his words are speaking promises that her body will hold to him.
Harley grins, pushing Carver back onto the bed, a little less gently than she may have moved before, though she's still trying not to spook him too much. She strips off her underwear easily and then reaches behind her to unclip her bra, tossing it away before she climbs onto the cot, her fingers curling into the waistband of Carver's boxers.
She can sense the shift between need and want, and it's the want piece of it that's egging her on, wanting her to coax out of Carver those primal instincts. She wants to learn what he likes. ]
Like this?
[ Harley feigns innocence, crouching over him as she takes his cock into her hand and strokes him firmly, holding him up and lowering herself just enough to tease the tip with her slick folds. She wants to hear it, Carver. ]
[ She pushes him back and Carver lets her with a grunt, hissing out a breath as she takes him in hand. This is happening. They decided, didn't they? It's not something he would have done back home, even if by some miracle they'd managed to meet. They just would have killed each other. ]
Mhmm.
[ He doesn't jump the gun as she teases him, just reaches up to cup a hand to the back of her neck and the other to her breast, squeezing. Holding her close as she decides what she's going to do, how long she's going to drag it out. He holds, his eyes bright - and utterly focused on her. ]
[ It's one way to feel more in control in a place like prison, where control is stripped from you at every turn--deciding who you'll sleep with before this place inevitably decides for you. Carver wouldn't necessarily be Harley's type, either, back home, but here things are different and she appreciates the fit, muscular frame that sits sturdily beneath her. He's keeping her feeling grounded, somehow, through it all.
She likes the way his fingers curl around the back of her neck and her back arches, pressing her chest forward as he kneads one of her breasts, the nipple already hard and taut, a testament to her arousal. She's teasing herself as much as she is him, and another moan leaves her lips as she presses the tip of him against her clit, using him to pleasure herself for a few tense moments before she can't wait any longer.
Thighs quivering, Harley holds him in position and sinks down onto his length, finally allowing him to fill that emptiness that had become almost too much to bear. Her muscles twitch around the intrusion, but it is most welcome. She throws her head back, a smile on her face as she lets out a pleased sound, letting herself adjust around him before she presses her palms to his firm chest and starts to move, steadily, but at a slower pace at first, tipping her head towards to look down at him. ]
[ There’s no hesitation from her, no delay. She knows what she wants and she reaches for it. Puts her hands on his chest, against his scars, and rides him just like he asked. She’s wet, and hot around him, and her thighs are strong. He hisses out another strangled breath, leaning forward to drag his mouth against her shoulder. Muffling the noise he might have made otherwise. You have to be quiet back home or the dead will hear. ]
Fuck.
[ He kneads her breast again, running his free hand along the planes of her back. She’s strong, and solid, and that feels better than he thought it ever could. It’s simple and so little is in this place. There are no drugs, but he wants her. The honesty of it nearly floors him and he hisses out another wordless curse as he jerks his hips up, matching her rhythm. ]
[ Harley tends to like her partners vocal, but there's something she finds kind of hot in the way that Carver struggles to muffle his sounds, feeling the heat of his breath against her shoulder as he attempts to quiet the noise. She would probably find it less attractive if she knew why he was doing it...or maybe the thought would make it more exciting. Like doing something you're not supposed to with the risk of being caught adding a dangerous tint to it all, even if the threat here is only an imagined one born out of habit.
Her blunt nails bite a little at Carver's skin and she pulls one hand off of his chest to slide up her own ribcage, grabbing the breast that Carver isn't paying attention to and giving it a squeeze, moaning as she puts on a little show for him. With only one hand balancing her, her thigh and core muscles engaging to compensate. She sighs as she starts bouncing herself harder onto his lap, the sound of their bodies meeting slickly filling the air around them. ]
Oh, fuck...
[ She breathes the curse, grimacing in pleasure as Carver presses up into her, matching her pace. Her other hand leaves his chest too and then her legs are doing all the work as her hand slides on top of his where it rests on her breast, squeezing on top of it, just wanting to feel some closeness--some connection. ]
[ Like before, she just goes for what she wants. No hesitation, no game. She wants, and so she takes, and there's something so honest and joyful in it that Carver can't help but get swept up in her wake. He braces his hand against her back to steady her, hissing out a curse. Goddamn, half-muffled into her shoulder.
Goddamn.
He works her breast as they move together, pressing his thumb against her nipple and working it stiff. It's been a while since he's done this sober, or done this with someone he chose, but turns out it come back quick. Turns out it comes back just fine. ]
[ Harley nearly playfully chides Carver for taking the good lord's name in vain. She isn't religious. But she remembers bringing up the 'rituals' thing on her sentence when she and Carver were deciding what to do as if they were picking a purchase from a catalog. It was interesting. Experiencing it is better. This is better. He had mentioned that it might be something about bringing religion into sex, and Harley had immediately felt put off by it. Carver hadn't verbalized anything, but he would have after she had said what she did. If he'd felt differently. She doesn't say anything. Besides, it was hot. The way he breathed the curse against her shoulder. Again. It turns her on the second time just as much as it had the first.
Harley presses into Carver's touch, breath hitching as her nipple comes to a hardened peak beneath the pad of his thumb. It does; it comes back just perfect. Harley feels herself getting closer, but she drops her hips, her full weight resting on Carver as he's pressed into her as deeply as is physically possible. She rocks, not pulling herself up at all, just feeling him inside of her, letting the threat of orgasm pass as her muscles twitch around him. Harley still moves, but only shifting him within her and not providing and 'in and out' motion. Once the sensation passes, though, she flexes her thighs and starts bouncing in his lap again, this time with more desperation behind her movements. ]
[ She sets a pattern, changes it, settles or speeds it up, and Carver just rides with her. He thinks of river tides and what it feels like to get swept up in someone else's wake - a sensation he hasn't felt with another person for a long time, or at least not without drugs to speed it all along. But there's something raw in the way she moves, honest, and Carver can admire that even as he drags his mouth against her shoulder and shudders under her. Falling away to the physical. He can feel her speeding up, the way her thighs clench. Proof that it's getting to her, that he's not the only one fighting for control.
Riley was like that, he thinks absently. Always reaching for something real, committing fully. Carver was always the one who held back. Afraid of losing control - ironic, really, when that's all he ever did out in the world. But that's not a good thought for right now and it slips away before it can become something, slips away into nothing and Carver squeezes her breast again before shifting to catch her chin in his hand and pulling her in for a rough kiss.
He's close, is the thing. But he'll hold. He'll hold as long as he can. ]
[ Carver doesn't reply to what she says, but he doesn't have to. His body is speaking for him, and Harley's eagerly reading every muffled sound and every twitch of his muscles as though she's reading a novel. She's eating up everything he's giving to her. It occurs to her that this is the most they've spoken to each other since they've met and yet neither of them is actually saying much. Bodies do the talking sometimes, and it feels like that's the case here. She's picking up on the ebbs and flows of energy between them, closing her eyes and tipping her head back briefly as she drags blunt nails over Carver's chest, leaving slightly pink lines in their wake. Nothing that'll stick around. They'll fade by morning, but something in her hopes he'll catch a glimpse of the marks when he gets back to his own space and think of her.
She arches her back more sharply to adjust the angle at which their hips are meeting and it causes another moan to be pulled from her. ]
Oh, fuck...I'm almost there...
[ She reaches down to rub at her clit, unashamed of giving him a show, pressing her chest into the hand that's still on her breast. She bounces harder and faster in his lap, gasping at the sensation as everything in her starts to coil and tighten. She's so close she can taste it. Suddenly, her pleasure comes to a sharp peak, and then her muscles clench rhythmically around his cock as she comes. She squirts, too, having forgotten to warn him but it isn't a lot. Enough for him to notice, but not enough for it to become a real inconvenience. She'd masturbated before he came over to release a little tension, so it's less of a feature than it normally would be, though still definitely there. She works through her orgasm, shuddering but keeping her pace strong, wanting him to finish too. She wants him to feel what she's feeling even if she's not entirely sure why. ]
[ There’s no hesitation in what she does, in how she moves. She runs her nails down his chest, catching against old scars, and Carver makes a strangled noise as he grabs her hips to match her. He can feel her tense up, the control and then the moment it slips, and still she keeps going. She holds the pace and what can he do except follow suit? Earlier he might have balked at what she says, worried about the practicals, but condoms don’t seem to be a thing around here and she feels good around him in a way that very little does these days.
Carver runs his hands up and down her sides, bracing himself, bracing her, and just lets go. He’s quiet when he comes, muffing the sound against her shoulder. He runs his fingers along her back, tracing out the ridges of ink and scars alike, and just breathes.
For a moment, there are no words. No words at all. ]
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momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2022-09-24 06:36 pm (UTC)[ The whole thing feels awkward and uncomfortable. Even before the world ended, casual sex wasn't his thing. Sure, there were a couple drunken hookups after his ex kicked him out - each more regrettable than the last - but Pope read him the riot act and that was that. And then there was no room for any of that after the world ended, once they started closing ranks tighter and tighter.
And then he ended up here. And needs must.
Carver sucks on his teeth, watching her intently. She's pretty - he can admit that. He noticed it from the start. It didn't matter because why would it matter? But maybe if they'd met in a bar before the world ended, he would have asked if she wanted to play darts or something. Maybe. ]
Okay. "Mirrors" is pretty open-ended. How'd you wanna play that?
no subject
Date: 2022-09-25 07:43 am (UTC)Well, I moved the full-length mirror that was on the back of the bathroom door and propped it up over there. So. I figure it probably counts if it's, like, in the room? Where we can see it?
She gestures across from the cot, where the mirror is leaving against the wall. It's angled so she can see her reflection from the bed. That has to count, right? What else could 'mirrors' mean? ]
You want a drink or somethin' to take the edge off?
[ He seems a little less comfortable than she feels, so she figures maybe a little of the old social lubricant might help some. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-25 03:42 pm (UTC)Sure. Hit me.
[ He won't get drunk but taking the edge off sounds like a good idea - better than standing awkwardly, and half at attention, like a nutcase. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-25 04:55 pm (UTC)[ Harley gestures to the cot once she gets up off of it, crossing the room to pull open the mini-fridge she'd finally been able to afford. It definitely came in handy during the food shortage, and it makes the hooch last longer. It also tastes a little less obnoxious when it's cold. She grabs a couple of plastic cups and fills both, walking back over and handing one off to Carver. ]
Okay, so. Maybe we should go over what we don't like? Y'know, avoid making things potentially uncomfortable. I know you said no bondage. Is there anything else? Or anything you're into?
no subject
Date: 2022-09-25 10:28 pm (UTC)So, he drinks. He stays standing. It’s prison hooch so it goes down about as expected. ]
Don’t choke me. I don’t want to choke you.
[ Pretty standard stuff. Carver pauses, considering. He hasn’t done this sober for a long time. All his encounters here involved drugs. This is a novelty. ]
I’ll go down on you if you want. You can grab my hair. Don’t care if you like it rough or not, but I’m not here for a fight.
[ He sucks on his teeth, watching Harley. Checking her reaction. ]
Probably doesn’t need to be said, but just so we’re all on the same page: no racist shit. Really not in the mood for that.
Your turn. Anything you don’t want?
no subject
Date: 2022-09-25 11:58 pm (UTC)Cool, sounds good. I'm good at sucking dick, you can go down on me or fuck me or all of the above. Whatever floats your boat. Just don't hold me down, don't call me degrading names, and don't leave any permanent marks. No...knives.
[ The last one has her pausing, her gaze averting for a quick moment. That's still a sensitive topic, apparently. Something that happened recently; here. She's not going to talk about it, but that much is obvious to the observant person. But, she clears her throat, downs her hooch, and recovers quickly enough. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-26 12:15 am (UTC)Carver takes another sip from his drink, ignoring the taste. The taste isn’t the point. Then he sets it down on the counter and unsheathes the kukri knife he wears at his side, showing it to her briefly before setting it down as well. He’s got another hidden in his boot, but the one on his belt would have been too hard to ignore once they got into it for real. So. ]
I haven’t done this sober in a while, [ he says after a moment. She’s too sharp not to pick up on that. ] But I’ll remember. Might as well fuck if you’re cool with it.
no subject
Date: 2022-09-26 04:10 am (UTC)That's okay. Maybe it'll be more fun sober.
[ She's one to think on the bright side. Or at least she tries to most of the time. She can tell Carver's a little uneasy, and it means something that he admits that aloud, even though she has a feeling before he says anything. ]
Then come over here and fuck me.
[ Harley bites her lower lip. Sure, it won't just happen like that--all at once; but they have to start somewhere, so Harley pushes herself to her feet and if Carver approaches, she'll meet him halfway and tangle her fingers in his long hair before pressing her mouth to his. It's slow at first, but fiery. Less tenderness and more ferocity. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-27 12:56 am (UTC)It's been a while, aside from a few drugged moments here, but he's not bad at kissing. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-27 02:16 am (UTC)She stumbles backward a little, one hand slipping free of his hair to feel behind her for the edge of the cot so she's not jarred by its sudden appearance behind her legs. When she reaches it, she sits and urges Carver along with her, taking one of his hands and pressing it to the curve of her breast, even though they're both fully dressed. She'll take her time with this and feel out what he reacts well to. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-27 03:05 am (UTC)He drags his free hand over her ribs and then curls it around her hip. Good, steady pressure. Not enough to bruise—he’s good at that part, remembering the rules. And she kisses him back harder so he does as well, dragging his teeth against her lip.
It’s okay, he thinks. Maybe. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-27 03:24 am (UTC)She arches her tight body into his touch as his hand trails down her ribcage to settle at her hip. He squeezes, but she notes that it's not a crushing grip. Firm, but not enough to leave a mark the next day. She smiles against his lips and then brings another hand up, cupping his face as she kisses him more intensely. She moans into his mouth, the sound vibrating between their lips when he drags his teeth over her flesh, letting him know precisely how she feels about that. If he needs reactions to guide him, she can do that. Not that she can help it most of the time. She's actually being a bit more subdued than normal. Harley is anything but quiet in bed, but something about Carver tells her to take it easy and test his limits rather than doing exactly what she's used to.
Her hand drops from his face to his thigh and then her palm is sliding up until she reaches his lap, pressing her palm firmly against his crotch. There are far too many layers in between them and she pulls back from the kiss but only far enough to speak breathlessly. ]
Too much clothing...
[ She's already pulling back to shed her shirt and shimmy out of her jean shorts and suspenders, leaving her in the hot pink sports bra and a pair of panties. Your turn, Carver. Unless you want her taking your clothes off. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-28 02:02 am (UTC)He leans back just enough to unclip his hood, shrug out of his coat and let it fall. He likes layers, armor. Even with the heat back home, he needed that. Pope gave them the closest thing to uniforms and he's held to that in the aftermath. And then he shrugs out of his shirt, because there's really no point in being coy. He takes a moment to watch her, take her in the same way she's taking him in. Under all his layers, Carver knows he's strong. He keeps fighting fit because he has to, and they were eating good at Meridian before all the bullshit went down. Enough rations to go around, no flirting with starvation. But he's got scars too, and she's probably smart enough to know what caused them. A dappling of old, pocked scars from an IED over his belly, a slash from a knife over his collarbone. And, of course, the deeper scar over his heart from the kid's scythe, with his pendant hanging over it.
These things happen.
Carver shrugs, and leans in to kiss her again. Hard, this time. ]
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Date: 2022-09-28 02:45 pm (UTC)Harley can't help but let her hands trace over Carver's exposed torso, noting the texture beneath her fingertips as they slide over the various peaks and valleys of his scars. Scars say a lot about a person's life and, perhaps, in this moment, some of his behaviors begin to make sense to her.
But then his mouth is on her again, hard, and the thoughts flutter from her brain like birds taking flight. Her tongue curls against his and another moan vibrates between their lips as she urges him onto the cot with her. She breaks the kiss reluctantly, breathing hard. ]
How do you want me?
[ What position, she means. There are plenty to choose from, and her mouth curls into a smirk as she adds: ]
I'm very flexible, so don't be shy.
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Date: 2022-09-29 02:02 am (UTC)Then, this place. And now, her.
She doesn't bother being coy, or holding back. She just wants, and reaches for him, and she's breathing hard when she breaks the kiss. Carver cants his head, watching her.
He's breathing a little harder too. Caught up in it, despite himself. He doesn't even care about the mirror anymore. ]
Ride me.
[ He didn't plan this out at the start. Not really. If it just happened, then it wasn't anyone's fault. But this -
This, he wants. ]
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Date: 2022-09-29 04:44 am (UTC)She doubts it, though. She either knows or is pretty certain that everyone she's slept with here has already slept with someone else, and most likely someone else that she also knows. It's just seemed to work out that way. But that isn't what she's focusing on any longer; not with Carver tipping his head just so as she breaks the kiss. She presses a hand to his scarred chest, as if in reassurance, but it's apparent in his words that it isn't needed.
Ride me. The statement comes loud and clear, and Harley would be lying if it didn't send heat spreading through her lower abdomen, into the space between her thighs, and down her legs. She's thrumming with need and his words are speaking promises that her body will hold to him.
Harley grins, pushing Carver back onto the bed, a little less gently than she may have moved before, though she's still trying not to spook him too much. She strips off her underwear easily and then reaches behind her to unclip her bra, tossing it away before she climbs onto the cot, her fingers curling into the waistband of Carver's boxers.
She can sense the shift between need and want, and it's the want piece of it that's egging her on, wanting her to coax out of Carver those primal instincts. She wants to learn what he likes. ]
Like this?
[ Harley feigns innocence, crouching over him as she takes his cock into her hand and strokes him firmly, holding him up and lowering herself just enough to tease the tip with her slick folds. She wants to hear it, Carver. ]
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Date: 2022-09-30 12:19 am (UTC)Mhmm.
[ He doesn't jump the gun as she teases him, just reaches up to cup a hand to the back of her neck and the other to her breast, squeezing. Holding her close as she decides what she's going to do, how long she's going to drag it out. He holds, his eyes bright - and utterly focused on her. ]
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Date: 2022-09-30 02:55 am (UTC)She likes the way his fingers curl around the back of her neck and her back arches, pressing her chest forward as he kneads one of her breasts, the nipple already hard and taut, a testament to her arousal. She's teasing herself as much as she is him, and another moan leaves her lips as she presses the tip of him against her clit, using him to pleasure herself for a few tense moments before she can't wait any longer.
Thighs quivering, Harley holds him in position and sinks down onto his length, finally allowing him to fill that emptiness that had become almost too much to bear. Her muscles twitch around the intrusion, but it is most welcome. She throws her head back, a smile on her face as she lets out a pleased sound, letting herself adjust around him before she presses her palms to his firm chest and starts to move, steadily, but at a slower pace at first, tipping her head towards to look down at him. ]
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Date: 2022-09-30 01:16 pm (UTC)Fuck.
[ He kneads her breast again, running his free hand along the planes of her back. She’s strong, and solid, and that feels better than he thought it ever could. It’s simple and so little is in this place. There are no drugs, but he wants her. The honesty of it nearly floors him and he hisses out another wordless curse as he jerks his hips up, matching her rhythm. ]
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Date: 2022-09-30 07:35 pm (UTC)Her blunt nails bite a little at Carver's skin and she pulls one hand off of his chest to slide up her own ribcage, grabbing the breast that Carver isn't paying attention to and giving it a squeeze, moaning as she puts on a little show for him. With only one hand balancing her, her thigh and core muscles engaging to compensate. She sighs as she starts bouncing herself harder onto his lap, the sound of their bodies meeting slickly filling the air around them. ]
Oh, fuck...
[ She breathes the curse, grimacing in pleasure as Carver presses up into her, matching her pace. Her other hand leaves his chest too and then her legs are doing all the work as her hand slides on top of his where it rests on her breast, squeezing on top of it, just wanting to feel some closeness--some connection. ]
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Date: 2022-10-01 10:53 pm (UTC)Goddamn.
He works her breast as they move together, pressing his thumb against her nipple and working it stiff. It's been a while since he's done this sober, or done this with someone he chose, but turns out it come back quick. Turns out it comes back just fine. ]
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Date: 2022-10-02 03:49 am (UTC)Harley presses into Carver's touch, breath hitching as her nipple comes to a hardened peak beneath the pad of his thumb. It does; it comes back just perfect. Harley feels herself getting closer, but she drops her hips, her full weight resting on Carver as he's pressed into her as deeply as is physically possible. She rocks, not pulling herself up at all, just feeling him inside of her, letting the threat of orgasm pass as her muscles twitch around him. Harley still moves, but only shifting him within her and not providing and 'in and out' motion. Once the sensation passes, though, she flexes her thighs and starts bouncing in his lap again, this time with more desperation behind her movements. ]
Fuck, that feels good. You feel good.
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Date: 2022-10-02 11:18 pm (UTC)Riley was like that, he thinks absently. Always reaching for something real, committing fully. Carver was always the one who held back. Afraid of losing control - ironic, really, when that's all he ever did out in the world. But that's not a good thought for right now and it slips away before it can become something, slips away into nothing and Carver squeezes her breast again before shifting to catch her chin in his hand and pulling her in for a rough kiss.
He's close, is the thing. But he'll hold. He'll hold as long as he can. ]
i'm so sorry this is so late
Date: 2022-10-10 11:43 pm (UTC)She arches her back more sharply to adjust the angle at which their hips are meeting and it causes another moan to be pulled from her. ]
Oh, fuck...I'm almost there...
[ She reaches down to rub at her clit, unashamed of giving him a show, pressing her chest into the hand that's still on her breast. She bounces harder and faster in his lap, gasping at the sensation as everything in her starts to coil and tighten. She's so close she can taste it. Suddenly, her pleasure comes to a sharp peak, and then her muscles clench rhythmically around his cock as she comes. She squirts, too, having forgotten to warn him but it isn't a lot. Enough for him to notice, but not enough for it to become a real inconvenience. She'd masturbated before he came over to release a little tension, so it's less of a feature than it normally would be, though still definitely there. She works through her orgasm, shuddering but keeping her pace strong, wanting him to finish too. She wants him to feel what she's feeling even if she's not entirely sure why. ]
You can come inside me if you want...
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Date: 2022-10-11 05:42 pm (UTC)Carver runs his hands up and down her sides, bracing himself, bracing her, and just lets go. He’s quiet when he comes, muffing the sound against her shoulder. He runs his fingers along her back, tracing out the ridges of ink and scars alike, and just breathes.
For a moment, there are no words. No words at all. ]
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