[ Harley grins as she feels Carver's hands firm and steady on her hips, grounding her in the moment. It's just her and him right now and thoughts of prison and everything else around them simply falls away. For once, her scattered brain feels sharp and focused as she hones her attention, concentrating on her movements and the way that Carver's hips are bucking up against hers to match her movements.
Back home she may have been more careful, but the worry of STDs and pregnancy apparently aren't a thing around here. Something about everyone being tested upon intake, and birth control being administered somehow. In thr food, she guesses, though she supposes it could happen any number of ways with the presence of alien technology.
Harley shivers when Carver's hands wander her sides and she feels his movements becoming more erratic until he finally lets go. She moans enough for the both of them, tipping her head back as she feels him come undone beneath her. It feels organic, not at all embodying the awkwardness that hung in the air when he'd first arrived at her shipping container. The way he traces over her scars and tattoos feels good and the relative silence feels welcomed.
Normally she has a hard time keeping her mouth shut for any length of time, but she has no witty remarks for what's happening here. She has nothing to say other than to moan softly and let him know that she's feeling as good as he is. Her hips slow to a lazy grinding before she comes to a stop, catching her breath and tracing a scar on Carver's chest with the pad of her finger. Words escape her, for once. ]
[ It slows. It steadies, moment by moment, and Carver gets his breath back. He rests his head against her shoulder just to steady himself, running his fingers along her back. Finding and tracing tattoos in an absent sort of way, wondering vaguely whether they mean anything or if she just liked the shape of them. Wondering how she earned her scars. Some of them echo his own, a familiar toll of violence, and he wonders about that too. Her life and the shape it took before she ended up here, all the things he hasn't had a chance to ask or even wonder at.
She's strange. An enigma, in many ways. But she feels good right now and he likes how she feels on top of him, how she traces out the shape of a scar on his chest.
These things happen.
He squeezes her hip briefly, a fond gesture he wouldn't have made except for the endorphins, and lifts his head to watch her. She's relaxed now. They both are. And he feels settled in a way he very rarely does these days. ]
[ Harley's breaths slow and even out and she lets out a breathy laugh. Not one of jest, but of...happiness? She feels good and she feels no shame in showing it. Her grinding slows to a shuddering halt and then she just sits there on top of Carver for a few moments, absorbing everything that just happened. She doesn't feel weird about it, even now, as the lustful cobwebs clear from her brain and as everything becomes apparent again.
It somehow doesn't quite feel like the business transaction it had initially felt like. She can't deny that she feels some kind of connection, here. That maybe she's managed to peel back some of the protective, papery layers of the onion that is Carver. Of course, that could all be her own perception without any tinge of truth to it.
She stops tracing over one of the scars on his chest and plants both her palms on him for leverage so she can raise her hips enough for him to slip out of her, but she doesn't go far, instead curling on her side beside him on the small cot. He doesn't seem like much of a cuddler, but a girl can try... ]
[ He puts a hand on her hip almost without thinking about, rubbing vaguely. It feels like the thing to do, even if he doesn't move to lie down next to her. He can't do that, can't let his guard down more than he already has. But for a moment, he just exhales and leaves his hand on her hip. Just for a moment.
[ Harley smiles at Carver's hand on her hip. It's more than she could have asked for, even curled up at his side. She pats his bare chest once, but the touch lingers warmly at the center of it before her hand falls away. ]
Then go; it's okay.
[ Even though she knows or thinks he doesn't need that reassurance. Perhaps he does. But even if he did, she's sure he wouldn't show it. Not yet. And msybe not to her. Maybe someday once more trust is built between them. It's hard to tell the could haves and would haves and mights now, where everything is new and uncertain. ]
Have a good rest of your day, Carver.
[ She smiles, fingers wiggling as she bids him goodbye, a flirty smile flashing on her face. ]
[ He watches her for a moment, giving her hip a final squeeze, and then reaches for his clothes. It was a business transaction, to start. He's not certain what it is now, if anything. A moment, certainly. But she has a nice smile and she's relaxed, seemingly content and with no reason to be wary of him.
That's nice. It won't last, but it's nice. So it goes. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2022-10-12 06:16 pm (UTC)Back home she may have been more careful, but the worry of STDs and pregnancy apparently aren't a thing around here. Something about everyone being tested upon intake, and birth control being administered somehow. In thr food, she guesses, though she supposes it could happen any number of ways with the presence of alien technology.
Harley shivers when Carver's hands wander her sides and she feels his movements becoming more erratic until he finally lets go. She moans enough for the both of them, tipping her head back as she feels him come undone beneath her. It feels organic, not at all embodying the awkwardness that hung in the air when he'd first arrived at her shipping container. The way he traces over her scars and tattoos feels good and the relative silence feels welcomed.
Normally she has a hard time keeping her mouth shut for any length of time, but she has no witty remarks for what's happening here. She has nothing to say other than to moan softly and let him know that she's feeling as good as he is. Her hips slow to a lazy grinding before she comes to a stop, catching her breath and tracing a scar on Carver's chest with the pad of her finger. Words escape her, for once. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-10-13 12:15 am (UTC)She's strange. An enigma, in many ways. But she feels good right now and he likes how she feels on top of him, how she traces out the shape of a scar on his chest.
These things happen.
He squeezes her hip briefly, a fond gesture he wouldn't have made except for the endorphins, and lifts his head to watch her. She's relaxed now. They both are. And he feels settled in a way he very rarely does these days. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-10-19 09:47 pm (UTC)It somehow doesn't quite feel like the business transaction it had initially felt like. She can't deny that she feels some kind of connection, here. That maybe she's managed to peel back some of the protective, papery layers of the onion that is Carver. Of course, that could all be her own perception without any tinge of truth to it.
She stops tracing over one of the scars on his chest and plants both her palms on him for leverage so she can raise her hips enough for him to slip out of her, but she doesn't go far, instead curling on her side beside him on the small cot. He doesn't seem like much of a cuddler, but a girl can try... ]
no subject
Date: 2022-10-19 11:05 pm (UTC)Just for a moment, as the adrenaline fades.
It felt good. They didn't hurt each other.
Then he shakes himself. ]
I need to go.
no subject
Date: 2022-10-20 04:09 am (UTC)Then go; it's okay.
[ Even though she knows or thinks he doesn't need that reassurance. Perhaps he does. But even if he did, she's sure he wouldn't show it. Not yet. And msybe not to her. Maybe someday once more trust is built between them. It's hard to tell the could haves and would haves and mights now, where everything is new and uncertain. ]
Have a good rest of your day, Carver.
[ She smiles, fingers wiggling as she bids him goodbye, a flirty smile flashing on her face. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-10-20 12:16 pm (UTC)That's nice. It won't last, but it's nice. So it goes. ]