Harley Quinn (
totalwildcard) wrote2024-05-24 01:33 pm
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Apartment Above Needful Things; Later Friday
It was not as dusty in the upstairs apartment as it had been the last time Marc had been up there. Like, sure, it was still dusty in places because Harley and her attention span had prioritized the spots that she actually used on a daily basis, but still! The living room slash kitchen space that they entered into from the stairs was actually looking lived in now, with stuff like cereal packages and coffee on the kitchen counters and some empty takeaway cartons littering the coffee table Harley had hauled up from the store.
Hey, the narrative had said it wasn't that dusty anymore, not anything about there being no mess. It wasn't too bad, anyway, there was just a little bit of clutter!
So far.
Whatever, Harley had put some personal touches in. Some eclectic decor pieces around the place, a pop art style painting on one of the walls, that sorta thing. (And a taxidermy beaver in a tutu on the counter, but Beaver wasn't decor.)
"Well, here we are!" Harley announced. "I promise this place isn't as much of a sneezing hazard anymore."
(for that guy, continued from here! NSFW)
Hey, the narrative had said it wasn't that dusty anymore, not anything about there being no mess. It wasn't too bad, anyway, there was just a little bit of clutter!
So far.
Whatever, Harley had put some personal touches in. Some eclectic decor pieces around the place, a pop art style painting on one of the walls, that sorta thing. (And a taxidermy beaver in a tutu on the counter, but Beaver wasn't decor.)
"Well, here we are!" Harley announced. "I promise this place isn't as much of a sneezing hazard anymore."
(for that guy, continued from here! NSFW)
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Oh well, maybe she could convey something cheerfully smug in the way she kissed him back. The mirrored fervor was certainly communicating a thing or two about how much she appreciated having hands on her.
... Oh right, hands. Scratching at the back of his neck seemed to have worked downstairs. Doing it again right now definitely counted as good communication.
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Also that yes, he was unmistakably enjoying himself.
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Her enjoyment was not so... physically obvious for him (yet), but it was definitely there and happening.
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Which was all the warning she was going to get that he was carrying her over to her bed now.
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The door into the bedroom was conveniently both close by and open, and the big bed within still unmade from the previous night's sleep.
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Bed first though. Which luckily wasn't far and he knew where to go, because he felt no need to stop kissing her on the way. Not when her clinging to him was rapidly becoming one of his favorite sensations.
Once they were at the bed Marc immediately tipped them both over so that Harley's back was on the mattress and Marc was right on top of her.
And no, he hadn't changed the way he was holding her yet. He liked where his hands were just fine.
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Harley chuckled low in her throat as he tipped them onto the bed, and gave his bottom lip a few teasing bites, while her legs settled around him with less of a mind on how to hold on to him, and more just... what felt nice.
It wasn't any less tight, though. She had muscles, too!
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Which was likely even better.
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Which was why even though he had plenty of thoughts of amping things up to that mack tuck level she mentioned earlier - and that was by no means being ruled out for later - right now Marc was going to take his time.
And if that meant lingering over things he was trying to make sure he was getting nothing but hot and greedy reactions - well that was not exactly a hardship.
He'd also make sure to give feedback of his own. Like biting at her lips in response to her fingernails. And lifting her up into him again, this time harder but also much slower so she could really feel that friction.
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"Aw, fuck," she sighed, inanely, right before pouring some more of a similar sentiment into kissing him. He could be like this and he'd tried to keep it from her?
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He gave her mouth a light bite, moving into her again, just as slow but with more of an arc right when he was hitting the sweet spot, giving her more than a simple back and forth.
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And Harley loved that, even as it was slowly making her more restless underneath him. A little more squirmy.
Her fingertips found their way just barely under the collar of his shirt, finding more skin to scratch at.
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Something about seeing her enjoy herself and get worked up like this was really doing it for him though. So, with an impulse he hoped wouldn't backfire on him, he murmured, "Lemme take care of you" while lingering as he was rocked up against her, making it clear he didn't mean take care as an offer to do her taxes.
Harley was the kind of gal who could go a few rounds, right?
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But did he know how many times over the course of Harley's life people had offered to take care of her, in any context? Even to do her taxes? And sounding like they actually wanted to and planned to? Not many.
So even in the middle of all of this, Harley felt a sudden lump in her throat. And then managed to both kiss him feverishly and nod several times, because yes. Yes, please.
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(Not that he wasn't enjoying himself. Little bit painfully so. But nothing he couldn't handle. Especially when watching her like this was its own reward.)
Marc needed to move for what he had in mind. But before he did he said, "Not going anywhere, promise" to hopefully ease any anxiety she might feel when he shifted the two of them on the bed. He took advantage of that unmade blanket to give her something to rest her hips on, while he moved mover, lying down on his right side, flush up against her left. He kept his left leg between hers, rocking again to show that friction wasn't going away.
With one of his hands now free, he moved it slowly up her body. A long caress up her side to ultimately brush his fingers against her neck as they kissed.
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And with one of those little noises for the friction, so welcome.
And yeah, maybe she shivered a little, feeling his hand traveling up her body, sue her. Apparently that was one of the many reactions he could stir up in her.
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He moved his hand up to caress her jawline with his thumb. Then he took his time about bringing his hand back down again, going over her neck, her collarbone, her side. Then he brought it up to circle around her breast. Not touching yet, and very deliberately over her clothes, but applying a little pressure to see how that worked for her and if she wanted more.
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Still on top of the shirt, though, which was a decision she was immediately questioning. But they had time! Time in which she could now apply a little bit of pressure on his hand to let him know he was free to get as familiar with her chest as he already had with her backside, earlier.
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If Harley indicated she wanted her clothes not to be in the way, Marc would happily accommodate though. It wasn't like he didn't want to see her. He was letting her set the pace there was all. And if she wasn't ready for that yet, he could do this whole thing without removing a stitch of her clothing. It was no problem either way.
As for getting familiar, Marc appreciated that offer. He was definitely not limited to one location as far as all the parts of her he wanted to get a literal intimate understanding of. He kneaded her breast, matching the pressure of her hand on his, and brushed his thumb over her nipple to see how that worked for her.
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So yeah, it worked.
Harley gave his hand another squeeze, and then hers slid away. She needed it elsewhere: namely, for sliding onto the leg he had between hers. Not to stop him from doing what he was doing, but rather to make it more of a... mutual effort.
Meaning that gripping his thigh gave her an anchor for grinding against it every time he moved, hips canting upward to meet it yet more firmly.
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As far as her movements went, Marc was happy to help. He took his cue from her grip, applying more pressure of his own and moving his hips to help add extra sensation every time she rocked against him.
And, since she seemed to be enjoying herself, Marc took that as a cue to bend down and start mouthing over her left breast. Just enough that she could feel the heat of his breath through her clothes.
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'Cause the heat was working damn near as well as his thumb and finger were.
And then of course there was the grinding that she was just... really giving her all, now, to some great effect. She seemed to find a particularly good motion, angle, something, just then, judging by the whimpery moan that escaped her.
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Elsewhere, though - well there was that nice chest of hers. So he applied more pressure with his fingers and hand, and then added in his tongue along with that warm breath she was enjoying. Doing his best to add more nice sensations with everything else she was feeling.
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Besides, there was something to be said for the sensation of the two layers of fabric between his mouth and her skin slowly dampening. She wondered idly whether he could or would be feeling something similar against his thigh. The heat of her, at the very least.
Which, yeah, she'd found her groove with, and it was rapidly taking up every bit of focus she had. Just the repetition of rocking, pressure, pleasure coaxing her right out of thinking about anything at all except riding his thigh right to orgasm.
And if the way she was panting and getting more noisy moment by moment were any indications... It wasn't that far off, either.
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