nysalogs | Something's in the air

Entry tags:

Something's in the air

Who: Jessica Jones (

assholic) & OPEN
What: Catch-all log for February
When: All of February
Where: Mostly in Wyver, (home, arena, bars). Occasionally in Olympia due to deliveries. Up on Thesa Station visiting Trish.
Warning(s): Language. Very likely NSFW content in Clark/Jessica thread.

February. One of her least favorite months. She'd always hated how the marketing squad always made any woman not in a relationship feel like a failure. She preferred to stay single that time of year out of spite more than anything. And she was doing it again this year.

Sort of.

Maybe.

Whatever. It was close enough.

She noticed there were new faces that didn't belong to natives around, and that had her slipping up to the Station to see if maybe someone blonde and very much wanted had woken. Maybe it was a stupid hope, but she hated knowing that Trish was there but not really there. That she wasn't in control of herself, something she knew her friend would hate. She wound up being disappointed, again, staring at her face through the clear window, feeling that sick feeling in the pit of her stomach at how close to dead she looked. She just didn't trust the people that brought them here. Jessica didn't trust many people, and one of the few she did was cut off from her right now and it made her... edgy.

Tensions were rising between the cities, and she was finding it more and more difficult when she had to run errands between them. Her new-fangled ability to fly was coming in handy, helping her get over city walls past hours and making travel a little easier, but she was still looked at with sideways glances and dirty looks whenever she had to pop into Olympia. Funnily enough, she was used to that, and it just rolled off her back. But she didn't like that she didn't fully know why there was this us vs them mentality going on between the cities. She also didn't like that it looked like the people brought here by the Orbiters were going to be shoved into it, whether they wanted to be or not. Frankly, she was sick of having other people's shit rained down on her, but it looks like even with her world being destroyed, that part of her life wasn't over yet.

Great.

[ooc: Jessica can be found in/around Wyver, in/around Olympia during deliveries, and occasionally on Thesa Station checking in on Trish. Feel free to start your own prompt, or msg/pp me for something I can put up for you @junglewere on plurk.]

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"Yeah? You plan on doing anything about it, towel boy?" She shifted a bit on his lap, arching forward enough that her breasts pressed against his chest through her shirt, letting out a little sigh of enjoyment at that. What could she say? She loved to get him riled up.

"I was..." he starts, frowning a little before he glances up, "going to ask you nicely if you wouldn't mind me helping you off with some of them."

There's a glance around the living room.

"And if we wanted to go to one of our rooms."

"You expecting company?" She ducked her head, licking up the line of his throat before nibbling at where his jaw met the edge of his neck, nails not quite digging into him as she shifted a little more. "I wouldn't mind losing a few layers."

His hands move to slide under her shirt, stroking her skin with obvious appreciation, fingertips edging along the underside of her bra.

"We'd have more room, is all."

"More room, huh? You sure you just don't like having me in your bed?" Because she was starting to think that was the case. Not only did he seem to like them winding up in bed, but he seemed to prefer when she stayed with him. When she fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and soft breaths and woke up wrapped up in that velvet steel embrace.

"I'd be more than willing to try your bed out." His head tilts just a little. "But I don't like inviting someone to their own room. Seems rude."

He leans up to peck a kiss.

"And I wasn't sure if you'd want me to stick around."

And, like she'd noted, he liked sticking around.

"What about now, Kent? What do you think I want now?" She hummed against his lips, her fingers dancing down to tug at the bit of towel around his waist, smiling as she thought about just what direction their night was heading and liking that thought, very much so.

"Clearly," he says with a lift of his head, "you'd like a quiet evening in darning socks while I do some cleaning."

...is he looking at her with the most innocent expression on his face? Yes, he is. Is he full of shit? Yes, yes he is.

"Mm," she purred as she drew his earlobe into her mouth, nibbling at it and letting it drag free before she sat up. With a smile reserved just for him, she pushed up and started to float backwards. "Look at that. You must be psychic. That's exactly what I'd like to do. I'll go get my socks."

Like she had a fucking clue how to darn socks, or what darning even was. But she gave him a sweet smile that couldn't melt butter and drifted further back.

"The socks are in your bedroom, I'm guessing?" he ventures, floating right behind her, grinning just a little. "Somewhere near your bed, right?"

Floating and flirting... who would have thought? If only Trish could see her now. She quirked a brow at him, pulling on the hem of her shirt. "Mm, maybe. Likely on the floor. I'm not the clean freak some people are."

There are times when that word could hurt him. Easily, in fact. But right now, with Jessica, is not one of those times.

"There's nothing 'freakish' about having a sock drawer."

And he's not going to argue further because instead, he's floating forward to kiss her.

"Says the guy who makes his bed every day. Which is ridiculous, since it's just going to get messed up agai-- mmf." So maybe talking didn't need to happen when his lips were on hers instead. He had nice lips. Firm and soft and they always seemed to make her tingle right down to her toes.

He'll just... steer them towards the bedroom while they're kissing. He's got a decent amount of experience 'driving' when he's distracted. Though this is the first time when he wasn't also lifting up the other person. Eventually, roughly as they float through the door to said room-

"You like that I make the bed. And you like that I have a sock drawer."

Her hand slid down to that persistent towel, tugging at it to get it to fall off, arms going around his shoulders as they floated over towards her bed. "Maybe I do. But that kind of goes with the whole liking you territory."

"And you like ruffling the bed. And tossing your socks wherever you like."

And he's going to be kissing her now as he starts working on her clothing, because she really is wearing too many clothes. His hands will skim under a time or two before starting to push them off, slow and careful.

It's the careful part that always undoes her. He treats her like she's something fragile, and there's a part of her, way deep down, that is. It wakes up every time she's with him, and it makes her feel oddly vulnerable. She draws her shirt off over her head, letting it fall as her hands splay over his chest, roaming over him. "I do kinda like making a mess of the bed."

Precious. She's precious to him, deserving of deliberation and consideration. She might be able to handle anything, even most of what he could do, but she doesn't deserve anything less than the utmost care.

For the moment, his hands are resting on her sides, holding her as she gropes him happily.

"I can't say I've ever found the experience to be anything less than fantastic."

He's worth a touch or two. Worth being appreciated. Sighing happily, she leans in and brushes her lips over the top of his chest, tongue flicking out to taste him, arms sliding up to wrap around his shoulders. "Like you'd say anything if you did. God forbid you hurt a stray feeling."

"I've done it before. I probably will again. No one's perfect, after all."

Because he can't interact with the idea of hurting her in any other way than utterly earnest. But he doesn't let it dampen the mood, dipping down and leaning in to pull her into a heated kiss.

"Bullshit," she murmurs against his lips. If there was anyone in any world that could be called perfect, she bet it was Clark.

Of course, then he had to go and kiss her and fry her damn circuits. The man had the ability to make her toes curl, and it was probably for the best they were both still floating, because she was too busy trying to wind herself around him to pay attention to much else.

He wraps around her in turn, giving her a squeeze before nuzzling in with deep affection and a soft, sweet sigh of 'Jess', as if he has to remind himself how lucky he is, how thankful he is to have her right this moment, how overcome by the emotions in his heart and all he feels about her beyond just the lust of it.

She draws back to look at him, just to look at him. Because she can't not look at him. Her hand comes up to his cheek, fingers drawing along the edge of that defined jawline, tracing down to his chin. Meeting his eyes with hers, she sees that little speck of brown, that bit of stone in the sky blue of his eyes, and she kisses him. "Clark..." Her voice is soft, a little shaky as she thinks about today. About yesterday. About all the days here with him and how it'd be something entirely different if he wasn't here. "M..."

She had to pause, take a deeper breath and steel herself to get it out. "Make love to me."

His eyes go a touch wide as she speaks, not from mockery or confusion. From happy surprise. Then, nodding gently, he leans in to press another kiss.

Quietly, so quietly-

"That's what I've been doing all along, Jess."

Her hand slid into his hair, her lips spreading into a smile. "Shut up," she said, chiding, knowing that fine, maybe she'd gotten on that train a little behind him, but she was there now. Loving seemed easy for him, but for her... it was just too easy to get hurt when you opened yourself up like that. She'd fought so hard to keep that shield up with everyone.

Then there was Clark. Who the hell could fight against him?

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Something's in the air

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