[ she doesn't wait with bated breath for his answer, but she knows they're both dealing from different decks here when it comes to tackling the supernatural; she'd made as much plain from the first moment they'd met, trying to leverage her track record in this sphere as further motivation for him to trust her at the beginning of it all, and even if his experience doesn't lie as frequently in the realm of weird that hers does, he's seen enough now to have more of an understanding of what she'd had to face back home, why she doesn't necessarily balk at the concept of magically tainted chocolate or spontaneous bear transformation.
and perhaps, by filling in more of those blank spaces on her backstory, he gets her more, even if she's still stopping shy of telling him everything. there are some pieces of her life that don't even have much to do with the curse, but they've defined her as much as it has. maybe even more. but those aren't stories she wants to share while they're curled up together in her bed, while she's listening to him for once instead of spilling further.
her head tips into the path his hand takes across the side of her neck, along her jaw, and when he glances away from her it's only for a few seconds, not long enough for her to second-guess sharing anything because he's already returning to her with the assurance that it doesn't change what's transpired, the seismic shift that's occurred in the waning hours of the evening, the diverging of their relationship onto a new path entirely. the relief that floods over her is palpable, and she ducks her chin down to bite back a grin, silently impressed at his ability to make her stomach perform somersaults without any kind of warning whatsoever.
but when she inevitably brings her face to his again, her fingers curve a loose hold around his wrist, thumb nudging to his pulse, and the steadiness of it centers her too, lips pressing together like she's mulling over what she can even say in response to that. ]
You're something else, Frank Castle. [ soft, a little marveling, and she shakes her head in mild disbelief while she settles into him, not in search of yet another round but not ignoring that impulse to show him her gratitude by closing more of that distance. ] You know that?
[ he's hardly in any position to cast judgment for the circumstances of her life outside of this town, especially in the scenario in which she'd been tossed into something that's entirely beyond her control. he imagines that it might not be the book end to whatever he story really is, especially in the case of whatever this "curse" really happens to entail, or why it's actually there to begin with, but he isn't pursuing more details, letting her exchange those few at a time for as long as she feels comfortable to do it.
when he'd warned her about himself, about the things he'd done, how they might change the way she looked at him, she'd told him that none of it mattered, not when she'd already made her own determination about what kind of man he is based on what she'd seen with her own eyes. she'd assured him that whatever it was he was still keeping close to the vest (literally so) didn't need to be shared if he wasn't ready to drag out that truth β and he still isn't, knowing the weight his scars really carry, and what it might mean for them, for whatever this is if he were bring out his past into this space they've created for themselves.
it's little to do with trust β he holds more trust for her than he'd have ever guessed during those complicated first meetings of theirs β and more to do with preservation, with savoring these minutes, these hours, while they can let it last. ]
Yeah, you got that right. [ he mutters with a playful tone, a soft chuckling that does prompt a parallel ducking of his head in rhythm with her own, one that's short-lived before he finds himself peering back at her, too hypnotized by the softness in her eyes to glance away for too long.
his wrist held by hers, he doesn't draw it away, even if he does drag his fingers lip slightly, allowing his thumb to reach over her lip, a soft caress running horizontally across before he presses a light kiss, chaste but still tender, his voice rumbling a low whisper. ] But nothing quite like you, Wynonna Earp.
[ she says it because she doesn't know where he'd come from, how he'd so effectively pulled down her defenses and made her want to know him β and even now, she's assured by their willingness to fall back on lightly teasing words in tandem with this new understanding, admissions that hold more weight to them. she's still not sure what to call this now, or even if that conversation is ever going to transpire so long as they're both here, but until one or both of them depart this place maybe they can reside contentedly in knowing that, for the time being, they're both a little less alone.
she hasn't given up all of her ghosts, hasn't asked him to share those weights alongside her, to shoulder those burdens once he becomes aware of them, and she's not about to demand that of him either. she'd said as much to him before, when the pollen had infiltrated her senses and made her more susceptible to this, to the wanting of it (whatever you want to tell me, or don't, it's β that's okay), and without that in the air around them now she's finding she feels the same way about whatever secrets he chooses to divulge. something tells her he doesn't want her to bear those responsibilities either, that pain that occasionally lingers in the set of his shoulders, in how he sometimes hesitates before giving her an answer.
but for all that they're still keeping locked away, there's enough they've shared with each other tonight to carry her through β into the rest of this day, and maybe longer than that. she's never really allowed herself to think about the future in those terms, and the more time that passes while she's in his arms, the more she starts to want to.
she turns her mouth to his, a small pressing kiss, and nudges their foreheads together in the aftermath, harboring a smile with eyes closed for those few beats β and then she tucks herself into him, head resting beneath his chin, her cheek turned along his warmth. ] You were wrong, you know. First time we met, you said I wasn't gonna like you very much. [ her head tips back to his shoulder so she can glance up at him, as her voice drops to a bare whisper. ] You were wrong.
[ as she curves her body into him, he welcomes that invasion of warmth, the press of her nudging skin on skin that should bring some discomfort in the warmer weather rising from the season but hardly bothers him in the slightest. instead, he merely scoops her hair beneath his fingertips to drag all the strands back from her shoulders, letting it all fall against his hand and the pillow, as his opposite palm brushes over the lower smooth skin at her back.
he doesn't recall the memory at first, trying to pick apart the exact moment before it stitches together slow, the literal lack of a visual making it difficult at first to paint the scene. but he does remember that day, sitting across from her with all of his reluctance, forcing her to put in a majority of the effort towards actually working together to get out of their share predicament. ]
Yeah? [ he asks softly in return when he finds her eyes, mostly because he doesn't have a precise response for it.
there still hasn't been enough uncovered, in his opinion, for her to really cast that judgement. the endless blood on his eyes, the faults that led to his train of losses β he knows the stain they leave on him, how that discovery has always changed the way he's been perceived by other eyes (frank castle, he's a lot scarier than pete), and even if he'd shared the truth of his name, it wasn't enough to unevil the truth of his guilt, of the monster he is. she might not still like him once she finds out who he really is β or maybe he's more worried that she'll know it all and still like him anyway.
he falls quiet briefly, a slight gnawing at his lip as he peers off into a distant corner of the room where light from the window flutters casually. ] I, uh β I had my hand on the button. Back then, right when that buzzer went off, I was ready to push it for you.
Yeah. [ she doesn't know what had called that memory back to the forefront of her consciousness now, of all times, as she settles in against his chest, shifting her weight down the side of his body until she can pillow her head on top of him, and she sighs out as his fingers sweep her hair back, the tips light against her nape and provoking a rise of goosebumps in their wake. she drapes one arm across his middle and traces the shape of his ribs, watching how they expand and contract with his even breathing.
but mentioning it allows her to reflect on the chaos they'd been plopped down right in the center of, without their sight and no easily discernable way to get it back, and she smiles to recall it now, the way she'd had to basically lay out her reasons for why she, of all people, was most qualified to help him in that situation, only the conversation had soon shifted to all the trademark talking points of what could probably be described as a blind date, albeit more literal in its meaning. they'd exchanged seemingly inconsequential information, subjects like favorite movies and colors, and toward the end she remembers her hand drifting toward the center of the table to feel out the edge of her button, stopping just short of actually hitting it before their time had run out.
she's not looking at him when he speaks again, but she feels the vibration of his voice under a cheek that tenses with a smile, slightly incredulous, as if he'd managed to subconsciously pick up on what she was thinking about before saying it out loud on his end. she'll even go as far as to laugh, softly, another exhaled sound as she turns her face into his skin, a brief nudge of her nose, and then it's her turn to speak up. ]
I almost pushed mine. [ her voice stays quiet, though, reflective, fingers still moving idly along his side. ] Though I think I managed to push enough of your buttons after that to make up for not doing it the first time, right? [ and just because he's staying here with her now, as the sun slowly comes up, doesn't mean he's not at risk for her doing it again sometime in the near future. she knows what those eyerolls spell, frank. ] You know, you never did tell me what your idea of the perfect date is. Still too advanced for me?
Did you? [ he barks out a small laugh, a rumble in his belly that vibrates softly against her with the irony of her response. he'd been so persistent then about the whole thing not working, so convinced there was no realistic way of developing genuine interest for one another under those circumstances β especially when a personality like his can often leave a bad taste in people's mouths, already convinced of her judgement long before she even had the chance to conjure it. there's a brief wonder as to whether things would have actually changed if they had clicked on those buttons then, if catching each other's eyes much earlier would have changed the track of their relationship at all. he wonders, albeit briefly because ultimately, it doesn't matter. he can't imagine it would have gone any better than this. ]
I didn't, did I? [ he'd forgotten about that too, the question too complicated then for him to answer without springing up some handwaved lie, which he'd voted against. but he hadn't taken her actual curiosity seriously either, though he knows when the question springs up now, it's with more genuine intrigue for an answer.
he doesn't respond immediately, letting his back simply sink into the mattress as he rolls more comfortably into it, holding her steady there against him, a set of fingers lazily drifting over her knuckles as they let wander a gentle caress over his skin. ] This. [ he realizes the cliche of the response, but his voice is so quiet, fairly relaxed, that there's nothing teasing in the tone, at all. ] It's just β shit's always been so loud. The things I see, the things I fight. That's kind of become the only thing I know how to do, long as I can remember. Even when I left the war, it just β never stopped, y'know? Like I said before, I don't β I don't know what to do when the silence comes.
[ there's more to it, he knows that. it's already more than he wants to say, but the warmth of her lets the words flow, honest on his tongue. ]
But this, I ... I feel like I'm breathing again. Like I'm remembering how to. And I guess, I just β I can't ask for something more perfect than that. [ his chest tightens, wondering if it's too much, knowing it's too much, but she's left his skin so unveiled, every core of him vulnerable for her taking, and he can't think of how to cover those corners again. so he mutters with a soft shrug, adding with a more casual air, ] That or front row tickets to a Springsteen concert.
[ she can't say for sure if genuine interest had been spurred that evening, driven by the shift of their conversation from random trivia to something closer to the edges of teasing, both of them extending that brand of remark that had prompted several quiet laughs and then, as it turns out, a mutual interest in hitting those buttons after all β which would have given them back their sight and the ability to see each other sooner rather than later. she might not have been completely intrigued by him, but she'd been curious enough to learn more, and eventually their paths had crossed again, her lured into his space by the sound of a familiar voice from the booth at the diner adjacent to her own.
now, she can't imagine those events happening in any other order, but it doesn't make it any less amusing to hear the truth of his side. she'd tossed out the reference to the question she'd posed, the one he'd refused to answer, partly as a joke, her hand maintaining that casual roaming over his side before his hand covers hers. and then he supplies that response he'd left her hanging on before, and her first instinct is to laugh with the misunderstanding that he's just teasing her β before he continues and she falls quiet, stills against him.
she knows she doesn't have any concept of the violence he's seen, whatever his hands have dealt; she's seen what's been inflicted on his body but it's always the wounds that exist beyond skin-deep that are harder to shake. he's told her before about trying to cope, to exist in the silence, true peace a concept that he can't quite embrace β either because he's never been given enough opportunity to try or because he doesn't know how. she hasn't been fighting her battles as long as he has but she gets not knowing who she is without them now, or what kind of person she'll be when, or if, the curse is ended. and she gets feeling like this is the first time, in a long time, that she's been able to shut off the voice in her head trying to tell her she doesn't deserve this.
she eases up to him, working one hand beneath herself to nudge up into hovering over him as he murmurs that last part, one eyebrow quirking as she nods a few times. ] Oh, or that, huh? Well, barring the sudden appearance of the Boss here in Deerington β
[ she bends low to him, hair slipping forward over bare shoulders to grace the sides of her face, and her gaze is warm as it shifts over him, the softness of her sentence dissolving by the time that she kisses him, slow and sure. ] Maybe I can keep giving you that other part.
[ he doesn't know why such a deep core of honesty springs out of him as it does. it still continues to coat multiple truths, vagueness in what exactly his wars entail, how it had carried on long after he'd made his final trip back to the city, only to watch everything continue to crumble around him. there's more to it even still than merely this moment in her bed, the stillness of his alternative work in town, the smaller moments with laura or diarmuid where he's reminded of what it means to care for someone like that again, like a father almost β it's all little pieces that come together to fill the space where the silence lingers, and add a different kind of meaning to what he's known his life to be.
but so many of those moments are consistently filled with her, her laughter, her smile, her scent, the fullness of her in his arms. as he lays here with her, that uncertainty that had lingered before about what this all could mean by the morning seems to dissolve, and what had originally felt like a halt to everything they'd come to have thus far, suddenly merely feels like a beginning to something else.
that shifting knowledge emboldens into something stronger with her answer, the press of the kiss feeling as more of a promise than a mere test. his palm coats her cheek, letting him peer up into her eyes, bright even in the continued partial darkness. ] I'd like that.
[ a promise, he thinks again, and it's nothing to do with the physical lust of it, the intimate entanglement that led him between her legs once, twice, three times; but whatever else comes with it, this comfort they can seek with confidence from one another if only for little spurts at a time whenever chaos erupts around them as this town is prone to providing.
he kisses her again to seal that, a tender caress of lips that assures her of his willingness to dive into whatever this is with her. even if he still fears, at his core, what it might mean when he's ready to let her in fully to the rest of his own demons. ]
[ there's still a lot she hasn't told him β not just about the curse, or how those heirs who it gets passed on to tend to have a pretty early expiration date, or even about those parts of her life beyond it, those aspects she doesn't get to keep safe for herself but are safer away from her. he doesn't know about alice, and she isn't sure what future situation is going to dictate the telling of that story. it isn't for lack of trusting him, but because she doesn't know how to launch into that out of context, or even without the necessary build-up to uncovering that true vulnerability.
someday, he'll get that story. someday, she can tell him all about how the best thing she ever did in her life was to decide to have a daughter, to bring something into the world that will hopefully hold all the good parts of her and none of the worst. she won't get to see that for sure yet, though, not until it's safe enough for her to even know where alice is.
but thoughts of what lies ahead for her are fleeting in the midst of the current moment, in the comfort she's sought here with him, warmth and safety in the hands that traverse her skin and a mouth that finds hers with certainty. she kisses him again, a persisting rhythm, and then once more with a quick peck, and then tucks herself in against him again, stretching out beneath the blankets and finally letting that tiredness sink deep into her limbs, her arm a heavier weight slung across his midsection. ] Me too.
[ she yawns, briefly covering her mouth with the back of her hand, and harbors no worry in closing her eyes, his presence already assured to her at least for a little while longer as her breathing starts to slow. ] Really hope you don't snore, though, because then I'd have to rethink all of this. [ even as sleep begins to tug at her awareness, she chuckles, hugging him to her one last time before succumbing. ]
[ he imagines he might tell her those smaller fragments of himself with time β about maria, lisa, frank jr. β more than those vague answers heβs provided thus far. she deserves to know, and more than that, heβll want her to know; those memories, theyβre as much of himself as anything sheβs already seen, and the only reason heβs who he is now. even if he knows thereβs a chance it might end up being too much, that thereβs too much blood on his hands to be forgiven for, heβd rather she held the whole truth than hold on to this without giving her the chance to make a choice with all the missing parts finally in her grasp.
for now, heβll bask in the hold heβs allowed, his fingers tracing over her naked back to secure his palm at her spine once she nestles closer into his chest, the warmth of her radiating over him. ] No snoring. I just drool a lot in my sleep. Cute image, actually. [ his own chuckle is a predecessor to that exhaustion finally settling in, and as the quiet replaces their banter, he knows sheβs dozed off, cycling through a small stock of thoughts before he finally drifts off as well.
he doesnβt know how long it is before he wakes, but he knows he feels rested. sunlight still flutters in through the curtains in an indication that it either might still be morning or theyβve ventured into the afternoon. he could crane his neck to get a view of the clock on the table, but his body is well curved into her, shuffled onto his side with his arms looped around her and the top of her head still pressed into his collar. somehow even still, he canβt think to move.
instead, he plants a gentle kiss atop her head, tender and lingering, fingertips tracing slow ghost lines across her back. thereβs no intention to wake her, not when heβs hardly ready to fully wake himself, but thereβs a pleasant warmth in his chest in knowing he still has her here like this even after sleep, that itβs all still continued to last even until now. ]
[ she dimly perceives the last bit of his words against her before ultimately slipping under, able to drift into dreaming in spite of the sun's steady rise to stream brighter light through the curtains, that thin, wafting fabric only able to keep out so much of the day from the quiet they find beside each other, her head pillowed on his shoulder and her arm drawn across his stomach, fingers maintaining a small clutch at his far hip. it's the closest she's ever slept next to anyone, save those occasional nights at the homestead after the heater would kick it and she and waves would be forced to curl up tight, spooning each other beneath a cocoon of blankets.
and she doesn't stir, save for the occasional incoherent murmur or shifting that precedes an unconscious nuzzling into him, like she's trying to burrow closer even from the recesses of her awareness. and she doesn't dream of anything, body and mind lulled enough to let her rest peacefully throughout the morning without her stirring. there's no blaring of an alarm to wake her the way it happens normally; instead, she dimly registers a small press against her head and something light, almost ticklish trailing over her spine, gradually tugging her from sleep.
she groans softly, nose scrunching before her eyes open, and she has to take a second to remember the events of the last few hours, remember how she got here and what happened prior to that, why she has warm skin beneath her cheek and her hand pressed firm along someoneβs side, why there's a pleasant looseness in her hips.
slowly, the room swirls into focus, and when she tips her head up to be greeted with the underside of a chin, dark hair coating a formerly shaven jaw, and a pair of dark eyes looking back at her, her smile is immediate, undefended, none of her normal guards coming down when she's still coming out of sleep. she stretches beneath the sheets, tensing briefly against him, and lifts her head to rest her chin on his chest, hair a mussed, wild tangle that streams down her shoulders. ] Morning.
[ he has more than enough time between that scrunch of her nose and the opening of her eyes to slip on a brief smile and let it falter away before it gets sighted. except he doesnβt put forth the effort to let it vanish, to simply fizzle out without notice. the smile remains at the sleepy gesture while he peers down to her partially still-dozing form as she pulls herself together.
fingers lazily brush her shoulders, the tips of them spinning small circles against her skin, still not fully recognizing any proper intention on waking fully. her hair bears a light fuzz, lightly from the vague combing of his traveling hand, running over the strands when heβd been caught in that peculiar in-between of dreaming and waking. ]
Morning. [ he repeats back, though his own tone is coarser, laced with deep rest still in his throat, realizing he might have lingered here even longer than he might be guessing.
still, the rush doesnβt fall over him, content to take these extra seconds, minutes, to slowly get out of that dazed state. because it might just be the result of that continued sleepiness affecting his more conscious decisions, but heβs still finding himself lulled by the position, by the weight of her pressed so warmly against his side and he knows he stands the possibility of getting closer to the acknowledgement of what it means to keep her there.
for now, he wonβt think of it as anything more than what it simply is. ] Sleep alright?
[ she's still blinking sleep from her eyes, most of their surroundings still a blur, but the closest thing to her β him β remains in her full sight and she shifts, stretches along his side again, wondering why it isn't her first instinct to pull away and start looking for her clothes instead. (never mind the fact that everything she'd been wearing last night is still downstairs.)
she'd been able to perceive the weight of him against her throughout the night, somehow sensing that she wasn't fully alone but not seeking to put more space between their bodies. she just doesn't do this, doesn't find a reason to curl up next to anyone for any prolonged amount of time, and she definitely doesn't search for an excuse to stick around in the morning either. if there's anything that she can fall back on here, it's her own selfishness β for not wanting to give up the quiet, the solitude, and honestly, he's going to take all the warmth with him when he leaves. can't have that. ]
Yeah, actually. [ she lets herself verbalize the surprise of it, the unexpectedness; his hand is a steady, constant stroke across her upper back and bare shoulders and she has to repress a sudden shiver as fingertips inadvertently tease that skin, rendered more sensitive when she's still waking up.
but she looks to him then, braces her hand against his chest, beneath her chin, and when she turns the question around on him she realizes she's actually genuinely interested in his answer. ] You?
[ he purses his lips, a gentle press of his mouth as if debating the question before he returns the answer fondly, ] Yeah, actually.
[ the surprise is shared, considering his habit for lack of sleep, for hours he attempts to lie in his bed only for his eyes to remain open for a good portion of the night. even when he finds that eventual doze, it's always interrupted, always filled with those flickers of a carousel, the echoing jabs of laughter that always transform into screeching screams. he's faced it head-on for years, accustomed to the pile of sweat he'll find himself in when he wakes, but it never softens the pain of it.
working at the diner helps, fills those later hours with something to keep his hands busy even if it's scrubbing hard at the tiles when there's a lack of customers. but this β he never found himself threatening to wake, never even had the faint imagery of those old dreams coming to tug at him. they'll return, they always do, but for now, he finds himself laying here in a small portion of peace. ]
Starving, though. [ he gives her back a firmer rub, palm rubbing over his eyes. ] Anything in your kitchen I can scrap together? [ doubtful; he's seen her fridge. had to fix it enough to know its lack of contents. ]
[ she's far too used to the patterns she's slipped into without trying β a shift at the bar either in the early afternoon or the evening, ending up back here with a glass of something dark to help her come down after so many hours on her feet, not so much slipping into sleep as passing out hard and waking up with a fuzzy tongue and bleary eyes. she'd usually either stumble through making coffee by this point or shove a toothbrush in her mouth before jamming on a pair of sunglasses, driving into town to pay someone to make the strong stuff for her, and the cycle would continue after that unless the town found itself besieged by yet another wacky supernatural phenomenon.
he's disrupted her schedule, leaving her with the compulsion to linger, to stretch out lazily in the bed and wake up to something that isn't her alarm β one she hits the snooze button on several times before finally getting up β but she still turns her face away from the sun in favor of glancing over his expression instead, dark eyes tilted downward before he rubs over them.
finally, she sits up, heedless of where the sheet falls to pool around her hips, and attempts another stretch, shoulders rolling before she tilts her head from side-to-side, removing any cricks acquired from sleeping at a certain angle. still, she's looser overall, no tightness in her joints, and she lets her hands fall down into her lap. ]
Why do you think I asked for the fries? [ she flashes him a quick grin; a trip to the mart's definitely on her to-do list, but that doesn't do them any good when his stomach's rumbling now. ]
Jesus Christ. [ his typical signal of annoyance, though it lacks any real sharpness, even if he supplies it with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, one of his arms drifting beneath his head to leave a supporting wrist there as he peers to her.
as she rises, the sheet rolls off of her skin, bare and smooth on display, but in place of any simmering fluster, there's only a flicker of adoration in his eyes, that conscious acknowledgement that she looks damn beautiful in this light, the sun fluttering in faint illuminated stripes across her body. it's a fairly nice way to wake up, dreamlike, he thinks, and his fingers caress faintly at the skin of her naked hip, not hinting at anything intentional, but simply absentmindedly still settling into this lazy morning. ]
How the hell do you even survive out here, Earp? It's farm land, right? Might need to start growing some damn crops. [ though he can't much say he sees her out there tending to fields and growing vegetables. hell, he realizes she doesn't even have a single plant in her house, leaving him to wonder if she can handle a fern in here. ] We're not eating soggy fries.
[ she narrows her eyes at him β a playful gesture that doesn't hold any significant annoyance, at least in response to his muttered remark and certainly not once he stretches out more decisively against the bed, the shift of muscle beneath skin when he lets that arm slip up to pillow behind his head. it's a sight she can't help but appreciate, gaze flickering down the length of him for a few seconds.
this is supposed to be way more awkward than it is right now. she'd fumble through an excuse while hurriedly attempting to retrieve her clothes, attempt some bullshit about calling him later, remain unable to locate her bra and have to go without for her latest walk of shame, wynonna earp edition. but she curves back, studies him down the round of her shoulder, his fingers idle at her hip, subtly leaning into that contact while her brain tries to reboot itself. ]
Mmm. Can you honestly see me up before the sun, going into the barn to milk the cows? [ she scrunches up her nose again, visible distaste at that mental image, and shakes her head with a corresponding sway of wavy hair. ] Look, if I'd known I was going to be feeding more than one person this morning, I would've ducked into Hart on the way home from work instead of my procrastinating norm. [ that's a lie. she probably would've put it off anyway until the last possible minute, when the fridge was down to a jar of one lone pickle and a box of cold, stale pizza from peter's. ]
[ he might only realize now that it might have been a good idea to have snagged his pile of clothes while he was down there, to at least have them at a closer distance even if he hadn't put them all back on just yet. even his phone remains well out of his reach down the stairs, but there still hasn't been much temptation to check it, to see for any missed messages or alerts, content to have to shut away the outer world while he's here. ]
Well, I can definitely see you wrestling some cows. [ he flashes a lazy grin, a low huffing chuckle beneath his breath as he tilts his head with the imagery in his mind. ] Shoving yourself up against them, trying to herd them through a fence. Actually a pretty fun picture.
[ really, this house can barely hold itself together enough to keep her in comfortable living conditions. he can't even imagine what it'd be like to try and sustain actual living animals in the barn as well. he'd definitely be the one working overtime. ]
Y'know, I'm pretty sure you don't have to wait until you're feeding more than one person to considering stocking up something beyond expired yogurt. [ shit, he purses his lip with that comment, suddenly remembering how this all had even began in the first place, when the call had first come in with her random question. ] Not even toast? An egg or something?
[ it's not her first tendency to check her device at this time of day, but she's never really been in a position here where someone would have reason to blow up her phone with texts; that might not necessarily be the case for him, now that he's acquired enough responsibility here in the form of managing a business to merit needing to be within easy reach, but he hasn't made any sudden moves to depart from the bed and she can't bring herself to offer him that reminder either. ]
Getting trampled, you mean? Oh, yeah, definitely, hilarious image there. [ she retrieves a pillow from the edge of the bed and chucks it loosely in the vicinity of his chest, counting on his reflexes being a little slower and inhibiting him from grabbing it before it smacks him.
and she'll finally try to wrest herself free of the bedsheets before he can consider a swift and sound retaliation, swinging her legs over towards the far side and rising up to stand with another full stretch, both arms winding above her head. before she even considers whether or not she has enough in her fridge to sustain them this morning, a shower is definitely taking priority β though she looks back at him again as if gauging whether or not she even needs to say anything to extend that invite, if he'll be able to decipher it solely by the look in her eyes. ]
There might be eggs. [ her mouth quirks to one side while she wracks her brain for that memory β what else had she seen in there when she'd been talking to him before, holding that expired yogurt in one hand? understandably, anything that happened prior to their clothes coming off is a little fuzzy now. ] Why, you work up an appetite or last night or something?
[ the pillow is met with an oof sound blowing from his mouth, not out of any real physical reaction to the hit, the feeling of it bouncing off its skin more ticklish than anything, but simply to dramatize the response all for her benefit. she can take it to be victorious or anything β either is acceptable from his point of view. ]
Way to look down on yourself. I think you can take on a cow just fine. You got that β y'know, that charm. [ which is more of a playful comment, but admittedly, there's truth to it, how she'd once taken his grumpy responses and softened it with her stubborn retalitations, light commentary and tacky jokes somehow steering him in a direction that somehow inevitably landed him here in her bed.
he lifts himself to sit up, arms extended and palms pressing into the mattress to hold him steady as he peers to her, eyes lingering on the full stretch of her. ]
I don't know about that. Think I ate pretty well last night.
[ and there's that signature smirk, one that shifts in a bit more freely this time aorund with that curving of his lips, a soft swiping of his lip with a teasing tongue for a display that's now purposeful, knowing that her eyes are bound to linger there. ]
[ she would've considered it more of a personal triumph if she hadn't figured out he was completely putting it on, his reaction too exaggerated to be sincere, but she'll take advantage of any potential opportunity to try and gain the upper hand, this entire exchange remarkably in line with the familiar dynamic they'd already established prior to last night. ]
Oh, is that what it is? Charm? Not just wearing down the cow's defenses until it had no choice but to give in? [ somehow this bovine subject has become more of a metaphor now as the conversation's gone on, shifting to be less about the literal and closer to a stand-in for the person who continues to make themselves thoroughly comfortable between those sheets.
any plan she had to veer off in the direction of a shower is completely stalled when he licks across his mouth, her gaze drawn to it in spite of herself, in spite of knowing he means to knock her off-center; sense memory fills in the reminder of where that tongue had been only hours before, and damn him for trying to make her squirm like that, heat immediately pooling low between her thighs. ]
You had your fill yet? [ beyond the dirtier innuendo, though, there may be a nudge of deeper questioning in it, an ask in regards to whether he's done with her, too, and she tips her chin down to level their gazes, hope subtly residing in her own eyes. ]
Maybe a little bit of that, too. [ it's definitely tipped β the conversation, not the cow β and it's fairly clear where the metaphor runs, but that doesn't deter him from pouring his continued teases into the banter, even if he's confident that plenty of honesty rings true through it too.
it's the same way that the rest of his teasing commentary is spoken easy, not quite as reserved or left subtle as it once had been. whatever had happened last night had steered them into a far steeper direction, one they both must have known would guarantee that there was no real way of returning to the simpleness they once tried to maintain, back when even the events of the pollen had threatened to push them over the edge. making excuses for that was easier when not all of it could be pinned on their own control, but this β this was entirely in their hands and it was either to be dropped in its entirety or ran with.
his choice is more obvious when he rises even further, lifting on his knees before dragging them across the mattress and the mess of tangled sheets, right up until he gets to the edge, close enough for him to reach out and take her hand. a light enough tug can bring her in closer, just enough for him to press his lips to her, brief but tender. ]
No. [ he says without uncertainty, a simple word leaving his lips firmly as he draws away enough to gaze at her with confident eyes, the answer pertaining to more than simply the events of the night before. ]
That's what I thought. [ she's amused herself by this entire train of thought, evidenced by the small hunching of both shoulders and the strong press of her lips together as she tries to subdue the fullness of a chuckle that manages to resound from somewhere deep within, the small twitch of her abdomen betraying her even further along those lines.
but it's easy, like so much of this has already been between them, a free and open exchange of lightly jabbing comments and quick witticisms that defined the course of their relationship from the beginning when neither of them was all that thrilled to be trapped in their shared predicament. and slowly, it had evolved from her saying things to provoke some kind of response from him to his own readiness to counter her banter, the cleverness in his remarks surprising her first and foremost before anything else had transpired.
her gaze tracks him as he moves, a slow slide that takes him closer to her until he's sitting there in front of her, reaching out to snag her hand in his β and she can only begin to guess what he'll do before he draws her near, enough to drop a kiss there. it's not that she won't have her reservations still β about herself, mostly, if she's even capable of doing this β but all of that manages to evaporate when his lips nudge to her skin.
and something ignites within her chest, warming her from the inside out, prompting her fingers to curve more firmly around his rather than dropping away too quickly. ] Good.
[ none of this should feel as natural as it does, the casual way his fingers slip into hers, how easily they fit, one by one curling around hers for a hold that isn't tight but plenty firm for a steady enough grip. perhaps he's still lost in it, the haze of the previous hours drifting further into the rest of the morning, and once he's supplied time and distance, he might grasp sense of it all again, why he shouldn't be lingering so close to her. he knows his reasons for being on his own, why it's better to hold onto his barriers and avoid these connections.
but his mouth presses soft to hers and it feels safe, and he can't quite imagine steering himself away from it so soon. ]
Good. [ he repeats, though it's more of a puzzle on his own tongue like he's surprised by the word, by the wonder that any of this is good, and that they're both still bulldozing forward into this collision against one another.
his free arm folds around her waist, a loose hold that simply guides her in close, curving her low into his space where he still remains kneeled at the bed's edge, just slightly beneath her height when he's urging her chest against his own, allowing his kiss to blossom into something just slightly deeper, but still mostly soft simply for embracing the sensation of it. ]
[ she'll find time to mull over all of it later β the events of the past couple of days, how they somehow stumbled through to this moment now, why he reaches for her and she doesn't hesitate, choosing to bask in the newness, the excitement, the thrill of a revised understanding between them. maybe once they're separated, she'll be able to put her head on straight again, think past the somersaulting in her stomach that seems to happen every time he looks at her, kisses her, touches her now.
the scariest part is she could stay here all day if they didn't have anything primed to tug them in two different directions. ]
Mmhmm. [ she breathes a soft hum into that kiss, his arm slung low across her waist and drawing her in, skin against hers, more of that warmth achieved; she shouldn't be so used to this yet and she sort of is, the tender rhythm of mouths that precedes her withdrawing to look down at him, free hand idly stroking along the side of his face. ]
Wanna help me use up all the hot water? [ he's not holding her so tightly that she can't slip free, briefly tweaking his chin between thumb and index prior to her stepping back, pivoting on one heel to head in the direction of the bathroom. it won't solve the issue of needing to retrieve their clothes from downstairs eventually, but she also can't show up to work with sex hair either. besides, she's giving him a different angle to observe β along with the pair of deer antlers darkly inked into the small of her back. ]
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action; nsfw
and perhaps, by filling in more of those blank spaces on her backstory, he gets her more, even if she's still stopping shy of telling him everything. there are some pieces of her life that don't even have much to do with the curse, but they've defined her as much as it has. maybe even more. but those aren't stories she wants to share while they're curled up together in her bed, while she's listening to him for once instead of spilling further.
her head tips into the path his hand takes across the side of her neck, along her jaw, and when he glances away from her it's only for a few seconds, not long enough for her to second-guess sharing anything because he's already returning to her with the assurance that it doesn't change what's transpired, the seismic shift that's occurred in the waning hours of the evening, the diverging of their relationship onto a new path entirely. the relief that floods over her is palpable, and she ducks her chin down to bite back a grin, silently impressed at his ability to make her stomach perform somersaults without any kind of warning whatsoever.
but when she inevitably brings her face to his again, her fingers curve a loose hold around his wrist, thumb nudging to his pulse, and the steadiness of it centers her too, lips pressing together like she's mulling over what she can even say in response to that. ]
You're something else, Frank Castle. [ soft, a little marveling, and she shakes her head in mild disbelief while she settles into him, not in search of yet another round but not ignoring that impulse to show him her gratitude by closing more of that distance. ] You know that?
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when he'd warned her about himself, about the things he'd done, how they might change the way she looked at him, she'd told him that none of it mattered, not when she'd already made her own determination about what kind of man he is based on what she'd seen with her own eyes. she'd assured him that whatever it was he was still keeping close to the vest (literally so) didn't need to be shared if he wasn't ready to drag out that truth β and he still isn't, knowing the weight his scars really carry, and what it might mean for them, for whatever this is if he were bring out his past into this space they've created for themselves.
it's little to do with trust β he holds more trust for her than he'd have ever guessed during those complicated first meetings of theirs β and more to do with preservation, with savoring these minutes, these hours, while they can let it last. ]
Yeah, you got that right. [ he mutters with a playful tone, a soft chuckling that does prompt a parallel ducking of his head in rhythm with her own, one that's short-lived before he finds himself peering back at her, too hypnotized by the softness in her eyes to glance away for too long.
his wrist held by hers, he doesn't draw it away, even if he does drag his fingers lip slightly, allowing his thumb to reach over her lip, a soft caress running horizontally across before he presses a light kiss, chaste but still tender, his voice rumbling a low whisper. ] But nothing quite like you, Wynonna Earp.
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she hasn't given up all of her ghosts, hasn't asked him to share those weights alongside her, to shoulder those burdens once he becomes aware of them, and she's not about to demand that of him either. she'd said as much to him before, when the pollen had infiltrated her senses and made her more susceptible to this, to the wanting of it (whatever you want to tell me, or don't, it's β that's okay), and without that in the air around them now she's finding she feels the same way about whatever secrets he chooses to divulge. something tells her he doesn't want her to bear those responsibilities either, that pain that occasionally lingers in the set of his shoulders, in how he sometimes hesitates before giving her an answer.
but for all that they're still keeping locked away, there's enough they've shared with each other tonight to carry her through β into the rest of this day, and maybe longer than that. she's never really allowed herself to think about the future in those terms, and the more time that passes while she's in his arms, the more she starts to want to.
she turns her mouth to his, a small pressing kiss, and nudges their foreheads together in the aftermath, harboring a smile with eyes closed for those few beats β and then she tucks herself into him, head resting beneath his chin, her cheek turned along his warmth. ] You were wrong, you know. First time we met, you said I wasn't gonna like you very much. [ her head tips back to his shoulder so she can glance up at him, as her voice drops to a bare whisper. ] You were wrong.
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he doesn't recall the memory at first, trying to pick apart the exact moment before it stitches together slow, the literal lack of a visual making it difficult at first to paint the scene. but he does remember that day, sitting across from her with all of his reluctance, forcing her to put in a majority of the effort towards actually working together to get out of their share predicament. ]
Yeah? [ he asks softly in return when he finds her eyes, mostly because he doesn't have a precise response for it.
there still hasn't been enough uncovered, in his opinion, for her to really cast that judgement. the endless blood on his eyes, the faults that led to his train of losses β he knows the stain they leave on him, how that discovery has always changed the way he's been perceived by other eyes (frank castle, he's a lot scarier than pete), and even if he'd shared the truth of his name, it wasn't enough to unevil the truth of his guilt, of the monster he is. she might not still like him once she finds out who he really is β or maybe he's more worried that she'll know it all and still like him anyway.
he falls quiet briefly, a slight gnawing at his lip as he peers off into a distant corner of the room where light from the window flutters casually. ] I, uh β I had my hand on the button. Back then, right when that buzzer went off, I was ready to push it for you.
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but mentioning it allows her to reflect on the chaos they'd been plopped down right in the center of, without their sight and no easily discernable way to get it back, and she smiles to recall it now, the way she'd had to basically lay out her reasons for why she, of all people, was most qualified to help him in that situation, only the conversation had soon shifted to all the trademark talking points of what could probably be described as a blind date, albeit more literal in its meaning. they'd exchanged seemingly inconsequential information, subjects like favorite movies and colors, and toward the end she remembers her hand drifting toward the center of the table to feel out the edge of her button, stopping just short of actually hitting it before their time had run out.
she's not looking at him when he speaks again, but she feels the vibration of his voice under a cheek that tenses with a smile, slightly incredulous, as if he'd managed to subconsciously pick up on what she was thinking about before saying it out loud on his end. she'll even go as far as to laugh, softly, another exhaled sound as she turns her face into his skin, a brief nudge of her nose, and then it's her turn to speak up. ]
I almost pushed mine. [ her voice stays quiet, though, reflective, fingers still moving idly along his side. ] Though I think I managed to push enough of your buttons after that to make up for not doing it the first time, right? [ and just because he's staying here with her now, as the sun slowly comes up, doesn't mean he's not at risk for her doing it again sometime in the near future. she knows what those eyerolls spell, frank. ] You know, you never did tell me what your idea of the perfect date is. Still too advanced for me?
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I didn't, did I? [ he'd forgotten about that too, the question too complicated then for him to answer without springing up some handwaved lie, which he'd voted against. but he hadn't taken her actual curiosity seriously either, though he knows when the question springs up now, it's with more genuine intrigue for an answer.
he doesn't respond immediately, letting his back simply sink into the mattress as he rolls more comfortably into it, holding her steady there against him, a set of fingers lazily drifting over her knuckles as they let wander a gentle caress over his skin. ] This. [ he realizes the cliche of the response, but his voice is so quiet, fairly relaxed, that there's nothing teasing in the tone, at all. ] It's just β shit's always been so loud. The things I see, the things I fight. That's kind of become the only thing I know how to do, long as I can remember. Even when I left the war, it just β never stopped, y'know? Like I said before, I don't β I don't know what to do when the silence comes.
[ there's more to it, he knows that. it's already more than he wants to say, but the warmth of her lets the words flow, honest on his tongue. ]
But this, I ... I feel like I'm breathing again. Like I'm remembering how to. And I guess, I just β I can't ask for something more perfect than that. [ his chest tightens, wondering if it's too much, knowing it's too much, but she's left his skin so unveiled, every core of him vulnerable for her taking, and he can't think of how to cover those corners again. so he mutters with a soft shrug, adding with a more casual air, ] That or front row tickets to a Springsteen concert.
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now, she can't imagine those events happening in any other order, but it doesn't make it any less amusing to hear the truth of his side. she'd tossed out the reference to the question she'd posed, the one he'd refused to answer, partly as a joke, her hand maintaining that casual roaming over his side before his hand covers hers. and then he supplies that response he'd left her hanging on before, and her first instinct is to laugh with the misunderstanding that he's just teasing her β before he continues and she falls quiet, stills against him.
she knows she doesn't have any concept of the violence he's seen, whatever his hands have dealt; she's seen what's been inflicted on his body but it's always the wounds that exist beyond skin-deep that are harder to shake. he's told her before about trying to cope, to exist in the silence, true peace a concept that he can't quite embrace β either because he's never been given enough opportunity to try or because he doesn't know how. she hasn't been fighting her battles as long as he has but she gets not knowing who she is without them now, or what kind of person she'll be when, or if, the curse is ended. and she gets feeling like this is the first time, in a long time, that she's been able to shut off the voice in her head trying to tell her she doesn't deserve this.
she eases up to him, working one hand beneath herself to nudge up into hovering over him as he murmurs that last part, one eyebrow quirking as she nods a few times. ] Oh, or that, huh? Well, barring the sudden appearance of the Boss here in Deerington β
[ she bends low to him, hair slipping forward over bare shoulders to grace the sides of her face, and her gaze is warm as it shifts over him, the softness of her sentence dissolving by the time that she kisses him, slow and sure. ] Maybe I can keep giving you that other part.
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but so many of those moments are consistently filled with her, her laughter, her smile, her scent, the fullness of her in his arms. as he lays here with her, that uncertainty that had lingered before about what this all could mean by the morning seems to dissolve, and what had originally felt like a halt to everything they'd come to have thus far, suddenly merely feels like a beginning to something else.
that shifting knowledge emboldens into something stronger with her answer, the press of the kiss feeling as more of a promise than a mere test. his palm coats her cheek, letting him peer up into her eyes, bright even in the continued partial darkness. ] I'd like that.
[ a promise, he thinks again, and it's nothing to do with the physical lust of it, the intimate entanglement that led him between her legs once, twice, three times; but whatever else comes with it, this comfort they can seek with confidence from one another if only for little spurts at a time whenever chaos erupts around them as this town is prone to providing.
he kisses her again to seal that, a tender caress of lips that assures her of his willingness to dive into whatever this is with her. even if he still fears, at his core, what it might mean when he's ready to let her in fully to the rest of his own demons. ]
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someday, he'll get that story. someday, she can tell him all about how the best thing she ever did in her life was to decide to have a daughter, to bring something into the world that will hopefully hold all the good parts of her and none of the worst. she won't get to see that for sure yet, though, not until it's safe enough for her to even know where alice is.
but thoughts of what lies ahead for her are fleeting in the midst of the current moment, in the comfort she's sought here with him, warmth and safety in the hands that traverse her skin and a mouth that finds hers with certainty. she kisses him again, a persisting rhythm, and then once more with a quick peck, and then tucks herself in against him again, stretching out beneath the blankets and finally letting that tiredness sink deep into her limbs, her arm a heavier weight slung across his midsection. ] Me too.
[ she yawns, briefly covering her mouth with the back of her hand, and harbors no worry in closing her eyes, his presence already assured to her at least for a little while longer as her breathing starts to slow. ] Really hope you don't snore, though, because then I'd have to rethink all of this. [ even as sleep begins to tug at her awareness, she chuckles, hugging him to her one last time before succumbing. ]
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for now, heβll bask in the hold heβs allowed, his fingers tracing over her naked back to secure his palm at her spine once she nestles closer into his chest, the warmth of her radiating over him. ] No snoring. I just drool a lot in my sleep. Cute image, actually. [ his own chuckle is a predecessor to that exhaustion finally settling in, and as the quiet replaces their banter, he knows sheβs dozed off, cycling through a small stock of thoughts before he finally drifts off as well.
he doesnβt know how long it is before he wakes, but he knows he feels rested. sunlight still flutters in through the curtains in an indication that it either might still be morning or theyβve ventured into the afternoon. he could crane his neck to get a view of the clock on the table, but his body is well curved into her, shuffled onto his side with his arms looped around her and the top of her head still pressed into his collar. somehow even still, he canβt think to move.
instead, he plants a gentle kiss atop her head, tender and lingering, fingertips tracing slow ghost lines across her back. thereβs no intention to wake her, not when heβs hardly ready to fully wake himself, but thereβs a pleasant warmth in his chest in knowing he still has her here like this even after sleep, that itβs all still continued to last even until now. ]
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and she doesn't stir, save for the occasional incoherent murmur or shifting that precedes an unconscious nuzzling into him, like she's trying to burrow closer even from the recesses of her awareness. and she doesn't dream of anything, body and mind lulled enough to let her rest peacefully throughout the morning without her stirring. there's no blaring of an alarm to wake her the way it happens normally; instead, she dimly registers a small press against her head and something light, almost ticklish trailing over her spine, gradually tugging her from sleep.
she groans softly, nose scrunching before her eyes open, and she has to take a second to remember the events of the last few hours, remember how she got here and what happened prior to that, why she has warm skin beneath her cheek and her hand pressed firm along someoneβs side, why there's a pleasant looseness in her hips.
slowly, the room swirls into focus, and when she tips her head up to be greeted with the underside of a chin, dark hair coating a formerly shaven jaw, and a pair of dark eyes looking back at her, her smile is immediate, undefended, none of her normal guards coming down when she's still coming out of sleep. she stretches beneath the sheets, tensing briefly against him, and lifts her head to rest her chin on his chest, hair a mussed, wild tangle that streams down her shoulders. ] Morning.
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fingers lazily brush her shoulders, the tips of them spinning small circles against her skin, still not fully recognizing any proper intention on waking fully. her hair bears a light fuzz, lightly from the vague combing of his traveling hand, running over the strands when heβd been caught in that peculiar in-between of dreaming and waking. ]
Morning. [ he repeats back, though his own tone is coarser, laced with deep rest still in his throat, realizing he might have lingered here even longer than he might be guessing.
still, the rush doesnβt fall over him, content to take these extra seconds, minutes, to slowly get out of that dazed state. because it might just be the result of that continued sleepiness affecting his more conscious decisions, but heβs still finding himself lulled by the position, by the weight of her pressed so warmly against his side and he knows he stands the possibility of getting closer to the acknowledgement of what it means to keep her there.
for now, he wonβt think of it as anything more than what it simply is. ] Sleep alright?
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she'd been able to perceive the weight of him against her throughout the night, somehow sensing that she wasn't fully alone but not seeking to put more space between their bodies. she just doesn't do this, doesn't find a reason to curl up next to anyone for any prolonged amount of time, and she definitely doesn't search for an excuse to stick around in the morning either. if there's anything that she can fall back on here, it's her own selfishness β for not wanting to give up the quiet, the solitude, and honestly, he's going to take all the warmth with him when he leaves. can't have that. ]
Yeah, actually. [ she lets herself verbalize the surprise of it, the unexpectedness; his hand is a steady, constant stroke across her upper back and bare shoulders and she has to repress a sudden shiver as fingertips inadvertently tease that skin, rendered more sensitive when she's still waking up.
but she looks to him then, braces her hand against his chest, beneath her chin, and when she turns the question around on him she realizes she's actually genuinely interested in his answer. ] You?
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[ the surprise is shared, considering his habit for lack of sleep, for hours he attempts to lie in his bed only for his eyes to remain open for a good portion of the night. even when he finds that eventual doze, it's always interrupted, always filled with those flickers of a carousel, the echoing jabs of laughter that always transform into screeching screams. he's faced it head-on for years, accustomed to the pile of sweat he'll find himself in when he wakes, but it never softens the pain of it.
working at the diner helps, fills those later hours with something to keep his hands busy even if it's scrubbing hard at the tiles when there's a lack of customers. but this β he never found himself threatening to wake, never even had the faint imagery of those old dreams coming to tug at him. they'll return, they always do, but for now, he finds himself laying here in a small portion of peace. ]
Starving, though. [ he gives her back a firmer rub, palm rubbing over his eyes. ] Anything in your kitchen I can scrap together? [ doubtful; he's seen her fridge. had to fix it enough to know its lack of contents. ]
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he's disrupted her schedule, leaving her with the compulsion to linger, to stretch out lazily in the bed and wake up to something that isn't her alarm β one she hits the snooze button on several times before finally getting up β but she still turns her face away from the sun in favor of glancing over his expression instead, dark eyes tilted downward before he rubs over them.
finally, she sits up, heedless of where the sheet falls to pool around her hips, and attempts another stretch, shoulders rolling before she tilts her head from side-to-side, removing any cricks acquired from sleeping at a certain angle. still, she's looser overall, no tightness in her joints, and she lets her hands fall down into her lap. ]
Why do you think I asked for the fries? [ she flashes him a quick grin; a trip to the mart's definitely on her to-do list, but that doesn't do them any good when his stomach's rumbling now. ]
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as she rises, the sheet rolls off of her skin, bare and smooth on display, but in place of any simmering fluster, there's only a flicker of adoration in his eyes, that conscious acknowledgement that she looks damn beautiful in this light, the sun fluttering in faint illuminated stripes across her body. it's a fairly nice way to wake up, dreamlike, he thinks, and his fingers caress faintly at the skin of her naked hip, not hinting at anything intentional, but simply absentmindedly still settling into this lazy morning. ]
How the hell do you even survive out here, Earp? It's farm land, right? Might need to start growing some damn crops. [ though he can't much say he sees her out there tending to fields and growing vegetables. hell, he realizes she doesn't even have a single plant in her house, leaving him to wonder if she can handle a fern in here. ] We're not eating soggy fries.
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this is supposed to be way more awkward than it is right now. she'd fumble through an excuse while hurriedly attempting to retrieve her clothes, attempt some bullshit about calling him later, remain unable to locate her bra and have to go without for her latest walk of shame, wynonna earp edition. but she curves back, studies him down the round of her shoulder, his fingers idle at her hip, subtly leaning into that contact while her brain tries to reboot itself. ]
Mmm. Can you honestly see me up before the sun, going into the barn to milk the cows? [ she scrunches up her nose again, visible distaste at that mental image, and shakes her head with a corresponding sway of wavy hair. ] Look, if I'd known I was going to be feeding more than one person this morning, I would've ducked into Hart on the way home from work instead of my procrastinating norm. [ that's a lie. she probably would've put it off anyway until the last possible minute, when the fridge was down to a jar of one lone pickle and a box of cold, stale pizza from peter's. ]
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Well, I can definitely see you wrestling some cows. [ he flashes a lazy grin, a low huffing chuckle beneath his breath as he tilts his head with the imagery in his mind. ] Shoving yourself up against them, trying to herd them through a fence. Actually a pretty fun picture.
[ really, this house can barely hold itself together enough to keep her in comfortable living conditions. he can't even imagine what it'd be like to try and sustain actual living animals in the barn as well. he'd definitely be the one working overtime. ]
Y'know, I'm pretty sure you don't have to wait until you're feeding more than one person to considering stocking up something beyond expired yogurt. [ shit, he purses his lip with that comment, suddenly remembering how this all had even began in the first place, when the call had first come in with her random question. ] Not even toast? An egg or something?
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Getting trampled, you mean? Oh, yeah, definitely, hilarious image there. [ she retrieves a pillow from the edge of the bed and chucks it loosely in the vicinity of his chest, counting on his reflexes being a little slower and inhibiting him from grabbing it before it smacks him.
and she'll finally try to wrest herself free of the bedsheets before he can consider a swift and sound retaliation, swinging her legs over towards the far side and rising up to stand with another full stretch, both arms winding above her head. before she even considers whether or not she has enough in her fridge to sustain them this morning, a shower is definitely taking priority β though she looks back at him again as if gauging whether or not she even needs to say anything to extend that invite, if he'll be able to decipher it solely by the look in her eyes. ]
There might be eggs. [ her mouth quirks to one side while she wracks her brain for that memory β what else had she seen in there when she'd been talking to him before, holding that expired yogurt in one hand? understandably, anything that happened prior to their clothes coming off is a little fuzzy now. ] Why, you work up an appetite or last night or something?
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Way to look down on yourself. I think you can take on a cow just fine. You got that β y'know, that charm. [ which is more of a playful comment, but admittedly, there's truth to it, how she'd once taken his grumpy responses and softened it with her stubborn retalitations, light commentary and tacky jokes somehow steering him in a direction that somehow inevitably landed him here in her bed.
he lifts himself to sit up, arms extended and palms pressing into the mattress to hold him steady as he peers to her, eyes lingering on the full stretch of her. ]
I don't know about that. Think I ate pretty well last night.
[ and there's that signature smirk, one that shifts in a bit more freely this time aorund with that curving of his lips, a soft swiping of his lip with a teasing tongue for a display that's now purposeful, knowing that her eyes are bound to linger there. ]
action; subtle nsfw
Oh, is that what it is? Charm? Not just wearing down the cow's defenses until it had no choice but to give in? [ somehow this bovine subject has become more of a metaphor now as the conversation's gone on, shifting to be less about the literal and closer to a stand-in for the person who continues to make themselves thoroughly comfortable between those sheets.
any plan she had to veer off in the direction of a shower is completely stalled when he licks across his mouth, her gaze drawn to it in spite of herself, in spite of knowing he means to knock her off-center; sense memory fills in the reminder of where that tongue had been only hours before, and damn him for trying to make her squirm like that, heat immediately pooling low between her thighs. ]
You had your fill yet? [ beyond the dirtier innuendo, though, there may be a nudge of deeper questioning in it, an ask in regards to whether he's done with her, too, and she tips her chin down to level their gazes, hope subtly residing in her own eyes. ]
action; subtle nsfw
it's the same way that the rest of his teasing commentary is spoken easy, not quite as reserved or left subtle as it once had been. whatever had happened last night had steered them into a far steeper direction, one they both must have known would guarantee that there was no real way of returning to the simpleness they once tried to maintain, back when even the events of the pollen had threatened to push them over the edge. making excuses for that was easier when not all of it could be pinned on their own control, but this β this was entirely in their hands and it was either to be dropped in its entirety or ran with.
his choice is more obvious when he rises even further, lifting on his knees before dragging them across the mattress and the mess of tangled sheets, right up until he gets to the edge, close enough for him to reach out and take her hand. a light enough tug can bring her in closer, just enough for him to press his lips to her, brief but tender. ]
No. [ he says without uncertainty, a simple word leaving his lips firmly as he draws away enough to gaze at her with confident eyes, the answer pertaining to more than simply the events of the night before. ]
action;
but it's easy, like so much of this has already been between them, a free and open exchange of lightly jabbing comments and quick witticisms that defined the course of their relationship from the beginning when neither of them was all that thrilled to be trapped in their shared predicament. and slowly, it had evolved from her saying things to provoke some kind of response from him to his own readiness to counter her banter, the cleverness in his remarks surprising her first and foremost before anything else had transpired.
her gaze tracks him as he moves, a slow slide that takes him closer to her until he's sitting there in front of her, reaching out to snag her hand in his β and she can only begin to guess what he'll do before he draws her near, enough to drop a kiss there. it's not that she won't have her reservations still β about herself, mostly, if she's even capable of doing this β but all of that manages to evaporate when his lips nudge to her skin.
and something ignites within her chest, warming her from the inside out, prompting her fingers to curve more firmly around his rather than dropping away too quickly. ] Good.
action;
but his mouth presses soft to hers and it feels safe, and he can't quite imagine steering himself away from it so soon. ]
Good. [ he repeats, though it's more of a puzzle on his own tongue like he's surprised by the word, by the wonder that any of this is good, and that they're both still bulldozing forward into this collision against one another.
his free arm folds around her waist, a loose hold that simply guides her in close, curving her low into his space where he still remains kneeled at the bed's edge, just slightly beneath her height when he's urging her chest against his own, allowing his kiss to blossom into something just slightly deeper, but still mostly soft simply for embracing the sensation of it. ]
action;
the scariest part is she could stay here all day if they didn't have anything primed to tug them in two different directions. ]
Mmhmm. [ she breathes a soft hum into that kiss, his arm slung low across her waist and drawing her in, skin against hers, more of that warmth achieved; she shouldn't be so used to this yet and she sort of is, the tender rhythm of mouths that precedes her withdrawing to look down at him, free hand idly stroking along the side of his face. ]
Wanna help me use up all the hot water? [ he's not holding her so tightly that she can't slip free, briefly tweaking his chin between thumb and index prior to her stepping back, pivoting on one heel to head in the direction of the bathroom. it won't solve the issue of needing to retrieve their clothes from downstairs eventually, but she also can't show up to work with sex hair either. besides, she's giving him a different angle to observe β along with the pair of deer antlers darkly inked into the small of her back. ]
action;
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action; probs back on the nsfw train lbr
action; nsfw
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action; nsfw