[ The drug hasn't lowered her resistance to him; the desire for that contact to persist between them has always been there, but now, with that heat settled decisively in her body and her faint perception of other details — like a certain amount of hard evidence notched against the inside of her thigh — she wants to chase that feeling.
Even the slightest trail of fingers over bared skin leaves goosebumps rising on her arms in their wake, prompts an eager shiver that has nothing to do with the slowly fading summer heat as night surrounds them. She's warm in spite of it all, increasingly eager to dispense with layers, and when he thumbs open the clasp between her shoulderblades she reflexively curls against his front with a laugh, like they really are two teenagers trying to get to third base in an empty field somewhere. But she also figures she'll match him in his escalation, sitting back carefully as she crosses her arms over her front, grips the hem of her top and peels it all up over her head, leaving herself bared in his view.
The caress of cooler air on her skin is instantaneous; she shivers again, lowers herself down to him to partially use the sides of the truck bed to shield them from idle viewing but also to absorb some of his warmth too, and now her fingers really are working to make progress on the rest of those buttons, drawing the undone halves open for palms to smooth over the firmness of his exposed torso. ]
Would you believe me if I said I didn't really have this in mind when I brought you out here? [ But now that they're initiating it together, she can't bring herself to complain much, draping herself across his chest; the weed has made her giddy, and she's grinning as she teasingly nips at his bottom lip. ]
[ there's a certain glow about her when she rolls back, the expanse of her upper half clear in his view as she clutches the ends of her shirt and slips them free from her body. even in the darkness of where they've settled for privacy, the moonlight is enough to bounce over her skin and can only grin wide when she nestles back in close to him, noses nudging together. ]
No. [ he doesn't actually believe she had this part of the night planned out, but there's a natural progression towards teasing her anyway, that nip of teeth prompting a low grunt before he responds with a playful swipe of his tongue. ]
I think you'll look for just about any excuse to get my shirt off. [ his lips will purse as if to scold her, but with her naked skin now fully unveiled for him, his palms can freely glide against the arch of her spine, fingertips dipping anywhere that might hint the presence of knots, a set pressing more firmly at the height of her back, near her nape.
he hadn't counted on any of this happening either, but now that it's extended to this, he won't resist making the most of those slow but lingering kisses, tongue curving and tasting her fully, noises that, despite the playful banter, spell a more intimate interest. ]
[ She knows how flushed she must look right now, the wild tumble of her hair doing little to hide the rise of color in her cheeks and lower still, across the plane of her chest, the most obvious signs of her being affected on more than one level.
And yet she doesn't feel compelled to rush this, all of it occurring in a slow haze that leaves her more motivated to remain sprawling across his body while continuing to trade lazy kisses than initiate anything more than that right away. ]
You know I do. [ Her loosened lips might sink any chance she has at maintaining a fully innocent investment in his physique, but she'll never not appreciate what he looks like divested of that top layer, even if she knows he's consciously aware of those scars that adorn his body. As far as she's concerned, they only present places for her to deliberately lavish attention on, and she momentarily diverts to find a darker circle of tissue that no doubt represents an old bullet wound, gently pressing her lips to that spot.
But she arches into him when his fingertips press deeply against the curve of her back, maneuvering at the base of her spine and up closer to the back of her neck; she moans contentedly, breaths leaving her in a rising panting that ghosts over his beard until she nudges her nose to the center of his cheek. ] Ohhh, that feels good.
[ his scars have always represented that other part of him, the one he, at times, aims to keep disguised. but she's seen the bare exposure of the man that is frank castle, the deeper scars that hold more terrorizing memories and the monster it can sometimes have the power to awaken, and she hasn't retreated from any of it. instead, she paints that damaged skin with the softness of her lips, light brushes that make him sigh serenely with closed eyes.
yet, it doesn't deter him from his own movements, index and thumb firm as it presses along either side of her nape, cascading down the borders of her spine to continue the tender massage that give rise to her moans, giving in to the sensation of it. ]
Yeah? [ he takes advantage of her vulnerable pause, the stretch of her neck in reach where he can dip his lips, parting them against the taut exposure of her throat. trailing south, his tongue traces a horizontal stripe to her clavicle, warm breath falling against the flush tones of her chest.
at the height of her breast, teeth nipping gently into the swell of that tender skin, he mutters in a low, whispered voice, ] Tell me what else feels good.
[ If she hadn't spent the last two years being the heir, she might actually have more scars to show for it too, the unmarred skin that his touch caresses over now not all that indicative of the battles she's fought. But she wears her hurts on the inside, has suffered her losses as he has, and they've glimpsed enough in each other to recognize that similiarity, the wounds that linger even after the scars begin to fade.
So she doesn't shy away from touching him anywhere, and she welcomes his hands on her too, her own arms wrapping around him to keep him clutched flush against her while he mouths over the column of her throat; there are more clothes to take care of but it's a very distant goal as he murmurs across her skin.
Her arousal is rendered plain in the hard peaks that seem to strain for his attention as his lips hover nearer to them, and she responds by combing her fingers through his hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp. She wouldn't shy away from doing it even if she was sober, but the high leaves her enjoying the amplified softness of those dark strands against her hand. ]
Th-that. [ She tucks her chin down to nudge her nose into that thick mass, lips moving against his forehead while she speaks. ] Your hands and your mouth being dirty, dirty partners-in-crime on me.
[ he's learned with time that she carries plenty of ghosts of her own, seen them in their literal presences that dared to haunt her even here. she'd done a more impressive job than he has at disguising them, with a personality that always valued humor and casualness to veil the hurt that lurked beneath, but pain that lingers just beneath the surface always finds a way to rise again, and now that he's seen pieces of it for himself, he holds those more hidden scars of hers with his more visible ones, tangling them for them to bear together.
because it's more than the high that encourages him to touch her now, the needy craving for the warmth of her something that's merely become innate, every press of a kiss a reminder of how she's bewitched him gradually through the months in needing her — physically, emotionally — every hint of resistance crumbling with ease.
he breathes a soft chuckle with her response, following a muttered hum that gets lost to her skin even as he attempts to speak against it. ] Didn't realize. [ it's meant to be a teasing retort, but it slips as a deep, sensual murmur, even more so when he follows it with a further decline of his parted mouth, the press of a slick tongue meeting a pointed, attentive peak.
his palms fall to her sides, high against her hips to hold her close still, thumbs massaging gradually inward as his lips provide a soft suction, the rumble of a moan low but evident from his throat. ]
[ She's just got done confessing she hadn't intended anything along these lines, but now she has to thank her past self for picking this spot for them to retreat to; there's no one else to necessarily be aware of, save him, but even then her volume hasn't lifted beyond a certain decibel range. It's almost their adjusted proximity that leaves her voicing softer noises into his hair, a sharp intake of breath following the wrapped suction of his mouth around where she so desperately aches for it.
And if it were possible for her to melt then and there, she might, dissolving into his weight beneath her while any remaining resolve to simply tease him starts to crumble. ]
No? Not even — right now? [ She realizes he can't answer her, not with his mouth busy, and she doesn't even expect a verbal response, but the vibration of his sounds over her skin motivate her towards doing more to provoke similar noises, especially if she's in a position to reciprocate more physically.
Her hand slips between them, fingers wandering past a belt buckle and over a denim seam until she can palm what rises slightly adjacent, the heat of him emanating even through that thicker layer and the one beneath it; her fingers curve to offer an added press to that stroke, as she selfishly waits to hear that low moan that originates from somewhere deep in his chest. ]
[ just as she gathers, he can't answer, won't answer, not as he keeps his lips pressed against her, massaging at her sensitive skin with firm rolls of his tongue. it's easy to sense the way her breathing shifts, every hitch that staggers to breathe in more deeply, encouraged all the more with the slide of fingers along longer strands of hair he hasn't bothered to cut since she granted her approval of the look.
he only manages to pull his lips free when she guides her hand low between them, the boundary of denim not enough to keep away the satisfaction of that touch, his hips instinctively rising to maximize the pressure she's already applying. ]
Feels good. [ he mutters in a whisper with a partial smile, meant to parallel the earlier tease. but any playfulness attempted is instantly replaced with the aroused sounds she seeks to command, the contact of his kiss a lighter brush now that he becomes distracted with deep groans.
his fingers press harder at her hips, a tighter grip at her flesh that could potentially bruise if he keeps them there long enough. but they won't still, not as a set of them roam inward to undo the button of her jeans, the dip of his hand finding the hem of her underwear and slipping within, fingertips direct on her skin when they stroke between her legs. ]
[ There's only so much she can do from this position while they're still partly clad, while her head is still swimming with the effects of the drug, while she's letting that high roll over her, and the energy his caresses stir within her originate at the places his hands and mouth roam over before rippling outward towards the tips of her fingers where she grasps at him. She squeezes reflexively, both at his hair and lightly between his thighs while he rises towards her touch with a corresponding creak of the truck bed beneath them at that shifting weight. ]
You can say that again. [ Another amused laugh becomes another softer whimper, and her knees slide to clutch at his hips when she faintly perceives his hand slipping beneath the waist of her jeans and beyond to touch her even more directly. ]
Oh God, that's cheating — [ Never mind that it's hardly that; she's not surprised he'd try to up the ante with a hand that nudges between her legs, and she's definitely not surprised by her ready response to him, the tilt of her hips and the need that leaves her slick to the touch. It's all she can do to remember her own objective, yanking his belt open with a little more strength than she intends, and her hand moves to work that final button open, but that's as far as she gets before his stroking stills her in a shuddering exhale. ]
I know. [ it's definitely cheating in a way, though there's no doubt that both of them benefit when he slips his fingers beneath all the layers that still keep her dressed below. he's hardly breathing harder from the grasping motions of her palm, but there's also an excitement in merely watching her react, in feeling the arousal that's pooled below, making it easy for him to slide those rhythmic strokes even if the angle itself for his hand isn't the most comfortable.
but he doesn't stop, working up those firm presses to coax that building urgency, right up until she tenses against him, breath shaky in the wind that breezes against them. ]
So do you. [ even if she's fully bare at the upper half of her body, there's still more to remove, and when he slips his fingers free, it's to instantly grip at her loosened jeans, only yanking them slight with the complex position. ] Get 'em off. [ however way she needs to maneuver for it. ]
[ Undressing means moving, and right now she really doesn’t want to move, that deeper touch finding her in a slow rhythm that sends her hips moving to meet it; she’s needy now and she doesn’t care if she might be too vocal about it, rougher breaths taken and exhaled from her lips towards his even if there’s no smoke that curves between them anymore.
But finally, finally she relents, rolling off of him with a groan that precedes her stretching out across the truck bed next to him; she’s forced to bring her knees up towards her chest and perform a hasty shimmying movement to fully get rid of the rest of her clothes, kicking them off in a denim puddle before she throws out a hand to curve a grip in one half of his shirt. ]
C’mere.
[ Because whatever she said about enjoying the view from up above before, she wants him covering her in his weight now, his hips lowered to hers and her mouth finding his without any hesitation; she’ll wrap her legs around him as she tries to shove his open jeans down enough to clear the way, too impatient to wait otherwise. ] I want you like this.
[ he groans in disappointment when she lifts herself away from him, despite being the one to breathed the command to her to undress. he does begin to take advantage of that brief moment to work a little on his own jeans, beginning to drag that and the layer beneath down his thighs, but she proves to be much faster and urgent than his own speed, already requesting his presence before he can barely tug down his clothing.
he doesn't hesitate, though, rolling his body to slide over her, finding that natural settlement above her and between her legs, lowering to find the natural progression of their meeting mouths.
she mutters her request to his lips and he sighs deeply, breath warm where he exchanges it with hers. ]
Wynonna. [ he whispers her name soft so that it's lost to her mouth, a strained noise following as he adjusts himself below, guiding his arousal to an already slick entry and kissing her amidst the gradual press. music still echoes softly from the radio and yet it isn't enough to disguise the soft rise of a low moan and panting breath. ]
[ No one's more disappointed about her having to relinquish her perch in his lap than she is, but it's a sacrifice she's fully prepared to make up for when she comes to the conclusion that she'd rather have him on her instead, and she doesn't have to wait long, a bit of fumbling in it while he eases over her and settles between her parted knees.
The fact that she's completely bared against his half-dressed state is sort of lost on her now; she's too far gone in this to care anyway, hair fanned out around her head in a dark spill of waves as she gazes up to him, finding his eyes in the moonlight.
And he's there before she can fully catch her breath, stealing the gasp that press of hips elicits with his own lips, swallowing that sound from her; she closes her eyes and loses herself in the sensation, rising warmth and slowly sated need and the syllables of her voice forged between their mouths.
But she won't rush him either, as he notches himself flush against her, her hands slipping beneath his shirt to roam over where he's bare beneath it, feeling the roll of his shoulders when they join; her eyes flutter open to find his face hovering right above hers and she nudges their noses together. ] God, I don't think I could ever get tired of this.
[ once he finds himself hovering above her, there's no reason to even bother with undressing further. every bit of skin that can press to her directly is already exposured, from the unbuttoned flaps that allow her fingers to roam the width of his chest to firm guidance of his hips to notch perfectly against hers.
and as urgent as she might have been to drag her to him, bypassing any need to even discard the rest of his clothing, there's still no rush to the sensations of simply basking in the connection, of gazing tenderly to one another as a melody plays softly near them, and their flush bodies provide them all the warmth they need to shield against the night's breeze.
his arm braces against the blanket beneath them, curving around her head to gently stroke at her hair, thumb brushing away messily tangled strands. ]
Good. [ it's such a quiet whisper, it could be mistaken for a mere breath as he grants her a gentle kiss, a soft gesture that comes with the slow roll of his hips, lazy movements for the moment that simply aim to feel her. ] Cause you're all I want.
[ She won't notice the difference between her state and his until they're beyond done — then, and only then, will it hit her that her impatience has once again caused her to not let him get as far as she has in stripping off her clothes, even though all that's required on his end is a little maneuvering and hasty shoving until she has him right where she wants him, sliding between her thighs and lowering his weight against her.
The truck bed provides enough of a barrier to shield them from a straight-on view, and if there's more of a chill in the air once the sun goes down, he covers her enough to keep her warm, the blankets beneath her recycling that heat brought on both by what they've inhaled and what they seek out now, sensations heightened by even the slightest movement.
She tilts her head into the touch of his hand, those fingers gliding through her hair while hers clutch at his shoulders in time with his hips; it's slow, maybe slower than she'd like if she was entirely sober but she's happy just to feel, relaxed beneath him while he moves, lips lazily finding his for those intermittent, grazing kisses. ] It's just you, you know. Only you.
[ months ago, he’d done anything to get out; now, he couldn’t imagine leaving. and while the town itself certainly hasn’t gained any necessary fondness from him, not with all that he knows it’s capable of, he’s found something that’s worth sticking around for. he’d told her he’d stay, for the sake of helping to figure out whatever it is that brought him here in the first place, but if there’s another task for him here, he doesn’t think of it now.
the only thing that occupies his mind is the slide of her lips, the way they can find a rhythm together no matter what the pace of their hips may be, whether urgency commands them as he expects it might soon, or whether it’s simply enough to be this close and simply let it last.
only you, and he can imagine that she deserves much better than that, and if this were any other moment, he’d argue that very fact. but he’s already debated it with her, and right now, it doesn’t matter. not as he rocks a little more firmly, draws himself back slow until he can glide back with ease, making himself flush on every roll so he can bury himself deep in her heat, the beat of her heart close to his own chest. ]
Only you. [ he repeats quietly, pressing his nose to her cheek as he picks up his pace, quiet grunts lost in every breath. ]
[ It's taken this long for her to realize that her motivation for staying doesn't just fall under the reason of wanting to help; it's more than that now, more a result of the people she's come to know and the ones she wants to protect, with him chief among them, even if she knows he'd be the first to tell her he's more than capable of taking care of himself.
They're a lot alike in that way, each firmly insistent that they don't need anyone else's protection but maybe knowing deep down that they're stronger when they're in each other's corner, that the threats of this town are less insurmountable when they're fighting side by side.
There's no haste, no intention to rush this now, the lazy slide of mouths mimicking the similarly unhurried rocking of bodies; she likes him this deep, the added grind offering a friction that she can feel in all the right places, and her fingers dig into his back a little more while she finally starts moving to meet him in a lift of her hips. ]
So good. [ She probably doesn't need to tell him that based on what he can hear in those breathless exhalations while she clings so tightly, but there's really no filter between her brain and her mouth right now and she's dangerously close to saying everything she's feeling in this moment, trying to find the right words to express this sense of safety and warmth and right — and she brings her lips to his again, kisses him before she can spout off and inadvertently ruin this somehow by saying something too soon. ]
[ it’s strange to have found routine here, taking up the gig at the diner and choosing to look out for laura on more official terms than he would have originally allowed himself. but nothing has been more a part of his every day here than she has, a familiar constant since his arrival, and a steadiness that keeps him from going unhinged here.
chaos thrives in this town, but wynonna supplies him with an odd kind of normal, someone to seek out when he tires, a face to find when he goes home, whether in early hours or the late ones. it’d been years since he’d had any of it, all of it snatched away in a single incident, and if anyone actually terrifies him in deerington, it isn’t the monsters, it isn’t the tricks, but the threat that he might just lose everything all over again.
that he’ll wake up tomorrow, and he’ll lose laura, and he’ll lose wynonna, all at once.
his body quivers a little, and credit could go to the remnants of the drug in his system, or the breeze of the night air, or even the overwhelming heat exchanged between them. but he kisses her harder then, not taking for granted that he has her here now, that whatever hell they might end up dealing with in the morning, they’ve still got this despite it. as he carries a firmer urgency in his thrusts, their lips don’t quite align as he moves, but he keeps their mouths close nonetheless, the whisper of her name there harsh and needy, as his palm clings a tight grip to her thigh, rocking into a harder grind. ]
[ She'd said as much to Yasha, once — there are probably worse places to be, without the people you love — and while it would never dawn on her to replace anyone from home, never occur to her to let anyone assume the position of chief in her heart other than her closest friends and family, she's found something like it here, found people to give her purpose, to make her new mission and her responsibility mean something. There are worst places to be than this, and she's been there, far from any sign of anything or anyone who mattered. Deerington reminds her of Purgatory in a lot of ways, a small town full of people who are just trying to find a sense of normal amidst the weird, fighting to have that life for themselves, and maybe she knows a thing or two about that.
None of it would be possible, she thinks, without him here with her now; they'd showed up around the same time, and he's as much a piece of her existence here as the rest of it — the job at the bar, the farmhouse slowly being patched up to some degree of livability, the people she recognizes every time she goes to the diner who know her as Wynonna and not the heir, not the disaster, not the reckless liability with a tendency for running her mouth. Okay, maybe that last part isn't completely true; he's likely to call her out for her inability to shut up, moreso than anyone else here.
It should say something all on its own that she's fallen silent apart from those desperate sounds, soft enough for his hearing to pick up with him nestled this close to her — and she crests, contentedly, one minute cradled at the precipice of her release and the next tumbling right into it with a hard tremor of her hips and a series of gasps, the furrow in her brow smoothing out as her lips broaden into a smile.
But he's still moving over her, in her, and she keeps herself tight against him, wanting to bring him there to that edge right after her as his own motions prolong everything she's feeling, makes something in her chest swell simply from the intimacy of the moment, from hearing her name on his lips over and over, the only time he ever uses it like this. ]
[ he isn’t sure how much he has waiting for him back home, for whatever home is to him, mostly anywhere he can find a night’s rest or at least stay a couple of days without worrying about getting shot. he’d gotten amy to florida and convinced karen to live a better life without him in it. letting himself disconnect from anyone that would only be in danger from being entangled in his own convictions, only the punisher awaited for him outside of this town.
yet, somehow he’s been able to reclaim the name of frank castle here, seen as more than just the skull painted across his chest, even if he’s recognized that it holds a corner of his identity just as well. he’d never considered the idea of settling down in deerington for long term, not exactly —but there are certain parts of it that hold more reason to keep him around than going back to far less.
and as she tenses against him, the reflexive stutter of her body that clues him in on her pleasure, he urges himself only closer, parted mouth braced to her cheek as he holds her through the brink of it, lets her ride it out against the continued insistent press of his hips. she clings to him, everywhere and down below, and it’s encouragement to chase his release with her. a steady panting falls to her skin, and he grunts deeply when he finds it, hips thrusting harder still, as fingers smooth across her throat while he kisses her lips.
when it all comes crashing down, he remains where he is, moving little save for the dipping of his forehead to hers, breathing softly as he lets the shared warmth between them wash over him. ]
[ And maybe this is where she's the most torn about all of it, rarely secure in any kind of knowledge about how long she'll be here — but she wouldn't have made it this far on her own, wouldn't have survived without forging connections to keep her rooted, to ground her on those days that have been harder than others, to add on to her own strength.
If she is on some kind of timetable, if she isn't meant to be here past a certain date, she'll deal with it then, and she might be kidding herself if she thinks experiencing that severance won't break her a little in the process, won't add to the cracks that already exist around her heart, but she'll get through it the same way she always has, by learning to lean on the people around her.
He's that support for her here, will be until he can't anymore, and even if they've got an expiration date ahead of them she's not willing to think that far into the future; she's definitely not projecting herself outward beyond him and them and this in the right here and now, with him warm and solid above her and cradling her close, touching her like she deserves to have something good in her life.
And she's there to hold him too, when he finally empties into her, fingers smoothing over his skin as he brings their faces together; she's still catching her breath, doesn't have the words yet, but she doesn't necessarily need to in a moment like this one, when she feels like she's floating above herself and he's the only thing keeping her tethered to solid ground. She presses her mouth to his from behind closed eyes, once and then again, murmuring dreamily when she finally manages to speak. ] You're something else.
[ he’s heard about it plenty, how in the same way that people can arrive without warning, they might just vanish in the same way. he’s heard it but hasn’t experienced it for himself, and every day he’s come to fear it more and more, the loss that inevitably awaits him. but he’s been well trained at putting on a brave face, at taking what he has and running with it, because ultimately, whatever he gets is what he deserves and he knows that none of this is ever meant to end well for him.
still, she shakes his plans, always coats him with the unexpected, including the very feelings that he’s come to have for her, the longing to see her each and every day that he wakes up in this town, and the peace he finds in her lips when she kisses him soft as she does now.
with a sigh and a shiver that he faults the wind for her, he tucks his arm besides her head, fingers stroking her hair as he lingers against her, settling into the warmth and dreading the eventual need to withdraw.
at her voice, he laughs softly, quiet but with an affectionate sound. ] Yeah? Hope that’s a good something. [ holding his smile, he nudges his nose to hers softly. ] And you’re — [ everything, he thinks, the word right there on his tongue. ] — very naked.
[ He likes to claim that she’s done a thorough job all on her own of catching him off-guard, derailing his plans when he least expected it, but the truth of it is that he’s unseated her too, worked his way past those shields of humor and teasing that she so often equips to ensure people remain a safe distance away. He’s seen her in those moments, but he’s also seen her stripped of her defenses, nothing left to keep her intact, even more vulnerable and exposed than she is laying right here without a single stitch of clothing on — and it hadn’t been enough to make him run.
So often she’s worried about whether she’ll be too much for him to handle, but she wakes up almost every morning to the soft press of lips against her cheek and a quietly murmured goodbye, the hairs of his beard tickling her face before he departs the room in a series of creaking steps on the staircase, soon followed by the sound of the screen door clapping shut. He’s there, in every way she never anticipated, and try as she might to convince herself otherwise, he’s never shown signs that anything could prompt him to leave her side.
Her grin widens and she drifts back to herself, head lazily lolling against the blankets beneath them as she slowly comes back to where they are and what they’ve just been up to — and his shiver seems to pass on to her then, her thighs reflexively squeezing at his hips as she nuzzles into his nose. ]
Yeah, looks like I am. [ Good thing she’s got her clothes in easy reach, but dressing means sacrificing his weight on her and she doesn’t want to surrender it yet, her fingers a steady slide across his spine. ] This might actually be the craziest thing I’ve done in this damn truck, and that’s counting the time I accidentally rolled it.
[ they hadn’t intended on unveiling so many parts of themselves, but they had, from the loss of his family to the truth of her daughter, from the gallons of blood on his hands to the ghosts that still lingered close behind her. so much had changed since they sat across from one another, literally blind to what was right in front of them, and while frank wouldn’t have guessed the girl who’d been a thorn in his side for his first couple of weeks here would be so important to him, he doesn’t bother denying it now.
especially not in his current state, the air of the afterglow leaving him relaxed above her, even as he keeps a forearm steady to support his weight. but it’s the press of her hips and the tickle of her nose that keeps him close, postponing any need to separate themselves so soon. ]
Well, we’re going two for two on our vehicles. What do you say we hit up that bike of yours next? [ obviously, a joke. but he’s not exactly blind to this accidental trend they’ve begun to set, either. ]
[ Maybe there'd been a metaphor in that whole blind dating adventure all along, how she hadn't been able to see the truth of who was sitting right in front of her until it was too late for her to deny it — and she can't even claim that she'd tried to keep it casual either, that first night he'd finally ventured over to her place to do more than tighten loose screws lasting well into the next morning. He'd made a place for himself nestled in close the same way he is now, laying over her with his fingers absently drifting through her hair, and she can feel how flushed her face must look, cheeks filled with warmth and expression wholly content.
Eventually, she slides herself away from him with a soft hiss of breath once they're fully separated, but rather than reach for her clothes to get dressed right away she reaches out to grab the edge of one of the blankets covering the interior of the truck bed, curling it around herself in her best imitation of a human burrito. ]
Mmm. You jest, but there's something about the idea of doing it on that gorgeous blend of steel and leather that might just get my motor running all over again. [ She can't keep a straight face even while she's saying it, though, sinking her teeth into her lower lip in an attempt to stifle her smirk. ]
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action; cw: drug use + nsfw
Even the slightest trail of fingers over bared skin leaves goosebumps rising on her arms in their wake, prompts an eager shiver that has nothing to do with the slowly fading summer heat as night surrounds them. She's warm in spite of it all, increasingly eager to dispense with layers, and when he thumbs open the clasp between her shoulderblades she reflexively curls against his front with a laugh, like they really are two teenagers trying to get to third base in an empty field somewhere. But she also figures she'll match him in his escalation, sitting back carefully as she crosses her arms over her front, grips the hem of her top and peels it all up over her head, leaving herself bared in his view.
The caress of cooler air on her skin is instantaneous; she shivers again, lowers herself down to him to partially use the sides of the truck bed to shield them from idle viewing but also to absorb some of his warmth too, and now her fingers really are working to make progress on the rest of those buttons, drawing the undone halves open for palms to smooth over the firmness of his exposed torso. ]
Would you believe me if I said I didn't really have this in mind when I brought you out here? [ But now that they're initiating it together, she can't bring herself to complain much, draping herself across his chest; the weed has made her giddy, and she's grinning as she teasingly nips at his bottom lip. ]
action; cw: drug use + nsfw
No. [ he doesn't actually believe she had this part of the night planned out, but there's a natural progression towards teasing her anyway, that nip of teeth prompting a low grunt before he responds with a playful swipe of his tongue. ]
I think you'll look for just about any excuse to get my shirt off. [ his lips will purse as if to scold her, but with her naked skin now fully unveiled for him, his palms can freely glide against the arch of her spine, fingertips dipping anywhere that might hint the presence of knots, a set pressing more firmly at the height of her back, near her nape.
he hadn't counted on any of this happening either, but now that it's extended to this, he won't resist making the most of those slow but lingering kisses, tongue curving and tasting her fully, noises that, despite the playful banter, spell a more intimate interest. ]
action; cw: drug use + nsfw
And yet she doesn't feel compelled to rush this, all of it occurring in a slow haze that leaves her more motivated to remain sprawling across his body while continuing to trade lazy kisses than initiate anything more than that right away. ]
You know I do. [ Her loosened lips might sink any chance she has at maintaining a fully innocent investment in his physique, but she'll never not appreciate what he looks like divested of that top layer, even if she knows he's consciously aware of those scars that adorn his body. As far as she's concerned, they only present places for her to deliberately lavish attention on, and she momentarily diverts to find a darker circle of tissue that no doubt represents an old bullet wound, gently pressing her lips to that spot.
But she arches into him when his fingertips press deeply against the curve of her back, maneuvering at the base of her spine and up closer to the back of her neck; she moans contentedly, breaths leaving her in a rising panting that ghosts over his beard until she nudges her nose to the center of his cheek. ] Ohhh, that feels good.
action; cw: drug use + nsfw
yet, it doesn't deter him from his own movements, index and thumb firm as it presses along either side of her nape, cascading down the borders of her spine to continue the tender massage that give rise to her moans, giving in to the sensation of it. ]
Yeah? [ he takes advantage of her vulnerable pause, the stretch of her neck in reach where he can dip his lips, parting them against the taut exposure of her throat. trailing south, his tongue traces a horizontal stripe to her clavicle, warm breath falling against the flush tones of her chest.
at the height of her breast, teeth nipping gently into the swell of that tender skin, he mutters in a low, whispered voice, ] Tell me what else feels good.
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So she doesn't shy away from touching him anywhere, and she welcomes his hands on her too, her own arms wrapping around him to keep him clutched flush against her while he mouths over the column of her throat; there are more clothes to take care of but it's a very distant goal as he murmurs across her skin.
Her arousal is rendered plain in the hard peaks that seem to strain for his attention as his lips hover nearer to them, and she responds by combing her fingers through his hair, nails lightly scratching against his scalp. She wouldn't shy away from doing it even if she was sober, but the high leaves her enjoying the amplified softness of those dark strands against her hand. ]
Th-that. [ She tucks her chin down to nudge her nose into that thick mass, lips moving against his forehead while she speaks. ] Your hands and your mouth being dirty, dirty partners-in-crime on me.
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because it's more than the high that encourages him to touch her now, the needy craving for the warmth of her something that's merely become innate, every press of a kiss a reminder of how she's bewitched him gradually through the months in needing her — physically, emotionally — every hint of resistance crumbling with ease.
he breathes a soft chuckle with her response, following a muttered hum that gets lost to her skin even as he attempts to speak against it. ] Didn't realize. [ it's meant to be a teasing retort, but it slips as a deep, sensual murmur, even more so when he follows it with a further decline of his parted mouth, the press of a slick tongue meeting a pointed, attentive peak.
his palms fall to her sides, high against her hips to hold her close still, thumbs massaging gradually inward as his lips provide a soft suction, the rumble of a moan low but evident from his throat. ]
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And if it were possible for her to melt then and there, she might, dissolving into his weight beneath her while any remaining resolve to simply tease him starts to crumble. ]
No? Not even — right now? [ She realizes he can't answer her, not with his mouth busy, and she doesn't even expect a verbal response, but the vibration of his sounds over her skin motivate her towards doing more to provoke similar noises, especially if she's in a position to reciprocate more physically.
Her hand slips between them, fingers wandering past a belt buckle and over a denim seam until she can palm what rises slightly adjacent, the heat of him emanating even through that thicker layer and the one beneath it; her fingers curve to offer an added press to that stroke, as she selfishly waits to hear that low moan that originates from somewhere deep in his chest. ]
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he only manages to pull his lips free when she guides her hand low between them, the boundary of denim not enough to keep away the satisfaction of that touch, his hips instinctively rising to maximize the pressure she's already applying. ]
Feels good. [ he mutters in a whisper with a partial smile, meant to parallel the earlier tease. but any playfulness attempted is instantly replaced with the aroused sounds she seeks to command, the contact of his kiss a lighter brush now that he becomes distracted with deep groans.
his fingers press harder at her hips, a tighter grip at her flesh that could potentially bruise if he keeps them there long enough. but they won't still, not as a set of them roam inward to undo the button of her jeans, the dip of his hand finding the hem of her underwear and slipping within, fingertips direct on her skin when they stroke between her legs. ]
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You can say that again. [ Another amused laugh becomes another softer whimper, and her knees slide to clutch at his hips when she faintly perceives his hand slipping beneath the waist of her jeans and beyond to touch her even more directly. ]
Oh God, that's cheating — [ Never mind that it's hardly that; she's not surprised he'd try to up the ante with a hand that nudges between her legs, and she's definitely not surprised by her ready response to him, the tilt of her hips and the need that leaves her slick to the touch. It's all she can do to remember her own objective, yanking his belt open with a little more strength than she intends, and her hand moves to work that final button open, but that's as far as she gets before his stroking stills her in a shuddering exhale. ]
You've still got too many clothes on.
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but he doesn't stop, working up those firm presses to coax that building urgency, right up until she tenses against him, breath shaky in the wind that breezes against them. ]
So do you. [ even if she's fully bare at the upper half of her body, there's still more to remove, and when he slips his fingers free, it's to instantly grip at her loosened jeans, only yanking them slight with the complex position. ] Get 'em off. [ however way she needs to maneuver for it. ]
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But finally, finally she relents, rolling off of him with a groan that precedes her stretching out across the truck bed next to him; she’s forced to bring her knees up towards her chest and perform a hasty shimmying movement to fully get rid of the rest of her clothes, kicking them off in a denim puddle before she throws out a hand to curve a grip in one half of his shirt. ]
C’mere.
[ Because whatever she said about enjoying the view from up above before, she wants him covering her in his weight now, his hips lowered to hers and her mouth finding his without any hesitation; she’ll wrap her legs around him as she tries to shove his open jeans down enough to clear the way, too impatient to wait otherwise. ] I want you like this.
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he doesn't hesitate, though, rolling his body to slide over her, finding that natural settlement above her and between her legs, lowering to find the natural progression of their meeting mouths.
she mutters her request to his lips and he sighs deeply, breath warm where he exchanges it with hers. ]
Wynonna. [ he whispers her name soft so that it's lost to her mouth, a strained noise following as he adjusts himself below, guiding his arousal to an already slick entry and kissing her amidst the gradual press. music still echoes softly from the radio and yet it isn't enough to disguise the soft rise of a low moan and panting breath. ]
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The fact that she's completely bared against his half-dressed state is sort of lost on her now; she's too far gone in this to care anyway, hair fanned out around her head in a dark spill of waves as she gazes up to him, finding his eyes in the moonlight.
And he's there before she can fully catch her breath, stealing the gasp that press of hips elicits with his own lips, swallowing that sound from her; she closes her eyes and loses herself in the sensation, rising warmth and slowly sated need and the syllables of her voice forged between their mouths.
But she won't rush him either, as he notches himself flush against her, her hands slipping beneath his shirt to roam over where he's bare beneath it, feeling the roll of his shoulders when they join; her eyes flutter open to find his face hovering right above hers and she nudges their noses together. ] God, I don't think I could ever get tired of this.
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and as urgent as she might have been to drag her to him, bypassing any need to even discard the rest of his clothing, there's still no rush to the sensations of simply basking in the connection, of gazing tenderly to one another as a melody plays softly near them, and their flush bodies provide them all the warmth they need to shield against the night's breeze.
his arm braces against the blanket beneath them, curving around her head to gently stroke at her hair, thumb brushing away messily tangled strands. ]
Good. [ it's such a quiet whisper, it could be mistaken for a mere breath as he grants her a gentle kiss, a soft gesture that comes with the slow roll of his hips, lazy movements for the moment that simply aim to feel her. ] Cause you're all I want.
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The truck bed provides enough of a barrier to shield them from a straight-on view, and if there's more of a chill in the air once the sun goes down, he covers her enough to keep her warm, the blankets beneath her recycling that heat brought on both by what they've inhaled and what they seek out now, sensations heightened by even the slightest movement.
She tilts her head into the touch of his hand, those fingers gliding through her hair while hers clutch at his shoulders in time with his hips; it's slow, maybe slower than she'd like if she was entirely sober but she's happy just to feel, relaxed beneath him while he moves, lips lazily finding his for those intermittent, grazing kisses. ] It's just you, you know. Only you.
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the only thing that occupies his mind is the slide of her lips, the way they can find a rhythm together no matter what the pace of their hips may be, whether urgency commands them as he expects it might soon, or whether it’s simply enough to be this close and simply let it last.
only you, and he can imagine that she deserves much better than that, and if this were any other moment, he’d argue that very fact. but he’s already debated it with her, and right now, it doesn’t matter. not as he rocks a little more firmly, draws himself back slow until he can glide back with ease, making himself flush on every roll so he can bury himself deep in her heat, the beat of her heart close to his own chest. ]
Only you. [ he repeats quietly, pressing his nose to her cheek as he picks up his pace, quiet grunts lost in every breath. ]
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They're a lot alike in that way, each firmly insistent that they don't need anyone else's protection but maybe knowing deep down that they're stronger when they're in each other's corner, that the threats of this town are less insurmountable when they're fighting side by side.
There's no haste, no intention to rush this now, the lazy slide of mouths mimicking the similarly unhurried rocking of bodies; she likes him this deep, the added grind offering a friction that she can feel in all the right places, and her fingers dig into his back a little more while she finally starts moving to meet him in a lift of her hips. ]
So good. [ She probably doesn't need to tell him that based on what he can hear in those breathless exhalations while she clings so tightly, but there's really no filter between her brain and her mouth right now and she's dangerously close to saying everything she's feeling in this moment, trying to find the right words to express this sense of safety and warmth and right — and she brings her lips to his again, kisses him before she can spout off and inadvertently ruin this somehow by saying something too soon. ]
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chaos thrives in this town, but wynonna supplies him with an odd kind of normal, someone to seek out when he tires, a face to find when he goes home, whether in early hours or the late ones. it’d been years since he’d had any of it, all of it snatched away in a single incident, and if anyone actually terrifies him in deerington, it isn’t the monsters, it isn’t the tricks, but the threat that he might just lose everything all over again.
that he’ll wake up tomorrow, and he’ll lose laura, and he’ll lose wynonna, all at once.
his body quivers a little, and credit could go to the remnants of the drug in his system, or the breeze of the night air, or even the overwhelming heat exchanged between them. but he kisses her harder then, not taking for granted that he has her here now, that whatever hell they might end up dealing with in the morning, they’ve still got this despite it. as he carries a firmer urgency in his thrusts, their lips don’t quite align as he moves, but he keeps their mouths close nonetheless, the whisper of her name there harsh and needy, as his palm clings a tight grip to her thigh, rocking into a harder grind. ]
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None of it would be possible, she thinks, without him here with her now; they'd showed up around the same time, and he's as much a piece of her existence here as the rest of it — the job at the bar, the farmhouse slowly being patched up to some degree of livability, the people she recognizes every time she goes to the diner who know her as Wynonna and not the heir, not the disaster, not the reckless liability with a tendency for running her mouth. Okay, maybe that last part isn't completely true; he's likely to call her out for her inability to shut up, moreso than anyone else here.
It should say something all on its own that she's fallen silent apart from those desperate sounds, soft enough for his hearing to pick up with him nestled this close to her — and she crests, contentedly, one minute cradled at the precipice of her release and the next tumbling right into it with a hard tremor of her hips and a series of gasps, the furrow in her brow smoothing out as her lips broaden into a smile.
But he's still moving over her, in her, and she keeps herself tight against him, wanting to bring him there to that edge right after her as his own motions prolong everything she's feeling, makes something in her chest swell simply from the intimacy of the moment, from hearing her name on his lips over and over, the only time he ever uses it like this. ]
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yet, somehow he’s been able to reclaim the name of frank castle here, seen as more than just the skull painted across his chest, even if he’s recognized that it holds a corner of his identity just as well. he’d never considered the idea of settling down in deerington for long term, not exactly —but there are certain parts of it that hold more reason to keep him around than going back to far less.
and as she tenses against him, the reflexive stutter of her body that clues him in on her pleasure, he urges himself only closer, parted mouth braced to her cheek as he holds her through the brink of it, lets her ride it out against the continued insistent press of his hips. she clings to him, everywhere and down below, and it’s encouragement to chase his release with her. a steady panting falls to her skin, and he grunts deeply when he finds it, hips thrusting harder still, as fingers smooth across her throat while he kisses her lips.
when it all comes crashing down, he remains where he is, moving little save for the dipping of his forehead to hers, breathing softly as he lets the shared warmth between them wash over him. ]
action; nsfw
If she is on some kind of timetable, if she isn't meant to be here past a certain date, she'll deal with it then, and she might be kidding herself if she thinks experiencing that severance won't break her a little in the process, won't add to the cracks that already exist around her heart, but she'll get through it the same way she always has, by learning to lean on the people around her.
He's that support for her here, will be until he can't anymore, and even if they've got an expiration date ahead of them she's not willing to think that far into the future; she's definitely not projecting herself outward beyond him and them and this in the right here and now, with him warm and solid above her and cradling her close, touching her like she deserves to have something good in her life.
And she's there to hold him too, when he finally empties into her, fingers smoothing over his skin as he brings their faces together; she's still catching her breath, doesn't have the words yet, but she doesn't necessarily need to in a moment like this one, when she feels like she's floating above herself and he's the only thing keeping her tethered to solid ground. She presses her mouth to his from behind closed eyes, once and then again, murmuring dreamily when she finally manages to speak. ] You're something else.
action; nsfw
still, she shakes his plans, always coats him with the unexpected, including the very feelings that he’s come to have for her, the longing to see her each and every day that he wakes up in this town, and the peace he finds in her lips when she kisses him soft as she does now.
with a sigh and a shiver that he faults the wind for her, he tucks his arm besides her head, fingers stroking her hair as he lingers against her, settling into the warmth and dreading the eventual need to withdraw.
at her voice, he laughs softly, quiet but with an affectionate sound. ] Yeah? Hope that’s a good something. [ holding his smile, he nudges his nose to hers softly. ] And you’re — [ everything, he thinks, the word right there on his tongue. ] — very naked.
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So often she’s worried about whether she’ll be too much for him to handle, but she wakes up almost every morning to the soft press of lips against her cheek and a quietly murmured goodbye, the hairs of his beard tickling her face before he departs the room in a series of creaking steps on the staircase, soon followed by the sound of the screen door clapping shut. He’s there, in every way she never anticipated, and try as she might to convince herself otherwise, he’s never shown signs that anything could prompt him to leave her side.
Her grin widens and she drifts back to herself, head lazily lolling against the blankets beneath them as she slowly comes back to where they are and what they’ve just been up to — and his shiver seems to pass on to her then, her thighs reflexively squeezing at his hips as she nuzzles into his nose. ]
Yeah, looks like I am. [ Good thing she’s got her clothes in easy reach, but dressing means sacrificing his weight on her and she doesn’t want to surrender it yet, her fingers a steady slide across his spine. ] This might actually be the craziest thing I’ve done in this damn truck, and that’s counting the time I accidentally rolled it.
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especially not in his current state, the air of the afterglow leaving him relaxed above her, even as he keeps a forearm steady to support his weight. but it’s the press of her hips and the tickle of her nose that keeps him close, postponing any need to separate themselves so soon. ]
Well, we’re going two for two on our vehicles. What do you say we hit up that bike of yours next? [ obviously, a joke. but he’s not exactly blind to this accidental trend they’ve begun to set, either. ]
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Eventually, she slides herself away from him with a soft hiss of breath once they're fully separated, but rather than reach for her clothes to get dressed right away she reaches out to grab the edge of one of the blankets covering the interior of the truck bed, curling it around herself in her best imitation of a human burrito. ]
Mmm. You jest, but there's something about the idea of doing it on that gorgeous blend of steel and leather that might just get my motor running all over again. [ She can't keep a straight face even while she's saying it, though, sinking her teeth into her lower lip in an attempt to stifle her smirk. ]
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