[ It's like she can barely leave her room without getting whammied by whatever this weird sexual energy is — which, in normal circumstances, wouldn't be that unwelcome, especially since before arriving on this ship she was having trouble remembering the last time she got laid. Well, before that fun ride in the front of a fire engine with a guy named Charlie, and even that had been kind of a happy accident considering her track record with getting it in on the regular. Here, though, it's like someone's cranked up the horny dial to fifteen and then left it on without any kind of shutoff mode, and Wynonna's only managed to get to her room after at least one inconvenient encounter and one spontaneous displacement into someone else's bed.
So yeah, right now she's not feeling like she might want to be social any time soon because that way could lead to having to ice her junk later, but she also managed to sequester herself in her quarters without any food, which is going to be a problem eventually when she starts getting hungry. Then again, there are food dispensers all over the ship. All she has to do is make her way to one, program a couple days' worth of meals, and get back before anything happens. Easy-peasy, right?
Trying to keep her head down is the plan here, but it becomes a dumber plan when she's leading with her head, rushing out of her room and barreling into something solid before she even gets two feet down the hallway. Only some miracle of balance keeps her from falling right on her ass, and she reaches out to grasp onto a firm set of upper arms to steady herself, swaying forward into the other person's space out of sheer momentum before she looks up into a familiarly roughened expression. ]
[ whenever this strange shit starts to kick in, that's when frank decides it's best to keep to himself. at least that's the general idea, except for the fact that it seems to be a regular occurrence daily where some kind of strange shit is happening, whether it's a glitch or getting stranded on a damn planet, and even if it wasn't happening, frank would probably still be trying to keep to himself.
he knows things are acting up the moment he wakes up one morning (or night? who the hell knows in space) with his cock stiffer than stiff within his shorts, and while he's plenty familiar with some natural morning wood, nothing about this felt exactly usual considering the feral need that seemingly took over. not that frank went looking for anyone to help take care of it, and while he's usually inclined to ignore the occasional subconscious erection, the desperation to get this handled had him breathlessly fucking into his hand until his knuckles were laced with come.
once he's taken a much needed shower, it begins to feel like it's eased off, like it's safe to head outside again, at least long enough for him to nab himself a good cup of coffee. he knows there's one just down the hall, a short walk away, but it's only a few moments after leaving his door, skin warm from the shower and hair still slightly damp, that she seems to come colliding right into him. ]
Jesus — [ he mutters, instinctively grabbing at her elbows to keep her steady from falling, eyes peering down with immediate recognition of who he's holding.
[ She's not tense so much as she is almost oversensitive, like whatever this is coursing through the ship has only contributed to making her nerve endings run on overdrive until even the slightest graze of fingers makes her nipples tighten and that familiar pulsing start between her legs. It's nothing she can even try to tamp down either, and so far she's been lucky enough, fortunate enough that the only people she's run into when she's felt like this have been people she's already done the deed with, which really removes the awkwardness from having to ask them to help her scratch this particular itch.
But Frank is... complicated, for more reasons than just the obvious, and it feels like they keep finding each other at the most inconvenient of times, only to end up tearing into one another in ways she's still left sore from days later. She'll swear up and down she hadn't been thinking about him earlier in the shower, fingers furiously rubbing between her legs until she'd come with a shuddered gasp, but she doesn't really know who she's fooling anymore or what the point is in trying to pretend otherwise.
Not that he needs to have the satisfaction of knowing he has a starring role in most of her sexual fantasies lately.
But it doesn't help to see him now, hair still damp from the shower; she can smell the soap on his skin and she's catapulted back to her own time beneath the hot spray, picturing his fingers inside her instead of her own, maybe his breath on her shoulder before he pulled them out to replace them with — ]
... hi. [ Smooth, Earp. She can't repress the smile, at least, a quick twitch upward at the edges of her mouth. ] You needed to grab some grub too, huh?
[ sometimes it feels like this ship is always pulling him right back to her, like there's more than coincidence that arranged their rooms to be side by side together, the effects all extending to when they find each other again and again on whatever planet they'd been stranded on for the week or the month. it's often enough that he shouldn't actually be surprised running into her now and yet he still is.
he doesn't even think as he lingers into stillness for a moment, the single word leaving him before his hands are merely just left holding at her elbows, thumbs stroking absentmindedly at her biceps, not sure if he's attempting to ease her from the almost stumble or if something else lures him to simply keep touching her. ]
Something like that. [ he says with a tight knit of his brow, like he's trying to remember why he's even here. ] Coffee.
[ the word leaves him a little deeper than it probably should, almost breathless as his eyes continue to peer down at her, at her lips, instinctively licking his own at the sight. ]
Don't you think that's just gonna keep you up all night?
[ The question leaves her in closer to a breathless rush, and she can't tell if it's brought on by his lingering proximity to her or the fact that his hands are still on her skin, thumbs gently sweeping back and forth against that bare stretch in a way that pulls her mind helplessly to exactly those points. She shifts, but not enough to move herself out of his hold, which is probably enough of a clear giveaway that she doesn't mind his touch on her — that she doesn't want to give it up now that she's got it.
It also doesn't help that she's still gripping his arms too, fingers clutching at his biceps before her palms enter the mix too, solidifying that hold until she can't even pretend she's just using him to keep herself upright anymore. That excuse disappeared the second his gaze fell to his mouth and she noticed, something inside her clenching when she catches a glimpse of his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips. ]
I mean. [ God, what had she meant? ] Unless you're just in the mood for something nice and hot.
[ he mutters the response almost automatically, not even entirely paying attention to it for the fact that everything else proves to be a lot more distracting. he knows that he shouldn't be touching her like he is, that he should really be respecting her personal space right now but he can't seem to withdraw his touch, almost as if magnetized, and it seems like she's not drawing back either.
and all of that in itself is a bad sign, particularly because he knows what's happened in the past when their hands couldn't restrain from touching one another.
as always, he stops thinking when he's with her, never sure if it's credited to something else or if it's just her and whatever damn effect she has when she shows up, like her presence is just a clear sign that shit's about to get fucked for him, one way or another — usually pretty literally.
but his fingers continue to slide along her skin, fingers dipping just slightly beneath the hem of her sleeves. ]
Maybe I do need something worth keeping me awake. Got any ideas? [ a terrible question to ask right now. ]
Not that you can even really tell when night is around here, since… the whole space thing.
[ God, she needs to quit while she’s ahead apparently, because every time she so much as opens her mouth around him she’s at risk for saying something completely idiotic. It doesn’t help either that they haven’t fully broken away from each other, and deep down she wonders if it’s more of whatever’s got everyone on this ship feeling hotter than normal — but a part of her thinks it might not even be that much, not when she hadn’t had that excuse to fall back on the other times she’d hauled him against her and relearned what his mouth tasted like.
Before she can even think about it, one of her hands has slid up to his shoulder, fingers stroking against the line between the collar of his shirt and the side of his neck, something soft and almost imperceptible as he poses the ask, and she doesn’t think she’s imagining the way his voice deepens when he says it either. ]
Maybe I’ve got something for you in there. [ She jerks her head back, a quick nod in the direction of her own room, only a few steps away from where they’re standing. It’s not the best line she could come up with, but she blames how he peers to her, the sheen on his lower lip from where he’d licked it, and how she wants to chase after it with her own tongue. ] How’s that idea sound to you?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
more filth event obviously;
So yeah, right now she's not feeling like she might want to be social any time soon because that way could lead to having to ice her junk later, but she also managed to sequester herself in her quarters without any food, which is going to be a problem eventually when she starts getting hungry. Then again, there are food dispensers all over the ship. All she has to do is make her way to one, program a couple days' worth of meals, and get back before anything happens. Easy-peasy, right?
Trying to keep her head down is the plan here, but it becomes a dumber plan when she's leading with her head, rushing out of her room and barreling into something solid before she even gets two feet down the hallway. Only some miracle of balance keeps her from falling right on her ass, and she reaches out to grasp onto a firm set of upper arms to steady herself, swaying forward into the other person's space out of sheer momentum before she looks up into a familiarly roughened expression. ]
Oh, fuck me.
no subject
he knows things are acting up the moment he wakes up one morning (or night? who the hell knows in space) with his cock stiffer than stiff within his shorts, and while he's plenty familiar with some natural morning wood, nothing about this felt exactly usual considering the feral need that seemingly took over. not that frank went looking for anyone to help take care of it, and while he's usually inclined to ignore the occasional subconscious erection, the desperation to get this handled had him breathlessly fucking into his hand until his knuckles were laced with come.
once he's taken a much needed shower, it begins to feel like it's eased off, like it's safe to head outside again, at least long enough for him to nab himself a good cup of coffee. he knows there's one just down the hall, a short walk away, but it's only a few moments after leaving his door, skin warm from the shower and hair still slightly damp, that she seems to come colliding right into him. ]
Jesus — [ he mutters, instinctively grabbing at her elbows to keep her steady from falling, eyes peering down with immediate recognition of who he's holding.
suddenly, everything feels warmer again. ] Hey.
no subject
But Frank is... complicated, for more reasons than just the obvious, and it feels like they keep finding each other at the most inconvenient of times, only to end up tearing into one another in ways she's still left sore from days later. She'll swear up and down she hadn't been thinking about him earlier in the shower, fingers furiously rubbing between her legs until she'd come with a shuddered gasp, but she doesn't really know who she's fooling anymore or what the point is in trying to pretend otherwise.
Not that he needs to have the satisfaction of knowing he has a starring role in most of her sexual fantasies lately.
But it doesn't help to see him now, hair still damp from the shower; she can smell the soap on his skin and she's catapulted back to her own time beneath the hot spray, picturing his fingers inside her instead of her own, maybe his breath on her shoulder before he pulled them out to replace them with — ]
... hi. [ Smooth, Earp. She can't repress the smile, at least, a quick twitch upward at the edges of her mouth. ] You needed to grab some grub too, huh?
no subject
he doesn't even think as he lingers into stillness for a moment, the single word leaving him before his hands are merely just left holding at her elbows, thumbs stroking absentmindedly at her biceps, not sure if he's attempting to ease her from the almost stumble or if something else lures him to simply keep touching her. ]
Something like that. [ he says with a tight knit of his brow, like he's trying to remember why he's even here. ] Coffee.
[ the word leaves him a little deeper than it probably should, almost breathless as his eyes continue to peer down at her, at her lips, instinctively licking his own at the sight. ]
no subject
[ The question leaves her in closer to a breathless rush, and she can't tell if it's brought on by his lingering proximity to her or the fact that his hands are still on her skin, thumbs gently sweeping back and forth against that bare stretch in a way that pulls her mind helplessly to exactly those points. She shifts, but not enough to move herself out of his hold, which is probably enough of a clear giveaway that she doesn't mind his touch on her — that she doesn't want to give it up now that she's got it.
It also doesn't help that she's still gripping his arms too, fingers clutching at his biceps before her palms enter the mix too, solidifying that hold until she can't even pretend she's just using him to keep herself upright anymore. That excuse disappeared the second his gaze fell to his mouth and she noticed, something inside her clenching when she catches a glimpse of his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips. ]
I mean. [ God, what had she meant? ] Unless you're just in the mood for something nice and hot.
no subject
[ he mutters the response almost automatically, not even entirely paying attention to it for the fact that everything else proves to be a lot more distracting. he knows that he shouldn't be touching her like he is, that he should really be respecting her personal space right now but he can't seem to withdraw his touch, almost as if magnetized, and it seems like she's not drawing back either.
and all of that in itself is a bad sign, particularly because he knows what's happened in the past when their hands couldn't restrain from touching one another.
as always, he stops thinking when he's with her, never sure if it's credited to something else or if it's just her and whatever damn effect she has when she shows up, like her presence is just a clear sign that shit's about to get fucked for him, one way or another — usually pretty literally.
but his fingers continue to slide along her skin, fingers dipping just slightly beneath the hem of her sleeves. ]
Maybe I do need something worth keeping me awake. Got any ideas? [ a terrible question to ask right now. ]
no subject
[ God, she needs to quit while she’s ahead apparently, because every time she so much as opens her mouth around him she’s at risk for saying something completely idiotic. It doesn’t help either that they haven’t fully broken away from each other, and deep down she wonders if it’s more of whatever’s got everyone on this ship feeling hotter than normal — but a part of her thinks it might not even be that much, not when she hadn’t had that excuse to fall back on the other times she’d hauled him against her and relearned what his mouth tasted like.
Before she can even think about it, one of her hands has slid up to his shoulder, fingers stroking against the line between the collar of his shirt and the side of his neck, something soft and almost imperceptible as he poses the ask, and she doesn’t think she’s imagining the way his voice deepens when he says it either. ]
Maybe I’ve got something for you in there. [ She jerks her head back, a quick nod in the direction of her own room, only a few steps away from where they’re standing. It’s not the best line she could come up with, but she blames how he peers to her, the sheen on his lower lip from where he’d licked it, and how she wants to chase after it with her own tongue. ] How’s that idea sound to you?