encompass | ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛ 2019-2020 ( ɢᴇɴ + sᴍᴜᴛ )

[ this fresh new movement allows his to shift his hand, palm splayed over her skirt, thumb touching her stockings. They're soft, he can't help but wonder what her skin feels like beneath. ]

Only a little.

[ he's waited until now. Surely he can wait a little longer. ]

[ bloody hell, but they're really doing this. their words outline a scenario quite different to the one at hand. the shave might as well be an afterthought, no matter how much steadiness she still must pour into her hand just to get the job done.

he's not helping, however, and peggy makes it clear in a breathy complaint: ]

...You've got to move that thumb.

[ and before he (wilfully) misunderstands: ]

Away.

[ he's making her hand tremble. ]

[ aha, there it is. He's been waiting for a sign that she's as affected as he us. Her next order is a sure proof and so it's easy to obey. He drags his thumb up her stocking and over her skirt, it's a small touch that holds many promises. He doesn't ask her why. ]

Like this?

[ there is nothing safe about the way his touch drags up, off her thigh, and onto her skirted hip. so peggy presses her mouth into a hard line and...with a good three strokes of steve's stubble still left on his face, she leans back and drops her razor hand onto her knee. the sharp edge sits loose in the air—waiting. ]

I mean it.

[ she meets his eye. ]

This will all be a bit disappointing if everything gets detoured by a shallow cut.

I'm with you.

[ well, he is. He wouldn't have minded a shallow cut if he hadn'f suspected she would. As it is, his hold of her is light and steady again, no finger out of place. ]

Yes ma'am. Go on.

[ he can be good for her for a little while longer. ]

[ good. it's so hard to rile him up, she thinks, if he doesn't follow some basic rules to make the riling that much more satisfying. she's got to set a boundary or three.

peggy leans back in—likely half-intentional in the way she half-grinds against his body just to reach these last few strokes. and because he's being so good, so obedient, she thought she might as well drop a pearl of intel upon him. ]

I've noticed you looking. All day. [ she tucks thumb under his chin and turns his head to display the opposite cheek. ] And, yes, I am wearing one of the sets you left in my closet last night.

It took me a while to realize. At first, I only knew something was different. Drove me up the wall. I've been trying to figure out what if was during breakfast.

[ if she's going to be honest, then he might as well confess, too. ]

It took me about an hour. You look different. Somethin' that's difficult to explain.

[ but it's easier to try than to focus on the fact she's actually wearing one of the sets. perhaps it's better this way, he did promise her to be careful. ]

[ she likes this joint confession. this laying bare of both their minor indulgences, today, that are bound to lead them both to bigger ones. god. she hasn't even kissed him, yet or recently, and here she is practically rocking herself into his lap. talking about her knickers.

as good as telling him that she won't suffer a mistake, cutting him, because it'll interrupt whatever other mischief they might get up to. ]

What finally gave it away?

[ she asks, greedily driving at the heart of how he'd looked at her an where his eyes had drifted. as she does, she pulls the blade down the second-to-last strip of shaving cream. ]

When you were leaning back in the garden. The er - the outline beneath your shirt was different.

[ he won't easily say the word 'bra' even if he is willing to admit he looked at her breasts. ]

I put two and two together.

I never realized you paid such close attention to my...outlines.

[ she lies. but it's an obvious, clear lie. the kind she tells with a minor smirk on her lips as she finishes up the last bit of actual shaving. there's still a messy smear of cream along his jaw, down his throat, bits that had sloughed off as she worked. and despite her earlier chiding, by straddling him now she's damn well got the excess on her stockings from where her leg has rubbed against his. ]

I'll admit it's quality stuff.

[ the silk, the underwear, the all of it. she reaches for a towel and scrubs him clean. ]

I try not to.

[ now he's the one who's on defense. Only that he's really tried to avoid looking at her, well, outlines, if only out of respect. A big part of Peggy's appeal is her headstrong personality and her sense of humor, not only her physical appearance.

Steve has been trying to focus on that. It hasn't wholly worked. ]

How can you tell? the fabric?

The fabric. [ she concedes. ] The stitching. And the way it sits and holds and supports.

[ a few words more (she thinks) than she ought to be saying to anyone about the state of her underthings. peggy dabs the wadded up towel on his chin and then, job done, she drops it into her lap. her arms reach our and rest loose on his shoulders. ]

[ He waits as she cleans the last bits of shaving cream, sitting as still as he's done throughout her careful work thus far. The moment she's done, the moment when she leans against him, he allows one palm to splay at the small of her back. ]

Hi.

[ he smiles at her, happy and utterly in love. ]

So, what's the verdict? Better?

[ the stubble, that is. ]

[ peg grazes an open palm up from his bare shoulder, across his neck, and along the line of his jaw. with her fingertips she feels the freshly shaved skin.

quite despite herself, she smiles. ]

Much.

[ and she doesn't even tell him off for having his hand on her back. ]

[ she smiles and up close, steve can see the dimples again. It's what finally does him in. He leans in, just a little, forehead resting against hers. His hold on her tightens. ]

You drive me crazy, you know that.

[ it's both amused and utterly fond. He almost says something else but decides it might already be obvious, it might already be present between him and her in this moment, in so many that came before. ]

[ certainly it's tough to mistake his interest when, for the past grip of time, she'd been practically pressed into his lap. there's been so very little accidental about how she proceeded from the very moment he implored her to "teach" him how to shave with a straight-edge razor.

he's so near, now, that it's hard to focus on just one eye. ]

It's been entirely intentional. [ she's pleased to confess. ] Well, the past twenty minutes were. At any rate.

Are you kidding? You've been driving crazy since the day you punched that poor sucker back at Leigh.

[ since the first time he's laid eyes on her, then. ]

Hasn't stopped since.

[ he moves a hand to her cheek a moment before he kisses her, short and sweet. ]

[ one kiss (it seems) is enough to unlock a lifetime of yearning. what steve instigates shortly and sweetly quickly morphs into something else. peggy's hand tightens on his bare shoulder, grabbing at skin, before her head dips and she steals a second, a third, a fourth kiss. each one a little hotter and hungrier than the last.

...far, far nearer the sort of kiss she'd taken before she'd lost him. it seems that peggy doesn't do anything by halves. ]

[ steve whispers her name between kisses. Her intensity fuels his, he moves a hand to her hair, parts his lips and sucks a bit of red from her bottom lip. It escalates in seconds; Steve rubs her leg through her stockings, nudging her closer and properly into his arms. ]

[ by this point, she might as well wrap a leg around the back of his chair—so wholly and completely has she turned his lap into her throne. peggy's fingers skate and dance along his chest, grabbing whenever she finds a plane of muscle meaty enough to dig into.

words continue to escape her. actions always did speak louder, at any rate, and she aims to deafen them both with the way she nips at his mouth and drags her kisses across his freshly shaved jaw. peggy finds his neck and nuzzles, body rocking against him just to reach the hollowed space behind his ear. ]

Peggy.

[ it seems like she's everywhere all at the same time. He feels it all at once, her lips, her finger nails, the warmth of her body against his. He holds her close and gasps when she rocks against him. It's a lot, it's almost too much. He scoots back only a little. ]

Sorry. I just - I've never -

[ he looks a little sheepish. This really isn't how he planned to tell her, and yet. ]

[ she could get drunk on his reactions: the sound of her name on his tongue; the way he gasps; the endearing way he jumps like he's been burned. peggy offers mercy in the way she pauses—stilling her palms against his chest and sitting, stationary, for just a moment.

she draws back and looks him in his eyes. ]

I'd often suspected as much.

[ plain english. this time, she doesn't compel him to finish his sentences or spill his secrets. ]

Do you—? [ she hums, stops, tries again. ] We can put a pin in this. If you like. Save it for another time.

[ she's an impatient creature, yes, but that doesn't mean she wants to rush him. ]

No. No more pins.

[ he has no intention of ever putting off anything that has to do with her ever again. Especially not this, not when he's been thinking of her like this for weeks now. ]

I want you. Only - you'll have to show me.

[ how. ]

[ —oh, how sorely tempted she is to have him ask her. but she can be merciful and generous, from time to time, and peggy leans back only so far as letting her hands rest on his thighs would allow her. ]

You'll have to bear with me. [ she half-teases. ] Because it's been a while.

[ since she's been with anyone. and even then, that someone had left an awful lot to be desired when it came to attentiveness and enthusiasm in the bedroom. not that she and fred ever quite made it to a bedroom—they were engaged but unmarried and living in army housing. they took what opportunities they could, but they never quite lasted long enough to satisfy her.

peggy watches him. her eyes are bright and curious. ]

Why don't you unbutton my top.

[ she suggests. after all this talk of undergarments, she supposes he's due a view. ]

[ her lipstick is a mess and Steve decides he likes it like it. He touches the corner of her mouth, brushing off some red pigment, utterly fascinated.

And then she makes her offer and while his cheeks flush, his fingers are steady. He goes through each button, slowly and carefully. When he dares to nudge her blouse aside, he mutters a soft damn. ]

It fits you like a glove.

[ and he's a bit agitated at Stark now. How the hell does he even know her size? ]

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