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

[ for a moment, he only watches her. He watches the deep brown of hr eyes, the curve of her smile, the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the way her feet rest on the chair. She's beautiful. His fingers start moving again once the moment passes, slow and curious. It's a trial and error, some things stir a reaction, others don't. It's only a matter of watching and learning. ]

I guess it can teach us a lesson.

[ she fights to maintain even the barest scrap of her composure. firm and poised through her spine, she sits on the desk's edge as naturally and normally as if it were a proper chair. and a funny think happens down between their bodies, down where his touch meets her flesh, and peggy must silently admit that there's an alluring quality to his experimenting. his exploring. like he doesn't quite know where or or how to proceed, but he's so eager to test and try and tease out an answer.

and, warm and involuntary, her body does indeed answer. peggy can't quite suppress a shiver—nor the way her muscles seem to contract a twinge under his fingers. she breathes in long and audible through her nose and her grip on his arm turns to a back-raking of her fingernails up, up, up to her elbow.

the moment seems to hang there—unchanged—for a good minute while they look into each other's eyes and run all kinds of personal calculus. and then peggy makes her move, grabbing at his hip, his backside, tugging on him and his slip pants until she pulls him close. the height differential doesn't let her reach his mouth, but she does lean in and kiss his chest.

she tastes his skin. ]

[ being able to see what his doing, fingers caressing and circling, gathering wetness, is making it difficult to remain composed. Steve's cock feels impossibly hard when she shivers as the sound between them grows wetter. And then she pulls him against her and he can feel her wetness on his pants.

Her lips and tongue are hot. Steve rubs against her, sighing. His fingers are wet; curious, he sucks on them, familiarising himself with her scent and taste. ]

[ —good god, he just about floors her when she realizes exactly why he's sucking on his fingers. tasting her, sampling her, acclimatizing his senses. the thought and proof both send another jolt of lightning through her body. more than that, she can feel him hard, eager, pressed into the cleft between her thighs and it's all she can do not to rub back. ]

It feels like you might also be in need of a little help.

[ her fingers dance across his hip, the waistband of his sleep pants, and she teases the thought of pulling them down. ]

[ it's interesting - he loves visuals, it shows in his interest of art, it shows in the way his eyes followed her when he did the most basic things ( agent carter, tying the laces of her combat boots, agent carter assembling a weapon, all oddly alluring, all fascinating ), but visuals seem to work on her too. Steve can see it in the way her eyes follow his fingers as he works them out of his mouth and back between them, just as she reaches for him. ]

can you blame me?

[ he smiles, wraps an arm around her, keeping her in place, an intimate embrace. ]

[ she could blame him for a lot of things. namely, for the reason why they're in this daringly wonderful situation to begin with. blame his hearing, his senses, his bold choice to knock on her door and ask her through the wood whether she wanted him inside.

—god, heaven above, yes, she wants him inside. a hundred thoughts go spiralling out of control as she hugs him close. her breath leaves her lungs with one long sigh, emptying her out, before she kisses the plane of his chest once more.

and realizes she hasn't even managed to kiss him properly. yet. ]

Steve. [ she exhales his name. ] I can think of one bit of blame I could assign to you.

Yeah?

[ he squeaks the very word the moments her lips find his skin again, the sound morphs into a gasp. They stay locked like this, Steve's fingers probing between her legs, discovering and mapping, exploring and taking mental notes of where she seems to be especially sensitive.

it feels like every inch of him is sensitive, as far as she's concerned. he shudders every time she says his name, steve, she breathes and he's gone for her, utterly gone. ]

Which is it?

[ it's like he's got his fingertips wrapped around fine little strings all trailing off to other deep wells of sensation somewhere in her body. he flicks his finger down between her legs and she swears that colours explode in the back of her thoughts.

her thighs tighten—like a primal effort to keep his touch exactly where it is. locking him in with heat and wet and loveliness. ]

I need to kiss you.

[ she leaves his fingers be but otherwise hauls him down to her level and slots her mouth against his—tasting what he'd tasted, burying her tongue behind his teeth and taking a swipe at his. ]

[ peggy isn't gentle and it's the most wonderful thing. He never thought she would be, she's frank and she's straightforward. But when she applies it here and now, letting him know what she wants and needs, it makes him bend down the moment she pulls him near and hell, their kiss is deep, his moans vibrate between them, lost against her lips. ]

Peggy.

[ he smiles, he's so very much in love with her. ]

[ her palm glances up his arm, his elbow, his shoulder. she holds on tight and seems to almost hyper-extend her back just to lose herself in his kiss. she swallows up every moan, every sound, and feeds them back two-fold.

—kissing him brings back memories. car exhaust and jet fuel burning. theirs had been a farewell kiss, back then, but now they're inaugurating something else. something new. something built to last. ]

Mmn, yeah?

[ she responds to her name, cheek turning to press against his while she catches her breath. ]

We should have done this weeks ago.

[ he doesn't know why they haven't, doesn't know how he'll ever stop doing it anytime again. It's just that suddenly he gets to touch and kiss and hold and everything he's wanted to do for such a long time. It's a relief, it's bliss. ]

weeks ago, Peggy.

[ god knows he's wanted her, turns out the feeling was mutual. ]

[ she exhales a soft, almost mournful note of agreement. he's not wrong. they could have popped this lid the day he got back. the day he thawed. or—at the very least—the day after. ]

Perhaps. Doesn't change the fact that we've both got a job to do while we're here.

We do.

[ but he might not be referring to the same duty she does. He's too busy kissing the edge of her mouth, caressing her where she's warm and wet and sensitive. When he finds a spot that makes her switch, he focuses on it, watching her with open interest. ]

We have a lot to do.

[ but is he talking about reports? probably not. ]

[ —she swallows her next few words. they tumble inward with a slight gasp as his fingers briefly, briefly, briefly overcome her and force her hands down to her side. she grabs the edge of the desk and allows herself to squirm and rut back against his touch. it's damned novel to feel someone else toying with her cunt. novel and lovely. because it's him.

because she's wanted this since before he was lost. ]

Seriously, Steve. [ but the hitch in her voice doesn't sound all that dire. ] I've got heaps more data to collect.

You do.

[ but her gasps are delicious, the way her hips inch towards his fingers is exquisite. He presses right there, caressing her lovingly back and forth as she tells him all about work and data. ]

You're collecting right now.

I strongly suspect...

[ her words trail off into a second, sultry sigh. peggy spreads her palms against her desk and steadies herself. it's without rhythm, and it happens only once in a while, but her whole body seems to occasionally pump forward in search of something.

in search of him. ]

...that I'm not the one doing the data collection just now.

Well.

[ he watches her, tries to understand what she needs without asking. Her hips lurch towards him and steve knows something is missing. He remembers the delicious wet sound from before and lowers a finger to where she's warm and wet, circling her opening. ]

Maybe not just now.

[ oh. her chin tilts up and she eyes the ceiling of her room with a kind of dizzied impatience. had she telegraphed her desire so easily, so wholly? peggy realizes her own body clearly can't be trusted with the burden of discretion.

in a rough, clumsy bid to haul back a little control: ]

Go on. Do it.

[ she bids him, commands him, orders him to make good on the promise his circling fingertip makes. ]

[ her instruction is simple and clear and steve nods but takes another moment to feel her shift and shiver before he eases his finger inside, to the first knuckle.

He licks his lips. She's soft and tight and when he draws his finger out, he hears the familiar wet sound from before.

So that's what she needed. ]

[ the effect of his gesture isn't abrupt. nor is it particularly measurable, except in the way her eyes flutter closed and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip. her muscles bear down but briefly in an effort to chase that same sensation. surprised by just how good he feels, she puffs a little: ]

Oh.

[ followed by thin disgruntled hum when she can't feel him any longer. ]

[ he had meant to ask her if it's alright but the unhappy sound she makes is an indication that maybe pulling out wasn't what she wanted.

Curiously, he moves his finger inside once more, shallow and slow and eases it back and then inside once more.

He looks at her, waiting for her verdict. ]

[ it's so little and yet it's still too much. these little seesaw motions send her swaying like a pendulum. peggy feels she must grab at his shoulders just to steady herself where she sits, fighting the urge to fall back against the desk and drift away on these minuscule movements.

she grits a quiet sound through her teeth: a wayward, fragmenting nnn noise. and then she wraps a hand along the nape of his neck and drags him down, down, down until she's buried his mouth against her throat. ]

[ he seems to have found his even keel. She tugs him close and steve peppers kisses along her collarbone, stopping every now and then to suck a fiercer one, just shy of leaving a mark in his wake.

After a heartbeat or to, he dares ease his finger deeper, though the rhythm is still terribly slow. ]

[ —she's torn between two instincts. the first is to urge him onward (faster, deeper, more!) and the second is to bide her time and enjoy what his curiosity offers. his quiet daring is a force onto itself, knocking air out of her lungs when he plunges just a bit further inside. and all with one finger.

it inspires her to continue an exploration of her own. she snakes a hand down to his sleep pants once again, plucking at the waistband and grasping him through the fabric. ]

[ it's so intimate, the way they embrace, this exchange of pleasure. He touches her and in seconds, she wraps her fingers around him and even through the soft fabric of his pants, it's a lot, it makes him sigh her name and drop his head against her shoulder.

Already, he's breathless. ]

Are you comfortable?

[ she's straining her muscles, accommodating him like this, between her thighs. ]

ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛ 2019-2020 ( ɢᴇɴ + sᴍᴜᴛ )

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