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

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. ]

[ for a brief moment, peggy appears as though she's trying not to laugh. comfortable is a word so very far away from any adjective she'd use to describe her current circumstances; however, it's not as though she's uncomfortable either. there's a pleasant anticipatory tension tight through her stomach, her guts, her very core.

she feels like a trap waiting to be sprung.

instead of answering his question, she whispers an offer his ear with hot, fluttering breath: ] Slip another finger in.

[ the command coincides with the rakish, perfunctory way she tugs his sleep pants down to his mid thigh—springing his cock free so all it takes is a flicker of her gaze downward to get a good, detailed glimpse.

fucking hell. she muffles the words against the muscle of his chest. ]

[ steve seems to be on the verge of asking another question, of saying something else, but it's all quickly forgotten when she voices her instruction and instead of following it, he stammers her name, the vowel and sounds when she tugs his pants down and looks at him. she's yet to touch him and already his senses are reeling.

He takes a breath, however and holds her gaze while easing a second finger alongside the first, testing the angle and the depth. It's a wonderful fit. He can't help but think how he'd fit inside, and the thought makes him hiss. ]

[ her next gasp hitches, snagging somewhere in the depths of her throat, and her body seems to leap forward under this new addition. inside, walls tighten and constrict against his fingers—involuntary and eager.

as she rolls toward the lovely sensation, her teeth graze his skin just left of centre of his pectoral muscle. a little less gentle than she'd intended to be, but some reactions can't be helped.

lower, her fingers flex aimless in the air as though trying to decide how (exactly) to grant herself this first touch. in the end, she settles on pressing a single fingertip near the base of his cock and tracing the underseam up, up, up, until she gently tap the head.

the gesture is borderline playful. ]

[ he nearly slips and loses balance twice. Once, when her wet kisses almost turn into a bite and the sharp sensation is amazing, it's incredible, he tightens his hold of her and tries to keep still. But then she touches him, swift and teasing and Steve stills his fingers inside her and breathes her name, beckoned by swearing and then - her name again. ]

Jesus, Peg.

[ he's never imagined so little will amount to feeling so much. ]

[ it's all so very gratifying. her slow, tentative stroke allows her to take his stock: the length, the girth, the way he twitches in her hand with the occasional responsive throb. peggy wraps her fingers around steve's cock and uses her thumb pad to trace slow, light circles on his head.

except his fingers fall stationary. her body raises just a little, seeking out movement, and when she speaks it's less like an order and more like a plea. ]

...Don't stop.

Right.

[ he has stopped, hasn't he? But her fingers are doing such wondrous things to him, when her thumb braces just there, his knees feel a little weak. He remembers, after a moment, to move his fingers again, just a little quicker, just to make her muscle tighten just a bit. It all felt more than a little delicious a few moments ago. ]

Then you go faster.

[ Quid pro quo ]

[ faster, he says. it sounds like a request and a challenge rolled into one. and it sounds damnably sweet when said in conjunction with the way his fingers resume. just enough, just enough, but oh she wants more.

with a longing-filled sigh, she eases off the desk's edge and (by some miracle) finds her feet. her bare toes curl against the wooden floor. her body squirms in place, adjusting against his fingers still as she stands—unwilling to lose his touch buried in her cunt.

even so, she risks it while she walks him back against the bedroom wall. once she has him pressed against the panelling, she does as asked. she jerks him quicker, firmer, a little more spirited. she leans her forearm against his chest just to keep herself steady. ]

I'll give you faster, alright.

[ she's fierce; God, is she ever. She measures him without trouble, leaves him shivering and groaning once his back meets the wall. She's not gentle. Steve had tried not to think of her in that manner - and though he failed miserably, nothing he's fantasised prepared him to this - to her taking what she wants.

He remembers to finger her properly, deep and fast but maintaining a pace is troublesome when every second stroke has him arching his hips, when her hand is moist with precum. ]

God damn, Peg.

[ it's a messy, clumsy moment. each of them toy and tease and feel the toil in the delicate muscles of their wrists—her more than him, perhaps, given how the serum must work on even the smallest scale. peggy stands just off-centre from his body, tugging still.

her arm bars across his chest, pretending like she could pin him there for good. and why not? a bit of imagination can go a long, long way.

as she strokes him, she confesses: ] You're bigger than I thought you'd be.

[ and she'd already expected big. ]

[ he can hear his heart thumping in his ears. It's the quick movements of her hand, slick and warm around his cock and the confession she easily makes and she holds him back, the way she commands the moment - it makes steve adore her, makes him putty in her hands. He shivers, he sighs, he knows he's getting close. Still, he has to ask, he has to know - ]

You thought about this??

[ he has, of course. and he has assumed she has thought about him but he has never dared to imagine she'd imagine this. ]

ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛ 2019-2020 ( ɢᴇɴ + sᴍᴜᴛ )

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