[It had taken weeks for her to kick off her shoes the first time. Perhaps that had been the first true sign after she'd knocked upon his door, beyond even sipping his whiskey and sharing meaningless stories about his past and hers. Naturally he'd taken note without commentary, realized that Peggy's heels had wound up under a chair while she relaxed--trusted him just enough to let that first brick in her walls crumble.
And now he can't remember the last Wednesday--or Thursday morning--when she was with him and didn't have to go scrounging for her shoes.
She doesn't simply follow, nor put on an air of reluctance; Peggy proves herself eager, willing to be with him, and that very notion threatens to overwhelm. It doesn't escape Rip that he hasn't been with her, or anyone, in well over a year. But unlike the first time, they aren't drunk; unlike the first time, now he's coming off months and months of isolation, where the thought of another human's touch was as hopeless an indulgence as belief they might somehow defeat Thawne and his foes.
But he's no longer trapped within that prison; Wonderland may have pulled him into a different cage, but it's one filled with life, a sweet floral fragrance, and the odd taste of her lipstick as it smudges against his mouth. The doubt may linger as she makes her choice, but Peggy's quick to banish it again in him; he doubts she knows it's even there when she sends them both crashing into his bed, him atop her, trapped by her all the same.]
I'm sure there are ways we can prevent that. [A promise sealed with lips pressed to Peggy's jaw before Rip nuzzles her chin upwards. Just as she had stopped herself from singing those certain words, clearly Rip would be unable to do more than hum should he keep his mouth suitably occupied. Yet as so often is the case, there's another reason he ceases the opportunity. Whatever he might say as thanks or preventative measures, in this way he is the one setting the pace. She needn't touch him for his pulse to flutter so much the same as hers when he closes his mouth on her skin; no, rather Rip fears being unable to endure it, to fall into the storm that is Peggy Carter when she craves.
It's a good showing, all meant to hide away just how terrified he is of finding himself as he had in her shower, unable to do anything more but sit while she scrubbed away the dredges of his world.]
thread is gonna get nsfw
And now he can't remember the last Wednesday--or Thursday morning--when she was with him and didn't have to go scrounging for her shoes.
She doesn't simply follow, nor put on an air of reluctance; Peggy proves herself eager, willing to be with him, and that very notion threatens to overwhelm. It doesn't escape Rip that he hasn't been with her, or anyone, in well over a year. But unlike the first time, they aren't drunk; unlike the first time, now he's coming off months and months of isolation, where the thought of another human's touch was as hopeless an indulgence as belief they might somehow defeat Thawne and his foes.
But he's no longer trapped within that prison; Wonderland may have pulled him into a different cage, but it's one filled with life, a sweet floral fragrance, and the odd taste of her lipstick as it smudges against his mouth. The doubt may linger as she makes her choice, but Peggy's quick to banish it again in him; he doubts she knows it's even there when she sends them both crashing into his bed, him atop her, trapped by her all the same.]
I'm sure there are ways we can prevent that. [A promise sealed with lips pressed to Peggy's jaw before Rip nuzzles her chin upwards. Just as she had stopped herself from singing those certain words, clearly Rip would be unable to do more than hum should he keep his mouth suitably occupied. Yet as so often is the case, there's another reason he ceases the opportunity. Whatever he might say as thanks or preventative measures, in this way he is the one setting the pace. She needn't touch him for his pulse to flutter so much the same as hers when he closes his mouth on her skin; no, rather Rip fears being unable to endure it, to fall into the storm that is Peggy Carter when she craves.
It's a good showing, all meant to hide away just how terrified he is of finding himself as he had in her shower, unable to do anything more but sit while she scrubbed away the dredges of his world.]