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WHO: Peggy Carter
WHERE: Peggy & Stella's Home
WHEN: June 10th Weekend
OPEN TO: Stella Gibson
WARNINGS: Adult content likely within

She's not sure what it is that broke the camel's back (so to speak), but one evening, Peggy returns back to her shared house with Stella feeling tense and tight, having seen a few couples in her daily rounds, and rather than feeling content for them, there's an envy within her that she thought she'd dealt with. It takes another day before Peggy realizes with a sharp pang that it's not a relationship that she's envious of. It's the ghost of touch that she's missing. It would be unladylike to admit how long it's been, but half a decade is a generous answer.

That is absolutely ridiculous, though she doesn't precisely know how to change that. She's hardly the sort of woman who would feel comfortable draping herself across some poor person's doorway to announce that she demands to be held (it sounds even more ridiculous when she puts it like that). Eventually, she concedes that she might be defeated in this respect.

She can take down a counter-spy organization, she can dismantle bombs, she can clock a man and interrogate Russian spies. Where she lacks experience is in this. Luckily, she lives with someone who's far better than this than she. Heading back home, Peggy knows this will likely be an awkward topic, but at the same time, it's been long enough.

"Stella, I'm home," Peggy calls out, shifting the food in her arms. "I've brought some berries and the dried meat from the latest batch."

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Peggy reminds herself that no matter what happens, Stella knows what she's doing. She's made a habit of surrounding herself with people that do, and Peggy finds herself rather flushed and yet, utterly pleased, seeing as when Stella takes her hand, this isn't just the friendly reassurance that she's grown used to.

It's so much more, which makes her fine hairs stand on end as she leans into the touch, eyes falling shut due to the need singing through her, making her want so much more.

Even Stella's words make her feel a little weak, like she might collapse into the touch, but lucky for Peggy, they're starting where she knows how to operate. It's not aggressive like Dottie, desperate like Steve, and not even yearning like Daniel.

It's a sweet thing and Peggy shifts a little into Stella's space, a knee close to Stella's thighs as she positions herself in a higher sit, only so she can sink down into a loose straddle of her knee, letting out a relieved sound into the kiss.

As Peggy leans into her, Stella slides her hand from her cheek around to the back of her neck; and as the other woman repositions herself to get further into Stella's personal space, Stella puts her other hand on the small of her back, just to encourage her to get exactly as close as she wants to. She's not shy about this in the least, and doesn't see any reason why she ought to be. She tilts her head to get a better angle on the kiss and oh, it's such a relief. Peggy's not the only one who's been feeling deprived of this. It's been a long while since the last time she was with anyone, and longer still than that since the last time she was with a woman, and she badly missed this.

Now she's sort of wondering why they didn't do this sooner. Stella gives a low, encouraging hum in the back of her throat, and kisses Peggy a little harder, daring a soft nip at her lower lip to gauge her reaction. She's savoring this and wanting more all at the same time, and has to remind herself they've no need to rush.

Peggy doesn't want to appear too hungry and desperate, because she has the feeling that it might come off poorly, if that's the case. Still, at the same time, she's not willing to give a single inch, not now that Stella has let her in so willingly, which is why she's happy to push back and give into the kiss.

Parting her lips, Peggy wraps her arms around Stella's neck, her fingers lightly draped over her back, and her hair starting to fall loosely over her forehead, though she knows that it's not going to get any better.

From here on out, it's only worse, but she actually adores the notion.

They kiss like that for a long while, and when they finally have to break apart for oxygen Stella realizes she is in fact somewhat breathless. When was the last time anyone kissed her breathless? Fuck, this is fantastic.

She lingers close as she catches her breath, stroking her fingertips up along the length of Peggy's spine, just for the sake of touch. Stella gives a little laugh, just a soft, half-breathed sound of pleasure. Part of her wants to tell Peggy exactly how long she's thought about doing this — or, probably more accurately, how long she's been trying not to think about doing this — but that seems as if it would be too confessional.

She settles for another kiss instead, soft and brief. "I think," she says, "maybe we ought to think about going somewhere more comfortable."

Somehow, she doubts Peggy really wants to do this on the sofa. Stella wouldn't mind, but honestly, there's a reason beds are ideal for this sort of thing.

Peggy runs a hand through her hair to adjust it out of her eyes when they break apart, simply to give herself some of her dignity back, though maybe it's all right to fall apart with only Stella here to watch. Maybe that's what trusting someone is for.

Her back arches into the touch, pressing her chest forward against Stella's. She thinks ruefully that she hadn't really prepared for this and that she's not wearing a decent bra, but at this point, beggars can't be choosers.

"Lucky for us, there happens to be two close by," she quips, and they're both quite comfortable. "Shall we?"

Peggy's hair will be rather more in disarray when they're done, but Stella thinks that's a good sign. It'll mean they'll have done this right.

"Come on, then," she says, standing up when Peggy's given her room to do so and reaching for her hand, leading them to her own bedroom by default. She's thinking the same thing, that if they'd planned this she would have worn her good underwear — but oh well. As much as Stella would like to, she can't always plan for everything. She certainly didn't expect to be doing this when she got up this morning.

When they've reached the bedroom, a matter of a few steps from the living room, she leans back in to kiss Peggy — her neck, this time, starting from beneath the hinge of her jaw and kissing down to her throat, just for the sake of tasting her skin. Memorizing her in the event that they don't manage to do this again. Her hands seek out the edges of Peggy's shirt, sliding just beneath to stroke her bare skin. "May I?" she asks, and given the position of her hands and the way she tugs lightly on Peggy's top a moment later it's probably obvious what she means. She doesn't normally ask if it's all right to undress someone, but she thinks maybe Peggy would like to be asked. Stella's already a little impatient to have the clothing out of the way.

Peggy's a touch wobbly on her feet, but only because her body is so unused to feeling this much pleasure at one time. Honestly, it's so overwhelmingly incredible and she doesn't want it to stop in any way, which is why the kisses to her neck make her shiver so, but when Stella asks of her shirts, Peggy's breath inhales sharply.

Stella's seen her without to help mend her, so she's seen her scars. The rebar wound that's healed over, her bullet wounds in her shoulder. Nodding, though, she's more than happy to let Stella take the lead. After all, this is what she had wanted.

"Please do," she agrees, voice hoarse and low. At least in this department, Peggy knows she's quite impressive, as she's never heard any complaints about her figure.

Peggy’s desire is an incredible turn-on, honestly, and the rough needy edge on her voice makes Stella’s pulse quicken. She doesn’t at all mind leading here, given she’s used to it; she urges the garment off over Peggy’s head, and then just stops for a moment to get a good look at her. It’s true there’s nothing here she hasn’t seen before, but the context of this is totally different.

She doesn’t say you’re beautiful out loud, because she thinks Peggy has probably heard that plenty of times, but her gaze is appreciative and her touch is soft and warm as she runs her hands up Peggy’s sides and leans in to kiss her again. Eventually her hand strokes downwards again, fingers toying with the waistband of the other woman’s trousers but not quite yet moving to take them off. She might be teasing, just a little.

Peggy steps forward as soon as the shirt is off, eager to be moving this along, even if she has absolutely no idea what the next proper step in any of this is. Still, it's easy enough to lean into the kiss, her fingers sliding over Stella's neck when the touch moves to her trousers.

"I feel as if I'm not prepared at all for this," she murmurs, right into Stella's kiss, her eyes still shut. She'll enjoy properly later, but for now, she likes living in this heady space where everything seems so dreamlike and wondrous and somehow, not-real.

There's a surreal air to all of this that makes Stella, too, wonder if she's having an especially vivid erotic dream. Of course, she's not; this is real, insofar as anything that happens here is real. She just never imagined she'd be doing this with Peggy, of all people, who is a dear friend and someone she's admired for a long time. They're not going to fall headlong into a torrid romance, not least because neither of them is looking for that — but there is affection, and trust, and it's good.

"Do you always have to be prepared for everything?" she says, a bit archly, good-natured teasing as she pulls back a little, reluctant to lose the close contact but eager to keep going. The graze of Peggy's fingers on the back of her neck makes her shiver, gooseflesh prickling along her bare arms. "There's something to be said for a bit of spontaneity." This as she finally undoes the fastening on Peggy's trousers, and helps her to step out of them.

Going with the flow is how she put it to Reed Smith once. For a woman who has such a strong need to be in control in most of her daily life, Stella does like a bit of spontaneity to her sexual encounters — allowing her mood and the moment to dictate things rather than presuming things ought to go a certain way every time. It's certainly what's happening here, because neither of them planned for this at all and yet, here they are.

"Always," she quips, but there's a stubborn truth in her words. Peggy's gone through life unwilling to yield or bend, instead wanting to make the inflexible things in her path move for her, so to come across any challenge or new experience where she doesn't feel prepared or in control is a terrifying thing.

She'd much rather be able to be prepared; have a briefing, take her notes, be ready with ideas and plans. This had absolutely not been planned, even if it's an incredible result, but she's certainly not prepared. "Though," she murmurs, now down to her underwear, "I suppose you might be convincing me otherwise."

Staring at the bed, then Stella, she knows she's not going to steer this, but she does have some comments. "And why are you still dressed?"

Stella's aware that, of the two of them, she's the one who has more experience in this particular arena on multiple levels — but she certainly doesn't expect Peggy to be passive. Far from it. There's something about a woman asking for what she wants in the bedroom that Stella's always found very, very attractive.

So the question is expected. Stella smiles a little, and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, holding out a hand in invitation.

"You could do something about that, you know." Meaning Peggy ought to return her the favor.

Peggy's rather pleased to have that reply and it shows in the way her smile lights up her face. She doesn't want to misstep anywhere here, which means that having Stella's permission is what she needs to be able to dart forward like an attack strike, kissing Stella firmly (the desperation beginning to bleed into more of a determination.

Only when she's through with that promise that she's enjoying it does she make quick work of Stella's top, adding it to her own pile (to be thought of later), reaching back to unhook the clasp of her bra (one of her good ones, not one of the ones they've been provided) because, well...

Tit for tat, so to speak.

Stella is more than slightly disarmed by the brilliance of Peggy's smile, but she doesn't have time to be pleased with herself for being responsible for it before Peggy's kissing her. She kisses back, a hand rising to stroke the side of Peggy's neck, and there's no desperation in her kiss, but there is need. She's wanted this for a long time, and with more of the physical barriers of clothing out of the way, she's more willing to let herself show it a bit.

When the kiss breaks, she moves her arms to let Peggy take her top off, and again she's wishing she thought to wear one of her nice bras with the lace and satin that actually flatters her body — but it's okay, it doesn't matter, she won't be wearing it for much longer anyway and she's too distracted by Peggy taking her own bra off to think on it much.

Eyes dark with desire, she reaches up to draw Peggy down to sit next to her on the bed, her hand trailing from Peggy's neck down to the shape of her clavicle, then downward further to teasingly stroke the curve of her breast. Or maybe it's not teasing so much as it is just exploring. It's been ages since the last time she did this with another woman and she never really thought she'd be fortunate enough to do this with Peggy, specifically, so she thinks she can be excused for wanting to take her time.

And then she's reaching back to quickly unclasp her own bra, tossing it carelessly out of the way, partly to be fair and partly because she really wants the feel of skin on skin now — as evidenced when she pulls Peggy in to kiss her again, and gasps sharply against her mouth as they press together with nothing at all between them. She's still clothed below the waist, and Peggy's still got her knickers on, but even this much is a relief.

Peggy feels distressingly bare and on display, even if she had been the one to take off her own top, leaving her in little more than her pants. Peggy takes advantage of the bareness of Stella's skin to move atop her, as if she's doing little more than wrestling with Mr. Jarvis (even though this is distinctly more than that), letting out a gasp of a breath when the warmth of skin is almost so bloody distracting.

She honestly didn't think that she'd missed human touch so badly until she had it again, and now she's wondering how on earth she'd gone on so long without it. It doesn't even register for some time that she's lost in the kiss until suddenly, she eases back and her lips feel a touch swollen and chapped.

"I don't mean to rush things," she says, pushing hair off her forehead, "but what's next?"

Peggy's on top of her now, and for once Stella doesn't mind not being the one on top — not when this is so pleasant. She's breathing a little fast when the kiss breaks, and she knows how she probably looks: cheeks slightly flushed, fair hair pooled beneath her on the sheets, her mouth just as swollen and red from all the kissing they've been doing. She's not especially self-conscious about it; after all, it means they're doing this properly.

And actually, there is an advantage to having Peggy on top of her, in front of her — she has more freedom to touch, to run her hands up the other woman's back, dragging her nails lightly against the skin, just hard enough to be felt but not to leave marks. Stella almost laughs at the remark, because she thinks the I don't mean to rush things is probably hiding a good deal of impatience. She would be, were their positions reversed.

"That depends on you," she says. Stella sits up a little, just so she can kiss along Peggy's collarbone, dragging her teeth against the outline of her clavicle without quite biting down. Then lower, carefully, kissing the curve of her breast before pulling back to gaze up at Peggy under her lashes. She badly wants to do more, and she thinks it's sort of implied, but — well. Part of her likes being explicitly given permission.

"How much do you trust me?" Because at the root, Stella knows that's what all this is about, for Peggy anyway. She herself doesn't need to feel that degree of trust just to have sex with someone — but to be trusted is something else entirely.

Peggy's not sensitive in some of these areas anymore, not after the bullet wounds and the rebar had dulled some of her senses. It means that she's not ticklish and that she's not going to spasm and shriek simply because of a few ghostly presses of fingertips, but there's still a great deal of pleasure from Stella's motions.

"I trust you completely," she says, and that's the most honest that she's ever going to be. After all, Stella's been her roommate for over a year now and her best friend in this place. If there were anyone that she wanted at her side, it was this woman here, no matter whether it's in the bedroom or in battle.

Perhaps she doesn't say it enough, but she thinks this could be a good start for getting it out. "I think I have to, right now, don't I?"

Stella certainly doesn't say it enough. She thinks it ought to be obvious by now, after all this time, that Peggy is possibly the only person in the village she wholeheartedly trusts. But maybe she could stand to say it more, because when she hears that from Peggy she has to stop for a moment just to look at her. Then there's a smile, slight but warm and genuine.

She thinks she must have forgot what this was like. It's not as if Stella doesn't have any friends at home; she does, even if it's a very short list. But Peggy is a touchstone for her in a way no one has been in a long time, and it warms her to know the sentiment is returned in full.

Stella doesn't answer that in words; she thinks Peggy already knows the answer anyway. She at least has to trust that Stella knows what she's doing, even if Peggy herself doesn't.

"Switch places with me," she suggests. "Lay back?" It's a request, not a demand of any kind, relax, let me make you feel good. Stella is really, really looking forward to this, and it might show in the anticipation and desire in her gaze.

Peggy thinks that perhaps in the transition, she ought to get rid of the last item that's holding her back from being truly nude. As she shifts in order to switch, she hooks her thumb in her pants and slides them lower until they're lying on the ground, discarded and leaving a path towards the bed.

If anyone were to interrupt them at this particular point, there'd be no mystery at all as to what was happening. Lying on her back, her shoulders arched, twisted up just enough to be able to still watch Stella, she's fascinated and intrigued by the thought of what's going to come next.

"Lucky I didn't decide to ask this advice in the winter," she jokes, eager to keep the mood light. "I can't imagine this would have been nearly as comfortable in that weather."

Stella would have got there soon enough, but watching Peggy strip off the very last of her layers — leaving herself willingly bare — elicits a shiver of anticipation and desire she has to fight to suppress. It reminds Stella she's still clothed below the waist herself, and maybe she should take off her trousers and her knickers just for the sake of playing fair.

She hesitates for about half a second, not really long enough that most people would notice although Peggy might, before her fingers go to the fastening and zip on her trousers and she strips them off along with her knickers in what looks like a single efficient motion. The joke distracts her from thinking about the marks on her thighs, whether Peggy will notice them, what she'll think of them. She has, after all, never seen Stella naked below the waist before.

"Oh, I think we would have managed," she says, with a flicker of a teasing smile. They'd probably have had to do this under the blankets, but they would have managed. She climbs on top of Peggy, looking confident and pleased with herself for being there. Stella ducks her head, brushing her lips across Peggy's in a soft, brief kiss, before her mouth travels lower — her collarbone, between her breasts, kissing the swell of one before taking a nipple into her mouth, sucking softly and then biting down gently, the way she'd wanted to do earlier. Her gaze darts up to Peggy's face to gauge her reaction; there's nothing tentative or hesitant about what she's doing, but as ever, she's conscious of the fact that it's been a long time since anyone's touched the other woman like this.

Peggy should feel stranger, she thinks. Perhaps what's oddest about this is how very natural it feels to be like this with Stella, seeing as she's completely bare both in physical state, but also due to the fact that if anyone knows all of her secrets here, it's this woman here with her. When Stella doesn't immediately follow, she sits up a little so that she can pay attention and watch, her interest held even if she's trying not to look overly pushy.

She's not trying to rush this, but she is a touch eager to get to the next step, which means that the clothes do need to come off. That moment of hesitation, though, it means something, and Peggy's not crass enough to simply presume that she knows what's happening. If Stella wants to tell her, she will.

She sees the marks, of course she does, but it's not Peggy's place to comment. "We are rather resourceful," she agrees, leaning her whole body into the kiss with a soft sigh, which apparently is only a leadup to the main event. It's been a very long time, which is why her back arches almost without her wanting it to, a sharp cry of surprise leaving her mouth at Stella's mouth on her breast.

Earning that reaction from Peggy sends a sharp frisson of feeling through Stella: pleasure, desire, the need to earn even more from her. She hums low in her throat, an approving noise, and switches to Peggy's other breast to give it the same treatment. She's intensely missed doing this, and it probably shows; she's obviously enjoying herself at it.

Eventually, Stella starts to move lower, laying kisses punctuated with little bites over the flat of the other woman's stomach, the loose fall of her hair brushing Peggy's skin. She's still not rushing, but the desire to move on, to get them both closer to their eventual goal, is inevitable. Her weight shifts a little, one hand sliding over Peggy's thigh to encourage her to part her legs a little so Stella's between them instead of sliding over top of them.

It does feel natural, and for once Stella's not really surprised by this. There's a trust between them, and a feeling of ease and comfort hard-won over more than a year. Maybe it makes sense each of them should trust the other with her body, even if it's only for this space of time.

Right now, this is no different than she's been treated by men and the familiarity of it is actually rather soothing. It's nothing she has to adjust for and she's more than happy to simply lie back and let Stella take control in such a way, arching forward against the touch of Stella's mouth on her whenever she desires more.

When Stella brushes lower, past the healed scars, she knows what's coming next. It's also something that a man could absolutely do, but Fred wasn't the adventurous sort that would have ever been willing to give Peggy this sort of pleasure.

She supposes it's his loss, though really, it's more hers.

"Stella," she gasps out, breath hitching as she opens her legs, feeling nervous now. Her muscles are tensing slightly, solely because for once, she really doesn't know what comes next.

It doesn't usually affect Stella much, hearing a partner say her name in bed. For one thing, she doesn't always exchange names with her one-night stands. For another, she's sort of put it into the category of things people say when they're overcome by sensation, an almost involuntary reaction she doesn't read much into.

Hearing Peggy gasp her name like that, though, is unexpectedly pleasant. Stella doesn't stop, pressing a kiss just beside her navel, then detouring slightly to the outline of her hipbone. It's got to be obvious what her eventual destination is, she thinks.

But there's a little tension and nervousness in the other woman, and after a moment Stella shifts back a little, pressing a quick kiss to the inside of Peggy's knee, fingers curling over her thigh. "All right?" she asks, looking up at her. She thinks Peggy is probably just fine, that she knows she could tell Stella if she doesn't like or want something — but maybe she's never had anyone do this for her before. Which puts a little pressure on Stella to do it right, but she's not exactly lacking in confidence in this department.

She's hardly groomed down there, though Peggy does have a kit so she tries to keep tidy, but she hadn't anticipated going from asking advice to having sex right in the same day, so there's a slightly embarrassed flush in her cheeks. "Yes, I'm simply..."

She laughs, letting her head fall back against the pillow, forcing herself to relax. "I keep thinking you're going to see or feel or have something happen and all this will stop," she confesses in a rush, which is the truth of the matter.

When Peggy gets right down to it, she doesn't want this to stop and that's the point.