( ever since tony had announced himself as ironman things had gotten much harder. it didn't help that he, then, named her ceo... something the media didn't take too well. it wasn't that she wasn't capable, no, she had been doing almost all of the work from behind the scenes anyway, but the time at which he had done so sucked. it was difficult to placate the fears of their investors that the company was still striving to be innovative. with its cash cow flying around in a tin can and constantly putting himself in harm's way it was next to impossible to reassure them that stark industries would continue to churn our forward thinking ideas and inventions. )
( a sigh fell from her lips as she ran a finger along the rim of her, now, empty glass. lost in thought she stared out the window, wondering if, perhaps, there had been anything she could have done to salvage the meeting, because it had been nothing short of a train wreck. she didn't drink often ( for a multitude of reasons ) but tonight she saw fit to indulge in a couple of drinks. if she could forget all about this afternoon, then maybe there would be some hope for the remainder of her trip yet. )
[ Technically, Steve Rogers is not coming home. As a fugitive from his own government and just about every member state in the United Nations, he doesn't get to have a home. Not on paper, anyway. Seeing Daisy is the closest he gets to the illusion of coming home—or at least of leaving the fight—but even visiting can be too great a risk under the wrong conditions. It took a month and some change for the dust to settle enough for him to get away, and that's actually pretty good given his recent track record.
He doesn't tell Daisy beforehand. After being forced to cancel on short notice the last two times he thought he'd get to visit, he's afraid to get her hopes up until he's absolutely certain he can make it. And since it's not as simple as just traveling from one city to another when you're an international fugitive, Steve can't be sure that he'll actually make it until he gets through the front door.
When he finally does reach Daisy's front door, Steve is exhausted from the latest mission, jet lagged from travel, and stomach-gnawingly hungry. Evading surveillance turned an eleven hour journey into a sixteen hour odyssey. And yet, Steve is in his best mood in weeks. He's so eager, in fact, that he doesn't bother knocking. He uses his key and announces himself loudly as the door swings shut behind him. Daisy is a SHIELD agent after all, and getting shot because she took him for an intruder would probably ruin their reunion.
When Daisy doesn't come out to meet him, he turns into the short hallway leading to the bedroom. The door is ajar, so he gives it a soft push and it swings wide open. And then he freezes in the doorway.
The first thing he notices, oddly enough, is that she's wearing his shirt. She's wearing only his shirt, lying at the center of the bed with one hand in a white-knuckle grip around the headboard and the other between her legs. Steve's pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.
He clears his throat to get her attention and tries to sound like he has it remotely together when he speaks. ]
Guess I can't blame you for getting started without me.
[ She's breathless and flushed in the aftermath, fingers still curled through his hair and the unbuttoned shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, her forehead pressed to his and lips hovering over his, colour long since kissed off them and smudged at the edge. Can't hear much of anything over the pounding of her heart or the soft groan lost in the gasp of space between them as he lowers her from how she's hitched up around his hips, pinned between him and the wall, knees still shaky even as her bare feet come back down to solid ground. ]
Bloody hell, [ Peggy manages, her voice more laughter and air than anything of substance. She's hyperaware of everything — the serum's like that, and months after she's woken up in this not-so-foreign future she's still getting used to the changes in her own body — but it's no burden. The buzzing nerves, the hot rush of endorphins in the comedown, the way Steve smells of soap and sweat and her lingering perfume clinging to his skin from how they were pressed flush together during their frantic, passionate lovemaking.
Barely even made it to the bed, not three feet away. It's like that, sometimes, how they get carried away with each other, careening through space and time as always until they meet a (literal) brick wall. Her silk blouse is rumpled, trousers caught around her ankles, and she barely notices any of it as she leans up to drag him in for another kiss, languid and shamelessly open. And they carry on like that until her phone buzzes on the dresser.
Peggy moans into his mouth in protest, hand fumbling blindly until she locates the damned thing and hits a couple buttons until it goes silent. (It may ring again, if it's urgent — and she's rebuilding SHIELD in the ashes of the new world, so it may very well be, but for now they have peace and quiet.) ]
Sorry, [ she murmurs, cradling Steve's face between her hands. ] Where were we?
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( a sigh fell from her lips as she ran a finger along the rim of her, now, empty glass. lost in thought she stared out the window, wondering if, perhaps, there had been anything she could have done to salvage the meeting, because it had been nothing short of a train wreck. she didn't drink often ( for a multitude of reasons ) but tonight she saw fit to indulge in a couple of drinks. if she could forget all about this afternoon, then maybe there would be some hope for the remainder of her trip yet. )
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eudio verse let's roll
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@evite
He doesn't tell Daisy beforehand. After being forced to cancel on short notice the last two times he thought he'd get to visit, he's afraid to get her hopes up until he's absolutely certain he can make it. And since it's not as simple as just traveling from one city to another when you're an international fugitive, Steve can't be sure that he'll actually make it until he gets through the front door.
When he finally does reach Daisy's front door, Steve is exhausted from the latest mission, jet lagged from travel, and stomach-gnawingly hungry. Evading surveillance turned an eleven hour journey into a sixteen hour odyssey. And yet, Steve is in his best mood in weeks. He's so eager, in fact, that he doesn't bother knocking. He uses his key and announces himself loudly as the door swings shut behind him. Daisy is a SHIELD agent after all, and getting shot because she took him for an intruder would probably ruin their reunion.
When Daisy doesn't come out to meet him, he turns into the short hallway leading to the bedroom. The door is ajar, so he gives it a soft push and it swings wide open. And then he freezes in the doorway.
The first thing he notices, oddly enough, is that she's wearing his shirt. She's wearing only his shirt, lying at the center of the bed with one hand in a white-knuckle grip around the headboard and the other between her legs. Steve's pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.
He clears his throat to get her attention and tries to sound like he has it remotely together when he speaks. ]
Guess I can't blame you for getting started without me.
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mumbles something about future au idk
Bloody hell, [ Peggy manages, her voice more laughter and air than anything of substance. She's hyperaware of everything — the serum's like that, and months after she's woken up in this not-so-foreign future she's still getting used to the changes in her own body — but it's no burden. The buzzing nerves, the hot rush of endorphins in the comedown, the way Steve smells of soap and sweat and her lingering perfume clinging to his skin from how they were pressed flush together during their frantic, passionate lovemaking.
Barely even made it to the bed, not three feet away. It's like that, sometimes, how they get carried away with each other, careening through space and time as always until they meet a (literal) brick wall. Her silk blouse is rumpled, trousers caught around her ankles, and she barely notices any of it as she leans up to drag him in for another kiss, languid and shamelessly open. And they carry on like that until her phone buzzes on the dresser.
Peggy moans into his mouth in protest, hand fumbling blindly until she locates the damned thing and hits a couple buttons until it goes silent. (It may ring again, if it's urgent — and she's rebuilding SHIELD in the ashes of the new world, so it may very well be, but for now they have peace and quiet.) ]
Sorry, [ she murmurs, cradling Steve's face between her hands. ] Where were we?