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Title: Vociferous
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Peggy/Angie
Rating: NC-17
Words: 846
Timeline: Post-Season One
Notes: Dirty talk. For Femslash February, and a prompt at The Annual Femslash Kink Meme.
Summary: Now they're no longer staying at the Griffith, being loud isn't a problem.



Peggy’s mouth is pressed to Angie’s shoulder, the skin there still stained faintly by the last of Peggy’s lipstick. Her hand is buried between Angie’s legs, her fingers stroking over slick flesh, breathing heavily as she tries to focus and not just grind herself against Angie’s hip.

Of course, Angie’s making focusing all the more difficult, as per usual. She groans earnestly, head thrown back and hair a mess against the pillow and, well, she’s rather loud.

Very loud.

Exceptionally loud.

Peggy’s used to a certain level of volume when it comes to Angie and sex, or simply Angie and life, but apparently Angie’s determined to outdo herself this time.

One of Angie’s hands is wrapped around a rung of the headboard, her whole body undulating as Peggy traces a knuckle over her clit. She barks out another impressive string of filth, and a part of Peggy wants to laugh, because Angie’s mouth could put even the Howling Commandos to shame. She buries her face against Angie’s neck instead, fucking in deeper, and is rewarded with another hoarse moan.

She’s found that one of the traits of high ceilings is that sound really echoes.

Angie’s hips push down against Peggy’s hand, the tension in her muscles peaking. Peggy can feel the flutter of heat surrounding her fingers as Angie tightens around her, and Peggy leans back just enough to watch Angie’s face, cheeks pink and lips swollen, as she starts to shake through her climax.

The noise Angie makes isn’t quite a scream, but it’s strikingly close to one.

Peggy sighs softly, her thigh draped over Angie’s leg, still fighting that urge to rut against bare skin. She doesn’t want to hurry - for once, they have all the time in the world.

“Holy crap,” Angie mutters, still panting, and Peggy smiles and kisses her, fingers giving one last shallow thrust, swallowing down Angie’s soft whimper. She feels Angie smile back, lips moving against her own.

“I feel like I’m the one who should be impressed,” Peggy teases when they break apart. “I’d wager good money there’s no one on the entire island of Manhattan who didn’t hear that.”

Angie grins, looking far too proud of herself. “Well, I couldn’t exactly be as loud as I wanted back at the Griffith, could I?”

Peggy’s fingers slip free; Angie shivers, eyelashes fluttering. “Ah, I see.” She trails her fingertips over the hollow of Angie’s hip, leaving the skin damp and shiny. “And now you have Howard Stark’s ridiculously huge apartment to fill with as much noise as you want, I take it you’ll be doing just that at every available opportunity?”

“Got it in one,” Angie agrees.

Peggy smirks, raising her hand to run her tongue up the length of her middle finger. Angie’s lips part, her eyes tracking the movement - the remnants of sex taste good on Peggy’s tongue. “You know, if you were worried about getting caught back at the Griffith, you should have told me.”

She licks her index fingers next, watching as Angie starts to worry her teeth into her bottom lip distractedly.

“I’d have been happy to help. Perhaps I could have gagged you?” She presses her lips against the back of her hand, where Angie’s juices have smeared across the skin. “Believe me, in my line of work, I know all sorts of ways to gag and bind a person.”

Angie swears under her breath, still watching Peggy’s mouth intently.

“Or perhaps it would have been more prudent for me to simply straddle that mouth of yours,” Peggy purrs. “I imagine it’d be rather hard to scream the house down when I’m riding your tongue.”

Angie grabs at Peggy’s wrist, yanking it close. “You’re downright evil, English,” she huffs, eyes glittering, and then she’s opening her mouth around Peggy’s finger, as hot and wet and inviting as her cunt as she takes it inside of her.

Peggy feels herself shudder and pulse, the need in her growing deeper and more demanding. Sure, they’ve got all the time in the world, but it would be wasteful to neglect the opportunity to get Angie’s hands on her as soon as possible. Irresponsible, even.

Angie’s lips release her with an obscene pop.

“You think I’m loud?” Angie murmurs. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll’ve moaned so loud for me, you won’t have a voice left!”

Peggy laughs, sliding her fingertip over Angie’s lips. “If that’s the case, I suppose I’ll just have to find other ways to beg you.”

Angie nips at her finger, grinning playfully. “Damn straight you will!”

Peggy does have a decidedly sore throat by morning. Angie brings her tea with honey and lemon, which is a nice gesture. Her smug smile, though, is less welcome, so naturally Peggy has to tackle her to the bed and wipe it off Angie’s face, her mouth working between Angie’s thighs and more groans bouncing off the high ceiling.

Her throat is even worse afterwards, and the tea ends up spilled all over the floor, but some hardships are worth it.

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