(MCU) Close Call
June 5th, 2014 10:52![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salmon_pinkTitle: Close Call
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Darcy/Pepper
Rating: R
Words: 250
Notes: Dirty talk. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
femslash100's Drabbletag, prompt "voicemail".
Everyone’s talking at once. The end of each quarter tends to be like this, departments scrambling to stretch their budget. Pepper holds up a hand for silence, apologising, insisting she has to check her voicemail, that it’s important.
Total crap, but nobody needs to know that.
It’s from Darcy, who’s been acting as a liaison between Stark Industries and Jane Foster.
She’s actually been a hell of a lot more than that, although Pepper’s been carefully discreet about their relationship.
“So the flight was fine, Erik picked me up at the airport.”
Darcy sounds chirpy, and Pepper hides her smile, tries to look like it’s a very serious message she’s listening to. She can feel everyone waiting impatiently until they can start talking at her again.
Darcy’s voice gets lower, huskier. “Fuck, I miss you already, Pepper. Miss your lips, miss your taste.”
Pepper swallows down her gasp, pulse skyrocketing.
“Keep thinking about you bending me over your desk, fucking me so good, want to get down on my knees for -”
She tries to look nonchalant when she disconnects the phone, but she’s certain there’s a flush spreading across her face. There’s a horrific moment where she worries that everyone present could hear every word. But then they’re all back to talking over each other, and Pepper tries to look politely interested, heat coursing through her, Darcy’s voice echoing in her mind.
She oh-so-casually saves the message for later. For when she’s alone, and able to really enjoy it.
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Darcy/Pepper
Rating: R
Words: 250
Notes: Dirty talk. For
femslash100's Drabbletag, prompt "voicemail".Everyone’s talking at once. The end of each quarter tends to be like this, departments scrambling to stretch their budget. Pepper holds up a hand for silence, apologising, insisting she has to check her voicemail, that it’s important.
Total crap, but nobody needs to know that.
It’s from Darcy, who’s been acting as a liaison between Stark Industries and Jane Foster.
She’s actually been a hell of a lot more than that, although Pepper’s been carefully discreet about their relationship.
“So the flight was fine, Erik picked me up at the airport.”
Darcy sounds chirpy, and Pepper hides her smile, tries to look like it’s a very serious message she’s listening to. She can feel everyone waiting impatiently until they can start talking at her again.
Darcy’s voice gets lower, huskier. “Fuck, I miss you already, Pepper. Miss your lips, miss your taste.”
Pepper swallows down her gasp, pulse skyrocketing.
“Keep thinking about you bending me over your desk, fucking me so good, want to get down on my knees for -”
She tries to look nonchalant when she disconnects the phone, but she’s certain there’s a flush spreading across her face. There’s a horrific moment where she worries that everyone present could hear every word. But then they’re all back to talking over each other, and Pepper tries to look politely interested, heat coursing through her, Darcy’s voice echoing in her mind.
She oh-so-casually saves the message for later. For when she’s alone, and able to really enjoy it.
