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Fic: okay to say you've got a weak spot
Title: okay to say you've got a weak spot
Fandom: Iron Man (films)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Summary: If Pepper Potts were a superhero, her superpower would be appearing silently out of nowhere while wearing sky-high heels.
Count: 812 words
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
quinby (from the fic request post), who requested Tony and Pepper. Sorry this wasn't on time! Happy late birthday! (Title from "I Am Not a Robot" by Marina & the Diamonds; set after Iron Man 2.)
If Pepper Potts were a superhero, her superpower would be appearing silently out of nowhere while wearing sky-high heels.
Tony has days where he's 80% sure that Pepper seriously is a super; the rare one who actually succeeds at maintaining a secret identity.
"You need to sign these," Pepper says, flipping through forms on a clipboard, barely glancing up when Tony nearly flings his protein shake across the workshop in shock at her sudden appearance. "They're the scrap metal contracts with Holton and Dyna Industries; I gave the originals to Marina to have you sign them two days ago, and I st -- oh my God, it looks like a frat house down here." Her heels click as she steps around him, taking in the containers of Chinese takeout on the coffee table and the plasma screen blaring a terrible music video channel that doesn't actually play music videos. "It smells like one, too."
"I resent that," Tony says, pushing his chair back and letting himself wheel along for a foot or two, coasting comfortably. "So does Dummy. We're very wounded."
Dummy's gears whir as the mechanical arm tips side to side, like a dog tilting its head after hearing its name.
"I know you have these contracts in here somewhere," Pepper says, matter-of-factly rifling through a stack of schematics on his desk. She's one of two people on the planet who Tony would allow to do this; 1) it's a boundary thing, 2) it's supremely annoying, and 3) given the kinds of things that he plans in this workshop, it's dangerous. She comes up with a plate with a three-day-old half-eaten sandwich on it, instead. "Ew. This is disgusting!" She shoves the plate across the desk, at him. "You're disgusting."
Tony watches her for a few seconds. She left her suit jacket upstairs, but otherwise, she's still tense and armored up in Chanel and Louboutin, hair swept up perfectly, like she's ready to step into the next room and go to war with the board; not like it's Friday night after-hours in Malibu. He pushes off of the floor and rolls until the back of his chair lightly taps the desk just beside where Pepper is digging through paperwork.
"You do realize that I have someone who does this for me now, right?" he says, raising his eyebrows up at her. "I'm paying what's-her-face a very generous annual salary to chase me around with a clipboard and be horrified by my personal hygiene."
"Well, she's not exactly earning it, is she?" Pepper snaps, and he sees the stunned regret flash across her face immediately as she sets down everything she's shuffling. "Sorry," she says, shutting her eyes and pressing her hand to her face, "I'm sorry; that was uncalled for. Marina is," she makes that strong hand gesture that she always makes when she's stressed out, palms pointed toward the floor, "very competent. She's doing a good job. I wouldn't have picked her if she wasn't amazing at what she does."
(Tony isn't always the greatest with these things, but he's relatively sure that Pepper isn't actually annoyed at or about Marina.)
"It's not her fault that you're impossible," Pepper continues, but with that note in her voice that means she's suppressing a very small smile.
(Whatever she's angry about is apparently not related to Tony, either, which he appreciates.)
"Impossibly charming, maybe," he says, rising out of his chair and leaning in, and there's the faint smile that Pepper has been trying to hide. "Debonair. Impressive."
She wrinkles her nose, clearly unimpressed. "You need to take a shower. How long have you been down here?" Despite her words -- and her expression -- she brushes her fingers across the crook of his elbow after he rests his hand on her waist.
"Three hours," he murmurs, tipping his forehead against hers, "give or take two days."
Her fingers curl around his bicep. "You do have a very expensive bed. You know, beds?" she jokes gently. "Some people sleep in them."
"Less interesting when there's no one else in it," Tony proclaims, a little too low to be entirely flippant, and he doesn't have to be able to see her face (they're too close for that) to know that she's smiling again.
"Are you saying you want to make things interesting?" Pepper murmurs in that warm, subtly mischievous tone that never fails to drive him wild.
"Maybe," Tony breathes against her parted lips, and he feels her breath on his mouth when she huffs a silent laugh; he tilts his head and leans in -- and she places a hand on his chest and firmly pushes him back.
"Take a shower, Tony," Pepper says, wry and promising at the same time, and her heels click as she walks away.
Pepper's other superpower is 'getting Tony Stark to do whatever she wants.'
Tony should probably feel emasculated by it, but he's usually too busy being simultaneously incredulous and aroused.
Fandom: Iron Man (films)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Summary: If Pepper Potts were a superhero, her superpower would be appearing silently out of nowhere while wearing sky-high heels.
Count: 812 words
Notes: Written for
quinby (from the fic request post), who requested Tony and Pepper. Sorry this wasn't on time! Happy late birthday! (Title from "I Am Not a Robot" by Marina & the Diamonds; set after Iron Man 2.)If Pepper Potts were a superhero, her superpower would be appearing silently out of nowhere while wearing sky-high heels.
Tony has days where he's 80% sure that Pepper seriously is a super; the rare one who actually succeeds at maintaining a secret identity.
"You need to sign these," Pepper says, flipping through forms on a clipboard, barely glancing up when Tony nearly flings his protein shake across the workshop in shock at her sudden appearance. "They're the scrap metal contracts with Holton and Dyna Industries; I gave the originals to Marina to have you sign them two days ago, and I st -- oh my God, it looks like a frat house down here." Her heels click as she steps around him, taking in the containers of Chinese takeout on the coffee table and the plasma screen blaring a terrible music video channel that doesn't actually play music videos. "It smells like one, too."
"I resent that," Tony says, pushing his chair back and letting himself wheel along for a foot or two, coasting comfortably. "So does Dummy. We're very wounded."
Dummy's gears whir as the mechanical arm tips side to side, like a dog tilting its head after hearing its name.
"I know you have these contracts in here somewhere," Pepper says, matter-of-factly rifling through a stack of schematics on his desk. She's one of two people on the planet who Tony would allow to do this; 1) it's a boundary thing, 2) it's supremely annoying, and 3) given the kinds of things that he plans in this workshop, it's dangerous. She comes up with a plate with a three-day-old half-eaten sandwich on it, instead. "Ew. This is disgusting!" She shoves the plate across the desk, at him. "You're disgusting."
Tony watches her for a few seconds. She left her suit jacket upstairs, but otherwise, she's still tense and armored up in Chanel and Louboutin, hair swept up perfectly, like she's ready to step into the next room and go to war with the board; not like it's Friday night after-hours in Malibu. He pushes off of the floor and rolls until the back of his chair lightly taps the desk just beside where Pepper is digging through paperwork.
"You do realize that I have someone who does this for me now, right?" he says, raising his eyebrows up at her. "I'm paying what's-her-face a very generous annual salary to chase me around with a clipboard and be horrified by my personal hygiene."
"Well, she's not exactly earning it, is she?" Pepper snaps, and he sees the stunned regret flash across her face immediately as she sets down everything she's shuffling. "Sorry," she says, shutting her eyes and pressing her hand to her face, "I'm sorry; that was uncalled for. Marina is," she makes that strong hand gesture that she always makes when she's stressed out, palms pointed toward the floor, "very competent. She's doing a good job. I wouldn't have picked her if she wasn't amazing at what she does."
(Tony isn't always the greatest with these things, but he's relatively sure that Pepper isn't actually annoyed at or about Marina.)
"It's not her fault that you're impossible," Pepper continues, but with that note in her voice that means she's suppressing a very small smile.
(Whatever she's angry about is apparently not related to Tony, either, which he appreciates.)
"Impossibly charming, maybe," he says, rising out of his chair and leaning in, and there's the faint smile that Pepper has been trying to hide. "Debonair. Impressive."
She wrinkles her nose, clearly unimpressed. "You need to take a shower. How long have you been down here?" Despite her words -- and her expression -- she brushes her fingers across the crook of his elbow after he rests his hand on her waist.
"Three hours," he murmurs, tipping his forehead against hers, "give or take two days."
Her fingers curl around his bicep. "You do have a very expensive bed. You know, beds?" she jokes gently. "Some people sleep in them."
"Less interesting when there's no one else in it," Tony proclaims, a little too low to be entirely flippant, and he doesn't have to be able to see her face (they're too close for that) to know that she's smiling again.
"Are you saying you want to make things interesting?" Pepper murmurs in that warm, subtly mischievous tone that never fails to drive him wild.
"Maybe," Tony breathes against her parted lips, and he feels her breath on his mouth when she huffs a silent laugh; he tilts his head and leans in -- and she places a hand on his chest and firmly pushes him back.
"Take a shower, Tony," Pepper says, wry and promising at the same time, and her heels click as she walks away.
Pepper's other superpower is 'getting Tony Stark to do whatever she wants.'
Tony should probably feel emasculated by it, but he's usually too busy being simultaneously incredulous and aroused.
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Pepper is, indeed, a super.
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So cute!! I love Pepper gets to tell him what to do, and he goes along with it. :)
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