“There’s only one rule. You can’t use your hands.” - Darcy/Lance
Ship: Darcy Lewis/Lance Hunter |
Prompt: “There’s only one rule. You can’t use your hands.” |
For: Anon |
Rated: M |
Word Count: 279 |
A/N: Sorry this didn’t get smutty, but it’s very risque, at least. ;)
Want one of your own?
“You got a minute?” Darcy asked, her fingertips trailing along the doorframe as Lance turned, his eyes on her fingernails, in rapt attention as they plinked against the metal. “Well. Probably longer than a minute, I find myself without plans for lunch, and I know you’d asked me--”
“Hell yes, I have a minute. I’ve all the time in the world for you, sweetheart.”
Grinning, Darcy moved to the side, inhaling as he pushed past her and into her office. Much closer than was really necessary, but she wasn’t about to call him out for something she enjoyed so much.
She followed, closing the door before sitting down on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs and thrilling a little when he straight up checked her out. Up and down from hip to heel.
Her legs did look phenomenal in this skirt if she did say so herself. Pencil skirts seemed to agree with her.
“Thought you might be able to help me scratch an itch…” She reached up to pop open the top button of her blouse.
His mouth fell open as he watched her slowly move down to the next button in succession. “Are you certain it’s appropriate, given our jobs?”
She raised her eyebrows, all the while reaching down for the third button. The one that would reveal the black lace of her bra. “We don’t technically intersect unless you’re here.”
“I’m here now,” he said, his voice low as his tongue came out to wet his lips.
“You certainly are. And there’s only one rule. You can’t use your hands.”
Judging by the smirk on Lance’s face, that wasn’t going to be a problem.
August 23 - "They're not good enough for you" feel free to change pronouns, Darcy/Lance for @quinfirefrorefiddle
Written by @celiaequus
This was the closest Lance had felt to home since arriving in America so many years ago.
When he’d started his vacation, he’d become swept up in the whirlwind of Bobbi Morse, a relationship which fizzled out as abruptly as it started. She’d been eager to show him everything American. Then their romance got dangerously intense, and they broke things off.
Lance had cut all ties with England. He didn’t regret that; there was no one back home for him. No family, all friends married or overseas. He was stuck in America; this was the only life he had now.
Couldn’t beat an English pub, though, and this bar had an atmosphere so British he could almost pretend he was back home.
He was grateful Coulson had given them the night off, and Lance was even more grateful that he’d tracked down a bar run by a couple from Wales. Apparently their daughter worked in America and they wanted to be closer to her, so they’d up and moved.
“She studies at Culver, you know, man,” the husband, David, said as he poured Lance’s beer. “Made a lot of friends that way. We’ve almost become a part of the university.” He leaned closer as he handed over the beer. “We even saw the Hulk. He worked there, you know? And then there was that fight.” He shook his head. “Sometime after that, the only other bar nearby closed, which was good for us.” He studied Lance. “But I get the feeling you’re not in the mood for a chat? Never mind. If you need anything, give us a call, man.”
“Cheers, mate,” Lance said, saluting him with the beer. The Welshman hurried off to fulfil the next order, and Lance slowly relaxed. Until someone sat one stool away from him, slamming a folder onto the counter.
“I so need a margarita right now,” she said, removing her glasses and rubbing her eyes. “Damn it, Janey. You couldn’t get all this information before we left?”
She didn’t seem to be hooked up to a handsfree phone. Lance knew that people talked to themselves; but working for SHIELD made him more paranoid than before.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he blurted out. The brunette looked at him with surprise. “You sound like you need to rant to someone, and maybe you’ll be a pair of willing ears for me in return?”
She smiled, and shuffled to the stool beside him, offering her hand. He shook it.
“Darcy Lewis,” she said. “And I’m all yours.”
“Lance Hunter,” he said. “What brings you here, Darcy?”
“My boss,” she said, tapping the binder. “She’s overseas for a science conference, but she needed something she’d left at Culver for reasons unknown to the universe. I mean, I don’t know why she left it. I know why she needs it. In layman’s terms, anyway. She’s an astrophysicist, and I think she only keeps me around because I know how she likes her coffee.”
“I’m sure you’re far more valuable than that,” he replied.
“Oh, yeah. I do other errands, like getting folders of information she should’ve digitised years ago. I suggested she get someone to scan or even fax all the documents, but she doesn’t wanna risk anyone stealing what they find.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how many people would even understand this stuff. Tomorrow I return to London, and then fly to… wherever she’ll be by then. It’s a pretty tight schedule, and without me there I don’t know whether Jane can even stick to it.”
“Why did you come to the bar on your own?” he asked.
“Because I’m secretly a loser,” she said. “And I was kinda hoping for some good conversation, maybe something more.” Darcy tilted her head and looked at him from beneath her eyelashes. “Why are you here all on your ownsome?”
“I’ve got the night off work, and I wanted something to remind me of home,” Lance said. “My job… well, it’s stressful enough, moreso now I’m working with my ex-wife. It’s so damn hard to get over her when she’s hanging around, seducing me in the back of cars like we were teenagers, all because she has an itch to scratch and no one else at work is interested.”
“Whoa,” Darcy said, her eyes widening. “What a bitch.”
“No, it’s… she’s not like that.” He sighed. “Sorry, I always make her sound worse than she is. It wasn’t a great break-up. But she doesn’t want that emotional connection back. I… I thought we had an emotional connection once, but maybe I imagined it. I want something more than she can give.”
“So you’re just taking what you can get?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Dude, that sucks.”
He shrugged.
“It is what it is,” he said.
“No, but you can’t just give in because you don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for!” she said. “She’s not good enough for you, okay? She’s sure as hell not good for you. If you let her keep distracting you from pursuing your dreams, you’ll never find happiness anywhere else!”
“I guess.”
“No,” she said, and she shook her finger. “No ‘guess’. You’re gonna buy me a drink, just like you promised, then we’re gonna paint the town red. Then you’ll come back to my place, if we’re still sober, and then… see how things go. So you know what you’re missing out on.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Lance said. Darcy grinned at him, and signalled for the bartender.
Well. It would stand to reason that Lance would be the hunter. It’s right there in his name. ;) Darcy would be the werewolf.
She’d be outwitting him at every turn too. Wile E. Werewolf, that’s Darcy. ;) Or well, she’d be outwitting him until she wasn’t. ;)
And no one’s more surprised than Lance when the were he’s been tracking turns out to be the cute little intern from the SHIELD labs. Literally, no one’s more surprised than Lance because LITERALLY everyone figured it out before him.
Fitz and Simmons are sniggering behind their hands. Because of COURSE she’s a werewolf, have you SEEN the girl destroy a filet mignon?
Fitz: “She never wears silver jewelry. She disappears once a month.”
Simmons: “She’s a werewolf, Hunter. And she’s been dodging you for MONTHS.”
who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman
Darcy’s the mermaid, Lance is the fisherman.
He usually fishes with his good friend Jameson (wink wink), and the all liquid fishing diet kind of serves as the reason why he doesn’t notice her at first.
With her flowing hair and gorgeous purple tail. She’s practically incandescent in the morning sun.
Also, who knew there were freshwater mermaids?
Not Lance Hunter, that’s for certain. who’s the witch and who’s the familiar
Darcy’s the witch and Lance is the familiar. The twitchy little pygmy owl who rests on her shoulder most of the time. He’s invisible to almost everyone else. But he does scare the odd cat every now and again.
who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict
Darcy comes into the coffee shop nearly every morning on her way in to work. She usually has a snarky comeback to nearly everything Lance throws her way.
Of course, the one morning he lobs a real zinger her way, would be the morning she bursts into tears.
And he’s over the counter, upending the biscotti basket and making Bobbi swear in all the colours of the rainbow back behind the counter while she rights his mess.
Doesn’t really matter though, something’s got actual-ray-of-sunshine Darcy Lewis upset and he’ll be damned if he’s going to let something as trivial as a basket of biscotti keep him from making it right.
who’s the professor and who’s the TA
Lance is the professor. Through some outlandish, completely bonkers turn of events, he’s the criminal justice professor for the incoming freshman at Culver.
“I’m a criminal. How am I qualified to teach this?”
“You’re technically a reformed criminal, with no charges actually stuck to you. And you’re an adjunct professor. There’s barely any qualifications for that. And the last one got called away on FBI business. You’re the best thing they could scrape up in a week,” Darcy said with a grin.
He sighed. “Thanks for the ego boost, love...”
who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)
Lance is totally the knight. (His name is LANCE, hello).
Darcy does a pretty decent job of saving herself, however. And him. He’s appointed to be her guard, to keep anyone from coming in to harm her.
And no one harms her. No other questions need to be asked.
He does a shoddy job of keeping men out of her bed though. Well, there’s just the one man. And it’s him. But again. No other questions need to be asked.
As far as the king is concerned, no vagabonds or ne’er-do-wells have sullied the Princess.
who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent
Darcy’s the teacher and Lance is the single parent. His son ships it before either of them do, since the little tyke is fairly smitten with his kindergarten teacher.
He assumes that since he’s smitten with her, his dad must be as well.
And through no fault of his own, his wish comes true. who’s the writer and who’s the editor
Darcy’s the writer, and Lance is the editor who tries to push too many corrections.
He incurs her wrath in the form of the thesaurus function on MS Word. Which she uses on every single word of every single comment he leaves in the margins.
“My name is not Spear Trapper, Ms. Lewis.”
“You don’t like that? How about...Harpoon Stalker? I think it’s more exciting? Don’t you?”
We Don’t Talk Anymore - Charlie Puth and Selena Gomez
Darcy’s face reddened, heated up to embarrassing levels when she caught Lance’s gaze from across the room. She very nearly backed up and left, but Natasha’s arm hooked through hers and pulled her onward. “Go talk to him,” was the redheaded assassin’s primo advice.
Her only consolation was that he seemed to be as uncomfortable as she was. They stood there in relative palpable silence before Darcy gave in and spoke first.
“Hi,” she said weakly.
His mouth twitched up into a half smile. A half smile with sad eyes. “Hi,” he returned.
Lance Hunter/Darcy Lewis, Sexy Sadie? If you can't do that, pietro/Darcy, same song.
Beatles Prompts
Pairing: Lance Hunter/Darcy LewisWord Count: 950
A/N: As much as I love Quicktaser, I haven’t written any Huntershock before, so I jumped at the chance. I might have taken liberties with the prompt, though. A few ironic liberties. Hopefully it’s still enjoyable, though. :D
On another note, I have two of these prompts left in queue, so remember to get your prompts in by Sunday if you have any more. I’m closing the queue for real on Sunday, so if you have ANYTHING you want to see written in this vein, get it to me by then!
Sexy Sadie
Darcy yawned and stretched her arms behind her, causing herchair to creak a little louder than was strictly necessary. Seriously, it was loud. It wasn’t like she was an elephant orsomething, good grief, chair.
Agent Lance Hunter, who was on the floor leaning against thewall looked up at the noise. “That yourback?” he grimaced at the thought. Shehad to agree, it was gross to think someone’s back could ever make a noise likethat and still be functional.
“NO. The chair…” shegroaned and got up. He had the rightidea, sitting on the floor.
Why in hell these files weren’t in digital form yet wasbeyond Darcy’s limited comprehension of the inner workings of SHIELD. These weren’t even important; it didn’t looklike. Personnel files from the 50s and60s, and they looked like they were all just…thrown in this room without muchother adieu.
But they would be digitized soon enough, she supposed. Even though she wasn’t exactly sure why they’dsent Agent Fine Ass here to help. Agent Fine British Ass. Not that it wasn’t appreciated. No, it definitely was. She’d have to sendwhoever it was whose idea this was a nice fruit basket. She had a feeling it was Skye.
Of course, she’d spent the entire morning making herself lookcompletely unfuckable. There was thatuber-loud sneeze that had blown papers everywhere. Oh, and when she’d tripped over the samefucking box four times while traversing the room. AND she’d dropped that cheese puff down hertop at some point and could FEEL it rolling around in her bra, so she’d reacheddown to get it out and of course THAT was the moment he’d looked up to ask hera question. He’d trailed off and buried hisface in the file in front of him when he’d realized she was elbow deep down thefront of her top.
He’d been pretty gentlemanly about the whole thing,though. Never said a word if it didn’thave to do with the work at hand.
Of course, that was almost worse. At least if he’d said something, she coulddefend herself. As it was, he probablythought she was some stupid intern who walked around with her hands down herclothes all the time.
She sat down against the wall opposite him, pulling a box offiles over towards her and opening her laptop.
“So…uh…” he ventured, “What do you and your lot do afterwork?”
She shrugged, “Couldn’t tell you. I don’t usually doanything. Go get dinner and take ithome. Who has time for a social lifewhen Tony Stark might need sushi at four in the A.M?”
“They don’t have takeaway services in New York?” hechuckled.
“He likes me to bring it…he thinks there’s less of achance that it will be spit in. Hate tobreak it to him…if he wakes me up, he’s getting his food spit in.”
He laughed, “I’m sure it pays well enough, though…”
“Oh yeah. I’mcompletely out of student loan debt. Probably doesn’t sound like a lot, but…I’m the only one in my graduatingclass who is debt free…”
He nodded, “Congratulations.”
Darcy laughed nervously. Not only was she unfuckable, she was a boring-assconversationalist. God, she wascompletely awkward.
“So…uh…where might a takeaway connoisseur such as yourselfsuch as yourself suggest on such an evening as tonight?”
She let her head tilt to the side as she tried to read someagent’s chicken scratch signature. “Dependson what you want. Brother Jimmy’s hasgood burgers. Buddakan is the best Chinesein my opinion…My Pie has a great Buffalo Mozzarella pizza…the Mushroom withTruffle oil ain’t bad either.” She madethe best guess she could muster about the mystery agent’s name and closed herlaptop. It was after seven and she needed to start heading home. This would still be here tomorrow.
“Are you leaving?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow? Or will someone new be helping me?”
“Umm, no, I’ll be here…”
“Oh. Cool. See ya then.” She grinned and made her way out the door, mentally punching herself forsaying “cool”.
She was walking down the hall when she heard what soundedlike a two-hundred-pound rat knocking over a bunch of newspapers and thenslamming a door really loudly.
She turned abruptly to see Agent Hunter looking extremelyruffled as he walked quickly after her.
He stopped in his tracks looking at her beforespeaking. “I just was going to leave too…”
She nodded, pursing her lips. “How much of that are we goingto have to read through again tomorrow?”
“Oh, all of it, definitely.”
She tried to stifle her laughter, but only partiallysucceeded, a snort escaping through her nose. Seriously.
“I simply wanted to catch you before you left and see ifmaybe you’d fancy some company this evening…?”
She was pretty sure her mouth was hanging open. “I’m just…gonna be watching Netflix at homeand—“
“Yes, I’m aware. I could bring takeaway…Chinese? Or maybe pizza? Burgers? Or all of it? I could bring allof it.”
“Uh…”
“Right. Ofcourse. That’s weird. I shouldn’t just…invite myself over to your…yourflat, should I? Sorry…I’m absolute shit at this…it’s just…I’ve been wanting toask you to go out all day…I mean, not go out ALL DAY, but for the entire day, I’vebeen trying to think of a way to ask you on a date and—”
“No, it’s…it’s fine. You can come over…” she heard herself squeak out.
His eyebrows rose. “Oh? I can? That is absolutely…”
