John Blake is angry in his bones. (comingback) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-02-17 21:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, john blake, maria hill |
WHO: John Blake & Maria Hill
WHAT: Smut that went plotty.
WHERE: Their House in Irvine.
WHEN: Sunday Night.
WARNINGS: Uh, porn. A lot of porn. But then fluff. But they're naked. Look, just saying it's porn.
*The switch to prose is kind of mid-foreplay, whups.*
She arches her back again, attempting to press her breast further towards the heat of his mouth. By now, she's aching for him, soaked through the fabric of her panties, breath coming in harsh gasps. "Come on..."
John didn't let himself be rushed. That was how they tended do things. Rushed and hurried, never sated, going over and over again until dawn. Tonight he wanted her to be in his arms, to be pressed against him and drink her in, to worship her like she deserved. Like he wanted to. "You're beautiful like this, you know that?
It's hard to control herself, her frustration mounting as he moves. It's funny how 'worshipping' is on the same side of the coin as 'teasing' and 'making her crazy'. All she wants right now is to grab him and flip them over, pull his boxers off and fuck him hard into the mattress... but it's his birthday, so she'll be good. "What? Squirming and begging?"
Okay, maybe she can't resist a snarky remark or two.
John's fingers travelled to her back, flicking the clasp to her bra open, sliding it off her shoulders as he kissed the skin there again. "I didn't really hear begging, but I more meant in general. In love." He shimmied down her body again, kissing and sucking until just over her panties, he paused with a grin. "You are beautiful in love."
"I said please," she murmurs with a small smile. "That counts." Not really– she's begged harder, pleaded more, but it's the principal of the thing. Her smile is affectionate, though. Loving. "And you're gorgeous–" she pauses with a sharp gasp as he reached the spot just over where she needed him– "even when you are being an asshole."
John laughed quietly, tugging her hips against her mouth, licking slightly, gently, almost teasingly before speeding his ministrations, letting his fingers slide inside of her with a quiet moan of his own. She did beg sometimes, but he didn't want that tonight. He wanted to enjoy every second.
A long sigh of relief escapes her lips as his fingers slide into her, fingers tightening in his hair. "Thank you," she murmurs, and she's not sure if she's thanking him for relenting or just in general, because she loves him and the fact that he can love a cold, broken wreck like her is baffling.
Running a hand almost soothingly along her thigh, he moaned against her again, letting the second finger join the first, his tongue stroking against her clit slowly, gently. She wasn't perfect in his eyes, because that was the mistake last time. No one was perfect. But she was perfect -for him-. He was rock hard, but John wasn't about to rush this part. "I'm not stopping until you come, Maria," he murmured, pulling away just enough to tell her before moving in, sucking her more.
"Good," she breathes, her other hand moving to his hair, keeping him fimly in place against her center as she rocks her hips against him. Her nerve endings are already on fire, ignited and sensitized by his slow journey over her body, so his goal is probably closer than he thinks.
His fingers dance, slowly stroking in and out, thumb teasing as he moans against her skin, knowing how close she is. By this point John felt like he knew Maria's reactions better than his own. Shifting, he brushed his cock, still penned inside his jeans, against the bed and his moan was almost a growl.
It's the growl that ultimately sends her over the edge. She's always been a bit of an audiophile, and his voice... it does things to her. Coupled with the fingers inside of her, the tongue on her clit, and the vibrations his moans are causing against her, it's not long at all before she arches and pulls on his hair a little too hard. Her legs shake as she comes, and his name escapes her lips in the form of a long groan.
John kissed the inside of her thigh, pulling his fingers out and putting them to her mouth to clean off. There was a savage part of him that got off on that intensely. He sat up on his heels, looking at her flushed, gasping, still shaking and for a brief moment wondered how the fuck he had lived without this. Without her. "I need you to get me out of these, Maria."
And there's an equally savage part of Maria that gets off on it too, as is evidenced by the enthusiastic way she wraps her lips around them, sucking her taste from the skin enthusiastically. Her hands are still trembling as she sits up slightly, unbuttoning his jeans, only taking a moment to palm his cock through the denim before she makes quick work of the button.
John groaned, letting his head fall onto her shoulder, pulling her into his lap even with the jeans still on. He was dying for her touch, outright aching for the press of her skin against his. This time last year he was trying to recreate it, trying to remember what she had felt like so if he died, he could at least die remembering the only thing to make him so happy. Right now, he only wanted to savor. To celebrate that he was alive, that she was his and that nothing else in this Godforsaken world mattered.
Grinning gently, she pushes him back against the mattress, kissing her way down his chest quickly as she tugs his jeans down over his hips. She has no desire to tease right now, nor does she feel particularly inclined to hurry. Especially not as she sinks down slowly atop his cock, her hands on his cheeks as she groans at that delicious, familiar little stretch.
John's back arched up, just enough to wrap his arms around her waist, shifting his hips up to thrust, unable to hold himself calm, not just this second.
He was moaning her name, unconsciously, barely thinking since sliding into her, that usual rush of blood to his brain more than enough to erase all possible higher thought. All he could think of was Maria, his Maria, the electric caress of her flesh against his.
Her lips are against his skin, nipping and kissing trails down his neck and across his shoulders. Her chest is pressed against his, causing friction against her breasts as she meets his thrusts, letting him set the pace. It's his birthday, after all. He can take whatever he wants, because right now (as always) she is his, and if he suddenly asks for the moon, in this mindset, she'll do her damnedest to get it for him.
The moon would be decidedly pointless, and with a near-growl, John rolled them over, sliding out of her for just a moment, biting at her ear slightly before soothing the skin with a kiss. "On your stomach." No please. That wouldn't have worked, not right now. His hands were still stroking her clit, doing his best to keep the furnace burning white hot.
His words take a moment to register, between the fingers playing at her center and the small sting of the nip against her ear, but when they do... a slow smile spreads across her face. Whatever he's got planned, it'll be enjoyable. Before she rolls over, she presses a hard kiss to his lips, tugging at his lower lip with her teeth, just to make sure he knows that she's just as far gone as he is. Then, she flips herself over onto her stomach, lifting her hips slightly, aching for him to fill her once more.
John's lips pressed against the skin where her neck met her shoulder, and with his free hand he slid it around her waist, stroking her clit as he thrust into her from behind, legs on either side of her, arms holding up most of his weight. He loved this position, loved feeling the moans she gave travel through his body, loved (if he was honest) that rush that being so dominant gave. He was so lucky she was on the same page with him.
Maria loves this position, too. Giving up control like this is relaxing, freeing, and he is the /only/ one she trusts enough to give the reins to. Plus, there's a spot inside of her that he manages to hit on almost every thrust like this, forcing loud cries of his name from her lips in a constant litany. Combine that with the kissing along the back of her neck and the incredible feeling of his fingers playing with her clit in time with his thrusts... she knows she isn't going to last long like this.
Neither will he, and he doesn't want to. They have the whole night ahead of them, then tomorrow, then the rest of their lives. He isn't rushing because /he doesn't need to./ They have forever. And he is absolutely sure of it now, which is a high they could never need to look for anywhere else. His thrusts are becoming frenzied, almost erratic as he kisses her neck, holding his weight up with both arms now. "Come for me, Maria... come for me..."
And she does, as always. Whether it's his voice that sends her over the edge or he just always manages to time it perfectly, she contracts hard around his cock, again and again, back arching so far her shoulders press against his chest. By the scream she gives, it's going to be a 'noise complaint' sort of night, but she can't bring herself to give a damn. Not when she's panting and shaking and sweating and collapsed under him, utterly content.
John privately felt that his neighbors were just being fucking ridiculous at this point, but his own shout with release was just as loud, collapsing on top of her with a groan.
Shifting just enough to the side to keep from crushing her, his head buried in her neck as he spooned Maria into him, John felt an absurd joy. "... this is the best birthday I've ever had."
The sudden declaration makes her laugh, pressing back lazily against his front and tugging the blankets over them. "It's not over yet," she teases. "So there's still room to improve."
John smiled, arm around her waist, face buried in the curve of her neck. "Mmm. Yeah, but trust me. We already topped the closest competitor." He stroked her skin, content.
"I haven't even given you your present yet," she laughs lightly, fingers tracing little circles along his arm. "Hopefully it'll become unbeatable... except for next year."
John laughed. "And the year after that, and the year after that..." He kissed her shoulder. "What'd you get me?
She snorts another laugh. "I can't just /tell/ you. That's not how presents work, John."
John rolled over on his back, one arm behind his head, lying there and looking at her back with a grin until she turned around. "Okay, okay. But now I'm all curious."
"You'll see," she teases as she rolls over (though it's really more of a flop onto her back and then another flop onto her side) and wraps an arm around his waist, her head resting on his chest. "Once I can walk again."
John tugged her against him, one arm around her shoulders, and his lips brushing her temple. It felt so perfect, so right. "I'll be patient," he said, more softly than he intended.
She's happy to be curled up in his arms, under the blankets, warm against the cold February day (even if it isn't THAT cold in their apartment). "You've been patient enough," she whispers after a long minute, rolling over to pull a neatly-wrapped box.
Inside, it's clear it's a jewelry box, with matching platinum bands inside, as well as a time, a date, and an address written on a scrap of paper.
Something in John's throat catches, even as he's sitting on the perfectly normal bed, naked as the day he was born and not exactly the type of guy to get emotion, even with clothes on. One hand comes to his face, as if to rub at his eyes before thinking better of it. He looks then up at Maria, completely wordlessly but with eyes that couldn't more clearly say 'thank you'.
The expression makes it all worth it. The worry, the stress of picking out rings (who knew there were so many different types of wedding bands?), the fights, the years in the making... she gives him a beaming smile, leaning down to kiss him gently. "I love you. Let's get married."
John pulled her down with him, arms tight around her waist as he beamed up at her, not breaking eye contact, touching her cheek with one hand, face almost reverent.
"Okay." His tone was hushed. He'd handed her his heart during the snowfall that night. Here she was, handing her own to him.
There's a smile she saves only for him. It's bright and sunny and so unlike the cold expression she usually wears, one can almost swear it's a different person. It's the Maria only he gets to see, the Maria he loves, and the one she wants to make a permanent fixture in his life. No more running. No more hiding. No more fear. "I love you."
"I love you too," he murmured, repeating her, repeating him. As if they could ever say it enough. John laced their fingers together, putting the rings back on the nightstand and pulling her close. "You are so much better than I deserve."
"Bullshit," she says immediately, squeezing his hands and pressing gentle kisses to his temples, his cheeks, his jaw. "We deserve each other."