Work Text:
The morning light is peeking through a gap in the curtains when you wake up. You’re disoriented for a second, used to waking up alone in your own bed, until you feel a hand brush against your stomach.
“You know, blackout curtains only work when you pull them closed properly.” You mumble, turning over to see a sleepy, messy haired John Carter smiling at you.
He scoots closer to you, head coming down to nuzzle into your shoulder, making you giggle at the vibration of his voice on your neck. “I do close them properly, when I’ve just worked a night shift and actually need to block out the sun.”
You grin and turn into him, wrapping your leg up around his waist and bringing your hand up to card through his hair. “Are you always this clingy in the morning?”
“Just with you.”
Shaking your head at him, you close your eyes, drifting back off to sleep in the comfort of Carter’s arms.
-
It’s a little later in the day when you wake up again, the sunlight brighter, the cars outside louder. You and Carter are still wrapped around each other, tangled like you’re in a game of twister, but he’s shifting slightly, and it takes you a second to realise that he’s hard, and rubbing up against you, short, sharp breaths against your skin.
“Mhm, John.”
He pulls away from your neck, looking sheepish until he sees the heated look in your eyes. “Yeah?” He asks, smile turning smug.
“Shut up.” You mutter, capturing his lips with your own. He melts into it immediately, kissing back with fervour, and you tighten your hands in his hair. His head tilts, and when his mouth opens against yours, you lick into it and he lets out an obscene moan. He pulls you even further into him, if that’s possible, and slides a thigh between your legs so you’re rutting against each other like teenagers, the friction delicious.
Eventually, Carter’s mouth leaves yours, only to start dragging open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His teeth graze against your neck and you buck against him, whining and burying your face in his hair. He’s so attentive, so good at noticing the spots that have you sighing slightly louder than others and homing in on them. He’s slowly kissing downwards, and before you know it, he’s pushing up the oversized shirt you wear to sleep and capturing a nipple in his mouth. Your back arches up at the ceiling, hand fisting the sheets, thighs grinding against him.
“Oh fuck- John-“ You gasp out, and you feel the bite of his teeth as he grins against your skin.
“Feels good?” He asks, and when you look down, his eyes are on yours, that smug look back in them.
“You know it does.” You whine, and he returns to his task immediately, left hand coming up to pinch at the nipple not in his mouth. It’s a lot, and combined with the slick grind of your hips against his thigh, you can feel the fire licking through your veins, your face heating up and your breaths coming in shorter pants. Carter mouths his way over to your other nipple, replacing his fingers and lavishing his tongue over the hardened bud, his right hand now coming up to where his mouth just was.
“John- I need- I- Ah-“ You rut desperately against him, feeling the heat climbing, climbing- and then he pulls away from you, pushing up onto his right elbow, leaving you whining at the loss of stimulation. “Why did you-“
“Tell me what you want.” He murmurs, hand stroking down over your waist, your hip, your thighs.
“Hands, mouth, anything. Need you, please John, please-“
His hand creeps inwards towards the apex of your thighs, sparks following in its wake, and when his thumb finally comes up to brush against your heat through your underwear, your whole body jolts with it.
He looks up at you then, pupils blown, just as wrecked as you feel. “Fuck, these are-“ He swipes his thumb again, “These are ruined.”
“Stop teasing, please, baby-“
His thumb hooks up under the waistband of your underwear, pulling down the sticky fabric, mouth right over yours. “Not teasing. Not.” He mutters. “Just making you feel good. Taking my time.”
“Taking too much time.” You grumble, and he huffs a laugh.
He kisses you on the mouth again, once, sweetly, before retracing his path downwards, going further this time, kissing down past your chest, your stomach, before stopping right where you need him. His breath ghosts over the patch of hair on your mons, and you writhe, about to complain again, say something, anything to get him to move, when his fingers finally breach your lips, sliding against the wetness pooling between your legs, and you end up crying out instead.
“F-fucking finally.”
Carter’s looking at your glistening folds with absolute reverence, pulling back his soaked fingers and marvelling at the wetness glistening in the light. “Do I really get you this wet?” He asks, big brown eyes looking up at you, eyebrows drawn up, a question, like you would actually say no.
“Shit-“ You thrust upwards again, “Yes, God, yes- all the time. Always.”
“Always?”
“At work, all the time. Fuck- when you take command, or- or you keep, looking at me, like you can see through my fucking scrubs-“
His arms come up then, wrapping around your thighs suddenly, pushing them apart, pulling you forward, finally into his mouth, and you’re practically yelling, arching so far off the bed you can see the headboard.
“Oh my God-“ You whine, drawing it out, as his mouth latches onto your clit, no preamble, no more teasing, just sucking, licking, giving you exactly what you’ve been waiting for. His attentiveness is perfect, he seems to know exactly which of your moans means what, which gasp means pleasure, and which means his actions are teetering into pain.
And it's not just you making noise. You can hear Carter even over the heartbeat in your ears, and God is it hot. He's moaning wantonly into your wetness, the sound echoing, rivalling your own pleasure. At one point, you thread your hand into his hair and tug, and he actually whines, pressing his face further into you, trying to pull you forward. You look up as he does this, and catch a glimpse of his hips moving against the bed, every other thrust accompanied by a noise.
"Ah- John-" You're trying to ask for something, but your brain can't reach past the haze to produce a coherent sentence. Somehow, Carter still works it out, one hand coming down off of your thighs to allow him to slip his middle finger inside of your slick hole.
"That's- oh- that's it." You cry out, grinding forward into Carter's face. He presses his other hand down at the bottom of your stomach and you gasp, feeling the heat pooling fast now, especially as he slides a second finger in with ease, curling upwards in the exact right way against your walls.
You grind harder as you feel the heat build, legs shaking, breath coming even faster. "Oh- oh- I'm gonna-" you gasp out, and Carter hums, continuing exactly what he's doing, letting you take the reins with your hands and your hips, enjoying being used however you determine.
Finally you go taut all over, feeling the dam burst, thrusting upwards, gripping Carter's hair so hard it must hurt him. As your orgasm washes over you, you babble, an incoherent mix of noises and words falling from your mouth, hips grinding until the feeling of his mouth against you tips over into overstimulation and you're pulling away, having to yank Carter off of you to make him stop.
After he pulls away, sitting back on his heels, you look up at him. He's debauched, hair sticking up at all angles, face drenched from his nose down, cheeks bright red. You giggle a little and he ducks his head, hand haphazardly attempting to smooth down his hair.
"That was- oh-" You sigh out, chest still heaving a little.
"Yeah?" Carter asks, grinning self-satisfied. You nod ardently, and push yourself up, raising to where he sits, kneeling on shaking calves. He looks so cute like this, you can't help pulling him forward by the nape of his neck, kissing him open-mouthed. He responds in kind, sucking on your tongue, making you weak all over again.
"Can I return the favour?" You ask, pulling away and tilting your head. He looks down again, abashed.
"I- uh- I already-" He looks down, blushing, and motions at his lower half. You follow his eyes, see the soaked front of his boxers and giggle.
"That's really hot." You smile, and he looks up, eyebrows drawing upwards and together.
"Really? I usually try anything to stave it off."
"Yeah, it's an ego boost."
He looks relieved, "I mean, I'll be good to go again in about five minutes."
A cheeky smile plays on your lips, and you pull him closer again, breathing against each other's mouths, "Well, whatever should we do for those five minutes?"
"I can think of a few things…"