(The Avengers) Spars And Sparks
Title: Spars And Sparks
Fandom: The Avengers (movieverse)
Pairing: Maria/Natasha
Rating: R
Words: 1033
Notes: Breathplay. Rough play. For the Fireworks porn battle at femslash_today, prompt "Maria Hill/Natasha Romanoff, training", and avengers_tables, prompt "abrupt".
Summary: Fighting back in a different way.
Maria hates training with Natasha.
She understands the value of it, of course. Natasha is one of, if not the most highly skilled agent in SHIELD when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.
And that’s why Maria hates it. Because she never wins.
Again, she understands it. She needs to learn from her betters, to in turn better herself. And there are few instructors left who can better her. At best, they give her a decent workout before she has them pinned to the mats.
Maria has never pinned Natasha to the mats.
And that’s the crux of it.
Maria hates being pinned.
It gets to her on some deep, psychological level that she has no interest in exploring. Drives her near-crazy with anger, and she can pretend she’s not feeling it, act professional for her sparring sessions, but it’s still there, eating at her mind with red-hot rage.
Natasha never brags when she pins Maria.
She’s seen Natasha sparring with other agents, and she can and will brag, long and loud and colourful with it. But that’s what those agents need to get their blood pounding, to get them focused, to push them into fighting back harder.
Natasha’s adaptable, and she can read people just that well to know what they need from her.
But when Natasha pins Maria, she simply counts off and then steps back and succinctly lists Maria’s missteps and ways she could improve.
She never offers Maria a hand up. Maria would never accept it.
Maria suspects it’s because Natasha understands her.
She suspects Natasha may feel the same way about being pinned.
Because the few times Maria has come close to pinning Natasha, and she is very proud of those few times, Natasha has grown vicious.
No pulled punches, fighting dirty, fighting mean, lashing out and leaving Maria bruised and frequently bloody.
Maria knows that she tends to get the same way when she feels a fight not going her way. It’s just that Natasha is skilled enough to avoid Maria’s worst.
It pisses Maria off.
So when her back hits the mats once again with enough force to drive the breath out of her, it makes Maria angry. And her mind is buzzing with adrenaline, frustration coursing through her, so she’s not really thinking when she reaches up and grabs Natasha’s collar.
She’s not really thinking when she sinks her teeth into the side of Natasha’s neck.
It’s a hard bite, not enough to break the skin, but still enough to hurt.
Maria hears Natasha gasp above her, soft surprised sound Maria’s never heard from her lips before.
She’s already pulling back, but Natasha’s faster. Hand around Maria’s throat, slamming her head down against the floor, and if it wasn’t for the mats Maria would probably have a concussion.
Natasha’s lips are a thin, tight line, eyes narrowed and jaw tense. Studying Maria, gaze flicking over her face.
Maria won’t apologise.
And then Natasha’s mouth is on her, pressing their lips together hard enough to hurt, abrupt and fierce, and it jolts Maria like a gunshot. Flash of sensation, pain and heat, and Natasha’s growling against her mouth.
Maria hears herself growl back.
Hand in Natasha’s hair, getting a fistful so she can pull it, tilt Natasha’s head how she wants her. The hand still on Maria’s throat squeezes a little, just enough to make her feel it, and Maria hisses into the kiss and gets one thigh up against Natasha’s hip.
Wraps the back of her calf around Natasha’s legs, urging her weight down, and she’s never liked being pinned so she’s not expecting Natasha’s full weight on her to feel so good.
Still kissing, except it’s like they’re still sparring, like a fight. Biting lips, scraping teeth, and Maria fights a shiver by shoving her thigh up between Natasha’s legs. Rubs hard and rough, and Natasha stiffens for just a second before she grinds down against the pressure.
Shouldn’t be so fucking hot, but it is.
Pulling back to stare down at Maria, eyes wild and dark.
There’s blood on her lip.
Maria bares her teeth.
One hand reaching around to grab at Natasha’s ass, to pull her down as Maria’s thigh pushes up against her, and she can feel Natasha’s heat through the fabric of their uniforms.
Hand still on her throat, and Natasha gives another warning squeeze, but Maria arches into it, lets her eyes flutter as she feels it.
Natasha shifts, graceful yet efficient, until her thigh is rubbing high between Maria’s legs as well. Hips rolling against each other, not kissing now but panting into each other’s mouths, eyes locked. Different kind of battle, but Maria can feel her gaze growing hazy. Sees it on Natasha’s face too, her eyes becoming glassy, the lines of her mouth softer than before.
Friction and the smell of fresh sweat making her mouth want to water. Strong thigh rubbing against her, and she’s so ready for it, so needy for it.
Maria is so damn close.
She can feel it starting at the base of her spine, tightness and tension, before the warmth spreads through her sudden enough to make her dizzy, flushing, pulse throbbing maddeningly between her legs. Feels her eyes rolling, hips bucking up hard enough to almost knock Natasha off, but Natasha’s too damn centred for that.
Low, rough groan spilling from her lips, and her hand squeezes Natasha’s ass savagely, and she hopes it leaves bruises as she falls into completion.
Spinning inside her own mind, and she’s vaguely aware of Natasha reaching her own release, coming with just a sharp inhale of breath and a shudder.
She can feel Natasha’s thumb stroking the side of her neck almost gently.
It takes a long moment for Maria to find the strength to open her eyes.
When she does, Natasha is looking at her with an unreadable expression, her gaze carefully blank.
“Good spar,” Maria murmurs, and she has no idea what her own face must look like.
“Yeah, it was,” Natasha smirks, and she pushes up on hands either side of Maria’s head, unfolds herself to standing effortlessly.
She doesn’t offer Maria a hand up. Maria would never accept it.
Fandom: The Avengers (movieverse)
Pairing: Maria/Natasha
Rating: R
Words: 1033
Notes: Breathplay. Rough play. For the Fireworks porn battle at femslash_today, prompt "Maria Hill/Natasha Romanoff, training", and avengers_tables, prompt "abrupt".
Summary: Fighting back in a different way.
Maria hates training with Natasha.
She understands the value of it, of course. Natasha is one of, if not the most highly skilled agent in SHIELD when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.
And that’s why Maria hates it. Because she never wins.
Again, she understands it. She needs to learn from her betters, to in turn better herself. And there are few instructors left who can better her. At best, they give her a decent workout before she has them pinned to the mats.
Maria has never pinned Natasha to the mats.
And that’s the crux of it.
Maria hates being pinned.
It gets to her on some deep, psychological level that she has no interest in exploring. Drives her near-crazy with anger, and she can pretend she’s not feeling it, act professional for her sparring sessions, but it’s still there, eating at her mind with red-hot rage.
Natasha never brags when she pins Maria.
She’s seen Natasha sparring with other agents, and she can and will brag, long and loud and colourful with it. But that’s what those agents need to get their blood pounding, to get them focused, to push them into fighting back harder.
Natasha’s adaptable, and she can read people just that well to know what they need from her.
But when Natasha pins Maria, she simply counts off and then steps back and succinctly lists Maria’s missteps and ways she could improve.
She never offers Maria a hand up. Maria would never accept it.
Maria suspects it’s because Natasha understands her.
She suspects Natasha may feel the same way about being pinned.
Because the few times Maria has come close to pinning Natasha, and she is very proud of those few times, Natasha has grown vicious.
No pulled punches, fighting dirty, fighting mean, lashing out and leaving Maria bruised and frequently bloody.
Maria knows that she tends to get the same way when she feels a fight not going her way. It’s just that Natasha is skilled enough to avoid Maria’s worst.
It pisses Maria off.
So when her back hits the mats once again with enough force to drive the breath out of her, it makes Maria angry. And her mind is buzzing with adrenaline, frustration coursing through her, so she’s not really thinking when she reaches up and grabs Natasha’s collar.
She’s not really thinking when she sinks her teeth into the side of Natasha’s neck.
It’s a hard bite, not enough to break the skin, but still enough to hurt.
Maria hears Natasha gasp above her, soft surprised sound Maria’s never heard from her lips before.
She’s already pulling back, but Natasha’s faster. Hand around Maria’s throat, slamming her head down against the floor, and if it wasn’t for the mats Maria would probably have a concussion.
Natasha’s lips are a thin, tight line, eyes narrowed and jaw tense. Studying Maria, gaze flicking over her face.
Maria won’t apologise.
And then Natasha’s mouth is on her, pressing their lips together hard enough to hurt, abrupt and fierce, and it jolts Maria like a gunshot. Flash of sensation, pain and heat, and Natasha’s growling against her mouth.
Maria hears herself growl back.
Hand in Natasha’s hair, getting a fistful so she can pull it, tilt Natasha’s head how she wants her. The hand still on Maria’s throat squeezes a little, just enough to make her feel it, and Maria hisses into the kiss and gets one thigh up against Natasha’s hip.
Wraps the back of her calf around Natasha’s legs, urging her weight down, and she’s never liked being pinned so she’s not expecting Natasha’s full weight on her to feel so good.
Still kissing, except it’s like they’re still sparring, like a fight. Biting lips, scraping teeth, and Maria fights a shiver by shoving her thigh up between Natasha’s legs. Rubs hard and rough, and Natasha stiffens for just a second before she grinds down against the pressure.
Shouldn’t be so fucking hot, but it is.
Pulling back to stare down at Maria, eyes wild and dark.
There’s blood on her lip.
Maria bares her teeth.
One hand reaching around to grab at Natasha’s ass, to pull her down as Maria’s thigh pushes up against her, and she can feel Natasha’s heat through the fabric of their uniforms.
Hand still on her throat, and Natasha gives another warning squeeze, but Maria arches into it, lets her eyes flutter as she feels it.
Natasha shifts, graceful yet efficient, until her thigh is rubbing high between Maria’s legs as well. Hips rolling against each other, not kissing now but panting into each other’s mouths, eyes locked. Different kind of battle, but Maria can feel her gaze growing hazy. Sees it on Natasha’s face too, her eyes becoming glassy, the lines of her mouth softer than before.
Friction and the smell of fresh sweat making her mouth want to water. Strong thigh rubbing against her, and she’s so ready for it, so needy for it.
Maria is so damn close.
She can feel it starting at the base of her spine, tightness and tension, before the warmth spreads through her sudden enough to make her dizzy, flushing, pulse throbbing maddeningly between her legs. Feels her eyes rolling, hips bucking up hard enough to almost knock Natasha off, but Natasha’s too damn centred for that.
Low, rough groan spilling from her lips, and her hand squeezes Natasha’s ass savagely, and she hopes it leaves bruises as she falls into completion.
Spinning inside her own mind, and she’s vaguely aware of Natasha reaching her own release, coming with just a sharp inhale of breath and a shudder.
She can feel Natasha’s thumb stroking the side of her neck almost gently.
It takes a long moment for Maria to find the strength to open her eyes.
When she does, Natasha is looking at her with an unreadable expression, her gaze carefully blank.
“Good spar,” Maria murmurs, and she has no idea what her own face must look like.
“Yeah, it was,” Natasha smirks, and she pushes up on hands either side of Maria’s head, unfolds herself to standing effortlessly.
She doesn’t offer Maria a hand up. Maria would never accept it.