Work Text:
She’s so beautiful, she’s so fucking beautiful he can’t stop himself from looking at her all the time. And of course she catches him because nothing gets past her.
She never says anything; she just stares at him until he gets spooked and has to look away. He could hear her huff and he knew she was rolling her eyes along with it. Sometimes he thinks she might smile.
She was so expressive and that’s likely half the reason for the helmet. Your cold hearted killing machine can’t be so animated (or goddamn sexy).
The helmet is sexy though. It’s eerie and alluring. He’d give anything to hear her dirty talk through it. Just imagining her perfect accent with the synthetic muffle it added gave him goosebumps. The thought of kneeling at her feet while she looked down at him. Disgust clear even through the unchanging white face, made him dizzy with arousal. He wanted to hump her boots like the dumb horny dog he was reduced to whenever she got mean with him.
He was absolutely not proud of it, but he was only human. He swiped her helmet from her cubby after his workout, and slunk back into the locker room. He just wanted to admire it up close. He took his time running his fingers along the thin seams where the plates met and the ultra fine mesh of the immediate face. But it wasn’t enough. Maybe if he just got it out of his system things would be easier.
He nuzzled against it, the impossibly thin metal warming almost immediately against his cheek.
Look at you. Pathetic. She’d be so mad if she caught him. But that only made him harder.
He cupped the helmet to press kisses to it.
“Ava.”
He wanted to be used for her stress relief, for her comfort, for any damn reason she wanted. He’d be naked and waiting at her beck and call. He could go as long as she wanted, he’d be the best damn lay she’d ever had. If she had...
The thought of being the first one, the only one to please her made him jam his hands into his gym shorts. He tucked the helmet into his neck. Close to the height she’d be if she were right up against him. He tipped his head back imagining the crackling sound of her panting against him.
He jerked himself quickly, too wound up to savor it. His imagination ran wild. The weight of her body against his, the softness of her skin, the noise she’d make. The brutal efficient killing machine having her way with him. The soft clever woman underneath the suit.
He came, hips arching off the bench, fingers curled around the edge of the helmet digging into the padding.
John rested his forehead against the helmet to catch his breath. He kissed it one more time, gently, at the level of it’s mouth. Feeling just a little sheepish he cleaned himself up and set Ava’s helmet back on it’s stand. He gave it one more lingering look before heading back to his room.