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Language:
English
Collections:
Kiss Kiss to You Too, End Racism in the OTW
Stats:
Published:
2014-12-20
Words:
767
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
5
Kudos:
193
Bookmarks:
15
Hits:
4,561

pleasure's pain and fire

Summary:

“I just couldn’t bear it if anyone hurt you. I mean, besides me.”

Notes:

A/N: They sure are the most perfect (canon!) pairing for all sorts of wild kinks, aren’t they? (I mean we did get handcuffs and a furry costume lmao). Written for the Sam² gift exchange. I hope you enjoy your gift, willowcabins!

Work Text:

Shaw’s stopped struggling against her restraints as Root hovers over her, surveying and waiting. Shaw still tugs at the zip ties from time to time, but she’s settled down after an hour of writhing around.

Her wrists are red and bruised from the extensive strain she’s put on them, and Root tisks when Shaw pulls a final time, so violently that the zip tie cuts through her bruised skin.

Root kneels down in front of her, bringing her lips to the small gash Shaw created herself, and runs her tongue along the wound. Shaw’s stutter of breath tells her everything she needs to know. She grabs Shaw’s face between her hands and kisses her.

Shaw kisses back with an equal amount of force, their mouths open against each other, and Root slides her bloodstained tongue along Shaw’s upper lip and groans. She pulls back, and watches as Shaw licks off the blood Root purposely left on her lip.

Shaw is still resilient and unwavering, and Root wants to break her, see her undone and open. She circles behind her and sinks her teeth into the junction of her neck without warning. Shaw gasps in surprise and Root feels her body tense up under her mouth. She licks a slow line across the ridges of the bite, feeling the indents of her teeth on Shaw’s skin.

She bit down hard enough to guarantee a big purpling bruise tomorrow, she'll have to show up at the underground with her coat collar turned up, and the thought sends a pleasurable chill down Root’s spine. She'd love to keep this up longer, but she's fairly certain Shaw's ready to move on. She reaches across and picks up the small knife she thoughtfully prepared.

She comes back into Shaw’s view with a small grin on her face. Shaw glares back at her, the side of her jaw twitching as she grinds her teeth aggressively. Her resilience only urges Root on even more.

She drags the blade gently along Shaw’s shoulder, coming to a halt when it meets the strap of her tank top. She swipes it quickly under the cloth, and Shaw jerks as the strap comes loose with a loud rip; Root had made sure to angle the knife a little steeper than necessary, allowing the tip to slice through the thin skin covering Shaw’s clavicle.

Small bits of blood starts oozing out of the thin cut. Root lets it collect before sliding her thumb across the opening, creating a painted line of red across Shaw’s shoulder.

She continues to slide the blade down Shaw’s body, and casually cuts open the front of her shirt, revealing her bra. Root leans in and takes another bite at the top of Shaw’s firm breast, harder this time, and Shaw cusses loudly at the top of her head.

There’s a bruise on the side of Shaw’s waist from a couple of days ago when she slammed herself against a wall to escape a flurry of bullets, and Root testily presses the heel of her palm into the colorful skin.

The pain is enough to make Shaw lift her hips off the seat to allow Root to push her pants and underwear down far enough to give her fingers room to venture in.

“I almost forgot how much you like this.” Root says gleefully when she feels Shaw’s wetness spread on her fingers.

“Fuck you.” Shaw manages, even as she’s vibrating with unreleased tension.

She moves her hand from the bruise and presses the idle blade firmly along Shaw’s abdomen, cutting deeper, intending for it to be more than just a sting, and Shaw tightens against her instantaneously. She watches as the blood trickles down Shaw's skin and catches it with her lips.

She licks at the wound slowly, enjoying Shaw's small gasps of pain and pleasure, then begins sucking at the side of the wound in earnest, and Shaw lets out a stifled moan as she rocks her hips and fucks herself against Root’s fingers.

Their lips are a bloody mess when Root stretches back up to kiss Shaw, the coppery tang of blood coating their mouths, and Root laps her way into Shaw’s mouth. Moments later, Shaw comes with a low guttural groan as she pulls her lips away from Root, sagging down against the chair.

“I’ll get you back for this.” Shaw growls.

Root smiles at that. Even while tied to a chair, bruised, bleeding and worn out, Shaw still manages to look like a feral beast that wouldn’t hesitate to chew off her limbs. Adorable.

“You’re welcome to try next time.”