FIC: "Brutal Love," Samantha Shaw(/Root), explicit
Title: Brutal Love
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Person of Interest
Self-Lover: Samantha Shaw
Spoilers: Relevance, Trojan Horse, God Mode
Words: 1,138
Date: May 17
The post to suggest future pairings/stories!
Warnings: Auto-erotic asphyxiation and pain play. Because, you guys, the show freaking made it canon. Shaw is a sexy bitch.
Summary: Shaw fixates on her enemy in more ways than one.
AO3 link
SHAW: "One of the things they left out of my file? I kind of enjoy this sort of thing."
ROOT: "I am so glad you said that. I do, too!"
She doesn't hate Root. That would be too easy and too messy all at the same time. She doesn't desire vengeance. Instead she feels a sense of incompleteness. A debt accrued that she must balance. She admits she will feel pleasure at the woman's death, but only the pleasure of a job successfully completed. Root, also known as Sam Groves according to the records she managed to find. The woman who beat her and held her prisoner, who lashed her to a chair and proceeded to torture her for information.
Root didn't know who she was messing with.
In a hotel room in a bad part of town, where security cameras are sparse or unreliable, Shaw sits on the floor with her back to the bed. Her legs are stretched out in front of her. She wears a bra and panties, her skin still supple from the shower. Her hair is wet and in her eyes, and Scotch-taped to the wall directly in front of her is the photo she took from Harold's den.
She keeps her eyes on the picture, on the woman's cartoonishly wide brown eyes. She looks sweet, like a bank teller or an elementary school teacher. She wears the mask well, uses it to hide her true nature as a beast. A killer, assassin, an Oz behind the curtain who uses other people as weapons. The way ISA used Shaw, she thinks ruefully. But Root is a rogue. She cannot be allowed to continue with her plans. Shaw knows that Harold and John will be too compassionate to do the right thing when the time comes.
That's where Shaw plans to step in.
She plans to kill Root. But not at first. First, she will have a little fun with the hacker, the woman trying to elevate herself to godhood using an entity someone else created. She's a leech and a thief, a parasite. Shaw plans to put Root in her place before putting her in the ground.
Shaw's feet are bare. Her left hand is between her legs, and the fingers of her right hand have a leather strap around then. The strap runs limp between her hand and throat, where it circles in a loose slipknot. Shaw strokes herself as she stares at Root, stretching her arm until the strap grows taut. The slipknot does its job and tightens, and her lips part in an automatic reaction.
Having her breath cut off reminds her of the helpless feeling she had in the apartment, with Root standing over her. Tased, unable to move or defend herself... Anything could happen. She could have been hurt. Badly hurt. She could be killed. And there was nothing to compare with the thrill of surviving that.
She's always lived on the edge when it came to sexual gratification. What other Marines called torture, she called foreplay. Training was like one long tease, and few were the days that didn't find her giving herself release in the showers. She didn't care if people were around; let them watch. It only added to the thrill. And the few times one of them tried to take advantage, she fought them off and then fucked them until they begged for mercy. What they tried to take, she used as a weapon.
Root wants to terrorize her? Good luck. Reese had been wet when she finally got away from the crazy-eyed hacker. And every time she's masturbated since, it was to the memory of being held captive, of being at Root's whim, knowing that she couldn't stop what was about to happen. She pulls the strap tight again and clenches her teeth. Her lungs ache. She dances her middle finger over her labia to moisten it before she drags it up to circle her clitoris.
She wonders what would have happened. Would Root of burnt her? She draws in a sharp breath that can't do anything to help her, trembling now as she moves her fingers back down. Would she have seen the joy on Root's face as the smoke rose from her skin? How would it feel to be... She grunts and closes her eyes as she imagines Root's face twisted in the pleasure of inflicting pain.
And then she would have turned the tables. She would have gotten back control of her body and she would have given as good as she'd gotten. She imagined ripping off Root's clothes, crashing through the furniture until she was pinned to the ground. She would start with the Taser so she wouldn't have to worry about Root's flailing and fighting. And then...
...the fun would begin.
She couldn't be bothered coming up with details. She only saw Root's face, the amalgam of pain and pleasure writ on her features, bottom lip quivering, tears in her eyes. She saw her fingers twisting the sadistic bitch's nipples, pressing her thigh between those lean thighs, fucking her even as she fought her.
The need for a brutal love has been something she's wanted for ages, but she's never been able to find the right person. They always either go too far or not far enough, they focus too much on one thing and not the other. But Root...? Root would strike that balance perfectly. Shaw was only worried about keeping up with her, but she was willing to give it a chance. And the knowledge they hate each other would just make it hotter. The threat of real damage would be ever-present. She bares her teeth and growls as best she can without air in her lungs, the thrashing only make it harder for her to breathe as her noose is drawn tighter.
Finally she feels the orgasm building like an explosion, inevitable in its approach, and her eyes open and focus on the ceiling as it overtakes the burn of deprivation and fills her body with pleasure. Her face tingles; she can barely feel her extremities; she feels on the verge of a seizure as her muscles tighten around her fingers.
She reaches up and removes her noose, her throat raw and burning as she draws in a rough breath. Her other hand is held up, the moisture on her fingers catching the light. She brings it forward and slips one finger into her mouth. She imagines forcing Root to suck it as she sweeps her tongue over the pad. She slips the other finger into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks it clean as well. She smacks her lips and looks at her hand, then aims the index finger at Root's picture. Her mouth curls into a cruel smile, her eyes narrowing as she sights along the finger wet with her juices and spit.
She will find Root.
She will kill her.
But first, she plans to have some fun with her.
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Person of Interest
Self-Lover: Samantha Shaw
Spoilers: Relevance, Trojan Horse, God Mode
Words: 1,138
Date: May 17
The post to suggest future pairings/stories!
Warnings: Auto-erotic asphyxiation and pain play. Because, you guys, the show freaking made it canon. Shaw is a sexy bitch.
Summary: Shaw fixates on her enemy in more ways than one.
AO3 link
SHAW: "One of the things they left out of my file? I kind of enjoy this sort of thing."
ROOT: "I am so glad you said that. I do, too!"
She doesn't hate Root. That would be too easy and too messy all at the same time. She doesn't desire vengeance. Instead she feels a sense of incompleteness. A debt accrued that she must balance. She admits she will feel pleasure at the woman's death, but only the pleasure of a job successfully completed. Root, also known as Sam Groves according to the records she managed to find. The woman who beat her and held her prisoner, who lashed her to a chair and proceeded to torture her for information.
Root didn't know who she was messing with.
In a hotel room in a bad part of town, where security cameras are sparse or unreliable, Shaw sits on the floor with her back to the bed. Her legs are stretched out in front of her. She wears a bra and panties, her skin still supple from the shower. Her hair is wet and in her eyes, and Scotch-taped to the wall directly in front of her is the photo she took from Harold's den.
She keeps her eyes on the picture, on the woman's cartoonishly wide brown eyes. She looks sweet, like a bank teller or an elementary school teacher. She wears the mask well, uses it to hide her true nature as a beast. A killer, assassin, an Oz behind the curtain who uses other people as weapons. The way ISA used Shaw, she thinks ruefully. But Root is a rogue. She cannot be allowed to continue with her plans. Shaw knows that Harold and John will be too compassionate to do the right thing when the time comes.
That's where Shaw plans to step in.
She plans to kill Root. But not at first. First, she will have a little fun with the hacker, the woman trying to elevate herself to godhood using an entity someone else created. She's a leech and a thief, a parasite. Shaw plans to put Root in her place before putting her in the ground.
Shaw's feet are bare. Her left hand is between her legs, and the fingers of her right hand have a leather strap around then. The strap runs limp between her hand and throat, where it circles in a loose slipknot. Shaw strokes herself as she stares at Root, stretching her arm until the strap grows taut. The slipknot does its job and tightens, and her lips part in an automatic reaction.
Having her breath cut off reminds her of the helpless feeling she had in the apartment, with Root standing over her. Tased, unable to move or defend herself... Anything could happen. She could have been hurt. Badly hurt. She could be killed. And there was nothing to compare with the thrill of surviving that.
She's always lived on the edge when it came to sexual gratification. What other Marines called torture, she called foreplay. Training was like one long tease, and few were the days that didn't find her giving herself release in the showers. She didn't care if people were around; let them watch. It only added to the thrill. And the few times one of them tried to take advantage, she fought them off and then fucked them until they begged for mercy. What they tried to take, she used as a weapon.
Root wants to terrorize her? Good luck. Reese had been wet when she finally got away from the crazy-eyed hacker. And every time she's masturbated since, it was to the memory of being held captive, of being at Root's whim, knowing that she couldn't stop what was about to happen. She pulls the strap tight again and clenches her teeth. Her lungs ache. She dances her middle finger over her labia to moisten it before she drags it up to circle her clitoris.
She wonders what would have happened. Would Root of burnt her? She draws in a sharp breath that can't do anything to help her, trembling now as she moves her fingers back down. Would she have seen the joy on Root's face as the smoke rose from her skin? How would it feel to be... She grunts and closes her eyes as she imagines Root's face twisted in the pleasure of inflicting pain.
And then she would have turned the tables. She would have gotten back control of her body and she would have given as good as she'd gotten. She imagined ripping off Root's clothes, crashing through the furniture until she was pinned to the ground. She would start with the Taser so she wouldn't have to worry about Root's flailing and fighting. And then...
...the fun would begin.
She couldn't be bothered coming up with details. She only saw Root's face, the amalgam of pain and pleasure writ on her features, bottom lip quivering, tears in her eyes. She saw her fingers twisting the sadistic bitch's nipples, pressing her thigh between those lean thighs, fucking her even as she fought her.
The need for a brutal love has been something she's wanted for ages, but she's never been able to find the right person. They always either go too far or not far enough, they focus too much on one thing and not the other. But Root...? Root would strike that balance perfectly. Shaw was only worried about keeping up with her, but she was willing to give it a chance. And the knowledge they hate each other would just make it hotter. The threat of real damage would be ever-present. She bares her teeth and growls as best she can without air in her lungs, the thrashing only make it harder for her to breathe as her noose is drawn tighter.
Finally she feels the orgasm building like an explosion, inevitable in its approach, and her eyes open and focus on the ceiling as it overtakes the burn of deprivation and fills her body with pleasure. Her face tingles; she can barely feel her extremities; she feels on the verge of a seizure as her muscles tighten around her fingers.
She reaches up and removes her noose, her throat raw and burning as she draws in a rough breath. Her other hand is held up, the moisture on her fingers catching the light. She brings it forward and slips one finger into her mouth. She imagines forcing Root to suck it as she sweeps her tongue over the pad. She slips the other finger into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing as she sucks it clean as well. She smacks her lips and looks at her hand, then aims the index finger at Root's picture. Her mouth curls into a cruel smile, her eyes narrowing as she sights along the finger wet with her juices and spit.
She will find Root.
She will kill her.
But first, she plans to have some fun with her.