[His stomach tightens as Wash looks at him, it's only a moment, but long enough for Pietro to catch the amusement in it. It irks him, and his eyes narrow as a soft growl forms in his chest as he tries to mentally grasp any thread of control while his body betrays him. His fingers shake, the muscles in his arms straining to pull at the restraints, muted panic sliding through him as he knows he's pushed too far for himself, but he can't back down. He waits forever in anticipation or apprehension until Wash tightens his grip on his cock, twisting his fingers, and Pietro writhes uncomfortably, letting out a high pitched almost-wailing noise he immediately tries to silence by biting his tongue, but it doesn't quite work.]
Fuck. Fuck...
[The words barely get formed, little squeaks of noise, and Pietro squirms with quick movements, uncertain if he wants to press up into that knife or pull away.]
no subject
Fuck. Fuck...
[The words barely get formed, little squeaks of noise, and Pietro squirms with quick movements, uncertain if he wants to press up into that knife or pull away.]