Prank Like A Bear Trap

The giggles are what wakes her up, and as such her first thoughts, still muddied by sleep, can be summarized as: ah, fuck.

“Alright, guys.” She grumbles, voice still tired. “You got me here. How many dicks did you draw on my face?”

“Oh- you know.” She blinks herself awake, once, twice, until finally Ritsuka’s face appears in her field of vision. They look like they’re refraining a laugh, the asshole. “Just the appropriate amount.”

On the side, Oberon rolls his eyes. “You really think we’d go for drawing dicks? How old do you think we are, five?”

Both true statement, which also mean nothing at all. Argh, Artoria’s friends are the worst. That’ll teach her to fall asleep during a sleepover. “You guys suck. I’m gonna wash my face off.” On these wise words, she gets up, and heads off to the bathroom. Uuurgh, she still feels sluggish as hell too. These two suck sooo hard.

To her surprise though, no dicks greet her when she looks in the mirror, nor do any sort of whiskers, doodles, or other pranks. Somehow, this strikes her as even more suspicious. If they didn’t draw on her, then what did they do? They sure didn’t look innocent.

Urgh, and her collar’s all mussed now, whether from sleep or pranks. She brings her fingers up to straighten it up-

-only to see the smallest hint of a marker against her collarbone.

… They didn’t. They didn’t.

Frantically, she pulls her shirt off. She glances back at the mirror afterwards, blinking madly, and sees-

Written all over her sternum, right between her breasts, a single sentence: Squeeze dick here <3

Her gaze goes down. On her womb, Oberon’s unmistakable chicken-scratch, followed by an arrow pointing down: Cumdump.

Blood rushes up her face, her glamour shattering all at once. These- these fucking-

“Artoria? You good?”

She’s going to fucking kill them both.

She bursts out of the bathroom like a whirlwind. At the sight of her half-naked body, Oberon bursts out laughing. Good. He’s so busy busting a gut that he registers a little too late that forty-two kilograms of pure fury is about to body-check him. By the time he realizes his mistake- it’s too late. Her shoulder collides with his chest, and she throws him against the wall.

“Oof- girl, don’t you know how to take a jo- mmf!” Oberon is so much more agreeable when he shuts the fuck up, and sliding a tongue in his mouth is always a surefire way to achieve that end. Artoria kisses him roughly, pressing against him with all her weight.

Sadly, she has to breathe eventually, and this idiot takes it as permission to speak. “Jeez, I knew you were a freak who got off being called a whore, but I didn’t expect- ouch!” There we go. She bites him at the junction of the neck and the shoulder. This is no gentle nibble; this one is meant to hurt, and hurt bad. “What are you, an animal?!”

“Yes.” She growls out. She sees him open his mouth. He quickly closes it when she presses her knee between his legs. He’s hard, of course. The insect of the abyss can only pretend to be above such desires. “And I think you forgot just how fragile of a prey you are, fairy prince.”

“Edgy much? You aren’t- you- you really-” Every pass of her knee makes him forget where his sentence is supposed to go. Clearly scrambling to get the upper hand back, he tries to grab her arms-

Bad move. She takes hold of his wrists so tightly her nails dig inside his flesh, then pins them on either side of him. His skin will surely show bruises for it. Good.

“You fucking wish.” She growls by his ear. “You fucking wish you could dump your come inside of me. You fucking wish you could even just come on me.” She makes a point not to use her hands for anything but to restrain him. If he wants release, this is all he’s gonna get. “But you don’t deserve that. All filthy little bugs like you deserve is to cream their own pants like a bitch.”

His breathing stumbles, stutters. He tries to fight back some more, but he’s so easy- a nip at the throat, her tongue in his mouth, forcing him to taste his own blood- soon he falls silent, his only alternative to begging- and another well-timed grind of her leg has him going limp against her.

Heh. So much for Britain’s embodied wrath.

She should bully him some more. It would be easy; she doubts he’d do much if she threw him down and clawed at his belly. She should make him bleed and ache in repentance, and maybe if he asks nicely enough she’ll let him eat her out as an apology.

This will have to wait, though. They’re not the only two here, after all.

Slowly, Artoria turns around. Ritsuka is staring at the both of them with wide eyes, face flushed, mouth agape. Their cock is hard in their hand, hastily fished out of their pajama pants.

Artoria clicks her tongue. “I don’t recall giving you permission to touch yourself.”

Ritsuka takes them hand back so fast it looks like they got burned. “I- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean- we just wanted to joke around-”

“You talk a lot, for a mangy pet.”

Ritsuka falls silent.

Casually, Artoria walks to the side, pulling open a familiar drawer. Manacles and leather restraints fill most of it. She’s made them herself; they’re efficient, safe, and don’t leave any marks behind.

Artoria ignores them completely in favor for the red rope at the bottom. They wanted to play, she’s going to fucking play. “I see I’ve been too lenient on you both.” She wraps that rope around her hand. The texture is rough, prone to burning the skin. A feral grin breaks over her face. They’re going to feel this for days. “It’s time to train some respect back into you.”