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Maybe he should’ve expected this, for his old mentor to seek him out the moment he discovered they were matched together. It wasn’t surprising if the man had some unfinished business with him, Luca knew this better than anyone. Still, he’d hoped he could get away with avoiding Alva the whole match—that would’ve been the best case scenario. Worst case scenario, he’d be first kite, royally fuck it up, and embarrass himself in front of his teammates and the man who mentored him.
When Alva appears mere moments into the match, it seems to be leaning more in the “worst case scenario” direction. Luca makes the mistake of looking at him, letting their eyes meet, and it’s a long enough distraction for Alva to take the opportunity to clock him with the staff in his hand.
Luca tastes dirt. It seemed to happen more often than not, lately, but this time was different—it was different, because Alva was on top of him, boxing him in instead of carrying his sorry ass away. Slender fingers toss aside his utility belt, prying Luca’s pants off at record speeds. The crisp outside air against his bare skin makes Luca shiver, and the insinuation of what was to come wasn’t lost on him, but the moment he tries to struggle, Alva thwacks the back of Luca’s head with his staff, making him dizzy and disoriented. It’s during this moment when he’s rolled onto his back, head lolling to the side lazily, vision swimming as he watches four different Alvas stare back at him.
There’s two of him when something thick and hot pulses against the folds of his pussy.
“N-no—“ Luca manages to gasp, reaching out with one hand, “ ngh , wait—“
He’s not even certain what he wants to say. ‘Wait, please don't’? ‘Wait, slow down’? ‘Wait, at least use some kind of lube for the love of God’? It hardly mattered. Alva wasn’t going to stop, that much was clear. Luca wasn’t stupid .
But he was pissed. Alva couldn’t just beat the shit out of him like a normal person? Like a normal hunter? This was how he was going to do things—as if what he’d done to Luca’s father after fucking him wasn’t bad enough?
Alva wastes no time, shoving his cock firmly inside Luca without a word of warning. Luca grit his teeth, pain shooting up his body like a bolt of electricity—though he’d much prefer an electric shock, in this case. At least that was something he was used to. This was new. This complete and utter violation of his own bodily autonomy, forced upon him by a man he once looked up to, who now stared down at him with a cold indifference.
No, not indifference. Thinly veiled hatred.
Two could play at that game. Though every inch of him shook, Luca forced his arm forward, taking a fistful of Alva’s coat in his hand. He yanks on it with all his might, pulling the man closer, practically nose to nose.
“This is how you wanna do it, huh? You wanna play the victim and then pull some shit like this? Go on, then. Try me. I’ll give you Hell.”
To emphasize this very claim, Luca spits on his face.
Alva looks displeased, to say the least. He promptly backhands Luca, wiping his cheek clean when he falls flat against the ground, face throbbing from the slap. He wouldn’t stop there—he promised Hell, he was going to deliver. He pulls his gloves from his hands, grabbing at Alva’s hands on his waist, digging his nails into the skin. Alva hisses in pain, but doesn’t pull away—instead, he digs his own nails into Luca’s waist, tightening his grip on the survivor beneath him until Luca is nearly certain he hears his own bone crack.
That must just be his imagination, though, right?
Though his expression remains stoic, Luca knows he’s mad—it’s obvious in the way he slams inside Luca, pulling back and thrusting forward with enough force to bruise when their hips make contact, skin slapping against skin loud enough that it echoes .
The pain is nearly enough to make him pass out, from Alva’s sheer size to the lack of preparation beforehand to the hard, rocky ground he was pinned against. Regardless, Luca desperately hangs on, swinging his leg at Alva’s side in an attempt to harm him. It’s a bit difficult from the angle they’re at, with Luca’s legs spread apart in the way they were, but he tries regardless. However, Alva catches his leg and shoves it against the ground, pinning it with one hand before continuing to fuck Luca brutally against the cold, hard Earth.
In a surprising turn of events, Luca realizes his body isn’t just awash with pain— but also with a slowly building, fucked up form of pleasure. It starts from his groin, gradually spreading throughout his body, and he can do nothing more than shake his head. No, no, he wouldn’t allow this. He couldn’t . He feels shame—shame that his body would dare to do such a thing, shame that he’s finding even an inkling of pleasure in this fucked up situaton.
He doesn’t realize he's moaning until one of Alva’s hands cups his chin, thumb brushing Luca’s lip curiously.
Fuck that.
Luca bites him.
Though Alva wrenches away quickly, shaking his hand, Luca can see that he actually drew blood. That very fact makes him smirk, feeling a sense of pride—but it doesn’t last. With a simple twitch of his brow, Alva actually looked angry, and without a moment’s hesitation, he shot out his hand, wrapping it around Luca’s throat.
Although Luca’s hands claw at Alva’s, although he flails his legs, although he desperately gasps for breath, his mentor doesn’t stop. He tightens his hold, fucking into Luca with newfound vigor, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. Luca can do nothing but stare straight up, directly into Alva’s eyes, sickened by the glimmer of delight he sees.
Luca’s vision wanes, growing hazy and splotchy as Alva uses his body for his own pleasure, squeezing the very life from Luca with each passing second. His vision is all but gone when Alva slams inside, stilling and cumming inside Luca with a barely audible grunt.
And suddenly, both his hand and his cock are gone.
Luca gasps for air, rolling onto his side as he heaves, blinking slowly as his vision slowly returns.
He doesn’t know how long he lays there, gasping and staring at nothing, cum steadily trickling out of his aching pussy, but by the time he slowly pushes himself up onto this palms of his hands, Alva is gone.
Good fucking riddance .