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yearsbecomingcool · 6 days ago

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you asked for this

(repost)

pairing(s): adrian chase | vigilante x GN!reader

summary: Vigilante likes pain, more than he would ever freely admit. You like to be the cause of it.

words: 3.7k

cw: explicit, smut, cock & ball torture, torture, interrogation, BDSM, bondage, electrocution, sadism, masochism, brat taming (kinda?), blood kink, con-noncon BDSM scene, consensual sex, blowjobs, masochist!adrian, sub!adrian, aftercare, established safe words, established relationship, fluff at the end

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Sweat drips down his heaving chest, collects on his brow and dampens his dark curls. Eyes shut, his breath stutters through parted lips, rosy with a little bit of blood that he’s drawn from them. His head is hung back on his shoulders, baring his neck and the crisp protrusion of his adam’s apple to your wandering eye.

God, he has such a neck. You want to sink your teeth into it.

“You know, you can always ask for a break if you need one,” you tell him with a base amount of gentility. “I can be generous.”

He laughs up toward the ceiling; a weak, haggard sound that rattles in the back of his throat and turns vaguely toward a cough near the end. He takes a few short breaths afterwards, arms flexing against their restraints, wrists tied to the back legs of the metal chair he sits in.

“Give me your best shot, pal.”

You take an even breath to contrast his shuddering one. Then, you lean forward and bring the wand in your hand between his legs again.

The crackling of electricity fills the air, a vaguely blue glow shining from the conductive metal in the dark. His naked legs tense and flail, his hips arching off of the metal surface beneath him. And oh, how he howls up toward the ceiling, the sound echoing off the barren, dirty warehouse walls and meeting your ears ten times over. It raises the hairs on your neck, rolls something deep in your gut that you’re almost afraid to admit is there. Almost.

Three seconds later you sit back, and the shimmering Adonis before you sinks down into his seat again with a fresh layer of sweat gleaming on his skin.

You’ve been at this for a while now; you periodically electrocuting him between the legs, him proverbially spitting in your face every chance he gets. A vicious cycle of you torturing him, him goading you on, and so on into the night, all because he refuses to give you one piece of information.

“What’s your name?”

“Rumplestiltskin.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Water?”

“Please.”

You reach down to the floor beside your ankle and raise a white plastic water bottle. It’s the kind football players use, large and capable of holding a full quart at once.

You point it towards him and spray him in the face like a dog.

He splutters. You’re sure that with your aim he managed to inhale some of it. He tilts his soaked face towards you finally, a thin rivulet of blood running from his lip down his chin along with the droplets of fresh water. His eyes flash at you in tired annoyance. “The fuck was that for?”

“You didn’t specify how you wanted it.”

The insinuation hangs solidly in the air. You cross your legs, the leather of your pants creaking as it moves. His bright green eyes trail that movement, his lips parted still as he tries to catch his breath, and you catch a glimpse of another emotion underlying all that pain and exhaustion. A dark swell crawls along your skin at the thought.

Pretty boy.

“I don’t think you got enough of it up my nose that time,” he says blandly after a moment. “I haven’t done my weekly neti pot, do you think you could-”

Your hand tightens on the bottle, and a projectile stream of water hits him squarely between the eyes. His head flies back, water dripping down the sides of his face.

“Thanks.”

You bark a laugh. “Such a polite little brat. A cute juxtaposition, if ever there was one.”

He gives you a quiet hmph, his head slumped forward just enough that you can’t see his eyes past the matted curtain of curls over his forehead. His body has finally relaxed after its last jolt to the point that his thighs part just enough, giving you a prime view of what he has to work with.

Very pretty boy.

“I didn’t know you’d be such a glutton for pain, Vigilante.” The words roll off your tongue easily, but something about that nickname is clunky. It arrests the flow of the sentence, throwing a wrench in the works and making it come out almost wrong. Perhaps that was the desired effect, or perhaps he just isn’t very skillful at coming up with code names.

Vigilante looks up at you from beneath his lashes, heavy lidded eyes scowling at you through the dark. “Think I’d do any of this shit if I didn’t like it?”

A wolfish smile spreads across your face. “You should really run away when you can.”

“Y’know, Mozart wrote a song called ‘Lick My Ass.’ You should listen to it sometime.”

You slam the metal rod in your hands between his legs again, ensuring that it smacks hard against his balls before you turn it on, and the sharp sound of electricity crackles over the din of his shouting.

“HOOOOOOHHHH FUCK!”

This time you pull away after five seconds, just to salt the wound. Even after the current is lifted from him, he writhes, head tossed back, hips pushed out so far toward you that you can’t help but admire his cock. Flushed, swollen, and impressively hard. He doesn’t seem to be shy about it, but you guess he has bigger things to worry about at the moment.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he hisses, his face contorted in pain as he slowly lowers back into a semi-comfortable position. A vein jumps out of his neck, his teeth bared as he gurgles something in the back of his throat that sounds like another snarky insult towards you.

“You’re very resilient. I’m impressed.” You tap the dormant wand against your boot, leaning back in your chair again. You watch him, riveted as though you’re watching a movie. Small whimpers come out of his mouth with each quiet breath, his tongue darting out to stave off the blood seeping from his cracked lip. A deep bruise colors a spot just beneath his sharp jaw, purple fading to yellow already. With a hint of amusement, you observe, “That’s a pretty mark. Got someone waiting for you at home?”

He makes a short noise of protest. “Fuck off.��

“Ah. So, Vigilante’s got a partner. That’s sweet. Surprising, but sweet.” You tilt your head at him. “Do they know how much you like getting your balls fried?”

He pants, lifting his head a bit to fix his dilated eyes on your face. “Theoretically… if I had someone… and they knew that… I bet they could still do it better than this.”

You grin. “What’s your name, Vigilante?”

“Bruce fucking Wayne.”

This time, he almost starts yelling before the wand touches him. Unwilling to start letting him anticipate the pain, you pull away so quickly you barely give him more than a little zap.

He rocks forward in his seat as far as he can, whimpering and hissing miserably through his teeth.

“You must want some sort of relief by now,” you muse, tapping your finger on your knee. “Unfortunately for you, I’m a very patient person.”

He chuckles, a dimple popping up on his cheek when he grins at you. “What kind of relief are we talking?”

You hum, your eyes searching his face for some kind of trick. “Nothing for nothing, sweetheart. You tell me what your name is, and I’ll help you take care of that raging hard on.”

“You’re gonna help me?”

“Or I’ll just untie you so that you can take care of it yourself.”

He smirks, gazing at you tiredly with half-lidded eyes. “You untie me and that’ll be the last thing you ever fucking do. Ohhhh, I want to tear you to pieces.”

Amazing how menacing he can look even with those sweet curls and eyes half shut, the dimples on his cheeks seeming deeper in the shadows. Something about the tilt of his head, the tint of blood on his teeth as he smiles at you, makes you think that he’s far from joking. Still, you refuse to balk any more than he is.

“I’m so threatened.” You flick the button on the wand again, letting the electricity crackle in the silence for a second. “Okay. So I don’t untie you. There are other ways to get you off. I’m sure you’ll come if I just breathe lightly on that thing. I don’t even have to touch you.”

Vigilante whines, hanging his head back with his nose scrunched in indignation. “Fuck you for being so hot. Fuck this. ‘S not fair. God, I’d love to have you between my legs-”

“Then tell me,” you press, uncrossing your legs to lean forward. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“M-my name?” He heaves a shaky breath, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows drily. “My name… my name is…”

You blink. He couldn’t possibly be about to break.

“Deez nuts.”

Your hand swings forward, thumb clamping down on the button, amping the power up to ten. Vigilante shrieks up toward the ceiling, a broken sound dying in his throat and fading into a racking sob that shakes his entire body. His hips fully leave the seat, his writhing threatening to topple the chair he’s tied to.

When you pull back, you turn the wand off and toss it to the floor beside the water bottle with a clatter.

You watch him for a long moment. He twitches, his face still clenched tight, muscles still tense as he takes deep, labored breaths. His pale skin is flushed, rosy patches coloring his neck and shoulders. Slowly, so slowly, he sinks back into the seat until his legs release that built up tension, and his breaths turn natural, a rasping groan punctuating each one.

A sharp blast of laughter lurches from your throat, startling him and making him jump to look at you.

“‘Deez nuts?’ Really?”

A tired smile worms its way across his face, and he echoes your laugh softly. “Couldn’t help it. I’ve always wanted to say that.”

You each dissolve into your respective fits of laughter, yours much more energetic and loud compared to his at this point. You rub your eyes, check the time. You’ve been going for hours.

“How are you doing?”

He finally drops his shoulders, fully slumping back into the seat with his head tilted back on his shoulders. He’s obviously exhausted, but a soft smile graces his face as he cracks his eyes open at you.

“‘M good. How’re you?”

“Just fine, baby,” you coo at him. “Can I kiss you?”

He nods. He lifts his head as you stand, shuffling forward to carefully slide your hand up his thigh, clammy with sweat and cold from the chill in the empty warehouse.

You bend down and kiss your boyfriend tenderly on the lips, your thumbs stroking over his damp cheeks. His lips taste of salt and blood, bitten raw and rough. He groans softly, stretching up to try to deepen the kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth as quickly as he can manage it.

“Was I good?” Adrian says in a rushed exhale when you pull back. His green eyes are wide and stare up at you hopefully.

“Fucking amazing, baby. I don’t think anything can break you.” You stroke your knuckles down the side of his cheek, your heart swelling when he leans into that touch. “You were so good for me. God, I love you.”

“Mm… love you.”

For someone so easy to read, he’s almost anomalous in the way he behaves. Dating him, you’d been so accustomed to his usual state of bubbliness that when you finally saw him fight for the first time, you’d been utterly astounded. It was almost as if you couldn’t quite comprehend the fact that Adrian could be Vigilante, and vice versa.

You’ve gotten to a point where it isn’t so jarring. But that doesn’t mean he won’t throw a curveball at you every now and then.

“Okay so one time Peacemaker and I got captured by aliens and they tied me to a chair and electrocuted my balls and I was really mad at Peacemaker because he didn’t give up any information to stop them even though he totally could have but what I didn’t tell anyone was that I actually kind of liked it and anyways I was thinking can you maybe tie me down and torture me for information in a sexy way and then kiss me after?”

The request had taken you fully by surprise, but once you sat with it for a second, it wasn’t the strangest thing Adrian had ever said to you. And, you realized, there was something appealing about the idea to you, too.

“Yeah, I can do that. But we’re going to have a safe word and action, and if I feel like you’re in over your head then I’m going to stop everything. Okay?”

“Okay. Can our safe word be ‘Tinky-Winky?’”

“...That can be the safe word, yes.”

“Sweet. There’s nothing less sexy than a Teletubby.”

It had taken a week of thorough planning to work out everything, and to ensure that Adrian was keeping it all in mind. He put a lot of emphasis on the information-giving aspect of it, to the point where you were certain this was a test of his will. You’d checked in with him again as you pulled the Sebring up outside the abandoned warehouse on the edge of town, bracketed by woods on either side.

“You know that you have nothing to prove to me, right, baby?”

“I know. This is gonna be fun.”

He was practically vibrating with excitement. You smiled as you pulled rope out of the trunk. “I’m going to ask you for your name. Don’t tell me it, okay?”

“But you already know my name.”

“No, I know that. But when we go in there, you’re Vigilante. And I’m the enemy. Got it?”

“Okay.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Tinky-Winky. Oh! And if I can’t talk I slap my hand on the leg of the chair three times.”

“Good boy.” You reached up and slipped his glasses from his face. He blinked at you slowly as you slid them into your pocket. “I’ll ask you ‘How are you doing?’ That means everything is over, we’re done. Got it?”

“Got it. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Now take off your clothes.”

Now, you pull his glasses out of your pocket and put them back on him. He looks up at you again, not having to stare quite so hard to see you clearly. “You’re the sexiest person on earth. Like seriously, how did I get so lucky with you, huh?”

“Because you’re the only guy I know who’ll get his ass beat and then bring me home a plushie from the claw machine at work the same night.” You smile, your fingers drifting through his damp hair. “I’m gonna untie you now, okay?”

“NO- I mean… no. Please.” Adrian inhales sharply as you search his face for an explanation. “I-I’m really fucking hard right now and I don’t… I’m not sure if I- I mean-”

“You want me to help you with it?”

He nods rapidly, his face screwed up in earnest. “But if you untie me I might be really rough with you and I don’t want to do that on accident-”

“It’s okay, Adrian,” you shush him, slowly dropping to your knees in front of his spread legs. “I won’t untie you, but you still tell me if you want me to stop.”

“Okay. F-fuck, okay. Do I still have to say the safe word?”

“You can, if you want. I’ll stop either way.” You reach forward, ghosting one feather-light fingertip up the length of his cock. He hisses through his teeth, hips jolting even at that bare amount of contact. “Are you sure you want this now, baby? I know it hurts, I wasn’t easy on you.”

“No, I’m… I mean, it does. But I… I like it.” You know that Adrian is sometimes a little shy when it comes to asking for what he wants. It’s the only time you ever see him truly nervous to talk to you, but this is more sheepish than you’ve ever seen him, as you gaze up at him from between his legs. His voice is barely above a whisper when he repeats, “I like it.”

“Okay. Sweet boy, I’m going to take care of you. Just relax.”

Overly cautious, you lean forward to let the warmth of your lips brush along the side of his cock. It isn’t so much that you’re set on teasing him anymore, it’s that you refuse to cause him any more pain than he likely already has. Going at him hard and fast immediately would only irritate him further, and you want him to enjoy this.

The wet swath of your tongue soothes over his sensitive skin, and he strains against the ties that bind him to the chair, a groan bubbling up out of his chest.

“Haaah shit, holy shit.”

“Relax.” You kiss his tip, tongue darting out to flick gently at his slit.

“Ah, fuck- I’m trying.” Contrary to his words, he squirms, hips bucking toward your face, making you pull back with the movement. “Shit, you’re so good- so good for me. God, I fucking love you so much.”

You hum a quiet, soothing response as you let your lips glide smoothly along his curved underside, the very tip of your tongue tracing the long vein there and swirling carefully around his swollen head. His open mouthed gasps and groans fill your ears, sounding even more sinful than his howls of pain had been. Your blood boiling, you elect to make each touch of your lips and tongue to his skin an attempt to kiss that pain away.

He moans obscenely loud when your lips finally wrap around him, giving him the lightest little suck while petting the length of him with your fingers. He’s sweating again, nearly pouring buckets, but you imagine that this time it isn’t necessarily from a point of pain.

You remain there, sucking rhythmically and letting your fingers do the rest of the work, easing your saliva along his shaft until he’s quivering, strong legs twitching on either side of your head and breath coming out in short bursts. Then you slide your mouth down, matching the moan that he makes above you, and this time you don’t pull back when his hips buck forward just slightly.

“God, I’m gonna come. You’re gonna- fuck- don’t stop, please-”

You hum, letting your hands caress his thighs and thumbs graze along his hips, stroking softly before your hands tighten and hold him down against the chair. Not that you think you could overpower him if he really wanted to struggle out of your grasp- but, you know, he has a habit of jerking around when he orgasms.

You ease up as you continue the steady working of your mouth and tongue on him, giving it to him softly, each draw back accompanied by a lewd slick noise to combat his harsh groaning. All at once he jolts, head flinging back with an alarmingly high pitched noise in his throat and limbs straining as he comes, a rush of warmth and salt on your tongue. Hard pulses absolutely ravage his body until he can do nothing but slump back in his seat and take his air in weak, wheezing breaths.

You pull back with one last kitten lick to his tip, making his hips jump from oversensitivity. “Better?”

“Huuuuuuhh… uh huh.”

You smirk to yourself as you pull a knife out of your pocket and start cutting the restraints on his ankles. “You have such a way with words. You write poetry?”

His words are thick in his throat. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day-”

“Save your breath, Shakespeare.”

Adrian swallows, goes to say something and ends up coughing instead. You cut his wrists free, and reach for the bottle of water behind you, straightening up on your knees to push it into his hands. “Drink. I’ve got you now, you��re safe.”

“I know I’m safe.” His hands shake as he lifts the bottle to his lips, and he spends a long moment just chugging it until he manages to clear the dryness from his throat. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor beside you as he adds quietly, “You make me feel safe.”

“I always want you to feel safe with me.” You shift forward, settling between his knees as your arms wrap around his middle. He tucks his head against your shoulder, slumping forward to hold you, his breathing slowly returning to normal the longer you keep him there against you. Drenched in sweat and cold to the touch, but speaking of peace and comfort with his attempts to pull you ever closer to him.

“You’re really cold, sweetheart,” you tell him after his body completely relaxes into yours. “You want me to help you put some clothes on?”

“If I put pants on it’ll hurt.”

“Okay. There’s a blanket in the back of the Sebring, you can just wrap up until we get back home.”

He nods, letting you support his weight as he stands. Wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him steady, you hold the water and electric wand in your other hand as you slowly make your way back toward the entrance of the warehouse. He hisses as he walks, sort of bending forward and hobbling like an old man.

“Dammit- Peacemaker’s gonna know something’s off. He always knows about shit like this. You think he can read minds?”

“I think he can read your mind,” you say with a smirk. “Pretty much everyone can, babe.”

“That’s bullshit. How can everyone read my mind? I don’t have a radio brain.” He pauses. “Do I have a radio brain?”

“No, you don’t. You’re just really easy to read, there’s no shame in that.” After a short moment of contemplation on your end, you finally add, “There is something, though. You said you wanted to tear me apart. I couldn’t figure out if you were serious or not.”

“I uh… hm.” He blushes, looking down at his feet.

“Because, if that’s an offer for you to return the favor… I’d love for you to make good on that threat sometime.”

Adrian turns his head back towards you with a lopsided grin. “Really? You… yeah? Okay. What’s your safe word?”

“Tinky-Winky, of course.”

Adrian’s laughter echoes throughout the empty warehouse, bouncing off the walls and surging up on your heels.

#i love a cbt fic #this is so good ahhhh #thank you oomfie for suggesting this #talia's recs 🪩

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yearsbecomingcool · 7 days ago

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go read abt my fucked up little guys

decided by my control | dmitri kravinoff

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | high school wrestler!dmitri x childhood friend/enemy!reader

synopsis | you help dmitri with wrestling practice and it ends just like it always does.

warnings | 18+, nsfw, wrestler!dima, childhood friend/enemy!reader, dubious consent, verbal humiliation, physical humiliation, wrestling, daddy/mommy issues, titty sucking, wedgies, dry humping, and mean!dmitri.

word count | 2.5k

a/n | this is probably going to be a series, not exactly a multichapter fic but i love this dynamic a lot and want to write more with this pair!! sorry again about the lack of fics, my job is really beating my ass rn.

taglist | @zoovweemomma @marinaluciarossi @Loveeatsleep @mysunshinemyangel @simonsrealwife @janis01127 @sodapop11 @medievalharlot @samslvrgirl @deadpoetsharbor @alexa0813 @kawaii1kitten @spookyscarydemonbabe you can join my taglist here!! if you filled out my old taglist form please fill out the new one, thank you!!

“C’mon, my roommate’s gone for the rest of the weekend and I need my practice dummy now,” Dmitri demands, clutching your upper arm as he practically drags you down the hall. This was your routine at this point, ever since he’d started wrestling you had become his “practice dummy” as he liked to call you.

You groan, still trying to drag yourself out of his grasp. Unfortunately for you all of his wrestling practice had made him bulk up a bit and his grip was iron strength. “Can’t this wait till tomorrow? I have homework!”

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t care, you’re helping me with this now.” He holds you in place as he unlocks the door and shoves you inside, causing you to stumble a bit. You throw your bag onto his bed and watch as he takes his time removing his bag. “Go on, get into position.” He doesn’t even look at you when he speaks to you. You’re not sure if it’s his way of trying to fuck with you but by now you know to obey when he gives you an order.

You reluctantly get into the position he’d taught you a few weeks ago, you always felt stupid when you’d do it. You weren’t sure why he kept choosing to practice with you, you hadn’t absorbed a single thing he’d taught you, you were an easy target, that’s probably why he kept losing all his matches. “So are we gonna do this or-“

Before you can finish your sentence he’s diving for your legs, tackling you to the ground. You let out a grunt as you feel the wind get knocked out of you. You’re quick to try and scramble back to your feet but it seems he’s been paying attention in his actual practices. He’s able to keep you down with ease, crawling on top of you and caging your limbs in with his own. His legs squeeze tight around yours and he’s quick to grab your wrists and pin them above your head with one hand.

You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t arousing that he could so easily have you restrained like this. He’d done it often, using you for practice as weeks and each time it got you going like you could’ve never imagined. You’d stumble back to your dorm room and slink off into the shower to use the shower head the way god definitely hadn’t intended. You’d never admit to anyone that you had a thing for the spoiled Kravinoff kid, as far as everyone else knew you hated his guts. He was a complete menace to you daily, always picking at your outfits and sometimes going as far as humiliating you in the halls. He’d pulled your skirt up more times than you could count and always had a snarky thing to say about whatever underwear you’d worn that day.

Dmitri has picked on you for years, going as far back as your childhood together. You were forced to be friends, your families being frequent collaborators in their less than legal businesses. He’d always teased you, pulled at your hair, found something to make fun of you for. You were convinced it had been his life's mission to make yours hell. You thought you’d gotten away at age 12, moving to America and starting at a new boarding school far far away from the Kravinoff family. But it just was just your luck that only a few years later Dmitri would end up being sent there as well as Sergei. He’d immediately set his sights back on you, eager to pick up where you’d left off.

“Okay! You won, get off!” You groan, using your hips to try and lift yourself up off the ground and buck him off of you. All that had managed to do was grind your ass against his crotch. He slammed his hips down hard against you, squeezing his legs tighter against yours as he held you down.

“Nope. I’m pretty comfortable here actually,” he hums. You could already tell where this was going. He reaches down with his free hand, slipping it into the back of your jeans. You were fucked. His fingers curled around the cotton fabric. You’d worn a pair of cotton briefs that had a thick waistband, they were practically a handle for him to grab onto. His movements are slow but precise. He wants to inflict as much pain as he can, you know by now just how hard it gets him.

He pulls up on your waistband slowly, you bite your lip and curl your fingers into the carpet as you brace for the familiar burn of cotton pulled between your cheeks. You can’t help but squirm as you feel the sides of the leg holes cut into your delicate flesh, there’ll be marks later. You’ll look at them and touch yourself to the memory of how he debased you for his own amusement.

He stretches the fabric expertly, the once full back panties practically turning into a thong from how he wrenches them up. You grit your teeth as you feel your cheeks pulled apart, the rough fabric pressed tight against your puckered hole. “Christ, you never learn. Still wearing these dorky undies, I told you to buy something cuter last time, didn’t I?” He taunts.

You whine, hiding your embarrassed face on the carpet. “Yes, you did. But I-”

He pulls up even harder now, the waistband at your mid back and the leg holes peeking out of your jeans. It was humiliating and incredibly painful with how tight the fabric was against your most sensitive areas. “No, no buts. I gave you an order and you disobeyed me. If you know what’s good for you then you’ll shut your mouth and take it.” He grinds his hips against your ass as he grabs the leg holes of your panties, using them like handles to wrench the fabric up even higher now. “I should start calling you a nerd, that’s basically what you are for wearing these things. This is why you’re still a virgin, you really think someone wants to fuck a nerd who spends her time getting wedgied like a loser? God, maybe I need to move onto swirlies next, really get it through your head what a loser you are for wearing these.”

Your eyes go wide and you lift your head up just enough to look back at him, “N-No! Don’t, I’ll buy new underwear I swear!” You could already imagine the humiliation it would bring you if he’d go through with it.

He’s strong enough to overpower you now, it would be so easy for him to do. You wonder if he’d drag you by your underwear or maybe by your hair…maybe both, a hand in your hair and another wrapped around your waistband. He’d drag you into the bathroom, the carpet burning at your knees and screeching as your skin slid across the tile. He’d hold your face over the toilet, threatening to shove your head inside the porcelain bowl. “C’mon, go for a swim.” He’d dunk your head into the bowl, holding your head in place as he lets go of your overly stretched underwear to flush. The thought of the cold disgusting water swirling all around you, invading your nose and seeping into your skin and hair was enough to make you gag.

“You better, you know I’m not bluffing.” He’s not, he always would follow through when it came to you. He tugs at your panties until they’re pulled right up to your neck. Every little movement you make just intensifies the pain, it feels like someone’s pulled a string up your ass and it’s almost unbearable. He finally lets go of the fabric, it snaps back down against your skin but stays wedged in place. Thanks to how tight your jeans fit it’ll be impossible to dig the fabric out from between your cheeks without fully removing your jeans.

Just when you think he’s about to climb off of you he flips you over onto your back, using his legs to hold yours apart. He presses his crotch against yours, he’s semi-hard now. He lets go of your hands but you keep them in place obediently. He grinds himself against you, smirking down at your helpless figure. “You really are like a practice dummy, you barely even fight back. This is the most anyone has ever touched you, isn’t it? Better be grateful a guy like me would even look in your direction.” Dmitri moves to unbutton and unzip your jeans, tugging them down just a little to see your front waistband.

He reaches forward, gripping the front waistband tight as he straddles you once again. “Can’t leave her out, can I? That would just be mean…” He gives it a quick tug, smiling down at how your face contorted in pain. The fabric pulls taut against your cunt, threatening to part your lips and invade your most sensitive area. The pressure it’s putting on your clit is a confusing mix of pain and pleasure. “This is probably the closest anyone has ever gotten to playing with you down here, hm? I bet it’s still gonna get you wet, you’ll probably take whatever you can get at this point.”

He pulls slowly, the drawn out pain causing you to lift your hips to try and escape it. It’s no use, he’s got you pinned and he has no plans of letting you go until he’s done with you. He leans down as he pulls, starting to plant kisses along your jawline. He pulls even harder now, nipping at your jaw as he does. He continues to grind against you while he plays with your cunt. “You’re always so good for me. I'm starting to think you actually like when I treat you like this,” he chuckles.

You bite your lip, rolling your eyes at his cockiness. “Shut up, Dima. I do not like th-”

He cuts you off by pulling even harder, the fabric finally forcing itself between your lips, now painfully lodged against your slit. It’s so sudden that your body reacts before your brain, your eyes squeezing shut and a moan falling from your lips. Your toes curl and your hips buck up.

“What was that then? The last time a girl did that it’s because my fingers were buried inside her,” he smirks, “You didn’t even earn my fingers. You just get these stupid. dorky. panties.” He punctuates each word with a tug, the fabric moving against your clit

You groan in pain as he moves onto your neck. He sucks and bites at your skin, doing his best to mark you up, occasionally pulling away to blow at where he’s nipped. You can feel yourself soaking the fabric that’s pressed so tight against your holes and your body feels like it’s on fire from embarrassment. “Fuck you, Dmitri!” You whimper, you sound so pathetic that you can’t help but cringe at yourself.

He moves his thumb to toy with your clit lazily as he humps you. He keeps your panties pulled taut as he toys with you. “In your dreams, you don’t deserve my dick,” he mumbles, against your neck. He pulls away for a minute to lift your shirt, pulling down your bra to expose your breasts. He dives back down to kiss the newly exposed flesh. He doesn’t mean what he says, he’s spent countless nights in the dorm shower thinking of how you’d feel, how you’d sound when he finally gave you what you both wanted.

“You don’t deserve my pussy or my tits, or any of me,” you shoot back in annoyance. You know he can be harsh, especially on bad days. You’d overheard him on the phone with his father when you passed him in the hallway that morning. You could faintly hear Nikolai screaming at Dmitri over the phone, your chest aching as you saw his face scrunch up and his shoulders hunch. You knew he didn’t deserve your pity but there was part of you that still cared for him. Maybe you were just as fucked up as he was. You’d feel guilty every time you’d go back to your room after your little wrestling sessions, you’d feel guilty as you shoved your hand between your thighs and thought of how he’d humped you and pinned you down and insulted you.

He glares at you, nipping at the sensitive flesh around your nipple, increasing the pressure against your sensitive clit. “You know who my father is, I deserve whatever I want,” he snaps.

You roll your eyes, whining softly as he speeds up his motions against your clit. “Entitled as ever, Dmitri.”

“Pathetic as ever, loser,” he fires back before licking your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his face harder against your breast. He wraps his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking at it as he grinds down against you. You throw your head back, eyes squeezing shut as you moan in pleasure.

You regain enough composure to speak, “I like you better like this, you’re a good boy when you’re quiet.” You relish in your temporary control over him. It’s short lived as he bites down softly on your nipple, causing you to yelp. You can practically feel him smirking against you. “Oh fuck you! I hope you lose your next match!”

You’re both worn out and sensitive, close to your releases. He pulls away from your nipple, taking a second to blow on the sensitive skin. “If I do it’s your fault, lousy fucking pratice dummy,” he mumbles against your breast. He buries his face in your breasts as he speeds up his motions.

You shamelessly let your whines and moans fall from your lips, “Maybe if you didn’t dry hump me every time you’d get better at this shit…and at least I show up, I cheer you on even though you get your ass handed to you every goddamn match.”

He nips at your breast again, practically telling you to shut up. “I’m gonna win this time and when I do I’m gonna fuck you under those bleachers…gonna show you how strong I am, how good I am…tell me I’m good…tell me I’m good…” His speech is devolving quickly, he’s close and so are you. You can feel your cunt clenching around the fabric.

You whimper before speaking, “You’re so good Dima, you’re…you’re gonna win and show everyone just how good you are…” your eyes squeeze shut as you bite your lip softly. “Such a good boy, so strong…makes me feel so good always…even when you’re mean I can’t help but-” You’re cut off by your orgasm ripping through you, the pinch of Dmitri’s fingers around your clit being the final push you needed.

His is quick to follow, as it rips through him he can’t help but wrap his lips around your breast again, sucking the sensitive bud as he sloppily ruts himself against you. He continues until his body finally calms, but he doesn’t pull away from your breast entirely. He lays his head against it like a pillow, drooling against your warm skin. “I-I’m gonna win tomorrow, I swear…”

Your hand comes up, carding your fingers through his hair soothingly. “I know you will Dima, I’ll be there to see it…promise.”

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