Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today has been a great day.

Each moment further into your morning grew greater and greater. The splendid start of waking up extremely late; forcing you to skip breakfast to make it to work on time. The carefree continuation of starving throughout your entire shift. The amazing aftermath of finally stumbling somewhere to finally eat; only to being cutely crushed by the long wait of the line.

Today has been great… greatly shitty.

At least it couldn’t get any worse.

It got worse. It always gets worse. Stop saying it couldn’t get any worse, it will always get worse.

Thankfully! Your long-awaited food was ready!
You eagerly snatched it from the cashier and took a proud meander down the street to find someplace secluded to eat. As you sauntered down the street, you couldn’t help but to snatch a fry or two… or three.

You defaulted to eating while walking as you continued to snatch fries. You practically had your whole face shoved into the bag as you ate. It was obscuring your vision and you looked like an utter fool but it didn’t matter much as everyone was crossing to another sidewalk.
For some reason…

Wait… where was everyone going?

Before you could even look up to see what was going on, someone aggressively bumped into your shoulder. The sheer force of the two-person collision ultimately caused you to stumble and fall onto your food.

No more food! Starve!

You simply kneeled over your crushed food and stared at the wasted twenty dollars that had been transformed into a bag of inedible mush.

Something inside you seemed to snap as a single tear comically streamed down your face and fell onto the torn takeout. You immediately shot back up and swiftly turned towards the direction of the culprit. Before you could even think about the consequences of your actions… you yelled at a random stranger.

“Hey! Jackass! Watch where you’re going next time! You owe me lunch!”

It felt kinda good to let out some pent-up anger but the guilt of releasing it onto some random schmuck ( who probably didn’t even see you ) hit you like a truck. The guilt sharply transformed into utter fear as the realization of who that random schmuck was finally came into fruition.

The stranger harshly turned around at the sound of your remark and began striding towards you. He was absolutely hench, towering in height, and adorned a familiar luchador mask. He inevitably approached where you stood and glared down at your puny stage. Oh jeez.

That’s fucking Masked Muscle!

“You got something to say? Huh!? How about you watch where you’re going next time! Don’t try it with me punk ass!” He spat.

Eh. You still had some more pent up anger to let out and an argument is a great way to get yourself into more trouble. Let’s just hope you don’t get beaten to a bloody pulp by this giant man.

“Watch. Your. Fucking. Step. The whole sidewalk doesn’t belong to you buddy! I’ve got no food now because of you!” You angrily rebutted.

Your pulse began to race faster than a horse at the shot of a gun. Southern similes aside, you were freaking the fuck out. What part of your brain thought that picking a fight with a literal boxer was a good idea? This man was double your size and you were yapping back at him like a Chihuahua to a German Shepard.

“Not my problem! Maybe pay some more fucking attention next time! Don’t blame your issues on me! Bitch!” He snapped back.

You flinched at his raised volume and began to shake like a leaf. This was such a bad idea. Was getting your ass beat really worth some cheap-ass meal? No, but you were hungrily psychotic enough to continue. Some cracked part of your brain actually started to love this. Unchecked trauma or whatever.

“It became your problem when you shoved me over! I’m your problem now! Deal with me!”
You freakishly dared.

Masked Muscle had a twitch in his eye as he paused for a moment to glare at your sheer audacity. His pause slowly drove a spike of fear into your heart. You held your breath in scared anticipation as you studied the obscured expression on the boxer's masked face.
He was about to start a fight with you.
Time to start saying silent prayers.

Suddenly, he tilted his head back and you instinctively flinched… as he spat the fattest loogie right at your face.

You paused to comically blink and process the fact that… you weren’t dead?

You slowly bought a finger towards the side of your face to touch the slick saliva. It stuck to your finger and made a gross trail as you gingerly bought it away. Eugh. That’s fucking spit.

You just got spit on…
Admittedly? It’s better than getting beat to a bloody pulp.

You win some, you lose some.

Masked Muscle’s expression shifted from pissed-off into utterly confused as he stared at your reaction. He continued to stay silent as you slowly wiped the spit from your face.

From your perspective, some weird thoughts were racing about in your head. The oddest one being that… getting spit on was hot. That initial loogie huck unintentionally unraveled some freaky feelings. Embarrassingly enough, you wanted to pry further into your spit-kink theory. So you continued testing.

“Do that again.” You dared.

Masked Muscle’s eyes darted around the empty sidewalk before focusing back on you.
Were you being serious?

He waited for you to back down or something but was stunned to find that you were dead serious. Your sheer boldness somewhat impressed him while simultaneously pissing him off.

Alright. He’d play along.

He inhaled sharply to collect enough snot for his gross-ass loogie and roughly spat right between your eyes.

That did it.

A sharp spike of arousal peaked as he practically degraded you. The sudden sexual feeling combined with sheer food-deprived exhaustion caused you to practically faint. He anxiously watched as your knees dramatically buckled and caused you to keel over. He quickly kneeled down to ensure that you were alright but was bewildered by this insane scenario.

“Hey! A-Are you alright?! You’re fucking crazy man!” He tensely asked.

You strained to find any semblance of consciousness as you mumbled half-sentences about being alright. You struggled to stand back up but failed miserably as you stumbled to the ground again.

Once again. You looked like a total jackass.

Masked Muscle sighed as he simply watched your pathetic ass fumble about until inevitably giving up to collapse. Eventually, his sympathy got the better of him and he decided to end this whole atrocity. It was just getting sad at this point.

“Let’s patch this up over some food…It’s on me.”
He pitifully groaned.

You muttered an indistinct sound of victory as Masked Muscle threw your arm over his shoulder to raise you up. He made you hold onto his arm so you wouldn’t fall over again. The two of you walked towards a nearby dine-in place. It looked like you were a drunkard being walked home by a kindly bystander. When really, it was some weirdly horny weirdo who hadn’t eaten all day being dragged around by a guilty boxer.

On the bright side, both of you looked like idiots!

Finally, you were dragged into some air-conditioned restaurant and placed into a booth with Masked Muscle. He strangely kept his mask on as he ordered something for you two to share. God this felt like a date or something.

He kept studying you as you inevitably came back into fruition. You rested your head on the table and glanced up to meet his strong gaze. His expression was so difficult to differentiate with that mask on but you could glean that he was annoyed? Embarrassed? It was hard to tell.

“Hey. Mm- thanks for taking me out. I’m- I- whew- I’m sorry I was a dick.”
You mumbled out some semblance of an apology.

He continued his stare but his expression seemed to soften at your apology. He let out a small chuckle at your fumbling of words. You were still pretty out of it and it was funny to him.

“Heh- sorry uhm. I’m sorry for knocking you over… and for spitting on you.”
He embarrassingly apologized.

“You don’t- the spitting- don’t apologize for it! That was pretty fun! I-I’ve never gotten fucking spat on before. I’m just glad I wasn’t totally pummeled. Like lookit us! We made up- we’re making up. Right?”
You nonsensically rambled.

“God, you’re funny. Yeah. Yeah we’re cool.”
He hummed his reply.

You both kept staring at each other and making jokes until a server came over with your food. Masked Muscle evenly split the shared food and slowly slid over your portioned plate.

Cautiously, you sniffed at the food in an attempt to make your hunger-related nausea secede. It didn’t take long before you were able to demolish your plate of food. You hungrily wolfed down the meal like a competitive eater. You didn’t even bother to pay attention to anything else until your plate was practically licked clean.

Masked Muscle let out a shocked laugh after witnessing your horrific form of eating.

“Damn bitch! You can really put it away!”
He stifled a laugh.

Thankfully, you were coming to your senses as your food-deprived state of insanity quickly faded. You reverted back to the regular state of being a normal human being. You embarrassingly blushed and glanced away to politely wipe your face with a nearby napkin.

“I was starving! Leave me be…”
You whined.

“What else does that mouth do? Eh?”
He sarcastically jokes.

Another sudden spike of aforementioned arousal arose at his suggestive joke. Not like you’ve been turned on ever since he first spat on you but whatever. This ‘date’ wasn’t helping either.
You urgently wanted this man.

“Hah! You already know I can argue but I can do… other things. If you uh- know what I mean.”
You threw out your pathetic attempt at flirting.

It was a shock that you didn’t garnish your basic flirting with a cheesy wink. Surprisingly, it seemed to yank a positive reaction.

“Why don’t you show me some of those other things sometime?”
He flirted back with a subtle wink.

He wrote down his number onto a napkin and handed it to you. He swiftly rose up from the booth and made that little ‘call me’ sign with his hand before leaving the place.

Holy shit.

Did you really just get some hotshot boxer’s number simply by being a complete dick?

You did. You did!

Today was shaping up to be a pretty great day!

…Until you realized that he left without paying the bill and you were stuck paying for it.

Dick.

Chapter Text

It’s been a couple days since your little incident with Masked Muscle.

Surprisingly, his napkin number wasn’t some sort of stupid prank. It was real.

At first, you were extremely hesitant to call.
You would spend almost an hour simply staring at the napkin while constantly hyping yourself up to take initiative; only to pussy out during the dialing process.

Immediately, you were getting fed up with your own anxious antics. Even his phone number made your heart race. It was pathetic. You knew that he wasn’t gonna call first; he didn’t even have your number.
So, you had to take initiative.

Eventually, you’d buck up and call without a second thought… and he actually picked up.

“Hey. Who’s this?”
His familiar voice nonchalantly echoed through the phone.

You were totally tongue-tied at the sound of his voice. If you weren’t absolutely panicking before then you were now. You shakily brought the phone closer towards your heated up face as your heart ran in circles. You held the phone in your sweaty hands and thought about how to respond. Quickly, you took a deep breath and turned on the old ‘charm.’

“It’s the IRS. Who the fuck do you think it is?
It’s me! Don’t tell me you already forgot.”
You sarcastically answered.

“Hey! Hey! What’s up! I’ve been waiting for you to call. How’s it going huh? You doing good?”
He asked with a comforting ease.

“Yeah…I’m good.”
You longingly sighed in response.

The two of you continued to catch up; your conversation went on for hours. You both jumped from topic to topic with ease. Slowly learning stupid things about each other. It was shocking how sudden you two were getting along. The two of you talked like you were life-long friends. It was almost like both of you weren’t seconds away from killing each other the first time you met.

The conversation steadily slinked from casual to suggestive to straight-up sexual. It was basically phone sex at this point because Masked Muscle was going off with the dirty talk. You could hear soft shuffling as he mumbled sweet nothings into the phone. His harsh voice had you hesitantly touching yourself.

This phone sex was good and all but… you needed the real deal.

“Hey… uhm- why don’t you come over?”
You shakily suggested.

There was a slight moment of silence before sudden sounds of unintelligible noise shot through the phone.

You paused mid-masturbation to silently listen to the indecipherable noise before it inevitably stopped. Another awkward moment passed before Masked Muscle suddenly spoke up again.

“Lube up. I’m coming over.”
He simply stated before abruptly hanging up.

You comically blinked and stared in a confused shock before your phone rang again.
It was Masked Muscle…again.

“Hey. Uh- Where’s your place at..?”
He embarrassingly asked.

Fucking dumbass.

You monotonically divulged your address before hanging up to overthink for a moment.

How the hell were you gonna prepare for this sudden dick appointment?

You don’t get laid. Like ever.

Frantically, you spiffed up your bedroom before rushing into the bathroom to speed-run a shower. You didn’t bother taking some time to dry-off because you were too busy nervously pacing around while practically air-drying. You’d only pause your pacing to snatch some lube from your nightstand drawer and place it somewhere visible.
He did say to lube up.

Suddenly, and almost predictably, there was a knock at the door. The sharp knock caused you to physically jolt as you clutched at your towel and anxiously approached the door. Cautiously, you opened the door a crack and peered out to see the familiar but terrifying man towering over.

You opened the door at the sight of him and he looked you up and down as he shoved his way in.

“Glad to know you’re all ready. Finding this place was a nightmare by the way.”
He commented.

“Nice to see you too.”
You replied in annoyance.

You watched him as he inquisitively glanced around to study the intricacies of your place before turning back to you.

“So… you ready?”
He questioned.

He curiously looked down at your embarrassed stance. You were totally flushed in the face as you focused on the floor to mentally prepare for whatever was about to happen. Swiftly, you took his hand and dragged him towards your bedroom. He eagerly followed and impatiently sat on your bed as you instinctively locked the door. You turned back to him and took an awkward look.

Finally, it was time to get it on.

How’re you supposed to get it on..?

The next course of action was to obviously get naked but a singular self-conscious look at yourself had you feeling all insecure again. Looking back at Masked Muscle didn’t exactly help coax you outta your towel. He’s absolutely hench while you’re just… you.

Hesitantly, the towel slipped down to expose your slightly soaked body. Masked Muscle followed suit by slipping his silk pants down to allow his throbbing erection to suddenly spring out.

Holy shit… he wasn’t lying about needing lube.

His thick cock was curved and lined with visible veins. The sheer circumference had you scared for your sorry hole. It threateningly twitched in anticipation, awaiting your attention.

Masked Muscle shimmied his pants from his ankles and kicked them onto the floor. He leaned back and stretched out on your bed.

“C’mere and take a seat…”
He hummed.

You hurriedly climbed into bed with him and sat in between his thighs. Masked Muscle snatched the nearby lube and tossed it to you. You clicked the bottle open and poured a generous amount into your hand. Masked Muscle softly groaned as you gently glazed his thick dick with the slick fluid. You ceased pumping and promptly coated your hole with the remaining fluid.

Carefully, you positioned yourself over the tip of his dick and shakily looked down.

“Uh- is it gonna fit?”
You questioned in concern.

“C’mon, don’t be scared of some girth!
Give it a try! We can stop if it hurts.”
Masked Muscle reassured.

“Alright…”
You groaned.

You shakily slid down his slick dick and whimpered in response to each piercing inch.
A slurry of sharp but surprisingly pleasurable feelings mixed in your gut as you took in his entire length. You could feel his prodding tip poke at your cervix causing you to quiver and groan. Masked Muscle’s hands slipped onto your thighs held a strong grip as you carefully adjusted yourself.

“Mm- you alright?”
He reassuringly asked while trying his best to quiet his moaning.

“Ah! God! Y-Yeah, I’m alright. It’s a tight fit. You’re gonna be the death of me! I swear.”
You jokingly remarked.

“Aw, don’t say that. You’re taking this like a champ! C’mon! Start riding me!”
He annoyingly urged.

“Give me a second!”
You snapped back.

Meticulously, you adjusted yourself until the sharp pains seemingly subsided. Eventually, you defaulted into a steady grind with your hips, each movement shot sparks through your core. The feeling slowly stagnated into a steadily rising pleasure as you got into the swing of things. You peered down at Masked Muscle to indulge in his expressions of ecstasy but his face was still obscured with his mask.

Huh. That’s weird. Why’s his mask still on during sex?

You lurched forward mid-ride to slip a hand underneath his silk mask but you were met with the startling grasp of his hand on your wrist. He kept his grip on your wrist as he gently bought it away from his face.

“Ah-ah-ah… don’t touch.”
He gravely warned.

“Why not!? …You got a fetish or something?”
You huffed.

“No! Okay… sorta.”
He embarrassingly mumbled.

“Why am I not surprised? Can you at least lift it up a little? Give me a little striptease?”
You simply requested.

He rolled his eyes and lifted his mask over his nose to expose the underwhelming sight of his stubbly chin paired with the reveal of his angular nose.

“Mmm- Yeah! You really know how to get me going baby!”
You sarcastically imitated, sounding almost akin to a cheesy porn actor.

“Shut up! You’re probably more into this than I am!”
He angrily pointed out.

“Probably!”
You teasingly replied.

Masked Muscle decided to shut you up with a harsh kiss and an abrupt upwards thrust. The sudden shove of cock against your cervix drew out many unintentional moans. Masked Muscle snaked his hands around your hips and tightly gripped as he intensely thrusted into you. He was practically slamming you into his dick.

Honestly? Were you even riding anymore? What’s the point of being on top at this point? It's not like you’re in a comfortable enough position to be getting railed. Your knees were seconds away from giving out and the constant kneeling had your knees aching with piercing pains.

“Ah! Oh Fuck! Mmm- S-Stop! Wait! Please!”
You managed to plead through your unrelenting moans.

Masked Muscle hesitantly halted his sporadic hip movements in response. He released his grip on your hips as you rose up from his dick. In a state of exhaustion, you turned over and splayed yourself out onto the bed.

“G-Gah… I c-can’t keep riding. My knees are in atrophy at this point. It-It’s your turn to top.”
You messily mumbled.

“Heh! Don’t mind if I do!”
He excitedly hummed.

Masked Muscle sat up and patiently knelt as you inched yourself towards the middle of the bed. He meticulously placed himself between your thighs before suddenly lurching over to pin you down. He leaned down to hungrily lick at your neck whilst his cock threateningly hovered above your entrance. It twitched and flicked droplets of warm precum onto your stomach causing you to shudder.

Swiftly, he guided his dick back into place and haphazardly shoved his full length into you, causing you to writhe in instantaneous pleasure. His thrusts gradually returned but grew deeper and more rapid with each increasing dive. He continued licking and biting at your neck while probably leaving a couple of hickeys in the process. These sweet sensations made you uncontrollably moan with each precise pound. Your mouth was agape with your tongue stuck out like you were being fucked silly.

Masked Muscle paused his hungry neck lapping to lovingly glare down at you. He adored seeing you in such a passionate state as he savagely slammed into you. Oddly, your open mouth seemed to spark a sinister idea in his head. He bought his hand towards your mouth and held your tongue down with his thumb. You looked down at his thumb as his hand caressed your jaw.

Without warning, he spit into your mouth and your eyes grew wide as you felt the sensation of his warm saliva slide down your throat. It sent you completely over the edge to finally indulge in this pre-established fetish.

You’re both sick little freaks.

He unhandled your jaw and used his saliva coated fingers to pinch and twist at your nipple. He growled out some curses under his breath as he aggressively thrusted deep into you. Again he spat, this time against your cheek as he pounded out his last couple of thrusts. You jolted and jerked as he prodded and poked at your cervix.

Finally, he made one last thrust deep into you.
A warm sensation filled your hole and slowly dripped out from you to pool onto the bed. You could feel his dick being dragged out and propped against your thigh. His intense grip unlatched your nipple to steady himself overtop of you.

The two of you heavily heaved while sharing the same sorta loving look. It took your a while for your vision to refocus after this session of brain-melting sex. You came back into fruition once Masked Muscle collapsed beside you. His arm draped over your torso as he unintentionally fell asleep. You gently gripped his strong arm before passing out from utter exhaustion.

The two of you soundly slept through the rest of the night. The next morning, you’d both wake up to share two things: a shower and some breakfast.
Masked Muscle would consistently check up on you and shower you with aftercare. It was nice.

These interactions seemingly solidified the relationship between you two.

Strangers to lovers amirite?