this is like saying NASA has forever destroyed our ability to wonder what it's like on the moon. like we can still use our powers of imagination if we want to but the question's pretty much fucking settled.
summary: dick pushes you to your limits in the gym, and your animosity towards him slowly transforms into unexpected admiration (and unlocks months of concealed pining).
wc: 7.2k.
genre: smut.
warnings: top!dick, dom!dick, bottom!reader, bottom!reader, sub!reader, one sided rivalry (reader's end), enemies to lovers(?), brief fighting, reader and dick are working out, physical fighting (with boxing gloves), envious!reader, insecure!reader, hotheaded!reader, uncut!reader, public!sex, gym!sex, dirty talk, praising, guidance, handjob, fingering, kissing, spitting, lots of sweat, body worshipping, reader will be walking funny for the next week.
Your shoes squeaked after every thump from landing on your feet. One foot chased after the other in a pursuit, and your knees raised past your navel as the cable rope cut through the air with a turn before hitting the ground. You huffed after every snap of the rope, a burn scalding the muscles in your thighs and wrists with every rotation, tensing as if you’d been hit, as if your coarse throat would feel the remnants of the whip afterward.
“Five…Four…Three…”
Sweat dripped off your forehead, off the locks of your bouncing hair, in anticipation of a merited water break. The water bottle sat on the seated stationary bench, pooled by its own condensation. You could taste it with your eyes, a ravishing sight that pushed you harder. You sped up, raised your knees higher, and endured the pain for ten seconds more. Your gut was sucked in, engaging with your core, and your breathed out in methodical puffs, your chest rising along with it. Everything was burning, muscles tightening into flaming knots that would render you frail by tomorrow morning. If the floor was lava, your body was the volcano erupting it.
Holy bells rang once you finally counted down to zero, and you immediately came to a halt, the weight of your gratification breaking your movement with an echoing thud as you instantly marched forward to quench your thirst.
“Fuck.”
Your nostrils stung more than usual. Flared with every inhale as you were catching up to your breath, and more so when you cooled down with several sips of water. Breathing had never felt so good, an absolute fiend you turned out to be after every workout.
You’re getting weaker. Breathing harder. Quicker. You’re losing control on your breath. How are you going to keep up with the team? If you feel this fatigued after a warm up? You let them down last time. Got knocked out and Dick—
He was getting to your head. Again.
Dick.
The name rolled off your tongue bitterly. A foul taste of metal and battery acid lingered in your parched mouth before it was drowned out by another gulp of water. Another.
And another.
And another, as the aforementioned man across from you halted his ropes, stopping in his tracks.
He’d been doing this since you’d arrived. Mirroring you like a reflection, copying your every move as if you were an instructor. If you were doing strength training, he stopped his cardio to take the machine next to you. Pushed when you pushed, groaned—louder—when you did.
Needed to stretch your hips? He made some lame excuse about how his legs were too tight, and felt the need to join you on the floor, stretching himself beyond the limits of what you could achieve. It colored you impressed, but you would never say that out loud. Though, you did silently admire the view of his ass, and that especially, would be kept a secret between you and the floor.
Now, it was with jump-roping. The two ropes swung from either corners of the gym like the gears working silently in your head. There was a need to compete with you for some reason.
A satisfied smirk rolled a drop of sweat off his face, and seized his naked torso with glitter as he took a step under a light that lit his body like a podium, or—and you hated to admit it—like one of the sculptures you remembered fawning over in Art History. From his broad build, you could tell that Dick was sturdy, toned, and undoubtedly beautiful.
His fringe clung onto his forehead, but you could see the gratification he got from outlasting you, smiling while he squeezed a stream of water into his mouth. You noticed how much more capable he was with the calmness of his breath, and felt his adrenaline pumping through the room. In turn, it possessed you—his energy–maneuvering you to the center of the room where a foam mat was placed, and to which Dick expectedly trailed after you.
“Wanna have a go, partner?” Dick said while rolling his shoulders back before picking up a pair of boxing gloves, then another without your confirmation.
“Seriously—“ He tossed the other pair towards you, an accurate shot that landed into your arms. “Are you going to be doing this all day? Copying me?” You silently thanked him because you began kneading one glove like a stress ball, the rubber foam absolutely gratifying with every scrunch of your hand, as well as consoling as it kept you sane for a little longer.
“I don’t see the problem—“ You began approaching him with the gloves fitted snug over your fists. “Well, actually. I do see the problem. You’re not training hard enough.” Marching with heavy stomps, your nose flaring with every breath that he casually spat out.
“You give up as soon as you feel tired. I mean, no amount of water breaks are going to help you. You think we have the time to sip water when we’re rescuing a town? A city? The world?”
His voice, soft and smooth yet it was grating to your ears. The constant talking. Rambling. It gave you a headache. It made you see red. Hearing him berate you. Mock you.
“You’re breathing too hard too, which is taking up all of your energy. And your emotions? You need to control them better. Not only does it affect your combat, but your relationship with your team. You shut yourself off when you don’t do well on a mission.”
“What are you, my therapist now?”
“Listen, it does no one any good if you’re—“
And it stopped with a strong swing towards his left cheek. His head snapped to the side when the rubber foam smacked him like a whip.
If red hadn’t blurred your vision, you would’ve noticed the tiniest smile he mustered up from the corner of his lips. A crooked, slanted one that was followed up with a chuckle.
“Not exactly fair play, but…” He raised a hand to rub at his cheek before adjusting the gloves onto his wrists, cracking his neck and stretching the muscles in his back with one more shoulder roll before positioning himself like you were: knees bent and fists raised with the gloves fencing off your face.
“I’ll give it to you. You can throw a good punch. Beginner’s luck?”
The comment made you swing at his left, and he snapped his head to the right. You missed. There was a precision to his move, something that you lacked in as he snuck a punch to your right cheek. A grunt was stifled, and then let loose in a cough when you felt another beat to the left of your abdomen. Sputtering breath, when Dick scored another hit to your jaw.
“Fuck—“ Your eyes locked on him while he held your gaze. Your perception seemingly widened, heightened as you’d noticed the smallest movements from Dick, twitching upon instinct as if he was about to strike, but there was nothing. Just the taunt of his arms, and Dick’s teasing smile to garnish, to taunt.
He was circling you. You were circling him. It was the same movement, following each other like two predators unwilling to share the last morsel of food. You felt as much as a leader as Dick was, but from the outsider’s perspective, it was telling who was following the other’s lead.
Who was the experienced leader of the two sparring men.
Dick feigned a punch with a raise of his arm, and you immediately buckled, jerking back to nothing but a bluff of a hit. You were then greeted by an obnoxious chuckle before he landed a successful sneak to your head, a hit impactful enough to rattle your knees and knock a scoff out of you.
“Be observant. I punch better with my—”
Another swing to his left cheek. Successful, and harder this time, as it managed to stumble him from his stance. You could feel the impact of your fist on Dick, even if it was cushioned by foam.
It was exhilarating.
“Fight better with your mouth closed too.” You spat, raising your arm to strike the same cheek again. Dick detected it before you could attack, and ducked lower to the right, where he met a sudden fist to his jaw, a calculative undercut that sent him falling onto his back.
“Shit—“
Something unleashed in you. The red in your vision had scorched, burned blue as it reached its highest temperature. You immediately seized the opportunity to straddle him, to face the source of your belittlement, to look at the leader that everyone on your team had silently wish you were, that everyone had admired, to somehow stare and pierce him long enough with your eyes that you were able to tear into his body and take his incredible abilities and mold them into your own, becoming that someone that you had undoubtedly admired as well.
You threw another blow to his face, enough to knock a groan out of him. It was pleasing to your ears, the low trembles of his voice because of your touch, they twitched with gratitude. But you needed more, a beg from Dick, a plea for you to stop. You threw another punch, and then another as you became blinded by rage. It was out of your control, your arms had a mind of their own as they continued wailing on Dick, even if he had shielded himself with his arms for the last minute now.
You breathed hard, tossing your gloves off as you held him down for a stronger grip and prying his arms from his face. A need to touch him, to feel the impact that your gloves had been restraining you from. You pinned him by his bare and sweaty shoulders that made the grasp all the more slippery, but you nonetheless held him anywhere you could, by his biceps now, and stared into him. You peered into those brown eyes that mysteriously settled your fury until you’d succumb to the beautiful tranquility of his orbs, quietly pacific compared to his mouth.
Dick’s chest was rising. Up and down like your own, recovering from the pummeling you had given him. His eyes were widened as he watched you—studied you. No marks on his face, thankfully due to the cushions you were begging to be replaced with stone a tantrum prior.
It was humiliating to prove him right, about your emotions, and you sat still, on his lap, breathing. Your fists had stripped you of the little energy you had left, and turned it into mush, but you found support in the warmth of Dick’s body, still breathing. Your grasp had loosened, but remained on his biceps. Warm skin, and ever slightly kneading because of your own envy of Dick’s strength.
You felt your eyes closed, shutting yourself off of the supply of Dick’s silent consolation as the adrenaline pumping through your veins had slowed. “I can never be you, can I?”
“Who says you have to?” Finally, Dick’s voice hadn’t grated your ears like it had in the past. It was gentle as ever, but this time, there was a warmth to it that you wished you could be bundled up in if it had a physical body. A spirit that could temper you with just its warmth, rather than the toxic heat that had just boiled your rage.
“Because—they’ve seen you, Grayson. They know how you operate with the Titans. I can see it, you know? The way they look at you, then the way they look at me. It’s just…”
“You know, my team looked at me like that when they saw how Bats ran the Justice League.”
“With disgust? Contempt? Disdain? All of the above?”
“No,” He laughed, gathering himself half-way up with the support his elbows. “with... relief?”
“That’s… not helping?” You rolled your eyes, and then felt yourself flush upon coming to realization upon your current position on his lap when he sat halfway up. “Sorry—“ Without making eye contact, you brought yourself off Dick’s hips, but found yourself suddenly pulled back by the waist.
“No, no. What I meant was…” He cleared his throat, sitting up as he positioned you back on his lap again. His hands interlocked against the small of your back, a devise to keep you from abandoning him on the lone mat, but to also pull you closer, hip to hip.
“Batman… is impressive. You’ve seen him, right? How he has this presence that automatically appoints him as leader. Commander, really. I don’t know anyone that can plan better than him, but that’s not to say that he doesn’t have his faults. He’s all business, little relations. So are the others. You’ve seen them too. Supes, the Lanterns. I respect it. They respect him because of that, and vice versa. But… that’s not how my team works. Not the Titans.”
“I see…” You shifted, nodding every now and then as you listened.
“It’s just… My members are more than co-workers, you know? This isn’t some nine-to-five job that you’ll probably quit after five years. It’s… our lives now. And with them, they’re with me every step of the way. So, they’re more than co-workers. You don’t protect co-workers. Not saying the Justice League don’t care about each other… But what you do protect are friends, families. Yeah, they’re my family, so I treat them as such. And maybe… that’s why they seemed relieved they were part of my team. And…”
“I just have to find what works with my team?”
“Yeah. I mean, you guys are just starting out. Everyone’s still adapting, still getting to know each other, still figuring out each other’s powers, right? Things are bound to be a little more destructive in terms of chemistry.”
“I don’t know… I just… I don’t know if I can lead them like you guys can. I’m not like you guys. In terms of skills, in terms of leadership, in terms of—“
“Then work on that with your team. That’s what a good leader does, they seek out help from their teammates and let them know that their opinions and help are valued.”
It sounded absolutely simple. Something that shouldn’t have taken you this long to figure out, but Dick was right. Rather than seeking for your team’s help, you thought you had to endure whatever situation had arisen on your own. It weighted heavily on your shoulders, until you couldn’t muster up the strength to push your own weight. And in turn, that affected your team. You needed them, just as much as they needed you.
“And here you are…” Dick continued, suddenly bursting with a smile. “Instead of spending time with your team, you’re with me. I know I’m quite charming, but geez, (M/N), can a guy get some alone time?”
You scoffed and lightly punched at his chest. “Did we forget that you were the one joining me in the gym when you have your own in the tower? Copying my every move? What’s up with that?”
He shrugged, kneading nonchalantly at your sides. “Knew you’d be alone. Knew you were probably blaming yourself, moping around. Thought I would give you a little push.”
You shifted again, your hands keeping close to yourself as you couldn’t muster up the strength to complain about his wandering hands.
Or rather, find anything about his hands to complain about.
“Push as in to annoy me?”
“Well, I was supposed to be teaching you some things, but, uh… you were playing whack-a-mole with my head earlier.”
“That’s because—“ You sighed, dropping your head low in embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t know. Everything started happening so fast and—“
“No, it’s fine. It gives me the perfect opportunity to introduce you my first lesson of the week.” He was sincere, smiling up at you, almost as if he had mistaken your brief fit of rage as a game of tag.
“What’s that?” You asked, meeting his eyes once again.
He pondered for a moment,, pursing his lips as he was lost within his thoughts before speaking again. “How To Communicate To Your Team 101.”
“How is that even going to—“
You felt a sudden press to your lips. A softness that awakened your five senses by tenfold, and a desire that you had kept vaulted in the back of your mind; now beginning to unlock to its freedom the longer Dick had his lips on you. It wasn’t right. No, it wasn’t like it was morally wrong, it was just…
You hesitated, conjuring up all the reasons in your head on why kissing Dick wasn’t a good idea. But it was futile. Everything had been resolved within this moment; the way he let you use him like a punching bag, the way he didn’t spare a single second to share his empathy for your concerns, the way he tended to your wounds days prior despite your brazen disregard to his kindness.
You were being selfish again, guarding yourself off with ice like you had done with the others. When in reality, you wanted him.
No, you desperately needed him.
You felt him open up his mouth, assuming he was about to speak, but you seized his breath with a slot of your lips, and kissed him. One hand came up to rest on his cheek, to finally feel the slight scruffs you had delivered on his skin, and you caressed tenderly across textured skin, to the slow rhythm of your lips, whispering, “Sorry… again.”
“Don’t be. Without it, you wouldn’t have been on my lap. And… I wouldn’t be kissing you right now.” Dick muttered, a satisfaction to his voice like he had gotten his wish fulfilled. He ran a lone hand up your back, then back down your spine, bone tingling once he repeated again under your hoodie, and gazed across your bare skin.
“What are you doing to me…” It was a genuine question, something you wished could be answered because you didn’t know yourself. And yet, you were scared of the answer if Dick was to ever give you one. It’d been a while since you felt like this, with someone else.
For the past few months, you hated him. Couldn’t stand the sight of him. And now, you feel like you couldn’t tear yourself apart from him. From the softness of his lips and to the warmth of his body; the longer you endured him, the more you realized you had been captivated by Dick all along.
“I don’t know, but… I like figuring you out.” Dick’s speech was slurred from dragging his lips down to your jaw, nipping at your sweaty skin. “Like how you push me away, but you can’t help but tolerate me whenever I’m in the room.” He breathed you in, sucking at the corner of the sharp bone. You pressed your head into his neck, silently letting him take you. “How you’d sneak glances at me and roll your eyes, only to keep on staring… and staring… until you hadn’t realized that I was looking back at you. Because you were too busy looking at me.”
Nothing but the truth came out Dick’s mouth. Remarkably candid, because you thought you were more covert about your conflicting feelings for him. It brought a bloom of heat to your cheeks, and you hid your face inside his neck, groaning because Dick began licking at your neck, and because you felt stripped, absolutely vulnerable.
“Dick…” Something was rising in your shorts, tightened around the center. Warm and pulsing, even when Dick had unzipped your hoodie and thrown them to the side. A chill was felt across your bare back, most likely a draft from the vent, and Dick held you closer, sandwiching the heat, and suddenly your erection, between his body and yours.
“I knew you never hated me.” There was something about your chest that he loved. How smooth it felt. A few hairs had grown at the center, raised from the feelings Dick was supplying to your body. They tickled his cheek whenever he rubbed himself against it until they were then flattened with a long, fluttering lick as he maintained eye contact with you. “Always right.”
The taste of your sweat was salty yet delicate on his tongue.
“Hate is a strong word...” Your fingers threaded through Dick’s locks, scrunching them into your fist when he started toying one nipple at a time with his tongue. The wet muscle flicked deftly, then he suckled, and then tugged, like he had known your body, like he had explored your body before. It was strange, how he knew the right thing to say, and the right thing to do.
Maybe he was ‘always right.’
“Whatever it is, it’s not stopping you right now.” His hands dropped to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled away from your swollen nubs. It was unwilling. You could see it in his eyes, the thirst to ruin, and it compelled him to bring another suck to your nipples, a few seconds more that almost pulled a dangerous whimper out of you before he ultimately paused. “Nor is it stopping me.”
With a gentle push on your chest, he leaned you back onto the mat while lifting your hips up, smoothly sliding your shorts off. They joined the pile containing your hoodie soon after, and then your briefs to top.
“R-right here? Aren’t there cameras or something…?” Your hands instinctively came down to cover yourself, cupping that embarrassing erection that Dick was thirsting for. The head of your cock peeked out from your clumsy gasp, and his hands instantly came up to pry your hands off.
Dick had that same look in his eyes when he was circling around you earlier. A rapacity blaring the pupil of his eyes. His piercing gaze alone kept your hands from coming up to cover yourself again. You knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against his strength.
“I doubt anyone is watching the gym… Private for a reason.” Your legs were then wrapped around his waist after pulling you by the ankles. His presence was commanding. You knew to keep your arms to your side, hands forbidden from obstructing the view of your hard, throbbing cock.
“No wonder you’re so stressed. Look how hard you are.” Dick muttered, seemingly speaking his inner thoughts because he was too distracted by the veins of your erection. Thick and pulsing as he wrapped a hand around you, and stroked, fascinated by the stretch of foreskin unfolding from the head of your cock when he pulled back, then rolling back up when he pulled forward. “This okay?”
“Fuck—Yeah… Feels good.” One arm was raised to wipe the cold sweat off your forehead, but it then rested against your forehead, shielding yourself from Dick’s gaze as he slowly pumped you back into breaking another round of sweat.
“No,” He paused, suddenly squeezing your foreskin over the tip of your swollen glans. You whimpered. Not only did he squeeze you tight, stripping you of a friction that you desperately had been needing more of. But Dick was teasing, threatening with the dull movement of his thumb as he pressed and rubbed into the fold of skin, polishing the head of your cock in a thick sheen of pre-cum as his grip would draw out a generous amount from beneath. “I want to see you properly. Look at me.”
You reluctantly met his demands, only after you felt the tip of his thumb prying into your slit. Was this supposed to be a punishment? Because you could’ve allowed it to go on for longer, knowing how much Dick marveled at how much pre-cum you were leaking out.
Your body felt hot, and your hands—they needed something to hold, something to grip. When Dick began resorting to quicker strokes to your cock, you were clawing at the mat at first, etching your presence with indentations of your nails as your warning came in vain. “I’m going to cum if you keep doing that, Dick—“
“Use your words I’m telling you.” He spat in his palm after a millisecond of a break before lubing your cock in his own spit and churning you into the tight, yet slippery friction of his fist. Dick’s gaze had been fixated on you, never once had it torn away to look at something else. Not even a peek at your cock deliciously fucking into his fist. Because in case you forgot, he liked figuring you out. “Gotta communicate with me.”
The stoicism you had worn with pride, only ever fragmenting from anger upon defeat; Dick had discovered another facet to its escalating submission, and it was delightful watching you unravel in real-time. The slick of his hands; one beating off your cock while the other massaging your balls; your expressions had given yourself away on how to break you down. Maybe it was because you had given up keeping up the facade. Or maybe it was because it was Dick, who has done more than enough to earn your trust, that you found yourself nearly crumbling.
He had studied you, his hands continuing to wander, explore every part of you while silently cataloging the right spots to make you crack. You were close, hanging off the edge with one hand, nails dulling over a cliff as you desperately prevented gravity from pulling you down under. When his hand had left your balls in favor of suddenly pushing a finger inside of your tight hole, Dick knew you had completely submitted.
Your body was writhing, hips desperately thrusting in the air despite Dick pinning them down to properly stretch your hole and fill you up with another finger, and another. Your expressions were ravishing, conflicted with pleasure and tension, and your mouth opened to politely tell Dick to stop, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to utter the demand. Instead, all that came out of your mouth was a whimper of his name, a stutter that rang delectably in Dick’s ears when he interrupted you with a deep push of his fingers, curling and then pumping in and out of you, and another whimper would secure the deft removal of the rest of his shorts and briefs. All because he couldn’t contain himself anymore.
He had absolutely no right to teach you about control, for the reason that he was on the brink of losing it himself. You looked absolutely wrecked, all from the stubborn grip around your cock, the tight fit of his fingers, and Dick couldn’t imagine what you’d look like if he was in you, his thick cock fucking you, making love to you.
“Seriously, Dick—I’m about to—“
You couldn’t help it. Dick’s demand to control yourself was absolutely absurd with his reign on your body. The wet, sticky sound his spit made as Dick’s fist was being screwed by your pulsing cock drove you nuts. And then came the view of Dick’s thick cock, throbbing, pre-cum dripping heavily off of his swollen head as he watched you untouched, begging to be touched. You swore you almost surrendered had it not been for his wrist slowing down, a delicacy you begged prior, but now desperately wanted to vanish.
“God, you know I always loved it whenever you accidentally let a smile slip. But this? You’re so beautiful like this, (M/N).” He paused despite your silent pleas for him to otherwise. Though, all was forgiven when he leaned forward to kiss you on the lips. Sweet and bountiful like his words had made you feel, and you kissed him right back, an eagerness compared to his own movements, but then gratefully countered with an impatient swipe at your crack. His cock, plump and heavy, then wet and sticky as he smeared his pre-cum over your hole. Your legs remained wrapped around his hips, but Dick pushed his body weight forward until they folded with your knees touching your chest, his cock dangerously pressing at your entrance.
Dick spat in his palm again, reaching down to coat himself in the sticky layer of spit, and you felt him press. Your arms were wrapped around his neck, anticipating with an accelerating drum of your heart as he teased, slicking your pucker with the gentle, smooth circling of his tip.
“Please… I need it.” You had a gentle grasp around his nape, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. You’ve never seen him like this, so up-close and intimate. A mole, a freckle on his face that you’d never noticed, and you instantly yearned for what could’ve been all this time, had it not been for your stubbornness.
“What do you need? You need me inside of you?” Dick clarified against your lips, a whisper into your mouth as you parted them open to welcome his tongue. Hot and heavy, you let your tongue wrap around his for a tingling moment before pulling away, a string of spit webbing a path between your lips and his. “Use your words.”
“Need your cock, need you… Need everything. As long as it’s you.” You marveled at Dick, drunk off of the mutual endearment you have for each other. He regarded you with a warm smile, followed by a dazzling glint within his gaze, then relayed the turn of his mouth to yours with another kiss, a gentle warning, before Dick pushed his hips forward and slipped his cock inside of you.
“Good boy.”
“O-oh, fuck.”
Your body tensed as soon as you took the first inhale of breath since he’d breached you, sharp and abrupt, just like the pain that had jolted the muscles in your body to squeeze around him. You were playing defense, impeding the foreign introduction inside of your body with a clamp, yet Dick resisted. Rather, he thrived on your strain, adoring the suctioning feeling of his cock as if you were conflicted about inviting him in or pushing him out. It didn’t take much to figure out that it was the former. During the meantime you were adjusting to his cock, Dick was thrusting the few inches that had slid inside of you. Small and short movements to aid in your stretch, and then eventual pleasure as he gradually pushed himself deeper until you’d blossom completely open for him, like a bud in the Spring.
“Fuck, you’re so tight… So good, your ass is so good.” He was satisfied with half of his cock inside of you, rocking into you slowly until you felt comfortable enough to have him harder, faster. Till then, it was perfect like this. Breathing in your whimpers, holding your face like it was the last vestige of your sanity, before kissing you again, sweet on the mouth, tender with your tongue, to hold a fragment of your sanity within him and sealing it where no one could ever take it from him.
“T-too big, Dick—Fuck…” You whimpered again, closing your eyes from the uncomfortable detection of already feeling completely full, yet you and Dick both knew it wasn’t a complaint. Rather, it was a simple observation that had rendered you speechless, an inkling you’d disappoint Dick for not being able to take him properly, to not let him in like you had done for all these months.
“You’re doing great, baby. Doing so good… You can take it, I know you can.” His words were so warm, so kind, so gentle in your ear, low and sinking in your neck as he marked you as his with constant licks and kisses, and immediately, he dialed up your confidence by tenfold. You felt yourself relaxing, the tension in your body melting the longer he rocked half of his cock into you.
Just breathe. Breathe. You found it helpful following Dick’s breathing pattern, exhaling when he pulled out, inhaling when he pushed in, and gradually, you felt yourself opening up for him, taking him in longer strides, with little breaks, faster, harder, until you felt thoroughly plugged when he pushed once more to cork his cock inside of you, balls-deep.
“S-shit, Dick—Fuck—So good—“
Dick trembled with a moan sinking into the underside of your jaw. His cock had never felt so wanted, so warm in another’s body. You took him in without a single complaint, and it was a spectacle, an absolute wonder when Dick leaned back to watch himself completely unsheathe out of you like a dagger out of its scabbard.
“Look at that… Fucking beautiful.” Your hole was gaped open with the diameter matching the girth of Dick’s cock. Blinking, puckering desperately as it painfully endured the loss of heat, the loss of his desire. You’d never felt so exposed, completely powerless as Dick had you bending your legs further back with one hand, and the other spreading your cheeks apart to further see how much more you could stretch.
The color of your flesh was enthralling, and if the marks on your neck had not been telling that you were Dick’s; he pressed a kiss to your pucker, gentle nibbling and licking at the puffy rim before abruptly spitting inside of you, and another for good measure, the glorious designation would remind you now.
“Dick—No more, I need you, please—“ You reached down to spread your pucker with the spit dribbling out of you using two fingers, then pulled back to taste him, sucking on them before your craving for Dick would return with a vengeance, body-writhing and mind-numbingly so.
“Tell me. What do you need, hm?” Dick tapped his cock against your hole. The plump head slid smooth over the spit-covered flesh, mixing with his pre-cum, while he watched you with a grin, each swipe of his cock taunting to pull completely away unless you spoke.
“Need you. Inside of me. Fucking me. Holding me. Kissing me. Touching. I don’t know—Please, please. Just need you.” Your wishes were long-winded, but sincere. The gaze you had given him, an imploring look that Dick would take a moment to hold for a little longer despite your begging. Cherishing it, not knowing if this would be a fluke you’d later regret down the line, but in the end, all that mattered was that you let your guards down at the mercy of Dick’s guidance. Then utterly defenseless, when he gave into your wishes, a chaste kiss to your lips while doing so, and pushed himself deep inside of you with one smooth thrust.
You stiffened in Dick’s arms when they slipped around you, digging your nails into his skin. Squeezing his waist with your legs, you held onto him when he pushed the rest of his body weight over you, bending you further while keeping his lips connected to yours. He was stabilized on the tip of his toes, thrusting into, past, and against your inner muscles all at once. You clenched around his cockhead, the pleasure unbearable to resist as each dip of his hip successfully knocked a gasp from your mouth.
“So good, so tight like this…” Dick’s cock was in heaven, burying you deep until his heavy balls pressed flushed to your taint. He would stay motionless whenever he did; to catch up on his breath, to draw out his nearing high for a little longer, and to feel you, luxuriate in the warmth of your walls squeezing him tight, pulsing with dilemma, and ultimately refusing to let go. “Think I can come just like this, you squeezing my cock…”
He looked down at your face, a brief check-up. Your lips moved as if you were about to say something, but no sound came out. Only a stutter of a gasp, little sounds that Dick found incredibly magnetic, to which he found increasingly difficult to keep his lips off of you. He failed with little effort on his end, in hopes to steal those tiny sounds and keep it for himself.
Your pupils were blown when they weren’t rolling back from the smallest movement of Dick’s hips. In addition, with your lips swollen and lids heavy, you gazed up at Dick like he had saved your life, as if he had guided you towards a better place. Your life seemingly were in his hands as he held your cheeks and kissed you once more. Sweet again, rocking into you steadily, sweat sticking his skin to yours.
And maybe he did.
“Say something. I want to hear you.” A merciful demand upon your lips. You were trembling, barely swallowing down moans while Dick continuously impaled you with his cock—up into you now, when Dick leaned back until he was sitting up, and brought you back onto his lap like before, pushing your hips towards the rate of his thrusts.
Mesmerized by Dick, your mouth parted open and your throat immediately began emptying itself of all the harbored moans and groans that you had been holding hostage. “F-fuck me, keep fucking me. L-like that. No—Harder, harder—“ They rattled in volume, bouncing in sync with the way your ass had been doing against Dick’s cock, and then louder, because your marvelous sounds emerged an addiction out of Dick.
Sweet Jesus. He couldn’t stop. Watching the desire in your beautiful features, hearing your pleas reflect your want, stroking your cock awaiting for its release, marking every flesh of your skin his mouth had come in contact with. At the level of intimacy; from the pull of Dick’s hair, the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses you two shared, and the mutual passion you had for each other; you no longer felt like his disciple, but rather, an equal to Dick’s being—a derivative blessing, that would course correct each other’s life.
Your hands could barely hold onto his shoulders, but you worked with your strength, the slip of his skin, and locked your hands around his nape. Forehead to forehead, you and Dick breathed moans into each other, heavy and thick with yearning as you two pressed close, stuck to each other like glue. He cataloged the tiniest details on how your face contorted with pleasure; the scrunch of your nose, the roll of your eyes, the part of your lips. Your fist tightened around your cock, pumping it rapidly to the pace of Dick’s thrusts, churning it until your biceps had distractingly flared with veins.
You did the same. You watched Dick’s mouth agape with rapture. The scrunch of his brows when he fucked into you faster and to the root. The clench of his jaw when you squeezed tight around him, suctioning his cock until he sounded delirious with pleasure. It was beautiful. He was beautiful, and you knew he found you beautiful as well, the beautiful loss of reality from the mutual pleasure, and that was all it took to make you spill your load without a single warning.
You smashed a guttural groan to his lips and unraveled your fingers, leaning your body back to let your cock release where it pleased to afterward. “Oh, fuck—“
“Holy shit.”
Thick shots rained on Dick’s sweaty body. Three spurts to the center of his chiseled chest, and then another four splashing high in the air when Dick powered up on the sight of your cum alone, and drilled you harder, your cock dribbling in cum as he did so. His nails dug into your ass cheeks, spreading them apart, then cushioning them back around his cock to somehow press your walls against every vein pulsing through the thick of his erection.
Dick fucked you like you’d begged him to. Long, strong thrusts, to the brim on each stroke, undoubtedly hitting your prostate at every turn from the way you would jolt forward with widened, rattling, yet blissful eyes. A sight Dick would have forever ingrained into his memory, because you were officially, utterly, and completely wrecked.
It was heaven. The crown of Dick’s cock sliding over the spot, the depth of his cock rendering you immobile and dazed. Again, he’d repeat. A new addiction, surging powerfully through his veins. You let out a sob.
Again. You squeezed your eyes shut.
Again. You dug your nails into his shoulders.
And again. Dick smacked your ass at the delirious state he was in. He had completely breached inside of you, explored every inch of your hole with the circle of his hips. A thrust. A slam. A rut. He had traversed through every option to dismantle you, and like clockwork, your snug hole all but sucked on his cock, begging for him to come inside.
He couldn’t hold it anymore.
“Baby, baby…” Dick’s large hand smothered his warmth around your throat. You could feel the callous in his palm, a gentle abrasion to your smooth skin, and he rubbed your seed all over your body, then his. He fucked harder to the sight of the sticky sheen layering your body. The smell of musk. The stick to his hands. Filthy. Your body and his were filthy together. Filthier, when pleasure burst from the base of his shaft, and in turn, flooded your insides with a large load. He moaned, and you arched into him, into the stick of his body, anticipating for the rupture of your doing.
Your cock throbbed once, straining forward with its swollen head aiming towards the ceiling, and you spat thick shots of white seed into the air, eventually course-correcting to land on your body and Dick’s.
It was wonderful. You could feel Dick’s cock pulse as his seed rushed up the shaft and buried you deep into your guts with thick and heavy shots. Upon impulse, you squeezed as well, clamping around the peak of DIck’s orgasm until it must have crested with the stillness of his breath. “Don’t pull out.”
“Wasn’t planning on it…”
If he hadn’t thought it enough, you were beautiful, he was keen on calling it a mantra because it meant that he was still here, on this very earth, breathing and witnessing your very existence. Your body was weakened, barely mustering the strength to hold your chest up without the aid of Dick’s arms around you. Limp, after your second orgasm. All of you, you were so beautiful. From your rim hugging the base of your cock, your softening cock dripping, your swollen nipples, the smooth planes of your cum-stained chest, and parted lips. You were a banquet to Dick’s eyes, a feast that could muster up another around to have at you, to have you completely devoured if he had really wanted to.
But no, this was perfect. Watching you in silence, surveying up at you while you peered down at him, panting, breathing slow, in a case of wonder of how one could have such an effect on him without a morsel of effort.
“So… lessons? You always do this to new recruits?”
“Only if they absolutely suck at their role.” An exhaustion in his smile, you wanted to capture it in between your lips, and replenish him with gratitude.
“Hey— Asshole…” You muttered, a gentle knock to his chest, to which he laughed off, and then held on, to pull you in for a blissful kiss.
With the way you fit into his arms as if you’d always been meant to be there, warm where he was cold, and cold where you were warm, he knew he didn’t need his question answered.
“Kidding. Let’s just say… it was curated for a special someone. And hopefully, they liked it as much as I liked teaching it.”
“I have a good feeling that they did.”
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
im sorry i’ve been away for so long, letting this account collect dust and sit with nothing to post. 2023 was a very shitty year for me and due to life and other stresses i had to stop posting to take something off my shoulders. i won’t get into what happened but i will admit that an abuser reached out to me and made my life hell for a long while. i turned 20 and decided to get back into things.
i plan to start posting again! i need to get back into writing, i miss it and i need something to do.
expect either a purge or a redo of this account. i hope it make things easier for myself and others when looking for fics.
Please send in requests!!
i have to update the fandom list and characters because i’ve gotten into more things since last time!!
thank you all who read my fics and still supported me through my absence, i appreciate you all and i hope to get back into writing for all you lovely people !
Dean (especially) for the past few days on tumblr dot com:
[ID: a newscaster on TV, sitting at a desk and holding papers with both hands while looking at the viewer. The words “breaking news” are written in all caps on the screen behind him. End ID]
-A/N- i’m seeing the movie for the 3rd time in theaters tonight so i’m writing this out of excitement. i’ve never really written smut before so here y’all go. not beta read. no plot only porn.
-AFAB reader
-referenced pet play (calls reader puppy), praise and degradation mixed, masculine terms used (calls reader a good boy), size kink?, rough but sweet, dumbification, slight pain play? ass play (reader receiving)
his large hand on the back of your head presses you down into the hard surface of the desk as he leaned over your back to moan in your ear, “i barely have to touch you and you’re already dripping onto the floor.”
you were bent over his desk, the only flat surface with no buttons or screens in his hub. the hand at your hip glided across your skin to your ass where he gave you a small squeeze, and down to where your ass met your thigh and pulled apart your flesh with his thumb to see your cunt. you could feel the slick stain your thighs, running down your leg, your need for cock the worst it’s ever been.
“m-miguel.. please..” you whimper, wiggling your hips as he pulled away from you, standing behind you now to see how much of a mess your sex was.
He spread your ass apart with his large hands, you could almost feel the smirk he was giving you as he ran his thumb down the length of your pussy, the contact making you gasp and mewl when he flicked your clit.
“begging already? aren’t you a desperate puppy.” he said it in a mocking tone, his words turning into a small growl as you began to move your arms that were behind your back, “keep them there, i need to hold onto something when i fuck you.”
his words alone made you moan, just thinking about him driving his cock into you made your throat feel empty, you wanted him in every hole you had like you were a cheap slut.
he was hell bent on making you go insane.
“i don’t think ive ever seen your little boy cunt this wet before baby, you must really want my cock.” his thumb presses into your wet hole, an embarrassing whimper escaped your lips but his thumb never went inside. instead he slid his thumb up over your taint and presses itself against your asshole.
his wet thumb entered slowly, pushing in and out, only pushing in up to his knuckle. your cunt flexed around nothing as you moaned, it felt great but it was just that, a good feeling. it was never enough to help the every building horny feeling in your guts, it was never enough to build your orgasm, just enough to make you stupid for his cock.
“miguel please.. please fuck me. please. i cant take the teasing anymore.” you moaned pathetically and desperately, arching your back, trying to make his thumb go deeper inside. you wanted to cry. you wanted to move your arms to reach down and touch yourself but you wanted to be a good boy. you needed to be a good boy.
he was silent as he continued to finger your ass, the only sound in the large room except for the whirring of machines and computers was the sounds of your needy moans.
“you’re so fucking sexy when you’re this desperate, begging me to fuck you like a bitch in heat. does my good boy want me to fill him with my cock? want me to put my pups in you?” he growls in a low voice that made your clit throb with need.
you were quick to beg, “please. please sir fuck me. i’ll do anything please.” hot tears pricked your eyes, you just wanted to fuck so badly it was making you stupid. all you could think about was his cock and his teasing thumb wasn’t helping.
“so needy.” he slid his thumb out of you, and you wanted to sob. “but you have been such a good boy for me, maybe i should give the pathetic bitch what they want.”
your brain short circuited as soon as you felt something hard press against your leaking cunt. without having to turn around you knew the head of his cock was pressing against you. one hand left your ass as he grabbed his dick and slid it up and down your pussy, getting it all wet, but never touching your throbbing needy clit. the small touch had you trying to rock your hips back into him. your mind was hazy, you wanted to sob, you just needed his cock.
he chuckled watching you, thinking it was endearing how badly you craved him.
without warning he lined up and pushed himself inside your pussy with the snap of his hips, your tight hole spread so nicely for his thick length as he bottomed out. the sound you made as he pushed against your cervix could best be described as a sob, needy and weak yet loud as he pulled out and slammed back into you harshly.
“f-fuck.” a tear fell down your cheek as another strangled moan escaped you.
he took your wrists in one hand and pressed them into your back with his body weight, pressing you into the table, keeping you pinned against the surface as he fucked into you, his other hand keeping your ass spread for him to watch how your messy cunt swallowed him.
“that’s it baby. oh fuck, look at how you take me so well. i’m always so surprised that you can take my cock like you do.” his claws poked out of his fingertips as he held onto you and fucked you hard and slow, so close to breaking the skin but the pain mixed with pleasure and you could barely feel it.
his dick stretched you out, splitting you apart as he trusted hard into your cervix making that uncomfortable pleasure spot your vision before he slid out slowly only to bottom out again in one hard thrust. he was going too slow but he was fucking you so good it made you see stars as his thick cock dragged against your walls. his heavy balls swung as he trusted into you.
“dios mio you’re so tight.” he moaned. that’s one thing you loved about him, he was so vocal. “i don’t ever want to stop fucking you. i’m gonna ruin you for anyone else, fuck you like how you deserve it so you’ll never go to anyone else, you’ll only be craving me.”
if your brain was working you’d answer him with how that’s exactly what you’d want but he started to pick up speed, drilling into you now with more force. your slick wet coated his pelvis, one drop mixing with his sweat and running down his thigh as he fucked you.
you were too hot in your own skin, your pathetic whimpers turned into gasps and loud moans as the head of his cock slid against every sensitive part inside you. he slid his hand from his hips to in front of you, your heart catching in your throat with hope that he’d pay attention to your aching clot but he presses his large hand hard against your lower stomach, squishing you to press against your g-spot from outside as his dick thrusted into you. your hips twitched and back arched higher, lifting your head off the table to almost scream.
he felt so good. he felt so fucking good. he was basically using you as a flashlight now and you wouldn’t have it any other way. tears streamed down your face cooling off your hot cheeks somewhat, your brain only focused on him and the way he was fucking you. you were cock drunk off him, fucked stupid into submission to where you can’t think, can’t see, all your senses focused on him. you could only smell the scent of sex, sweaty, and the musky smell of him, it made your heart swell with some form of primal lust. your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked you from behind.
“m-miguel. s-ah oh fuck- sir.” you mewl between gasps.
“what does my pathetic puppy want?” his husky voice sent shivers down your spine.
his thrusts never let up, his hard cock abusing your needy cunt. you lost your entire train of thought when he slid the hand on your stomach lower to touch your clit. he rubbed against the bundle of nerves in a hard circle, pressing hard enough that it hurt. you gasped out a series of cusses, your breathing so erratic you’d think you were hyperventilating.
“what is it baby boy? there something you want? you can tell me, it’s alright. f-fuck you’re doing so good for me.” he sounded like he was loosing his composure, his voice going from hard and gruff to a desperate sound, he loved fucking you so hard your thighs shook.
you jerk your hips as he pinched your clit in between his thumb and pointer and rubs his fingers together, your juices dripping down his fingers and onto the small puddle below you two.
“f-fuck, please don’t stop. make me cum please, please please please. c-cum inside me.” you manage to get out between gasps and moans. you get stuck repeatedly begging out ‘please’ under your heavy breath, brain and body turned into nothing more than a sex toy only desperate for his cum.
“oh is that really how desperate you are? begging me to make you cum around my dick? don’t worry sweetheart, i’ll cum in you… eventually.”
good to know you won’t have the use of your legs tomorrow.
A/N Honestly this is really self-indulgent ‘cuz my instincts went “This mf forgets to eat I just know it.” and turned it into a really fluffy fic lmao. I wrote this with a male Spiderman in mind, but gender-neutral readers are also welcome of course! Hope you all enjoyed it!
Lunch
Tags: Miguel O’hara x m!Reader, Possible gn!Reader, Peter B. Parker, Mayday Parker, mention of Gwen, Fluff, Just taking care our resident dilf, He/him prns, Spiderman!Reader, caring!reader, Emotionally constipated Miguel? Emotionally constipated Miguel., Peter being the best wingman, Mayday being her cute self, Self-indulgent
Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. So what do you do? Exactly, force him into taking a break… Sorta.
Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. Only when his body is finally demanding food does he leave the monitors in the care of Jessica or Lyla while he goes through the cafeteria for a satisfying meal or his favorite Empanadas. So far, if there wasn't a catastrophic event—Which is pointless because he would've seen it before anyone else—Or a Spider-person that needs his immediate help, he keeps himself perched on his platform, monitoring the vast universes, unblinking, the video of him and his daughter playing just on his peripherals.
“Miguel! How long have you been up there?” Until you.
Another Spiderman that joined the spider society just a couple of months ago has managed to worm his way into Miguel’s thorn bushes. He doesn't even know how, or when, did you start to become a constant in his nonstop monitoring but you did, annoyingly so. Your voice echoes the large room, steps follow suit as you stand at the base of his lair.
You huff, before pulling your mask off and arching a brow while your question is left unanswered. You’ve only done this a handful of times. The day you learned that Miguel O’hara, the guy that doesn't leave his damn perch unless you can hear his stomach rumble a mile away or his body forces him to take a nap, you’ve dedicated a bit of your time to make sure he takes a time off from those screens. Spiderman or not, he still needs rest.
“Seriously man,” You sigh, considering swinging yourself up to that damn platform. “Have you eaten anything for the last 7 hours?”
Another silence. “You missed lunch, y'know, if it weren't for Lyla I would have thought you died.”
Of course, nothing. You blink, annoyed, before deciding to just turn around and head to the cafeteria yourself. If he won't get food for himself then you will.
At this point, seeing you exit Miguel’s office has been a normal recurrence for the other Spider-people. So when you walk down the corridor, others wave and said their hi’s while you reply back. As much as you miss your universe, hanging out with others of your kind is refreshing. You reach the end of the walkway where it drops before you shoot out webs and swing to where the cafeteria is, cutting your journey short. Who knows how long Miguel has neglected his stomach?
You picked up today's dinner menu, thanking the server, before snagging an Empanada and then swiftly swinging back to Miguel's office. You make your way inside, making sure to not trip on the scattered tech and cables, and to no one’s surprise; he’s still staring at those screens.
“Here,” You sat the plate and box down on one of the many boxes and tables around his office. “Eat it, or not. I’m sure your stomach will appreciate it if you do,”
You shrugged before swiftly walking back to exit his lair once more, rolling your eyes when he doesn't respond again. Typical.
—
“I really don't get his problem, I mean, I'm just looking out for him, isn't that what teammates do?”
“No ones ever really brought him food, man,”
“Yeah well he’ll get his own food when he starves, and I don't think the others would like that,” You snicker before landing beside Peter. He was heading to Miguels to report a new potential member so you tagged along, besides you missed holding Mayday.
“I think he appreciates it though,” Peter presses the button and the door opens, the three of you walking inside. You cross your arm, watching as Mayday starts to scale his dad, her giggles contagious.
“Weird way of showing it,” You huff, eyeing the girl as she starts pulling at Peter's strands before you reach for her, cradling her against your chest and tickling her little body. “No ‘Thank you’? Or y’know, a small ‘thanks’ maybe?”
She coos, turning her head as if she understands your rambling. You hold her under her arms, then nuzzle her fluffy hair which makes her giggle. You stare down her eyes, wrinkling your nose. “He’s a little crap isn't he, May?” She cackles in delight which makes you grin.
“Hey, no swearing around the kid,” Peter grumbles and when Mayday makes grabby hands towards her father, you hand her back.
“Says the dad that takes his daughter on missions?” You smirk, lightly punching Pete’s shoulder, making both of you laugh, and Mayday follows suit with her giggles. Finally reaching Miguel’s lair, the man is always on his platform, before Peter calls for him to report. As you watch the platform dramatically descend, this time with Miguel holding a screen tablet and facing you and Peter.
At least he’s not facing those screens this time, you thought. You cross your arms, eye scanning around the room when you spot a clean cafeteria plate on the same table you left it on a couple of hours before.
“Hey uh…” Peter hums when you start to reach for the plate. “You go on ahead, I’ll be right back,”
You quickly picked up the utensil and went ahead outside, already swinging your way toward the cafeteria. You peek inside the box and to your delight, the empanada you brought for him is already gone. You smile, humming in relief as you make your way to drop off the plate. You gave it to the staff and threw the box into the trash before you made your way back to the lair again.
A smile creeps its way to your lips and it won't leave, the feeling of a small blooming rose inside your heart as you realize Miguel does eat the food you leave for him.
As you made your way through the doors, you heard the deep baritone of Miguel's voice conversing with Peter.
“I don't understand him.” That made your step falter. You swiftly pressed back to the hallway leading to Miguel's lair, making sure to hear their voices clearly, though deep down you knew you shouldn't do this.
“What don't you understand, man? He just cares about you,” Peter's voice is accompanied by Mayday's giggling. “He brings you food and makes sure you take breaks, I mean, I think that’s a pretty good thing,”
“I know It’s a good thing, Peter. But why? What does he want?”
“Not everything needs to have an ulterior motive, Miguel,” Peter chuckles, you can hear Mayday's laughs too. “Maybe he just wants to. Who knows,”
Then there was silence. You blink, processing the conversation, a million other thoughts fly by you, the biggest was your worry about burdening him. Maybe Miguel doesn't want you to do this, why else would he think you wanted something from him? Maybe you should back down, leave him alone like how everyone else treats him, maybe-
“It is… Nice of him, though,” A sudden rush of heat flows into your cheeks.
“I should thank him, one of these days,” Miguel continued. At this point, Peter should have sensed you but has said nothing. Until Mayday turns the corner and then came crawling into your view, you decided to make your appearance.
You scoop up the little girl, cuddling her close to your chest. “Hey, kiddo! You shouldn't be back here!”
She cackles, little hands reaching for your strands which makes you laugh. You pull your head up to see Miguel and Peter standing at the end of the hallway, Peter with an oddly smug look while Miguel suddenly turns towards his monitors. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothin’, just done reporting,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, walking towards you before taking Mayday, “I should head back though, this little spider needs her nap, don't you?”
Mayday giggles in her father's arm, Peter already waving as he exits the office. “Later, you two!”
“See ya’ Pete!” You wave back, catching May’ little hands waving too before the door closes.
Now it's just you and Miguel. It's rare seeing him off of the platform, away from that far-away bubble. You’ve only seen him on duty with other Spideys, that's the only time he’s away from the glowing screens. He’s still focused on the screen tablet when you jogged closer. Now that you’re meters away from him, You notice how broad his shoulders actually are, and the slight curls on the back of his head. You clear your throat, looking at anything other than Miguel.
“So… The new recruit Peter gave you? We taking them in?”
“Huh? Yeah, yes.” Miguel shifts slightly, you rub your hands together.
“Alright, cool,” You cringe, the air suffocating with tension and unspoken words. You look around, before deflating, your hand scratching the back of your neck. “Well… I’m gonna go then-”
“Wait.” You stop yourself from turning. “You don't have to keep doing that,”
“Doing what?” You raise a brow, with your mask off and Miguel in front of you, he can clearly see your slightly smug face.
“That. Bringing me food. I don't need it,” Miguel finally pries his eyes away from the tablet, now meeting yours.
You chuckle. “Last time I checked, you're still human Miguel,”
“I can do that myself,” He steps towards you, which makes you pull up your hands defensively.
“Alright, sure boss, but you only eat when your body forces you. That can't be healthy,” You huff, crossing your arms and meeting his deep reds. He backs down, looking towards the far wall.
Great, an argument instead of him just agreeing with me, You sighs, looking down at the concrete floor. What were you thinking? Miguel can take care of himself, of course, he’s a fucking old man and you probably disrupted his old man metabolism or some shit like that.
“I- Thanks.” Your perk up, quickly meeting his still-averting eyes. “That's what I wanted to say. Thanks,”
You smirk. ”Yeah, of course, Miguel,”
“Maybe… You can let Lyla take over, or someone, and uh…” Shit, maybe this is too bold…
Fuck it. “Join me for lunch, sometime?”
It was a mistake. The deafening silence was clearly a loud rejection from Miguel and you wanted to quickly blurt out something, anything to salvage what you had before, but he beat you to it.
“Sure, sometime,” You whip your head around, almost smacking with how close Miguel and you were standing. His eyes widened slightly, a ghost of a smirk across his lips and it made you gulp.
“Y-yeah, sometimes, yeah,” His brow quirks a bit when you start stumbling your way through his lair. “I should uh- I think Gwen called me so uh-”
The last thing he saw from you was your stuttering word and your body turning the corner of his office, then a loud ‘Fuck yeah!’ before you disappeared. Truly a wonder how you, out of anyone, managed to pique Miguel’s interest.
all day i’ve been thinking about wireplay with genji- cuz he’s a cyborg so it would work- wireplay while he’s trying to fuck you but he’s overloading from the pleasure of the wires so it’s just weak thrusts as he’s gasping and whimpering on top of you as your hands are in his open chest, overheating so his vents let out steam
He wants to fuck you so bad and make you cum but he’s feeling too good to even focus on thrusting, his mind hazy and he feels like he’s going to explode
I’m gonna be writing something,,, keep an eye out,.
