Chapter Text
A glass smashed in the empty halls of the Spider HQ, closely followed by a startled yelp.
You fought to catch your breath as you glanced at the floor.
You’d dropped the glass cup that you’d been diligently trying to put back in its place, so diligently in fact that you’d balanced yourself on one foot atop the enormous kitchen counters.
You huffed. Great, that was definitely coming out of your paycheck now.
With a light hop you dropped back down to the floor, stumbling to avoid the newly smashed glass.
You fully expected to have alerted someone. It was hard to not be constantly noticed when working in a society made up entirely of spider-themed superheroes, so a shattered glass should have summoned nearly a hundred variations of those arachnid clad supes to your location.
Luckily for you, this time there was no one.
You heaved a sigh of relief and began cleaning the mess; your slip-up would go unnoticed.
You’d only been welcomed into the Spider Society a few months ago, and were still very much on a form of probation, so avoiding slip-ups was in your best interest.
Oh, that wasn’t to say that you yourself had spider powers. Quite the contrary. You were simply a member of the maintenance crew for the building.
A regular citizen with a job that, in your world, was fairly routine.
It had certainly been an adjustment for you. The architecture wasn’t quite fit for a non-superhuman, with the twisting corridors and upside-down rooms. You’d had to learn how to use a pully rope to free fall through many parts of the building to fulfil your role, and still frequently got motion sickness just standing in some areas of the base.
Still, it was rewarding work, and you enjoyed feeling like you were part of something bigger.
That was also why you were here now, when almost every other spider person, animal and other had slipped back to their own dimensions. It was one of those rare events where everyone was naturally either busy or taking time off, and the few spiders on site had convened in one of the break rooms at the bottom of the HQ while you worked toward the top.
It was incredibly unusual for the building to feel this sleepy, this eerily quiet. You had to wear earphones or else the creepiness would have driven you back to civilization in an instant.
You finished clearing the now closed cafeteria and shouldered your rope, walking lazily toward your next job. You even checked your phone as you crossed the support beams toward the next main corridor.
You were truly calm here. Even with the silence, you knew it was safe.
It was a great surprise to you, then, when a cry of pain nearly knocked you off balance, a sound so loud it managed to get through your earphones.
You ripped them out immediately as you steadied your feet to the beam.
‘Hello?’ you called, your voice echoing. No response.
You felt your breath come a little faster. It wasn’t unheard of for things to go wrong here, but never when it was this quiet. Nobody came swinging by, no one sounded an alarm. This all felt entirely unnatural.
Then it sounded again.
A man’s grunt of pain, loud enough to echo. You frowned. It was hard to discern exactly where the sound was coming from but it seemed to be from the head office, which happened to be where you were cleaning next.
You swallowed hard and gripped your rope a little tighter. Indecision was rocking you in place. Did you go down and find someone? Did you go and check it out? It sounded like someone was in pain.
You knew it would take nearly 20 minutes to half an hour for you to scale all the way to the bottom, the only place you knew where a few spider people were still around, and what if your slowness got someone killed? If it was a spider person, they should have their watch to call for help. That meant you could leave, right?
Oh, but what if they needed help calling someone?
Your feet began dancing on the spot with frustration. No, you should go and check. You couldn’t work for an institute like this and be so cowardly.
With careful steps you crept up toward the main office, jumping onto the flattened surface where the room opened up. The light here was incredibly dim, as always. The owner of this office was sensitive to light so they always kept it low. It was usually useful, but right now it was making you a million times jumpier.
Through the corridor, through the office tables and around the now empty anomaly cages, you followed the little grunts of pain until at last you came to his office.
You paused for a moment with your hand on the door. It was slightly ajar, which was immediately off-putting.
‘H-Hello?’ you called, struggling to make your voice rise above a whisper. A grunt echoed through the room, immediately catching your attention. You jerked your head around the door and called again.
‘Hello? Does anyone need help? I-I can call for-‘
You froze in the doorway immediately. It was Miguel.
The founder of the Spider Society was crumpled in his room, surrounded by out-of-place debris and smoking cinders. His room looked untouched otherwise so you assumed he must have panicked and portalled in. He was bent over, almost collapsed, his fists tight and his back arched as he breathed in uneven patterns.
You swallowed hard at the sight, head swinging back and forth between the corridor and him.
You knew him reasonably well, or, more accurately you knew him by appearance. He wasn’t the chatty type. He never had a word to say to you, or anyone for that matter, that wasn’t about business. All you knew was that he was a stony, sarcastic, hot tempered leader.
Well, mostly. You also knew you had a considerable crush on him.
It felt too silly to call it a crush but that seemed the best term. He terrified and fascinated you in equal measure, you felt giddy in his presence. He was a beautiful being. But this meant that you were petrified of messing up in front of him. Revealing too much, appearing too familiar, anything of the sort would mortify you.
All of this contributed to your hesitation in the doorway, as you clung to the frame and darted your head about for anyone else to intervene.
You knew realistically that no one would think to come up, not unless you went to get them. You knew you were just trying to put it off.
No, stop being afraid, you told yourself. He probably needs temporary help until he can call someone on the watch. If anyone found out you ran when seeing someone in distress you’d be in so much trouble, and besides, he was a good man, right?
He was respected here, he deserved help.
You sucked up your fear and pushed through the door, hopping a few steps toward him.
'Sir, are you okay? Do you need help?’
You jumped as his body jerked on the floor, his fist reaching out to grab anything nearby. He said nothing in response.
This worried you for a moment, until you sucked up that same courage you’d manifested in the doorway and continued forward.
‘Sir?’
With careful steps you stumbled across the debris on the floor, jumping over the ash and cinders until you were barely a foot from his side. Still, he did not look up.
‘Sir?’ Your voice shook as you spoke and you cursed yourself for it.
You could see clearly now a tear in the side of his suit, one that was lightly sparking. His forehead was pressed tight to the floor, his clawed fists ripping into the metal. You felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of such a thing so close. With hands outraised in pre-emptive surrender, you dropped down to your knees before him. ‘Sir, I-'
It all happened in a split second, too fast for a mere human like you to even process let alone combat.
Miguel reared his head with his fangs outstretched, eyes wide and slit. They burned like the blood moon as he descended on your body.
You felt his claws on your arms. That was the first thing you felt. The ripping, the tearing, the slight wave of hot pain as they barely pierced your skin. He gripped you tight and took you down to the floor, pouncing and pinning your chest like an animal. You couldn’t even scream.
With helpless eyes you watched his maw extend, his red eyes reflecting a bloody haze onto your own, as he launched his mouth forward and sank into your neck.
You released a sound that was entirely out of your control. A violent noise halfway between a gasp and a moan, a noise that shuddered at the end as shock consumed your body. You felt the puncture. You felt the sinking, felt as each fang penetrated your soft skin, felt the strength in his jaw as it clamped down on your pathetic frail form.
Something was burning where he’d bitten down on your flesh, that was the next thing you felt. Too shocked to move or even blink you lay in submission as the burning spread, and felt your body go numb. In barely two seconds you were down and out.
Then, just like that, he withdrew. He retracted his teeth and stumbled backwards, those violent eyes now wild and horrified.
‘Shit- Shit, no, no no I’m so sorry-'
You watched, immobilized, as Miguel collapsed onto his hands and knees beside your body. ‘Can you speak? Can you speak?’
Yes, you thought, but your mouth didn’t move. You couldn’t move your lips, couldn’t feel your tongue. You couldn’t move anything, actually, for that matter.
‘FUCK! God- DAMN IT!’
You watched from your frozen position as a piece of debris went flying, and heard the resounding thud of his body hitting the floor not long after. The shock was the only thing keeping you together in that moment.
At last, his face appeared again. ‘Hey, hey, I know you can hear me.’
He leered across your body and phased his mask aside so you could see his lips move, gently tapping your cheek. ‘It’s okay, you’re not dying. That’s what everyone thinks. My venom just- immobilizes people, I use it as a non-lethal tactic to stop bad guys. It won’t kill you, it won’t damage you, it’ll just- you’ll be out of it, for a while.’
At this point the adrenaline and shock were beginning to wear themselves thin. You could feel your body drifting in and out of consciousness, your eyelids drooping. They were the only part of your body you still seemed capable of using.
‘Hey! Hey, are you-'
His words turned to white noise in your ears. You let your eyelids close. The world was spinning after all, and it hurt your head to look at it. As his voice faded out you drifted into that unfeeling darkness.
…
You woke up with your eyes still closed.
This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for you, you weren’t exactly an early bird, and so you didn’t question why you couldn’t feel a thing at first. You were blissfully unaware in those few sweet moments, lost in the void of sleep-induced amnesia.
You did notice one thing eventually, however.
Why were you so cold? Why was your bed so firm and itchy? Did you not have a blanket on? And why, why, could you not feel your own body?
‘You awake?’
Your eyes shot open. You regretted it immediately as light flooded your senses, the bright spots blinding you as a ripping migraine pounded your skull. You blinked rapidly to try and stave off the pain, at which point the stranger's voice rang out again.
‘It’s okay, you’re alright.’
It took a few minutes for you to adjust. When the world stopped spinning you realized where you were. You were in the spider-society HQ, which you knew because you were in a room you frequently took breaks in. It was one of the only spaces that abided by the laws of physics; a small changing room with ugly wall paint, decorated with just a sofa and coffee table. It was largely forgotten at the tippy top of the building so it made for the perfect space to be alone.
Why were you here, though?
Oh, of course. You’d stumbled upon Miguel’s collapsed body and he’d violently bitten you, at which point you passed out.
That same Miguel who was now sitting beside your body on the sofa, hands gripped in his lap. You let out a startled scream.
‘Hey, hey! It’s okay!'
He leaned forward as you tried to scramble away, but you realized again pretty quickly that you couldn’t move.
‘Why- I can’t move, I can’t move’ you stammered.
‘I told you, it’s the venom. It’ll wear off soon. You’re just immobilized, no damage.’
You panted as you tried to calm your thundering heart. ‘Why- Why did you bite me? I didn’t-'
‘It was an accident, I swear!’
As he spoke his hands came down on your shoulders, holding you in place as he met your eyes. ‘I just got out of a bad situation and I- I didn’t realize the portal had worked, I thought you were the enemy. It was my fault. I’m sorry, okay? I swear, I’m sorry.’
You felt your breathing slow as you stared into his eyes. He seemed genuine, there were dark groves under his eyes from knotting his face with worry. You took one final heavy breath to soothe your heart.
‘I- Okay, okay, I understand’ you said.
He sighed through his nose. You watched as he gripped the space between his brows between his thumb and forefinger. That spot had been red, you noticed. He must have been doing this a lot while you were out cold.
‘I’m sorry.’
He repeated that same line again as he shuffled back onto the edge of the cushions. He folded his hands like a man at a prayer table, or perhaps a man in a confessional booth. He seemed truly sorry.
‘It’s- It’s fine' you said.
He grunted at that, seemingly displeased. ‘It’s not fine. You should know it's not fine, it worries me that you think it was.’
‘It-… it’s fine, sir’ you repeated. He shot you a veiled look, one that withheld thoughts you could not discern.
With heavy movements he shuffled back across the sofa, his hands coming down on either side of your legs. ‘Can you feel everything yet?’ he asked, his voice gruff. He seemed so tightly wound, you thought to yourself.
‘I- I’m not sure’ you replied. His eyes moved from your face to your body. You noticed his suited hand shifting on his lap.
‘Can I check?’
You paled as his eyes met yours. ‘Check my- what?’ you stammered.
His lip curled into the ghost of a droll smile. ‘Check your body, if you can feel anything yet or if the nerves can respond to stimuli properly.’
‘Uh- sure, yeah, that’s- fine.’ You were trying your best to have a steady voice, but god you were failing so badly. He seemed unphased at least.
You watched as Miguel shuffled closer.
With his hip against yours, he pressed his fingers into your leg, moving up from your ankle to your thigh to your stomach to your chest. Each press was slow and deliberate as he tried to catch any movement.
'How’s that?’ he said gruffly.
‘Ah- I can feel it, I just can’t move still’ you said. ‘I can sort of move my hands, and, I think my arms are coming back but that’s it.’
You knew that was an understatement; your body felt incredibly sensitive after the venom, and while you couldn’t move every press of his hand sent goosebumps up your spine.
He grunted again. You watched as he ran a hand down his face. 'God damn it- Alright, don’t worry. I’ll stay here until you can stand, I can try and manually get the blood flowing so the venom leaves your body quicker.’
Your face went quickly from pale to flushed. Manually pump you? What did that mean?
As if to answer your question he moved his hands back to your ankles, lightly pushing your work pants aside to press into the soft skin.
‘A-Ah-'
you whimpered in response as he pushed on the tender muscle of your lower leg. He was gentle as he moved, clearly trying his best to massage the blood flow upward, but you could sense the strength he was holding back in each touch.
You wanted to be calm about the situation. You wanted to just be cool, collected, nonchalant, as you waited for your body to wake up so you could both go your separate ways. You couldn’t though, because you were unbearably aroused by everything this man did.
It was your great shame at this moment. Even after he'd attacked you, to your personal disgust you found even the memory of that somewhat erotic. His rugged face, his burning eyes, his inhuman strength and broad shoulders and jagged teeth. He was beautiful, and now he was all over your bare skin in an empty room while you were utterly immobile. It was unbearable.
You held your tongue as he moved from your lower leg to your upper thigh where he, at last, paused in his touch.
'I'll- Mm, fuck- I'll have to, remove these' he said curtly, gesturing to your loose fitted uniform.
You were screaming inside at this point. 'Ah- You, why?'
He closed his eyes; you couldn't tell what that strain in his face was from. Exasperation? Shyness? Shame? Something else?
'I can't press on the muscles properly with them in the way. I can stop, if you want, it'll just- take longer.'
You sucked in a sharp breath to sooth your nerves. You didn't want to make him sit here any longer, but, did you want him to touch you? To see you like that? The obvious answer was screaming in your head: Yes. Yes. You did. You wanted him to touch you. But you didn't. But you did. You exhaled a shaky, barely muffled groan of agony before replying.
‘No, t-that's- fine, you go ahead’ you said through a forced smile.
He broke his concentration to scan your face again. He must sense the tension in your body. Did he know what a perverted mind you had, or did he mistake it for fear? Either option was mortifying.
‘I won’t hurt you’ he mumbled. That perfect, chiseled, stoic face stared you down in earnest. You were sweating with the effort of not whimpering.
‘I know.’
He raised an eyebrow at that. Shit. Your voice was so clearly strained. You tried to shoot him an apologetic look, but to your surprise he didn’t look upset. You could have sworn he looked curious. His stony, stoic silence was the same as always, but his eyes were darting. He seemed to be scanning you for something.
No, you thought, push it down. Pretend to be normal. You flashed an apologetic smile and turned your eyes away first. He snorted before moving to continue his work.
With your body still immobilised you were forced to lie back and watch as he undid your uniform pants and slowly slipped them off, and your shoes with them. You could see he was making an effort to look away, to be as quick as he could, because the moment your skin was bare he went immediately back to massaging.
As his hand pressed into your thigh you fought to bite your tongue, suppressing every embarrassing noise that threatened to escape. You were worried the strain must have shown on your face.
Back to the sofa, utterly immobile, you felt with every inch of your soul as his hands tried to bring your body back to its senses.
Each deep press into your skin caused a knot in your gut. You could feel your blood flowing, but not in the way he’d anticipated. You felt compelled to say something, anything.
‘I’m sorry, I-'
Your breath came short, your words choked by a gasp. Miguel’s retractable claws had slipped out and were brushing the bare skin of your inner thigh.
‘S-Sir?’
You tried to tilt your head to see him. He had a look of panic on his face. Was it an accident, then? You felt the claws dig a little deeper, barely grazing the skin. You physically bit your lip. The tension, the strain, it was excruciating.
‘Sorry, I- I’m a little, stressed right now.’
You waited for him to say anything else, but nothing came. He moved to continue gently pressing instead.
As you lay your head back you felt him silently retract his claws, clearly trying to cover his mistake, yet as time continued in that same tense silence you started to feel them slipping back out. It seemed involuntary. You didn’t want to embarrass him by mentioning it, but god it was making it much harder to focus.
In the dim light all you could see clearly was him. His softly glowing eyes, his slow breathing, the velvety sound of his skin on your skin. His hand pressed a little further, those clawed hands brushing the tiny hairs on your upper thigh. You couldn’t help yourself from focusing on those minute details.
You could have sworn you heard his breath coming a little faster, a little heavier than before. When he bent you could feel it brushing your skin; you could tell he was breathing from his mouth now. His hand pressed a little harder into the fat on your thigh. You bit your tongue until it almost bled. Please, you begged internally, let this be over or give me some reprieve.
Thankfully you did not suffer much longer, as he at last removed his hands from your thighs.
You released a slow sigh of relief from your nose. Okay, maybe it was over now. You didn’t have to embarrass yourself; you could just get up and leave. You still couldn’t move your legs, but surely, they’d come back soon.
You closed your eyes for just a second in the ensuing calm, only to be jolted back to your senses as his claws hit your belly.
You physically squeaked as his palm sank into your lower stomach, right above the line of your panties.
Your eyes met.
His were narrowed, curious, while yours were wide and surprised. You both breathed in the ensuing silence. Was he looking for something again? He was continuing to scan your face as you stared in shock. You noticed, and felt, that he had not removed his hand.
Without saying a word he pressed again, claws now fully extended.
You felt them press in deep, sinking into the fragile flesh beneath the thin fabric, his palm tilted slightly so that it pushed down toward your groin. Unable to control yourself any longer you let a whimpered moan escape your lips, only barely muffled as you pursed them together. Your face couldn’t possibly be redder.
His eyes widened immediately.
Straightaway you struggled to try and sit up. You knew it was hopeless, you knew your body was still immobile, but you were desperate to move. You couldn’t stand being faced with his disgust right now, a disgust you knew was coming. There was no way he hadn’t heard you.
‘I-I’m so sorry sir, please, I can take care of the venom myself-'
Your rambled apology slowed to nothing, as did your struggle.
Miguel had moved even closer.
You stared up with wide and flustered eyes as he moved his hands to rest on either side of your hips. He was definitely breathing through the mouth, you realized, his lips parted to give the smallest glimpse of his teeth. He didn’t look disgusted. Quite the opposite in fact.
‘Forgive me-' he said, his voice husky. He leaned in close and your heart hammered in response. ‘I’ve been- under a lot of pressure.’
You gave an awkward nod in response. ‘Ah, it's- fine, I understand.’ Was he apologizing? He’d already apologized, and people didn’t usually look hungry when just saying sorry. You felt your gut knot again.
‘I feel- ashamed, to ask anything of you after my mistake, but-' there was a pause as he spoke, as if he was struggling to get the words out. ‘Would you, be willing to help relieve some of that?’
You could feel your heart pounding in your ears now. It sounded like the sea, heavy and dull. You thought you might faint. Was this happening? Was this really happening?
He did not push, did not touch you any further. You could feel his fully extended claws gripping the sofa on either side of your body, but he seemed to be trying his best to seem restrained. He was waiting for you.
‘A-Are you sure?’ you stammered.
He ran his tongue over his teeth, flashing for a moment those fangs that’d sunk into your flesh not so long ago. He heard clearly your whimper of anticipation. ‘I’m sure, I want to know you are sure’ he replied. His usually cold voice was softening now.
You swallowed hard. ‘I- yes, I’m sure, I do, I want to help’ you blurted.
There was a deeply pleasurable tightness in your belly, one you would have done anything to satiate.
His claws gripped tighter. You could feel the strain in the sofa as he did so, as those hooked weapons ripped through the soft covers. The little fabric tears filled your ears, reminding you of who and what this was.
‘Can you move yet?’ His voice was barely a whisper. You shook your head; your eyes never left his.
‘Don’t you worry’ he replied, finally wrenching his hands from the cushions. You watched as he leered above you, pushing one hand firmly into the armrest above your head.
‘I hope this makes up for what I did.’
His breath hit your face, his eyes barely an inch from yours, and at last you audibly panted. A twinge of pleasure flashed over those cold red eyes.
Before you could speak again his lips were on your neck, soft at first but quickly growing rough. You gasped a moan. His body was immeasurably powerful as it bore down on your own, even from a small distance you knew he could crush you in an instant. For some reason, it only spurred your arousal.
His lips moved from your jaw to your collar in careful rhythmic movements. You felt his tongue on the fresh puncture marks where he’d bitten you before, sending violent shivers through your upper body.
‘Good, good.’
He was whispering between breaths as his claws squeezed the space beside your head. You felt his teeth brush your neck right before pressing another rough kiss to the tender flesh. Your spine arched in response.
‘That’s it.’
He moved his hand to shift your shirt. He pulled it up to carefully squeeze your breasts from beneath your bra, retracting his claws so that he didn’t scrape the sensitive skin.
‘Ah-'
Multiple pleasurable noises erupted from your mouth as he pushed your clothes aside. You felt the cold air on your bare chest as he squeezed your breasts a little tighter. Between the cold and the heat, the chill air and the hot breath on your neck, you quivered with shameless abandon.
‘Just a little-'
You watched as he moved from your neck to your breast, carefully running his tongue over your nipple. Another shaky moan escaped you.
‘I don’t want to bite you again’ he whispered. He was holding back, tracing your hardened nipple with just the tip of his tongue. Still, he couldn’t help but indulge a little. He pushed your bare breast up to his lips and sucked on it once, relishing in the noises you made, before forcing himself off.
‘Fuck, I wish I could do more’ he groaned. You wished the same.
Instead, he turned back to groping as much of your body as he could. His hands squeezed and pet every inch that he craved, from your bare breasts to your waist to your hips to your thighs again. He kissed everywhere he could.
Always, though, his eyes turned to your face, checking for your nod to continue. You could see clearly through the suit at this point that he was fully erect.
‘Can you move your hands?’ he asked, his mouth moving back up from your thighs to your ear. He seemed to relish the little tremble you gave as his breath stirred those sensitive nerves.
‘I-I think, a little.’
You tried to demonstrate by raising your hand, but you could only barely lift it a few inches before it collapsed back down.
‘Don’t worry, there’s something else you can do’ he muttered in response. You glanced at him; what did he mean?
You realized pretty quickly what he meant, even if he didn’t speak. He leant back onto his knees and grappled with his suit.
‘Can I use your mouth?’ he asked in that same husky voice.
You instinctively nodded; you didn’t even try to hide your desperation.
‘Good girl’ he praised. It was a husky purr of a voice that made you weak.
You liked how soft he was in spite of his strength. He was politely stoic, clearly holding himself back. Still, he wasn’t so stoic as to hold back entirely. He pressed and phased away part of his suit near the crotch, allowing his fully erect phallus to slip out with the rest of the suit still intact. You squeaked at the sight.
He shuffled upward and leaned until his hips were in front of your face. With one hand on the armrest and one cupping your head, he shifted himself down to your mouth. You were panting on his member as his claws brushed your scalp. Even from just this, you could feel the throbbing as blood rushed to your clit.
‘You ready?’ he murmured. You felt in his trembling claws how much he was holding back.
‘Y-Yes, yes, I’m ready’ you repeated.
With a satisfied groan he gently thrust the tip against your lips. You eagerly let them part.
You used your tongue to lap at his member as it came down into your mouth, ensuring it was wet before letting it slip a little deeper. He was warm, still sweaty from the fight he'd escaped. He was gruff, rugged. He was perfect.
You felt the weight of his cock on your tongue, warm and soft against your lips. He throbbed in your mouth once; you thought you would cum just from that.
It was easy for you to let the rest slip in. His eyes were locked on yours as he pushed between your lips, both to check you were safe and to relish in the view. You saw with great pride how his eyes rolled, the red light flickering with each shuddered groan. You took each inch of his shaft with your tongue brushing the base, right up to where his member brushed your throat.
‘Nena buena, justo así’ he hissed to himself, his claws tightening slightly. You heard him press his tongue to his teeth as he bit down, his eyes rolling. ‘Coño, eso está bien. Argh-'
You started to suck on him carefully, only able to roughly arch your neck for the motion. You moved your lips from the tip to the furthest part of the shaft you could reach, right up until it was stretching your throat, then carefully drew back as his legs shook.
Back and forth, in and out. You tightened your lips then let them fall open, lapping at his cock until saliva ran down your lips to your chin.
Unfortunately, you could only do so much on your own. Soon your neck started to shake from the strain as you were still only in control of a handful of muscles. Thankfully he seemed to notice this quickly.
‘Ajá-- f-fuck, that’s it’ Miguel said softly. You felt his claws gently tap your skull, and with a muffled grunt you brought your mouth to a stop.
‘I’ll do it, don’t worry.’
As promised Miguel cradled your head in his hand and began to move his hips instead. He grunted as his cock pushed further. His tip was down your throat now, and you were thanking every higher power that your gag reflex seemed pretty docile. He thrust a couple times as he cursed beneath his breath.
‘F-Fuck-'
He panted out loud as he started to fuck your mouth, forcing himself not to push deeper into your throat. He was already far in, enough so that as he started to pick up speed he could hear you let out a gargled choke in response.
He throbbed again and you shamelessly whimpered.
He shifted his entire body until he was angled perfectly in your mouth. You felt the armrest beside your head snap at the force of his hand. You whimpered again, just slightly, but it was enough to make him pull back a little.
‘Ah, okay, okay.'
Finally he pulled out, letting you gasp for air as he leaned back onto his knees. ‘I-I don’t wanna finish in your mouth’ he hissed.
His member was dripping your own saliva onto your chest as he panted, his head bent back toward the ceiling. You swallowed hard, painfully aware that you couldn’t wipe your mouth. You were a mess. A thin trail of saliva still existed between his shaft and your lips, and you could feel his precum slipping down your chin.
He seemed to be taking a moment to collect himself, before quietly cursing under his breath and throwing his head forward to face you. His eyes were hungry, you noticed. Practically ravenous.
‘Good girl’ he praised with his hand on your head, scratching gently at the base of your skull. You felt your spine arch at the feeling.
‘Alright, alright-' as his breath stabilized, he moved his hand from your head, gently helping to brush your mouth clean as he leaned in closer. ‘Please, nena, can I finish in you?’
He was clearly trying his best to sound gentle, but his cold voice made everything sound like an order. The slight bark at the end of each word made you shudder. ‘You don’t have to’ he added in a murmur, clearly aware of this himself.
You wore your feelings on your sleeve. In truth, just the offer made you weak. Your thighs instinctively tensed just at the words, the idea, it made your toes flex and curl. You wanted it, you wanted him desperately, even just once.
‘No, no it's okay, I-I want it’ you stuttered.
‘You sure?’ he repeated, just as before. You nodded as you bit your lip. ‘I’m sure, I’m sure sir.’
That soft smile on his face. He seemed almost exasperated. ‘Miguel, sweetheart, you don’t need to call me sir.’
You flushed a whole different way as he spoke.
'I’m sure, Miguel’ you repeated. That seemed good enough for him.
With absolute ease he moved down the sofa to your lower torso, hands gently grasping your thighs. He tested quickly if you’d regained movement; you had not. It didn’t seem to concern him though. He moved his hands to remove your panties, eyes darting up every so often to check you were okay. You, however, were rather distracted. With his hands on your skin and his taste in your mouth, you were deliriously excited.
He tried to be careful as he shifted your panties down but his own excitement was palpable. As he pulled they tore clean, hanging limp in his clawed hand. He grunted, both aroused and annoyed, before throwing them to the side. With your lower body now bare before him he wasted no time.
‘That’s it’ he repeated gently, lifting your legs up to place over his shoulders. He tried to hold them there but without your muscular control they quickly slipped off.
‘Ah, sorry’ you interjected awkwardly. He shook his head.
‘What did I tell you? No apologizing, it was my fault.’
Instead, he abruptly fired his neon red webbing, angling it from the ceiling to your legs to carefully contort them up and apart. You let out an involuntary squeak as you lifted for him.
‘That's it, good’ he said with a satisfied grunt. You were trembling, wet and hot and throbbing in every inch of your body.
Something about this state was so utterly gratifying to you. Immobile, hung up like prey in a spider's web, as you waited for that sweet climax.
You watched as Miguel braced one hand on your bent knee, shifting the other hand down to your sex. For a moment you felt a brief panic, realizing that his clawed hand was approaching your entrance.
‘M-Miguel-'
You blurted his name right as he carefully retracted his claws, leaving nothing but his fingers. You heaved a slow sigh of relief.
‘I won’t hurt you’ he breathed, before phasing away the gloved part of his suit. ‘I just want to feel you.’
His voice had somehow gotten lower, huskier, as he leant his hand down and pressed it to your clit. ‘Ah-' you whimpered at the touch, unable to move anything but your hands as they instinctively gripped the sofa. You saw his cock twitch at your response.
He moved his finger with deliberate slowness over the delicate folds, relishing in how wet you already were, before carefully slipping one finger inside your cunt. You cursed immediately, a breathy expletive that was drowned out by a mixture of moans and gasps.
He pushed in deep, merciless from the start, before drawing out entirely.
‘Estás mojadita, ah- Dios mío.'
He pushed in again and drew out a little faster, this time leaving the tip of his finger to gently massage the upper wall of your pussy before slipping back in as far as he could.
‘Fuck-!’ you couldn’t help yourself from shouting. He didn’t seem to mind at all.
He repeated this motion a couple of times, moving between stimulating thrusts and gentle pulses against either the outside folds of your pussy or the little ribbed spot on your insides.
His eyes were getting wider as he pushed at you repeatedly; a couple of times he broke and let himself grind his shaft against your clit, clearly struggling to hold himself back.
You were resoundingly wet and unbelievably sensitive, and he seemed to savor the sound your body made as he penetrated it.
He waited until you were practically shaking to fully withdraw his fingers from your sex. He checked his hand as he gripped your body; dripping wet. You were sufficiently prepared.
‘Perfect’ he groaned, his hand squeezing your thigh again. He lifted your limp body to take one long, heavy lick of your clit, deliberately covering your entire labia with one smooth motion, but even as you cried and begged he left it there.
‘I don’t want to get carried away, I don’t want to bite you again’ he whispered. He soothed your aching desperation with his fingers on your clit, rubbing out the frustration your limp body could not address itself.
‘There you go. Now, come here.’
He gripped your thighs first, angling your slightly raised hips. He held himself there just to dig into the soft fat, the smooth muscle, relishing in the sight of you now panting and flushed. His brain had been overtaken with nothing but lust in this state.
At last, he could not overthink. He had drowned every one of his senses in you; your taste in his mouth, the touch of your skin, the sound of your moans, the smell of sweat and the sight of your body. He was free here, on the brink of consummation, single mindedly obsessed with this one primal urge.
‘You ready?’
You nodded again, vigorously, as his torso came down with his hands on your own. He gripped your wrists and pushed them into the sofa, eyes scanning your face for approval. The sultry, hazy smile on your face was enough to make him throb.
‘Justo así, nena, good girl, gently now-'
You felt him slip the very tip of his cock inside you. You let out a gasp.
He pushed into you slowly, all the while fighting his body's desire to go harder. He hadn't fucked anyone in years, and his body was utterly desperate to relieve all that pent up desire, but he knew he was brimming with inhuman strength. He didn’t know what damage he could cause if he was rough.
So he kept it careful, slipping into the warm wet walls of your cunt with absolute care. God, it was so tight, so warm. That single taste had pushed him right over the edge. He bit his lip until it bled to stop himself from pounding you into the sofa.
For you it was a strange feel, between the clear and vibrant sensation of his penetration and the strangeness of having no control over your body. You could feel every inch of his cock, every inch of his body. The bite of his bare skin on yours was like sparks, but you couldn’t move at all. He had absolute control here, and you loved it.
Miguel started thrusting the moment he settled his full length inside you. It was gentle thrusts at first, just short pumps using half his shaft to let your body adjust. You felt him stretch your pussy with relative ease, and the combined wetness made it easy to enter.
‘Ah- f-fuck that's good, mm-’ he hissed. It didn’t take long for him to use his full shaft. He started pushing in fully before drawing all the way out, each pulse still gentle, before moving between full hard thrusts and short frequent grinds right up against the wall of your sex. You took it all in brainless ecstasy.
While he tried to be careful, his need was too great. You could feel his claws around your wrists gently squeezing the bone, could feel his hips smacking into your own. You felt your hip bones go numb. You didn’t care.
Those ripples of pleasure soothed your body until your mind melted. You allowed your eyes to roll in your head as he probed your insides with persistently faster insertions. You could faintly see his stomach rippling as he angled for that perfect slip.
'Mmm, good girl, such a good girl, ah-'
You were panting in unison, his grunts and breathy curses matching your shaky moans. With each push, each minute, his breath got faster. Your moans got louder.
'Fuck- fuck, a-ah- M-Miguel-'
Your back was being bent as he vied to lean in closer; you were both spiraling, merging as if no amount of closeness could ever suffice.
With nothing but lust to drive his brain, Miguel began to lose his grip. He started getting progressively rougher. He manipulated the neon webs he’d slung to contort your limp body, drawing you up further and further and further until your body was hogtied. Over and over, thrust after thrust, you were fucked until you were suspended entirely in the air by nought but his strings.
'Come here, that's it- así así, fuck- I mean, MM- like that, just like that nena, that's it-'
He moved up onto his knees, his hands now on your hips, and fucked you raw.
Through hazy eyes he pulled you to him like an animal. He was thrusting to the navel, as deep as he could muster, with his claws squeezing your flesh. His eyes blurred; he was a man possessed with an all-consuming fever.
You were spinning in the vertigo of his touch, his thrusts, his hands and tongue and breath. The world was bending with every guttural scream that escaped your lips. You were free-floating in his grip. You saw his face swim into your vision; he bared his teeth and you groaned.
Eventually he couldn't help it and switched your position to doggy, using the webs to flip you around until you were facing the floor. With one hand on your neck and the other on your hip, he thrust into your bound, suspended body with the same consistent rhythmic vigor. The room was filled with the those orgasmic sounds, the echo of his hips as they smacked into yours. It sounded wet. It sounded hot, and hard, and close.
'Mm, mm- you like that nena, huh?'
'M-Mhm, f-fuck I love it' you rasped. You felt him bristle; he didn't seem used to getting his ego stroked, but he clearly loved it too.
With a need to brace himself he pulled the webs until your chest slammed back into the sofa, his hips coming down hard against your own. He arched your back until you thought it would break, slipping right up into your guts with each hard, meditated thrust.
Here it was unbearable. That slow, gradual peaking of pleasure that’d been building in your gut threatened to spill over all at once, drawing a shuddered groan from your lips.
'Fuck- please-’ you tried to speak but each word was knocked aside by another moan. He refused to slow down. You felt his head nestle into your neck, his tongue on your jaw. You wanted to scream. ‘Please- f-fuck please I want to cum please-'
Your words managed to just about pull him back from that sensual madness. You could tell in the way he panted, like a man who’d just woken from a dream.
‘Anything’ he hissed. You felt his thrusts slow just a little; he seemed to be pulling back deliberately, searching for something. ‘Anything for you.’
Then it hit. His member perfectly angled into that ribbed spot on the walls of your sex, earning him an almost instantaneous groan. You felt him smile against your shoulder. With the web suspending your body he moved his hand from your neck to your lower belly.
He teased you there, circling your navel, before finally slipping his finger down to your clit.
‘F-Fuck-'
Your curses became nonsensical as he started to work you, with his member perfectly angled to rib your internal g-spot while carefully pressing the flat spot of his claw to your clit.
You had no control over your legs but you could feel them starting to shake, your muscles involuntarily tensing with each perfectly timed circle on your wet pussy. You were dripping onto the sofa at this point.
You were surprised how quickly it worked. Between the foreplay and the rigorous fucking, you had no chance of holding out much longer. All too soon that build-up peaked.
‘F-FUCK-‘ your words were choked by violent ripples of gratifying pleasure as your body shuddered in his grip. You shook, spasmed, let your eyes roll and your toes curl. Perhaps the venom really was wearing off. Not that you cared, that is. Not anymore. You felt the tensing, as did he, as your walls gripped and strained around his shaft. ‘Fuck, fuck, Miguel-’
You felt your climax draining whatever little energy you had left as it pulsed to an end.
'That’s it, well done’ he whispered into your shoulder, soft praises that betrayed his own desperate need to continue. You whimpered a moan in response.
As you shuddered in the final thralls of your orgasm he opted to grab ahold of your waist, beginning to pick back up the momentum he’d lost. Immediately you felt the air knocked from your lungs.
His cock was probing every inch of your insides, still so unbearably sensitive after climaxing. That didn’t matter to him though, not right now. He was desperate for his own climax. He’d edged long enough. He held you to him as he fucked to completion.
Then he throbbed, and he thrust, and he came inside you with a guttural groan.
And he bit you again.
With nearly glazed-over eyes he instinctually sank his teeth back into your shoulder, right as his cock pulsed those first two loads into your insides. You were utterly torn.
The pleasure fed into the pain, the pain fed into the pleasure, back and forth until your vision was spotty. Each final thrust drove his teeth deeper, his claws gripping your ribs. Even a cm tighter and he’d have cracked them.
‘Mmm-'
His final moans were muffled by your skin as he gripped you in his fangs. He was savoring your quivering, the little pulses of your walls as they tightened around him. ‘Mm.’
For a sweet, final minute that misty haze covered any immediate panic. You were too exhausted to care this time. Every inch of your body was on fire in a way that ached deliciously. The heat of his breath, the heat of his body with the heat of the venom, the soft warmth of his ejaculate filling you and dripping from your inner thigh to the cushions. Truly you didn’t care if you died at that moment.
It was inevitable, however, that those sweet pleasures would fade, and without them reality began to creep back in. Miguel released his teeth in horror as he realized what he’d done.
‘Shit- Shit, I’m sorry, nena, can you speak?’
A low moan escaped your lips, but nothing else followed it.
With absolute care he drew back the webs, gripping your limp body as it settled on the cushions. Your head was lulling, your arms and legs unresponsive. It was very clear that his venom had filled you again.
‘Ah, I’m sorry, fuck- You’ll be okay, same as before, just- wait for it to pass’ Miguel soothed, struggling between re-doing his suit and checking your face. You would have laughed if you weren’t entirely immobile again.
‘I’ll stay here. I’m so sorry’ he said gently, awkwardly shuffling to sit beside you. You could see his legs were also equally exhausted; you took a primal sort of pride from that.
As you both lay in silence, you just about managed to inch your pinky finger on the fabric. He jumped in his skin as you brushed his hand, gently rubbing over his knuckle. Miguel offered a genuine laugh at your gesture. ‘Hey, down, rest. You’re all good’ he chuckled. He took a moment then just to rearrange your clothes properly.
‘There, fuck- you’re all good, I uh- I can’t get your underwear back but, I swear I’ll buy you new ones. You just rest now.’
You could feel your body drifting back to sleep in this state. You were utterly exhausted, having been stretched and pulled and fucked beyond any normal person's limits, and between the sweet throbbing remnants of your escapade and the numbness in your limbs, it was impossible to stay lucid.
You let yourself drift into sleep with Miguel sitting staunchly at your side, his eyes glancing back and forth from the door to your body. Right before the darkness took you, you could have sworn you saw him smile again.
‘Thanks, by the way’ he whispered, his words echoing as your eyelids fluttered. ‘You were a great stress reliever.’