#Joint degeneration

[severecheesecakeobservation]

Do you want to learn an easy way to maintain and improve the health of your joints? Click here - https://sites.google.com/view/biodynamixforyou/%D0%B3%D0%BB%D0%B0%D0%B2%D0%BD%D0%B0%D1%8F-%D1%81%D1%82%D1%80%D0%B0%D0%BD%D0%B8%D1%86%D0%B0

[wellhealthhub]

Embarking on a Deeper Exploration of Shoulder Bone Spurs

Greetings, curious minds, and welcome to a journey through the intricate realm of shoulder bone spurs. In this revitalized rendition, we will embark on an in-depth expedition into the enigmatic world of these bony growths. We shall unravel their origins, dissect the symphony of symptoms they present, illuminate the diagnostic procedures that unveil their presence, and traverse the spectrum of…

[moonbandit420]

my red flag is every fucking Saturday I don't eat breakfast, go to the gym, then a 2 hour practice, then yoga, and then I come home and drink a glass of wine on an empty stomach, which results in me listening to old Kanye West and making pasta at 4pm. someone fix me.

[scooplery]

i have been so sick since like. july. it's driving me insane like i am so so so fucking fatigued and the only thing that helps is exercise but i am also in too much pain to move a lot of the time. i feel like if i make one wrong move, my hip joints are going to fail. i have such bad pain in my whole hip/lower back area.. i am scared that something is really wrong :'(

[nurlet]

Becoming less ambulatory... -_-

[daddysmusicblog]

Neurosurgeon Update:

The CT scans they did were too cloudy to determine what was really going on, so now I'm going in for MRI with contrast. I'm just waiting on radiology to schedule. Thank you all for the good vibes and support.

[pathoscleaved]

this is my tentative maybe going off of hiatus post.

i will attempt to reach out to others: i am just so gosh darn tired, & have gotten more health issues diagnosed. therefore, for interactions going forward, i will focus less on plotting and more on memes. if you would like to plot, i will be as receptive as i can be, but may be slower to respond ooc.

[wellhealthhub]

Shoulder Bone Spurs: Understanding Causes, Symptoms, and Treatment

Embark on an illuminating voyage through the realm of shoulder bone spurs. Delve into the origins, manifestations, and diverse treatment avenues for a life unburdened by this condition. Introduction Greetings, intrepid readers, as we embark on an insightful odyssey into the intricate world of shoulder bone spurs. Brace yourself for an expedition that will delve into the very heart of this…

[houseplantsonmars]

My knees hurt in the way that most do when you sit, kneeling for too long. My bones creak and groan. Still still still I follow you through the mall, the bookstore because I love the way you ramble when you talk about things you think are funny. I have been standing and walking for hours and it is nothing to me because I can’t imagine not wanting to be with you in the next moment, to hear what you have to say

Thank you for giving that back to me

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Dealer Ellie blurb. CONTAINS SMUT BELOW

Dealer Ellie who sits in a corner at the college parties with a baggy of weed tucked away in her pocket. She was never a party person, but being a broke college student forces you into certain businesses. Her eyes were observant, monitoring every person who entered the room until her eyes fell upon you. Never was Ellie some huge fan of hook-ups or degenerate college activities. However, she was already in a mood tonight and needed some well deserved distractions. And the way your hips swayed like you were actually having a good time, unlike her, as you walked only encouraged her mood. Ellie tried to be patient, selling to people and doing her job. However, as soon as you made your way over to her with a cute little smile plastered on your face, she couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t long before she had you back in her dorm laid out naked on her bed. You were nervous as hell. Ellie was mainly quiet, as if this was some casual activity to do and not sex. However, you could also tell she didn’t do this often. However, any lack of enthusiasm was soon replaced with moans that vibrated through your pussy, her hands gripping onto your thighs desperately as she sank her face more and more against your aching cunt. Her tongue lapped at your clit like it was some precious gem, her nose greedy as it inhaled your arousal. You were a whining mess, your legs shaky as your orgasm approached. You were a bit embarrassed to not last very long, but you hadn’t been touched in a while and you were currently in Ellie’s dorm of all the people’s beds you could’ve been fucked in. It wasn’t like she was super experienced or skilled either. Girl was just so obsessed with eating pussy that she was moaning like she was the one getting fucked, and that only spurred you on. It didn’t take long before you were spilling essence all into her welcoming mouth, the auburn-haired girl giving you a sheepish smile after all is said and done. She knew this isn’t something serious, far from commitment, but she knows to take care of a girl. She cleans you up and kisses all over your trembling lips. And who knows, maybe she’ll send you home with a free joint or two.

[why-rock-look-tasty-if-no-eat]

I felt that MRI results taking forever in my bones. A little to literally because I never got to get one 🥲

Sponsored by my MRI results taking forever to get back, you ever think about who's reading the X-rays and MRI's and such for the bat family?

I don't know what it is in canon, but in so many fics Bruce is rich enough to have MRI machines and such in the cave, which I'm sure he is, but who's reading it?

I'm sure Alfred or Leslie could bs their way through an X-ray, but an MRI? A CT scan? No way.

Look I've seen a lot of scans in my day. I've done my best to read them with the power of a god complex and Google. I refuse to believe anyone without an 8 year degree in radiology can read them.

And look, I know their all geniuses. This ain't about genius. It's about experience. That none of them have.

Which leaves us with two options. Bruce is sending them out to some poor private radiology company who's just wondering who TF is paying them billions to tell them just how screwed up their bodies frequently are.

Or, Bruce is stubbornly refusing to believe this, and their all walking around with even more untreated injuries then they think.

This also raises questions about Clark. Sure, he has X-ray vision, but that don't mean crap if you can't understand what your looking at. Is he secretly a doctor, or bsing everyone?

[lostbo0]

Meant to be Yours…

Summary:

In attempts to catch a crazed stalker intent on having you all to himself, the team sends you and Spencer into the field posing as a loving couple in hopes to draw out the unsub, and perhaps residual feelings as well…

Warnings:

Drinking, canon-typical violence, some minor cursing

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Minor angst with happy ending

~~~

“This unsub presents with OCD-like tendencies; when things don’t align with his idea of how they should be, he feels an overwhelming need to fix it.”

“And as we’ve seen…” Morgan paused to survey the room, “will even resort to violent means to do so.” You fiddled with your fingernail polish in the conference room as the rest of the team ran-down the details of the case, each clack of the clock sending your imagination further spiraling.

“This unsub has taken a particular interest in (y/n) and Spencer’s…” Rossi glanced at you both, eyes darting between you and Spencer in the mere split second that he stalled, “perceived relationship.”

“Previous letters that he has sent to the BAU state that it is ‘unnatural’ and ‘wrongs must be righted’”. You shifted in your seat, hoping that the movement didn’t reflect concern on your end. You didn’t want to send the impression that you could ever be flustered by such a social degenerate with nothing better to do than stalk and nefariously matchmake strangers in the name of order. You didn’t want anyone to know that you were even slightly nervous. But of course you were nervous. There were death threats on your door, a faulty pipe bomb in your bathtub, notes to the BAU that begged the question what psycho was so concerned about your relationship status as he would go so far as to murder other men as a way to relieve the hatred he felt for Spencer Reid supposedly “taking his place”? You had no other choice but to be nervous.

“Additionally.” JJ began, “ Our unsub has found particular interest in (y/n), whom he believes to be soulmates with and will go to extreme lengths to feel connected to.” She clicked at the remote, panning the screen through crime scene photos from earlier, men killed and dumped out in the open, supposedly so you could find them. You shuddered and turned from the images and Spencer took the time to ghost his fingertips over your knuckles, a gentle and common way he has learned to calm you down. You looked at him, yet filled with the impression of observers, you tore your gaze from his equally fixated eyes. Something about the moment felt so intimate, despite seeming so insignificant. He only touched your knuckles, rubbing his middle finger over your index joint, occasionally drifting down your tendon, yet it felt so exposing and wrong you had to pull your hand away. You shot him a quick smile, hoping to mend the disappointment.

"He has yet to appear in plain sight, however,” Morgan shifted his weight, “We are hoping that our plan will draw him out.” He turned his gaze to Hotch, as if to say ‘continue’.

“(y/n) will go out into the field accompanied by Reid.” Your heart leapt when he said it. “They will go to the club that our unsub has been said to frequent, disguised as a couple.” That really made your heart leap. It felt so silly, being more nervous about interacting with your best friend than going into the field with a crazy obsessed murderer, yet the words ‘Ried’ and ‘couple’ in the same sentence made you tense up quite a bit. “We are hoping that this will set him off just enough to make an appearance, giving us the chance to take him into custody.”

For the first time since you sat down at the table, you turned your body to look at Spencer. He was messing with his hands at the table, head down, fully engrossed in thought. You wondered what he was thinking about. You always did. You wondered if you made him feel the same way he made you feel, but you dispelled the thought as Hotch dismissed the team to began preparing for your sting operation.

~~~

The club was dark. You wondered how the unsub would even see you here, however, Rossi assured you that he would come and he would see you on a date with Spencer. Date. You sort of hoped it was real, and not a ploy to catch a killer, but you would take what you could get. You and Spencer were sat at the bar in the middle of the room, practically lit by a spotlight. It was almost too obvious. Spencer turned, knees hitting the counter due to his height.

“Are you nervous?” He internally cursed himself for the question. Of course you were nervous. A serial killer was after you. He just wanted to try and make you feel better in any way he could. You read his concern like a book.

“A little bit, I think so, I’ve never done this before.”

“Have a killer after you?”

“Be on a date.” The admission was slightly embarrassing, even in front of your best friend, but you were 22 and had never been on a date before. Maybe you should have been more adventurous in high school.

“Wait, how?!” Spencer raised his voice in genuine shock.

“What do you mean? No one wanted to date the weird kid in high school.”

“Yeah but, you’re so pretty!” He froze, praying you didn’t see the heat rise in his cheeks. You did.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No its ok! It just caught me off guard that’s all.”

“Say it again,” A muffled voice came across your ear pieces, you picked out that it was Rossi’s. You completely forgot that you were being listened to.

“What?” Spencer quietly responded.

“We have eyes on our unsub. He’s looking at you. We need him to hear you guys, so turn it up a notch.” You looked up at each other simultaneously.

“Got it thank you Rossi.” You touched your ear piece, passing it off as pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I-I mean you are really pretty, I just,” Spencer took this time to take a big sip of his drink at the bar table. You did the same. “It kind of surprised me that’s all.” He swallowed hard and you put your hand to his forearm, exposed by his rolled up sleeves.

“It’s ok, I’m gonna make it easy for you, hm?” You lowered your voice and looked up at him giving him a slight nod. He nodded in response, happy for you to relieve the pressure from him. You proceeded to unbutton your top an extra button, fluffing up your hair as you shrunk the gap between you two.

“W-what are you doing.” He whispered, his voice turning up in the end.

“Making it easy for you!” You looked up at him, doe eyes peering through your lashes as you rubbed his arm, a habit you had adopted years before, yet it never felt so intimate until now. Spencer took the hint as well, smiling gingerly, ghosting a hand atop your exposed waist, almost as if he were afraid of breaking you. He had also done this many times before, however you both felt something not so platonic rising within you.

“I wasn’t lying, when I said you were pretty,” His large hand cupped your waist, fingertips innocently prodding at your waistband. Your hand snaked up to his bicep, feeling your heart rate rise in your pulse. “I meant it.”

“Spence, I-“

“I did!” His eyes widened, his tell that said ‘I mean it’. “I see you every day at work and I think that you’ve just come from some beautiful night out with some guy way cooler than me.” Spencer grabbed a piece of your hair between his free hand, observing it with his fingertips. Following his lead, you pushed a stray piece of hair away from his dark eyes, feeling his gaze deepen.

“I can promise you Doctor, no man has ever taken me out for a ‘beautiful night’”. You could swear you saw relief in his eyes.

“It’s so weird to me. Your soft hair, your contagious laugh, the way that you are so considerate, the way that I can’t take my eyes off of you,” He surveyed your face. “How could someone not see how beautiful you are?” It was your turn to go slack-jawed, unable to pull your eyes off of the words leaving his lips.

“Spence, I,” You pulled your hand to his cheek. “I think you’re pretty too.” This was quiet. The unsub couldn’t hear your voice this low. This was for only Spencer to hear. Quickly and almost against your judgement, your bodies pulled together. It was painfully and at the same time beautifully slow; A speed that said ‘I know what I’m doing and I know what I want’. Your lips barely brushed against each other. Your eyes closed and the world was dark yet suddenly so full of light. He didn’t want to break you, or taint the beautiful innocence he felt on your skin, he thought, you were too good for it. Yet his body pulled him closer into you, lips moving in untroubled unison, a way that spoke volumes in the silence between you. You grabbed his face and pulled him closer, shutting out the world, shutting out the unsub, shutting out the observant breathing in your earpiece. You felt years of unspoken feeling poured into you, as his language began to ignore your setting.

“(y/n), Reid, He’s left the club and he’s angry, you need to pursue him.” Hotch’s voice dug into your ear as you and Spencer ripped yourselves away from each other. A look of regret was exchanged before you quickly exited the club.

~~~

It was much darker outside and your eyes tried their hardest to adjust to the sudden change in light. The dry dirt beneath you was kicked up as you and Spencer ran towards the unsub’s vehicle you were briefed on hours before. You let Spencer advance to the car as you watched the woods that sat just beyond the headlights. A good place for an unsub to hide you thought. Just as Spencer turned to give you the all clear, a swift arm wrapped around your neck and cold metal pressed against your temple.

“Drop the gun!” The unsub yelled and it stung your ears as you flinched. “I said drop the gun!”

“Ok, ok, Im putting it down ok?” You fearfully dropped your gun to the ground, feeling the reality of the situation set it. He kicked the gun away, eyes now moving to a horrified Spencer, gun poised to shoot.

“Put the gun down.” Spencer’s voice dropped into a deep, demanding tone of a person you had never seen before.

“You took her from me!” The unsub’s spit flew as he choked out more and more accusations. “I saw your little show in the club there,” his voice tensed. “I don’t take kindly to people disrespecting me like that.” Spencer cocked his gun, zeroing in on the unsub, waiting for a clear shot.

“She isn’t yours.”

“Reid, (y/n), is everything alright?” Hotch’s concern soaked through your ear piece as the unsub’s grip on your neck tightened.

“She’s mine you bastard!” The unsub shouted his foul cry.

“No she isn’t.” Spencer snapped. “What is her favorite color?”

“I’m sorry?” The unsub was clearly not keen on playing Spencer’s game, and you were equally confused and terrified.

“It’s light purple. Not plum, not eggplant. Light purple. See, you wouldn’t know that because you don’t know her like you think you do.”

“I know where she lives you dumbass! I know all I need to know!”

“Please, any low level data miner can find someone’s address, but, you don’t know that she only wears her hair up when it’s over 75 degrees outside, and, every winter, she takes out a 5 year old pink sweater from grad school, because she doesn’t like to spend money on things she doesn’t really need.” You listened to Spencer draw out information you didn’t even recognize about yourself. “She also hates black coffee, hates Splenda even more, and wears socks without lines because they feel too weird.” The unsub’s grip loosened as you felt the gun on your temple falter.

“See, you think you know about (y/n), but the truth is, she will never love you, and the only rings you're going to see are the one’s around your wrist when they put you away.” The unsub paused and, in the split second that he faltered, Spencer snapped his gaze to your own, an unspoken nod, as you kicked the unsub’s shins as hard as you could, falling to the ground as the sound of a gun went off.

Your ears were ringing. You didn’t want to open your eyes or check your body for wounds. You wanted to wait as long as you could before seeing the difference between life and death dripping from your head, and yet, you were there. You were alive.

Spencer flung his gun to the ground throwing himself at your place on the dirt parking lot, trembling hands at your ears trying steady your shaky breath. You yelped as he touched you, pulling you into his arms rocking you back and forth as if to say ‘I’m sorry’, as if to say ‘I should have been more careful’, as if to say ‘I love you’.

“I’m here, It’s over now,” he whispered into your ear, grabbing your hands in his own. “Breathe, it’s ok, breathe,” You inhaled and exhaled on his cue as the team flooded in to handle the rest.

You didn’t know how long you sat there on the ground with Spencer. All you remembered were the soft kisses he planted on your tussled hair, and the warmth his body exuded in the cold autumn air. All he could say was ‘I’m sorry’, and all you could say was ‘Thank you’.

~~~

Spencer walked you back to the ambulance. They checked you out and, seeing no signs of injury, released you to go home. Spencer never left your side. You picked at your thumbs sticking out of the huge emergency blanket the medics gave you.

“I didn’t know you noticed all of that stuff,” You cracked out a quiet sputter of words from your swollen throat. “I barely ever did.”

“I guess it’s the profiler in me,” He stopped for a second. “Or maybe the fact that I just can’t take my eyes off of you.” He looked up at your red face. You could only laugh, a small, understanding breath that broke the tension between you. “I’m serious! It’s like, when you’re in the room I can’t focus, It’s like, like-“

“Like I can’t make myself act normal when you’re around,”

“Exactly,” You didn’t need words to speak what came next. A gentle hand on your cheek pressed icy fingertips into your jaw.

Spencer, you’re freezing! Come here,” You opened up your blanked, beckoning him to sit at your side. He rested his head on your shoulder, taking your hands in his own, slowly turning to place a gentle kiss on your temple. A warm, understanding kiss that said ‘I will never let a gun touch any part of you again, no one will hurt you’. You sat for a moment before Hotch took you away to take a statement. At this time, Rossi strode over to Spencer’s seat on the back of the ambulance.

“Good job out there.” He gave Spencer a knowing glance. “Keep protecting her Reid.” Spencer nodded eagerly.

“Of course sir.”

“Im serious. She was meant to be yours.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! It’s been a fat minute since I’ve posted any writing! I hope you enjoyed it, and if not… I don’t know, that’s just not my problem.

[justpoliteconversations]

Midnight Impulses [Chain + Healer!Reader]

Keeping your abilities hidden is difficult when the object of your attention is so close.

It keeps growing. Will the trash heap never end?

Masterlist

TW: None.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

You stare up at the night sky with a pinched expression, something ominously similar to a pout pulling at your lips. The blankets are pulled up to your nose, and above the soft rim your eyes glare squinty-eyed at the man laying beside you.

In the light of the pit fire, you can see the way his shoulders and back are tense with pain and fitful sleep. The shine of his hair taunts you where it highlights the delicate curve of his ear, the soft pink of a bang an elegant curve contrasting the harsh shadows of the fire light.

His bare skin. If only you could touch his skin without waking him, even just the tips of your fingers. But he's always been cagey, especially when he's in so much pain. He'd snap awake before you could even pull your hand from your covers, and then he'd be awake and suspicious all night. Just like every night before.

Your fingers grip into the inside of your bedroll, jaw clenching, resisting the temptation to rush him while he's vulnerable and force your healing magic into his aching joints and creaking, burning bones.

It wouldn't take long. If you could get your whole hand onto his face or maybe an arm, the deed could be done in less than a minute. He'd struggle, yes, but his gauntlets are off and you could keep him pinned for a few precious seconds after he manages to escape the confines of his covers.

Just one minute of struggle, and it'll be done. Sure, he'll hate you more than ever and will most certainly never trust you again. But his arthritis and damaged body (so damaged, laden with so many old, untreated wounds it makes your heart ache) will be gone.

He'll be free of them all. The pain, the weakness, the insecurities and the memories. He'll finally be able to put all those hurts behind him and just live, free of the burdens his path forced upon him. Free to look forward to a future not overshadowed by the slow, inevitable breaking of his body.

Free of a future that sees him stripped of mobility and restful night by the time he's 30. If he even lives that long, damaged as he's been by the cruel hand of destiny.

It would be worth it. Just one moment of struggle. One final twist and ache of his bones as he fights against your hands and arms and full body grip, and then he'll be released from the bondage of everlasting degeneration. The agony of a body sacrified for the greater good.

Just one-

No. The thought is irrational and unfair to the man in question. It would also reveal your hand to the Chain, and you had no intention of putting yourself in that situation.

You'd learned your lesson. Even the kindest and most honorable of men can be brought low by the promise of life. The guarantee of no more brothers lost to the slow hand of time, and the knowledge that tomorrow will find you and all you love there to greet it.

Life is so precious. Who wouldn't be tempted to keep it forever by your side.

You envied Hyrule. For his strength and his cunning. For no shackles shall ever find his wrists, no tether will ever bind his arms and legs. No force on this plain of existence will ever break his spirit.

You are nothing like him. Not a hero. Not a fairy borne. Not a beloved brother of the many powerful men who came before him.

You are just yourself. Someone who got unlucky with their blessings.

You envied him, for your healing is nothing like his. It is slow and bone deep, poorly suited to the riggers of field wounds but inevitable in its power nonetheless.

In this world of fairies and potions and the blessing of Goddesses, the hand of death will not come in the blaze of battle. No. It will creep slow and steady into the very marrow of your bones. It will start with aches so deep no fairy light can reach them, with a cough so thin no potion can grasp it.

For many, death will not be by the sword, but by the bone deep memory of what it left behind.

If you could still the hand of fate, wouldn't you? Wouldn't they, whom fate has chosen so readily? Even if it cost just a sliver of thier humanity?

You never intended to find out if these men had it in them to pay that price. No need to tempt fate. Not with men like these, who live and die by such sacrifices.

The ear twitches in his sleep and so do your fingers, the shine of his ruffled hair like a siren's call to your eyes.

You suck in a sharp breath. The temptation flaring once more within you, pushing you forward like strong wind at your back. Calling you like the promise of cool water under the desert sun. Like the shelter of home as a thundering storm shakes the land.

It twitches again. The shine of hair.

'Fuck.'

---

"He's messing with them again." Twilight grumbled, arms crossed as he levels his most unimpressed stare at the Vet's back.

Time chuckled, stretching along the log at his back and savoring the smooth roll of muscles and bones unhindered by pain or aches. He couldn't wait to bring you home to Malon and let you work your magic. His beloved wife had even planned out their sleeping arrangements to encourage your helpful nature.

"If Legend wants to drag this out, let him be. He's the only one suffering from it." He smiled then, more of a grin than anything. "And it's cute." The older man admitted impishly, leaning fully back against the log he'd been stretching over in a boneless sprawl.

Twilight wanted to say something back, but honestly couldn't deny any of it. Especially not when Legend rolled over and let his hand fall just inches from your bedroll. And your eyes widened and then narrowed, your mouth twisting into an obvious pout. How you whipped your back to him with a growl, hiding your face in the covers. Only to peek over your shoulder moments later to glare at the motionless hand with a single, leering eye.

Not when Warriors was hiding his face in Wind's sea-salt hair, trying to cover his amused grin and single cracked eye. Not with Wind's shoulders shaking with mirth, just barely hidden beneath Warrior's greater size.

Not with Hyrule smothering his laughter with both hands, back turned purposely to you so you wouldn't see. Not with Sky out like a light, breathing free and soft and unrestrained for the first time since they'd been forced onto this quest.

And not when Time looks so relaxed, spine arched freely like a man who'd not known the burden of the world pressing down on his shoulders. The effortless roll of his muscles a stark contrast to the painful twists of naught a week before.

"Fine." He eventually conceded, narrowing his eyes. "But if this keeps up for more than a week, game's over. They've not slept well in the last 3 days."

Time nodded, eye closing as he began to drift into a light, mediative doze. "Of course. We wouldn't want our shyest member to lose too much sleep over our brother's aches, now would we."

The heavily ringed finger twitched when you rolled back over to face Legend's back and began hesitantly reaching for it. You squawked at the unexpected movement and jerked back, hands flying to your mouth when you realized what you'd done.

Legend opened his eyes then, feigning sleepiness as he snapped. "What are you looking at, hah?"

You glared back. "Nothing!" Before turning your back to him once more and crossing your arms with an even deeper pout. Hunkering down in your covers.

Vet huffed, though an amused grin stole across his face the moment you looked away. "Weirdo." He snapped in a falsly waspish tone, his grin growing when you growled lowly under you breath.

Twilight looked at Time again. Frowning.

"Tomorrow. I'll talk to him." Time hummed in assurance, though he didn't bother to open his eye.

Twilight sighed again, and Time chuckled.

Near the fire, the shifting of covers, the reveal of a bare neck and another quiet gasp. The smothered giggles of Hyrule laying closest to them. The whisper of Warrior's trying to keep Wind from blowing their cover. Four returning from his watch, multi-colored eyes already rolling skyward with exasperation at the now very familiar sight.

'Yeah.' Twilight thought. 'You and me both.'

---

Return to the shadows.

[slutty-transformation-stories]

A Stroll In The Park

Elizabeth strolled through the park, her long blonde hair swaying in the light breeze as the setting sun painted the sky with warm hues of orange and pink. Her skin, a gleaming testament to countless hours spent under the sun, seemed to glow with the same fiery intensity. The chatter of birds and the distant laughter of children played a serene melody that harmonized with the rustling of leaves beneath her feet.

Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered by raised voices coming from a secluded area nearby. With a furrowed brow, she quickened her pace to investigate, her curiosity piqued and her irritation growing. As she approached, the words grew clearer: "What do you know about good weed?" one of them spat out. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. The sight that met her was not what she had expected. Two figures dressed in black from head to toe, with piercings and tattoos adorning their bodies, were engaged in a heated argument.

The larger of the two, who had a snarl etched on her lips, turned and noticed Elizabeth. Without missing a beat, she strode over, a smug grin spreading across her face. She blew a thick cloud of smoke directly into Elizabeth's eyes, the pungent scent of marijuana invading her nostrils and making her cough. "What do you think, babe?" the woman, who Elizabeth assumed was Zoe, taunted, her voice a low growl.

Elizabeth stumbled back, her eyes watering as she tried to regain her composure. She couldn't believe these degenerates had the audacity to disrupt her peace. "What's your problem?" she snapped, her voice sharp as a whip. The smaller one, Maddie, chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. They both looked at her with amusement, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

Feeling the beginnings of a migraine, Elizabeth turned on her heel and marched away, the smoke still lingering in her senses. As she reached home, she collapsed by the door, her head spinning. The room swirled around her in a nauseating dance of colors until she blacked out. When she awoke the next morning, she was met with a startling revelation: her once golden skin had paled to a ghastly shade of white, as if the sun had abandoned her overnight. She reached up to her breasts, which felt swollen and tender, a stark contrast to their usual firmness.

Confused and disturbed, she shrugged it off, chalking it up to a weird reaction to the smoke. She dressed in the darkest clothes she could find, a stark departure from her usual vibrant wardrobe, and hurried off to school. Throughout the day, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Every time she saw a beautiful woman, a strange hunger grew in her, a yearning to be near them, to touch them. It was as if her body was betraying her, responding to desires she had never known existed.

On her way home, she found herself back in the park, drawn to the spot where she had encountered the goth duo the day before. They were there again, lounging on a bench, sharing a joint. She approached them with trepidation, her heart pounding in her chest. "Hi," she said tentatively, "I'm Elizabeth." Zoe looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly before she offered a nod. "What's up, blondie?" Maddie drawled, taking a long drag from her cigarette.

Elizabeth felt a sudden surge of light-headedness, the world tilting on its axis. Images flooded her mind: the two goths using her, taking her in ways she had never imagined. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to maintain her composure. She managed a shaky smile, trying to ignore the wetness between her legs. "I just... I wanted to say sorry for running off yesterday," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Maddie took another drag and exhaled, the smoke curling around Elizabeth's face. She stepped closer, her eyes hooded and dark. "It's all good," she murmured, her breath hot against Elizabeth's ear. "But you should've stayed. We had something to show you." Before Elizabeth could react, she was hit with another wave of dizziness, the world around her fading to black.

When she awoke, she found herself in a dimly lit room, the walls adorned with velvet and dark paintings. She sat up with a start, her head spinning. She felt strange, different. Her body hummed with an alien energy, her thoughts consumed by the feel of those pierced hands on her skin. Zoe was nowhere to be seen, but Maddie was there, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she offered Elizabeth a hit from her cigarette.

"You okay?"

The question came from Maddie, her voice a smooth purr that sent a shiver down Elizabeth's spine. She nodded, her eyes still glazed over from the fog in her mind. She took the cigarette, inhaling the acrid smoke deep into her lungs. It burned, but there was something comforting about it, something that made the world feel more... real.

"Good girl," Maddie praised, her hand sliding down to rest on Elizabeth's thigh. "Now, let's get you dressed for the night."

Elizabeth allowed herself to be led to a wardrobe filled with clothes that were the antithesis of her usual attire. Fishnets, black lace, and leather greeted her eyes. She felt a thrill of excitement at the sight, a feeling she didn't quite understand but was eager to explore.

As she slid on the tight fishnets, the fabric clinging to her newly pale legs, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The person staring back at her was a stranger, a ghost of her former self. But instead of fear, she felt... desire. The black tank top she pulled on hugged her new, heavier breasts, showcasing the fullness that seemed to have appeared overnight.

"You're perfect," Maddie murmured, her voice thick with lust as she handed Elizabeth the lavish black lipstick. The color was so dark it was almost sinister, a stark contrast to her previous golden glow. As Elizabeth applied it, she felt the urge to kiss Maddie, to claim her with the same intensity she had seen in the goth's eyes.

When Zoe entered the room, the air grew thick with anticipation. She had changed as well, her usual attire replaced by a tight corset that accentuated her curves. Her eyes locked onto Elizabeth, and the smaller girl swallowed hard. "You're going to love this," she whispered, her breath hot and heavy.

The three of them moved to the bed, the mattress creaking beneath their combined weight. Elizabeth's heart raced as she took in the array of toys laid out before them. The monster strap-on was the most intimidating, a symbol of power and dominance that she had never before felt.

Maddie took control, her movements deft and assured. She secured the smaller strap-on around her hips, the sight of the dildo jutting out making Elizabeth's mouth water. Then she turned to Zoe, her eyes never leaving Elizabeth's as she instructed her to get onto the bed.

"I've dreamed of this," Elizabeth confessed, her voice a hoarse whisper. She positioned herself at the head of the bed, her own strap-on pressing against her thigh as she watched Maddie push her strap-on into Zoe's mouth. The goth girl's eyes rolled back in pleasure, a moan escaping her lips.

Elizabeth felt her own desire build, the need to claim and be claimed consuming her. She took a deep breath, the scent of leather and sex heavy in the air. With trembling hands, she secured the massive strap-on, the weight of it making her legs wobble.

"Now, let's see how well you can handle this," Maddie said, her voice a challenge. She pushed Zoe onto her back, spreading her legs wide. Elizabeth stepped forward, the tip of the strap-on brushing against Zoe's pussy. The smaller girl gasped, her eyes locked on Elizabeth's with a mix of fear and excitement.

The first thrust was clumsy, but the feeling was indescribable. Elizabeth felt a surge of power as she watched Zoe's body react to her, felt the wetness of her pussy as it enveloped the plastic cock. She leaned in, her teeth grazing Zoe's neck as she pushed deeper.

Maddie took over Zoe's mouth, her own strap-on buried deep in Elizabeth's throat. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of fear and pleasure that sent Elizabeth spiraling out of control. Her hips bucked wildly, fucking Zoe with a ferocity she had never thought possible.

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans, the slap of skin on skin, the squelch of wetness. Elizabeth's mind was a whirlwind of sensations, each thrust of her strap-on into Zoe's pussy sending a jolt of electricity through her own body. The feeling of power was intoxicating, a high she had never known before.

Maddie watched them with hooded eyes, her own pleasure evident in the way her hips rolled with the rhythm of Elizabeth's movements. She reached down to play with Zoe's clit, her fingers deft and skilled. Zoe's body arched off the bed, her moans muffled by the cock in her mouth.

The smell of sex filled the air, a heady scent that only served to drive Elizabeth wilder. She pulled out of Zoe, her strap-on glistening, and switched places with Maddie. Now it was Maddie's turn to be filled, her eyes widening as Elizabeth pushed into her without hesitation. The smaller goth girl's nails dug into the bedspread, her moans growing louder.

Elizabeth felt her own orgasm building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to consume her. She leaned down, her tongue flicking at Maddie's nipple as she pumped her hips in a frantic rhythm. Zoe watched them, her eyes glazed over, her hand moving between her legs.

As Elizabeth reached her peak, she pulled out of Maddie and turned to Zoe, her own need overwhelming. She pushed the smaller girl down onto the bed, her strap-on sliding into Zoe's eager pussy with ease. The two of them moved together, their bodies a tangle of limbs and leather.

Maddie took the opportunity to join them, her own strap-on now forgotten. She slid between them, her tongue finding Elizabeth's clit, her hands roaming over their bodies. The sensation of being pleasured by both of them at once was more than Elizabeth could handle.

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her in a torrent of pleasure. She screamed, her body convulsing as wave after wave of ecstasy washed through her. Zoe's eyes widened as she felt Elizabeth's juices drench her, the sensation of the strap-on in her pussy growing more intense with each spasm.

When it was over, the three of them lay panting on the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and lust. Elizabeth felt a sense of belonging she had never experienced before, a bond formed in the throes of passion and desire.

As they lay there, the reality of what she had become settled into her bones. The popular blonde cheerleader was gone, replaced by this ravenous creature of the night. Yet, as she looked into the eyes of her newfound lovers, she felt no regret. Only hunger for more of what they had to offer.

The transformation was complete. Elizabeth was now one of them, a member of the goth clique she had once scoffed at. And she loved every minute of it.

[moogsmusings]

this will be a note i'll hand to my doctor if i can't talk that day ahahaha GOLD

Yes doctor, I have an unexplainable cause of the ouchies. As you can see I am in pain, no I am not a hypochondriac.

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Twenty-Four AU)

Threesome Edition

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Threesome (M/M/GN), Jealousy/possessive fighting, Spitroasting, Size difference, Oral sex (reader performing & recieving), Swallowing, Double penetration, PinV sex, Anal sex, Breeding kink, Humiliation kink, Creampie, Aftercare.

Word count: 11k

Notes: Alright you fuckin degenerates HERE YOU GO! I DID IT! Alternate version of chap twenty-four which ends with a bit more s p i c e, aka Miguel is no longer a dumb virgin.

You barrelled into the elevator with Mig at your back. Neither of you could even stomach waiting until the doors were closed; the moment you hit the floor he was pinning you down with his lips and biceps, tonguing your mouth with furious, pining little moans. The doors closed on a handful of curious if horrified onlookers.

‘Mm- mm, come here’ he hissed between kisses, furiously petting your body.

‘M-Mig—’ You barely even got his name out of your mouth before his tongue was back down your throat. The soft ‘ding’ of the elevator, a reminder of the professional, clean-cut environment you were in, was drowned out by the sound of Mig grinding you into the floor.

You dug your nails into his back as you smothered you with his human torso. It was hard to breathe. You felt your lungs expanding in your chest as his muscled chest crushed your ribs. No air could hope to break through the bond he’d made between your lips, that halo of saliva and venom, allowing him to taste you in the most perverse way. His flat, hot tongue was curious as it brushed your own. You felt so delicate. So small. He wanted to eat you up.

You were getting lightheaded.

‘Mm—MM—’

It was right then, as Mig was sliding his tongue down your throat, that a deafening bang filled the elevator. You spun in unison to see the unexpected interruption.

The doors to the elevator had been yanked apart, revealing a tall and imposing shadow in its maw. You both watched in a state of panic as their face came into view.

Miguel’s cold, tired pout stared back at you and Mig from the elevators entrance.

For a moment all three of you went silent. You were too shocked to say a word, as was Mig, and Miguel seemed too exasperated to get a word out. He simply ran a hand down his face and furiously rubbed at his eyes.

‘Ay coño—’ he murmured beneath his breath.

You felt your heart sink into your chest. Oh god. You’d been tricked. Of course, this was all a ruse, wasn’t it? Miguel had set you up, made you feel safe, and now he was going to show you off to everyone. You could faintly see the curious spiders moving about the lobby behind him, all of them in the perfect position to see you beneath Mig.

You locked gazes with Miguel as he stared down at you with cold, red, disdainful eyes. You silently pleaded for him not to do whatever he was about to do, even though you knew it was likely pointless. His eyes narrowed.

‘Everything okay Miguel?’

Someone from outside called to him, and you braced for him to reveal you and Mig in your compromising position. But Miguel didn’t do that.

‘It’s fine! Lyla spotted something off about the elevator. I’m going to check it out’ he said, and before anyone could reply he used his own web to slam the elevator doors shut.

You were too shocked to even get up. ‘You—Miguel, where did you—’

‘Why… did you not USE A PORTAL TO GO HOME?’ he hissed in your face. You stumbled back as Mig pushed his way forward, his teeth defensively bared. The two butted foreheads so hard that it let out a violent cracking noise.

It took you stumbling to your feet to stop them from breaking into an all-out war. Your skin-tight suit had been soaked with slick just from Mig’s sweet kisses, and the smell seemed to have a physical pull on the two men. You stood, sodden and abashed, beneath the joint glow of their eyes.

‘I….’ Miguel grunted and coughed, forcing his aggravated expression back on like a mask. ‘I said, why did you two not make a portal and go back to your universe. Why did you go into the elevator?!’

‘I, ah—I, wasn’t, thinking straight’ you blurted. ‘I just… I needed, to—’

‘Eres estúpido—’ Miguel paused midway through his angry rant to breathe. You watched in real time as he forced that instinctual rage down. ‘I know’ Miguel grunted. ‘I know. God, you both—stink. Just— alright, stand back’ he barked. You hated how you still obediently followed his orders.

Miguel held up his watch and created a portal on the far side of the elevator. He gestured for you both to jump in. ‘Here. Sneak out while you can, I’ll divert the people outside.’

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You wanted to ask what his deal was, where he’d gone, why he was suddenly helping. You had a million questions for this man, though you quickly realized they’d have to wait, as Mig was tugging you towards him. The spider hadn’t blinked since Miguel entered the elevator, and his body was shaking with an innate desire to tear his rival to shreds.

Miguel stared back with cold eyes.

‘Go, now. Out’ he said. Mig bobbed his head. He checked quickly that you were safe and stable at his side, and with his foreleg around your waist he leapt through.

You dove through the portal and stumbled back out into the old woods, your feet right on the verge of your homely little hole in the ground. You let out a low groan as you hit the grass.

The heat was still burning low and strong in your core, thickening with every minute that passed. You’d settled it a little by letting Mig grind on you, but it would soon return. At least you’d be able to quell it at home.

Mig took a moment to collect himself on the grass before grasping your nape between his teeth, his favourite method for carrying you in a rut. It was pleasurable to grasp you in his maw, to show off how small you were and how strong he was. You didn’t need words; his warm, affectionate breath on your neck was enough, as was your willing acceptance of his grip.

You hung limp and allowed him to carry you down into your shared nest. Through the rounded door, down into the dimly lit earthen tunnels where the candlelight danced across your skin. Your belly knotted in anticipation. You knew where he was taking you.

Sure enough, Mig went straight to the bedroom. He widened his jaw and let you drop into the soft, sweet silk covering your shared bed, all of it smelling like him. You breathed in his scent as he began rustling at your back. He was doing his little mating dance, rhythmically shaking to earn your favour.

‘Mi tesoro’ he whined. ‘Mi hermoso tesoro, te necesito.’

You coyly glanced over your shoulder at him. That temptation was bubbling in your gut again, the heat prickling beneath the skin. You wanted that pretty spider to have you.

‘Mm… Mig, come here—’

You rolled and held out your arms, ready to take him in, only to lose sight of him in an explosion of light.

Your arms flew to your face as Mig dived on your body. You could feel him trying to shield you, but from what you didn’t know. You tensed and prepared for some kind of attack.

But nothing happened. Seconds passed without a change in the air, spare for the light you could see dancing beneath your closed lids. When Mig also failed to move or speak, you opened your eyes.

You froze. Miguel was standing in the middle of your bedroom, his silhouette framed by a shifting portal, the culprit of the sudden explosion of light. He ignored you both as you gawked in shock, instead fixing his sleeves as the portal collapsed in on itself.

‘Miguel?’ you blurted. He glanced down at you and froze. He could smell the heat on you even here. That fragrant, tempting musk, the scent of slick dripping from a body ready for him to breed.

He was like a starving man on the brink of death being taunted with an overripe peach; all he wanted to do was tear into that soft flesh, and taste whatever was inside. He bit his tongue to stop flushing.

‘Really? The moment you got back, you start—rubbing on each other again? Not a second to waste? God you are both—’ he paused to hiss beneath his breath. ‘Degenerado. Cochino’ he emphasised as he glanced at Mig. The two locked eyes.

‘You’ Mig hissed, venom bubbling at the corners of his teeth.

‘Cochino’ Mig repeated coldly.

The two jumped at each other before you could even think of stopping them. They went for the throat, teeth gnashing and claws flying, snapping and pushing on each other’s shoulders like dogs. You yanked at Mig’s fur in vain.

‘STOP! MIGUEL, STOP!’ you cried.

After the initial burst of rage Miguel did force himself back. He stumbled away and panted hard, leaving you to grip Mig’s side so he didn’t finish the job. It was clear that the hormones in the room were simply too much for them.

‘Get OUT, OF MY NEST!’ Mig seethed. His body let out a rustling sound like a snake, a fools attempt to scare Miguel away. His variant let out a violent hiss, and you tensed in preparation for another attack, but to your surprise Miguel instead relented.

He drew back and shook his head from side to side, physically smacking the left side of his face with his palm. He continued this pattern until he seemed to have calmed. ‘Look, I—I came, to talk. I need to talk to you both’ he said.

‘You are not welcome in my nest, nor even in this forest’ Mig said, his lip curling with distaste.

‘I just—I need to talk to you!’ Miguel replied cryptically. Mig was having none of it. He stamped and reared his front legs in a territorial display.

‘I have nothing to say to you, spare perhaps that I’m disappointed to see you didn’t—’ Mig froze. He wanted to say ‘die’, but as it reached his lips it petered out into nothing. That wasn’t the truth. His raging, stallion hormones were pushing him into anger unbecoming of himself.

He was, deep down, glad to see Miguel alive. Nothing could quell their past, nor his fundamental morals. He valued life. He valued this man, even if he hated him for what he’d done. Mig swallowed hard and struggled to regain his commanding tone.

‘You… What do you want?’ he barked. ‘If you want them—’

‘Idiot. I’m not here to hurt you, or to touch them, or��anything of the sort. Look, if you’re that paranoid, you can… tie my hands together. You’re a freak, you should enjoy that, right?’ Miguel replied spitefully.

Mig narrowed his eyes. ‘If our shared insecurity taught you anything, it should be that you are not my type’ he said slowly.

Miguel narrowed his eyes back. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grim half-smile. He let out a chuckle. It was just one soft noise, then two, then three. ‘Mhm. Funny. Funny. Just—can we talk? …Please?’

He said ‘please’ like it physically hurt to say, but he said it. Mig glanced around his shoulder at you, and you glanced back.

You weren’t sure what to think. Miguel so far had done three things that surprised you. He’d filed the paperwork so you didn’t get in trouble, which at the time you suspected could have been a secret ploy to ruin you later, but now he’d been given the most perfect chance to embarrass you both in front of the society and he’d instead saved you again.

‘If you wanted to talk you have a funny way of going about it’ you said coldly, nothing the fresh cuts on Miguel’s arm. He sneered at you. He clearly wanted to argue back, but just like before he shook his head until his eyes were a little clearer. It was as if he was physically fighting some demonic possession.

‘We’re—spiders. It’s what we do’ he said in response, only to fold at the sight of your disgusted, disbelieving expression. ‘I mean—the, rut, it… I’m sorry. I will hold my tongue’ he said instead.

‘Do you promise to just… stand, quietly? And not, attack my partner again?’ you asked.

‘Yes. I will- stand here, and not attack. I promise’ he said, and even waved his wrist web mechanisms aside. He held up his hands in surrender.

The distaste in Miguel’s eyes was what you wanted to see. If he’d had something planned he’d have looked cool, collected, perhaps smug even. Right now, he looked angry. He looked annoyed, even, that he had to do this. He was doing this against his will, meaning either someone was forcing him to help you, or he was forcing himself to do this.

You gently patted Mig’s back, urging him to lean around and face you again.

‘Let’s hear him out’ you said. Mig instinctively looked disgusted at the idea, almost betrayed that you’d even suggest it.

‘He—after what he did—’

‘I’m not asking for anything other than to hear him out’ you insisted. ‘If he makes a move, you can kill him. Though, only if I haven’t killed him first. But twice now he’s helped us out. He was given the perfect chance to actually get us kicked out and he rejected it.’

‘He— It’s a, ploy. It has to be’ Mig hissed. You shook your head.

‘No. If he had a plan, he wouldn’t be so angry that he’d done it. He knows he’s getting nothing out of this.’

Miguel raised a brow as you spoke. He seemed begrudgingly impressed at how perceptive you were.

‘Argh…. Very well. Arañita, ask what you must’ Mig grumbled. ‘Just don’t let him stay too long. His- stench is disgusting.’

Miguel opened his mouth to argue back, but a murderous side-eye from you forced his mouth shut again. He curled his lip with petulant disdain as you faced him.

‘Alright. Look, we don’t have much time, unless—well unless you plan to watch again, so let’s be quick. Up front, what do you want?’ you spat. Miguel widened his jaw and snapped as he spun, his body betraying the mannerisms of a cornered animal.

‘I wanted to—apologize.’ He grit his teeth on the word ‘apologize’, and he refused to make eye contact, but he did at least manage to get it out. You paused.

‘You—You want to apologise?’ you said incredulously. He grit his teeth so hard they cracked.

‘Y… Yes. Yes. I want to apologize’ he repeated.

You maintained your pause, your eyebrow slowly raising. Now this was interesting. Interesting enough for you to briefly push your heat aside. ‘Okay’ you said, ‘go on. Do it. Apologize.’

Mig let out a dangerous purr at your back as he watched the man with unblinking eyes, as did you. Miguel felt that gaze like a spotlight.

‘I’m—sorry, for how I acted’ Miguel said. The words seemed to weigh in his mouth like hot coals. It looked like agony. ‘I’m sorry. I am, genuinely, sorry, that I let my distaste for you personally impact their safety.’

‘What about Mig’s safety?’ you pushed.

Miguel bared his teeth. ‘I was getting to tha—uh. Yes, I am sorry that I impacted on your safety too, Miguel. You—whatever issues we have, you were under my care, and… you are one of me. The only one of me I still have contact with. I should have kept you safe.’

‘I don’t need your protecting’ Mig sneered. He reared himself for the second time, fully gripping the roots of the ceiling with his claws to show off his enormous side. Miguel stirred with discomfort at the display. He tried, against all the impulses in his body telling him otherwise, to stand still and finish his apology.

‘I’m sorry I tried to approach you so aggressively while in rut, I—am, disgusted in myself for that. I grabbed you and that was wrong. I’m sorry I acted unprofessionally in trying to tear you apart. I truly, believed, I was doing what was right, that you were in danger in his care, but I—I was wrong’ he said, grimacing on the word ‘wrong’.

‘I know I was wrong. And I hate it, because I can’t afford to be wrong, but that—that isn’t your fault. I just—I am sorry, for how I pushed both of you. You… didn’t, technically, do anything wrong.’

Mig listened in silence. When he spoke, it was cold.

‘I don’t care. I don’t want it.’

‘Mig—’

‘I don’t need, nor want, his apology’ Mig cried, both at you and Miguel. ‘And you shouldn’t either. He is a lying snake!’

‘I can’t—lie! O’Hara’s can’t lie!’ Miguel argued, his hands now clasped to his chest. Mig spat venom at him for the second time.

‘You are not an O’Hara. You are a snake. You are—’

‘YOU’RE being unfair! I apologized, I—I did the thing, this is not my fault anymore!’

Mig let out a sardonic laugh. ‘After all you’ve done? You pathetic, grovelling, creature, begging for my mate, begging for attention—’

‘I’M SORRY’ Miguel blurted. Mig reared himself up to instigate a fight, but this time you held him back. You grabbed a thick fistful of his fur and tugged him back down to the bed beside you.

‘Miggy- stop—’

You heard their teeth clashing above you. You hated, internally, how your hot little body throbbed at the sound. You were still instinctively excited by their violence.

‘YOU ARE A SNAKE—’

‘I’M TRYING—TO FIX THING—’

‘YOU ARE A MONSTER!’ Mig cried, his mouth barely a cm Miguel’s.

‘YES! YES, I AM!’

Miguel’s wailing filled the room as the two fell apart, and for a moment you all paused. He let out another broken sound as he paced back and forth across the dirt floor of your bedroom, his head now hanging in his clawed hands.

‘I am! I am! Why do you have to remind me!?’

Mig paused. He was trembling with the unfulfilled need to fight, coursing with adrenaline, but that noise ruined everything. The sound of a man wailing. He didn’t know what to do with that.

‘You… After, all you’ve done—’

‘Yes! I know! It’s why I--- It’s why, I’m trying’ he whined through gritted teeth. You could feel Mig tapping his feet in discomfort.

‘Is that what—do I have to stand here, and be berated, to fix this!?’

‘Why should I not be allowed to speak to you the way I want?!’ Mig snapped.

‘Because it—GOD, It’s so easy for you!’

‘What do you mean, easy for me?!’

‘Because despite what you are, you—grotesque, beast, you get to be—’ Miguel paused again. Through all that anger, through all that disgust, you thought for a moment that he looked sad. ‘You get… you get…’

He looked pitiable, lost, alone. It flashed over his eyes for just a second before he blinked it away.

‘I have seen, every version of myself’ Miguel said. His voice had dipped now, reflecting that internal sadness you’d sensed. ‘Every. Version. They are all… miserable. They all lose someone, if not everything. Do you know how many Peter Parkers there are, that are happy?’

You shook your head awkwardly, and Miguel let out a sardonic chuckle. ‘Almost 60%. Do you know how many versions of me, are happy?’

Again, you shook your head. You saw that little flash of self-pity again.

‘It’s just… him’ he spat. He raised a claw and pointed it at Mig, who stared back with sombre eyes. ‘It’s just, him, now. The only one happy, and it wasn’t even with someone from his own universe. He’s all that’s left. The only other version of us who got to be happy was the one who wasn’t changed, who got to have a child, but he died before he got to really raise her. Everywhere I went, I was alone, or dead, or a monster. Do you know, what they DOES to a person?’

You felt your body growing small in the face of his spiel. You felt Mig shuffling uncomfortably.

‘You don’t. But he does.’ Miguel pointed again to Mig, who refused to meet his gaze. ‘He knows. He knows what it means to be alone, and for that I needed him.’

For some reason, that sentiment bothered you. ‘You treated Mig worse than anyone else’ you blurted. Miguel didn’t deny it.

‘Because I know why we’re alone! It’s—us! As beings!’ Miguel lamented. ‘It’s the spider in us, this, monster, this animal, with no morals, just—eat, fuck, sleep, kill. I wanted to believe I could be good. That I could be better. But I keep…’

He paused again to let out a long breath. ‘I keep, fucking, up. I keep hurting people, like you. But he fucked up too. I justified, myself, because… well he fucked up too. It must be all of us. But he… You, stayed with him, so long. You ignored peoples disgust, you—ignored his body, and you, stayed. I couldn’t comprehend why. I thought—he had to be using you.’

‘I stayed because he’s good’ you insisted. ‘See, you’re so—cruel to him, just for looking this way. He’s only ever been kind.’

‘Ah. Yep. And there it is.’

You blinked in confusion as Miguel smiled sadly.

‘There it is, that’s what drove me so mad. Like he said. I am—a jealous, man. Why did you care about him, why did you want him, and not me?’

‘I—’

‘It doesn’t matter. Does it? It doesn’t matter why you picked him. All that mattered, to me, is that you didn’t pick me. I… hate, what I am. I despise it. And I just—I wanted, someone, to want me. Even a part of me. I wanted someone to prove me wrong. But they never did.’

‘But, your friend—’ you started to say, until Miguel interrupted you again.

‘Pity’ Miguel grunted. ‘It feels like… pity, when he touches me. It’s why I can’t stand it unless I have to. He’s a good man, but… Nobody touches me because they want me.’

‘How sad’ Mig cruelly noted. Miguel let out another sad laugh, and you noticed then that his red eyes were wavering. They were swimming, like the setting sun over an ocean scape. He was crying. He was trembling as he fought himself.

‘You stood by his side. You stood by him through everything, and I…’

He paused and wiped a hand down his face. ‘I have no excuse anymore. Something is wrong with me. I don’t know what, maybe—it is, the spider, maybe its potency is more in me than him because its hidden, I don’t know. I just know that, he’s doing something right, and—I don’t know what it is, but, I want to know.’

He turned to face the wall, seemingly to hide his emotion. ‘I’m sorry’ Miguel said slowly. ‘I am, sorry.’

Mig took a minute or so to slow his breathing, using your warmth and presence as a comforter to soothe his violently beating heart. His body began to relax as he leant against you for support.

Bit by bit, the tension in the room burnt out. Soon all that was left was the smouldering remnants of a very complicated relationship, lingering within all three of you at once.

‘I… don’t, know, how to trust this’ Mig hissed. ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to trust you.’

‘I will prove it’ Miguel said over his shoulder. ‘I will. I want to, help.’

‘Help with what?’ Mig pushed.

Miguel let out an exasperated sigh. ‘We mentioned, ages ago, that the reason you needed to be sanctioned was due to the unknown factors around people from different dimensions having children. Right?’

‘Yes. I remember what you used to keep us apart’ Mig hissed.

‘I…’ Miguel opened his mouth to deny it, but he had to stop himself. He knew it was true. ‘Yes, I did. I used it as an excuse to shame you away from each other. But—it wasn’t, untrue.’

‘What wasn’t?’ you asked.

‘The issue of, inter-dimensional couples’ Miguel explained. ‘That. That is the issue. People from different universes have different DNA, we’re coded to the universe we came from. As far as we know, it’s not changeable. It’s why, without that watch there, you would de-stabilize and your DNA would crumble in another world.’

You blinked, and glanced at the watch on your wrist. As you contemplated what he was saying, you started to feel a little sick. The reminder that you weren’t welcome here, that you were hanging by a thread in this world, it hurt to realize. You and Mig weren’t from the same universe. You were never meant to meet.

‘Because of that, the idea that—well, the possibility of breeding between dimensions, it’s never been touched before. None of our members have tried, until… you, two. There is a very real fear that it could cause an anomaly, or—kill you, one or both of you.’

You were drawn to look at Mig, and he was drawn to look at you. He looked horrified. The intrusive memory of Dana, dead on the ground, filled his head. The idea of that being you, of you dying in an attempt to bring about offspring for him, it made him his heart palpitate.

‘Arañita?’ he whimpered. You touched a hand to his flank to help keep him grounded, and internally you stiffened yourself. He needed you to be strong for him.

‘We… yeah. We know that’ you said slowly. ‘I mean—even if it wasn’t true, we accepted that we might not be able to have kids. It’s fine. I’m happy with him.’

‘That’s fine, but… If we could know for sure, would you want to know?’ Miguel asked.

‘I… I mean, yes, but, how?’ you asked, still in shock.

‘I’ve done some research into this area before. I haven’t conducted anything regarding the creation of new life via different universal donors, but, I think my previous research may be useful. I just—I need help to do it. I wasn’t good enough, on my own, to do anything successfully. I’m too- busy.’

He cracked his knuckles as he spoke. He looked angry to admit it, to acknowledge his failure. You watched his full display with wide and curious eyes. Something in him had undoubtedly changed.

‘You’re, asking for help?’

‘Yes. I need—more of me’ Miguel explained. ‘I will do the bulk, since I’m the only one who can do it, but I need assistance, and the only one who can help is another version of me.’

‘And, you’ll help us find out if we can, stay? Together? Why?’ you asked.

Miguel grunted, his lip curling into a slightly sarcastic smile. ‘After all the failures I saw, I gave up. But… I have convinced myself, perhaps stupidly, to do this one more time. To try, one last time. Maybe I can still prove I’m a good person, maybe—’ Maybe I could love something, he thought, though he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Maybe he could be happy. Maybe, he wasn’t doomed.

Mig grunted at Miguels proposition. He didn’t look pleased, but deep down he had regained some of his sympathy for his variant. This arrogant fool had ruined himself, and now he stood here crying, asking for help.

It felt good to see him so low. It also felt bad. Mig could so easily see himself in his place. He’d done so much, and yet he just kept forgiving him. Perhaps he was stupid for that.

Deep down he did want to regain his connection to Miguel, as the only two people in the multiverse who understood each other. How could he not? But the water was so murky now, he didn’t know if it could ever be fully cleaned.

The hormones certainly didn’t help. While he instinctually wanted to submit to you, in turn he wanted to submit this man. He’d beaten him in a fight, he’d won your favour, and yet it wasn’t enough. He still felt unfulfilled. What more could he need? What could he do to even them?

Either way, what mattered is that Miguel was making an offer that meant the world to him. The chance to be with you long term, to consider having a family, to be a unit. It was all he wanted.

‘Very well’ Mig said slowly. He began to lower his tensed spider legs back to the floor as a sign of clemency. ‘I… accept your proposal. I cannot accept your apology, but I accept it as a… start.’

Miguel gave an awkward nod in response. His eyes betrayed a conflicted admiration for his counterpart, though it was still tinted with self-loathing and jealousy. Mig sighed. His own eyes betrayed the same.

‘Yes, I um—I don’t know if I can forgive, yet, not until I’ve seen some change, but… I mean I appreciate the apology. I do’ you said.

‘Oh, god—don’t pity me too’ Miguel scoffed.

You let out a little sarcastic laugh through your nose. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. I—’

You opened your mouth to add something, only to double over with a low groan.

You’d forgotten. In the thick of shock you’d forgotten the heat, still lingering deep within your body, begging for release. Against your will it reared its head, that primal urge bursting forth into your blood. It was hot. It was tight. It was BEGGING.

‘Ah…. F-fuck, ah—’

‘Are they okay?’ Miguel blurted. Against his better judgement he moved to help you, only to get a nose-full of that smell. The sweet, rich musk of your body, the smell of pheromones calling to him. He almost stumbled.

‘Oh… Oh. I—’

He caught Mig’s eye as you whined and shuffled in the sheets. The spider was glowing with dangerous intent. His eyes were wide, red, bloody and smooth, and he was slowly moving to cover your body. He refused to blink as he dragged your little body towards his own, his teeth sinking into your suit to pull you closer.

Miguel felt that usual flood of confusing, conflicting emotion. He felt jealousy, lust, disgust. He wanted to run, to flee, and yet he wanted more than anything to dive in, to bury himself in that mattress and plead for your favour.

‘I see you are—busy’ Miguel said through his teeth.

You managed to look up at him as he spoke, your misty eyes struggling to fixate on his face.

Just as he could smell you, you could smell him. As you breathed in his pheromones you came to a sad realization.

Miguel was still infected. He was still rich with pollen, still rutting, still burning up with heat, and he had no other outlet. You’d needed sex almost ten times a day to soothe your shared rut, but theoretically, Miguel had received nothing. No relief, no saving, just that agonising itch he couldn’t scratch.

Your saw his eyes lingering. He was sniffing, subtly, breathing in the smell of warmth and sex and musk. You saw his fist tighten and noted the subtle squeak of straining leather as it did so.

‘I… I should, go—’

‘Wait.’

You spoke without thinking, ordering him to stay. He did as told, his eyes lingering on your face. You held that gaze.

O’Hara’s couldn’t lie. They could hide the truth, but they couldn’t distort it. You knew he was genuinely sorry for what he’d done. He wouldn’t sound so angry about it if he wasn’t. Whatever he’d done before, right now, he was tame.

You couldn’t forgive him so easily, but your brain was on fire. The heat had burned away all higher thought, and you just couldn’t cope with the need. You saw him standing there, alone, and you thought about when you were crushed during the fight.

You secretly relived that memory often. The thought of being penetrated on both ends, to be utterly subdued by two huge men with their snapping teeth and inhuman pheromones, it was too much to even think about. It made you soft. It made your insides clench around nothing, reminding you of your own need to be filled.

The final, filthiest taboo. The one peak, the one ultimate indulgence. That sweet, rare, unachievable gem.

As you looked up with misty eyes you saw the tension in Miguel. The need bubbling just under the surface, the accumulated denial of relief. That stupid, emotionally constipated man, denying himself the most basic touch, ruining himself for pride.

It was hard to not feel sorry for him. It was hard to not want to see him weep over the faintest touch. It was hard to not want to submit him yourself.

‘I think… I think, I know, how he can start showing, how sorry he is’ you murmured.

You felt Mig shifting above you. He was already hard, unabashedly so even in front of his variant, and he seemed too distracted to have heard you. He was panting while rubbing himself out against your thighs.

‘Uhn… w-what?’ he asked, his voice husky. You licked your bottom lip.

‘I… I know, how he can start, making it up to us. If he agrees’ you repeated slowly. You felt Mig rock to a stop.

‘What— What do you mean?’ Miguel hissed. He was feigning annoyance to avoid revealing how aroused he was, how the smell of your body was tugging at him like a physical rope. You licked your lip a second time, and this time, you bit it. Miguel’s eyes instinctively widened.

‘We made him watch us, that one time, right?’ you said slowly. While Mig purred at the memory Miguel looked away, clearly embarrassed. He must have assumed you were going to make him sit and watch again.

‘Yes, I remember’ Mig replied. ‘Do you—’

‘What if, we—did that again, but this time, we let him help?’ you blurted.

Miguel’s head snapped back to you, his eyes wide and hungry. He seemed confused. Did he think he’d misheard? Did he think his mind was playing tricks? You held his gaze steady, your own eyes starving for touch, and slowly his eyes widened with realization. No, he’d heard right.

‘He could… help us out, with easing the r—’

Mig growled hard, cutting off your proposition. You groaned as his talons sank into your back. He pinned you hard to the bed as he leered around your back, his eyes burning as they narrowed at Miguel.

‘Mine.’

‘No, Mig, I—’ you glanced up and tried to catch Mig’s attention, your eyes darting between him and Miguel. You were gesturing silently your desire, your interest.

‘What—what are you saying, arañita?’ he hissed. You bade for him to come down so you could speak with some semblance of privacy.

‘I… I, look, just hear me out. I’m suggesting, that… maybe, just, one time, it—fuck, this rut is so bad, and, if he owes us, it might help me, to… let him, get, involved.’

For a moment you saw concern flash over Mig’s eyes. ‘You… want, him?’ he asked. You shook your head.

‘No, no, not like that. I don’t want him. Just… what he has on him’ you whispered. ‘This is purely physical, I just… This all started, because—mm—we’re all, messy, hormonal, idiots, and you know that. I-I know, you offered to let him watch again, to—ease himself. I-I’m offering that again, just—different. As weird as it is, he owes us, and I want him—to make up for shaming us. How better than to show him for the hypocrite he is?’

In the corner Miguel was absolutely still. He was trying to cover up how he was almost drooling at the mouth like a starving animal, his venom glands working overtime as his rutting body trembled.

This was wrong, he thought. This was so wrong. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t indulge this. Oh, but god, the idea of touching something, of being touched, it made him dizzy. Despite his brain screaming at him to go, he stayed.

‘I-I don’t want your, pity fuck’ Miguel hissed.

‘It’s not pity’ you hissed back, your own body now trembling. ‘I want—to use you.’

Those words drew him to pause. Being used? That meant being wanted, at least on some level, right? Suddenly all of his reservations melted, leaving only the burning, desperate excitement beneath. He’d be touched. He’d be wanted, even just as a donor. He’d be required.

Mig purred low. His eyes were narrowed, but he seemed curious. ‘You… Wish to, use him?’ he murmured. ‘But, the mating—’

‘No mating’ you panted. ‘Just- I’m proposing just the mouth, for now. No mating. I only mate with you.’

The mouth, Miguel thought with a tremble. He could fuck your mouth.

Mig grunted, his breath condensing in the air. The glow of his eyes turned his smoky breath red. He refused to let anyone else touch you, or inside you, but he couldn’t pretend something inside him wasn’t a little aroused by the idea of you using his counterpart for your own pleasure.

The heat was spiralling you all out of your usual depths.

‘You are, mine?’ he murmured. He spoke so low that only you could hear him.

‘I’m yours’ you whispered back. As if to prove that point you used his foreleg claw to slice your suit open at the crotch, smearing his fur with the seed he’d left dripping from your cunt. He shuddered a little at the reminder.

‘All yours. It’s just… It’ll calm him down, it’ll calm me down, and he’ll have to obey you. I’ll let you be in control of what he does. I think, that might calm you down, too.’

Mig glanced down at the little sticky white strings hanging between his fur and your inner thighs. He fixated on them as he tried to think through the haze of heat, through the violent throbbing pulsing of his cock.

The more he dwelled on the idea, the more it fascinated him. It felt deeply perverse but in this state it was feeding his pleasure. He was disgusting and horrified at the idea of you mating with his variant, or of being affectionate with anyone else, but what you suggested? Using him like a toy to bring him right down to your level, to humble him completely, keeping him in your joint good graces so he never messed with him again? It fed right into his need to assert dominance.

It was tempting. As was the idea of seeing you so desperate, so horny, all while taking his seed alone, it sent a little shiver up his spine. His abdomen rustled.

‘Mm… I will, be in control?’ Mig asked. You nodded.

‘And… you are, mine?’ he repeated. You nodded harder.

‘All yours’ you whined. ‘All, all yours. Always.’

Mig purred again. He let out a low clicking noise before raising his head, and with a neutral expression he gestured for Miguel to approach with one claw. Miguel obeyed.

‘You do not mate with them’ the great spider barked. ‘That is my right only. You do not touch this—’ he paused to gesture at your chest, your clit, and your entrance, ‘Or this, or this. They are mine. You will not speak nor receive any words of affection beyond appreciation for their- hospitality. That is for me alone. You will stand still, and obey, and they’ll do what they want with you. Understand?’

Miguel curled his lips. He seemed aggravated still that he had to tilt his head back to speak with his counterpart, but the need to be touched kept him rooted to the spot. ‘Yes, sir’ he grunted with a crack of his knuckles.

Mig purred. Their eyes glowered in the dark of the den. ‘Good’ he noted. ‘Then, mi arañita, you may show me what you want.’  

You were shaking with anticipation as you nodded up at him. ‘O-Okay. Just—if, if anything bothers you, let me know, okay?’

Mig paused and admired how affectionate your gaze was, how big your eyes looked peering up at him from your precious position, bound and pinned on the bed by his huge hands. ‘Of course’ he purred. ‘Of course. Mi arañita.’

You nodded to Mig before letting him mount you from behind, instead turning your own focus to Miguel. ‘C-Come here’ you panted.

He approached with a slightly curled lip, seemingly annoyed that he had to take orders, but despite his cold face you could see his cock straining beneath his suit. The hologram was sparking at the tip with how hard it was trying to burst forth.

He stopped in front of your face, barely an inch from your lips.

‘You… Are you—a-ah!’ You squeaked and jolted as Mig tore your suit aside, leaving you completely naked. You could feel his tip probing at your cunt, smearing you with pre-cum. Miguel’s eye twitched as he fought not to show he arousing he found your pathetic, needy display.

‘Are you, ready?’ you asked. Miguel looked down at your wide, hot, pleading face, and for the first time, he looked almost shy. He slowly nodded.

You gestured for him to lower his suit. Miguel did so silently, his eyes fixated on your face as you waited impatiently. He waved away the suit at his groin, and you watched as his hefty cock fell free in front of your face. You squeaked at the sight.

You weren’t exactly surprised by the size. He was clearly huge, veiny and uncut, but you’d been rather ruined by Mig’s extraordinary size and structure. His plush, soft, squishy phallus was unmatched.

You were shocked just because you were seeing it at all. What a filthy thing to do. Part of you still wondered if this was wrong, if this was a good idea, but your brain had been melted by lust until it was all that remained.

As Mig angled himself and began coyly puncturing your cunt with just the tip of his cock, you widened your lips into a wet, inviting little circle.

Miguel swallowed hard. He put one finger beneath your chin and slowly moved in, letting his member sit upon your lips. He seemed afraid that at any moment he’d be bitten.

You let out a moan and started to tongue him. He tasted unnervingly different to Mig, clean but slightly sweaty with a faint metallic tinge lingering on the skin from his holographic suit. You flicked on the tip and let his pre-cum smear your tongue. Thick, warm, just a little sweet.

‘Ay, Dios mio’ Miguel whimpered. The stoic monster was already submitting.

You swirled your tongue around his member and gingerly started to suck on him. Immediately, your eyes rolled back into your skull. God it felt so good. You strained for more, hungrily trying to lap at his shaft. His hand flew to your head.

‘Ah, perfecto/a—’

Miguel groaned out loud only for Mig to hiss in his face, instinctively drawing Miguel to hiss back. You had to buck your hips to settle the two down.

‘You—you do as he says’ you panted up at Miguel. He glanced down and eyed up your face in turn, noting the way you were trembling and jolting with each gentle thrust from your partner. The sight made him weak. He swallowed his pride and ducked his head.

‘Yes, sir’ he murmured.

Mig purred low as he pumped himself inside you. He made Miguel wait as punishment, forced to watch you mewl and whimper as the wet sound of your copulation filled the air, but after seeing how horny you were he relented. Mig gestured for Miguel to continue before letting out his own low groan of satisfaction as he pushed in deep.

Miguel grunted and spread his legs for stability. He put his thumb on your smooth, wet lower lip, and slowly pulled it down. He eased your jaw open before pushing his cock towards you.

You tensed up, hard, and caught his eye as he pushed it in. You felt his cock enter your mouth and audibly whined.

He let out a sound like he was being strangled. The pure, inescapable relief, it was overwhelming. Fuck, he was inside your mouth. He was being touched. He was fucking something.

He started to move the moment he felt the velvety lining of your mouth squishing his shaft.

So soft. So wet. Your tongue moving back and forth on the base of his shaft, combined with the soft sucking motion of your lips and throat, it made him want to cry. That big man was reduced to an absolute mess.

His clawed hands flew to your head for stability, but a hiss from Mig forced them back. He put his hands behind his head and internally strained to stay standing as you sucked on him. ‘A-Ah—so, so soft, so soft—'

‘Soft’ Mig repeated. He was fully inside your cunt now, his cock squishing back and forth against your walls as they quivered and clenched. His entire abdomen was bucking hard with each thrust, and the motion was unintentionally pushing you back and forth along Miguel’s shaft.

You were truly spit roasted between the two, penetrated on both sides by those enormous men who could both break your back with ease.

Fuck, it felt so good. This was heaven, and every bodily fluid involved here was your mana.

As you sucked on Miguel, you felt his hips starting to move of their own accord. He started to gingerly pump your throat. He wasn’t as big as Mig, but he was still so much more powerful than you, so rough and strong. You caught his abs tensing as he willed himself not to cum too fast.

He moved one hand from his head to your chin so he could feel it moving in your throat. Your eyes unintentionally locked.

You still retained your distaste for the man, and his smug little groans were grating, but there was something really pleasurable about having him fuck your mouth. You kind of liked submitting to him. You kind of liked this asshole getting his way, especially like this.

As he watched you his lips parted. ‘You like that?’ he whispered, smugly flashing a fang. You moaned in response.

‘Yeah, they like it’ Miguel breathed.

‘Mm… Good arañita’ Mig purred. ‘Are you having fun, mi tesoro? Do you feel better?’

You moaned louder, your cunt unintentionally clenching him tight. Mig’s deep groan resonated through the entire den. ‘A-Ah-- Tú eres el major, aranita. Ah… Is that small thing giving you a mouthful at least?’

His subtle jab made Miguel hiss, but he was quickly humbled once more. Mig withdrew his shaft about halfway out just to measure up against him, forcing Miguel to see the sheer size of that plush red cock dripping in pearly slick. You whined and bucked your hips, begging for him to put it back, and with a smug grunt Mig returned to pumping.

Miguel bit back his desire to bite the man’s throat. He wasn’t used to being the smaller man.

He relented to just being grateful he was being touched. No matter what, he got to fuck your mouth. He got to watch your bratty, difficult little face while you sucked his cock, mewling and moaning submissively, and that was truly enough.

He did a little test by pulling out, and sure enough you whimpered and strained to get it back. He pulled out inch by inch, until just that sweet, curved member was resting on your lips, and only when you pleaded did he slide it back in.

‘Ah… there you go’ he murmured smugly. ‘There you go. I’ll give you what you want.’

He didn’t need to breed you. He just needed you to beg once. He needed to be wanted.

In this messy, tense threesome you all continued to indulge. Miguel remained rigidly still as you played with his cock, coyly sucking and stroking and teasing as you wanted, while Mig pumped in and out of your pussy.

Your home was saturated with a musk so thick you could almost see it, taste it. You were drowning in the smell of sex, the taste of skin and cum, and the obscene soundscape of your own body being ravaged while you choked on Miguel’s shaft.

The tension just kept growing. You were losing all higher thought, dumbifying yourself to be their little breedable catch, relishing in the submission. It had, somehow, breached the divide between the two men, as they fixated solely on you and your pleasure.

At one point Mig pulled out just so he could lift your hips to his mouth and slather you with his affectionate tongue, eagerly lapping at your swollen clit as you continued sucking on Miguel. Your moans vibrated through his soul.

‘Mm.. Tengo un hambre de lobos, arañita. Quiero comerte’ Mig purred between licks. When you bucked your hips for more he chuckled. ‘Mm. Do you like that, mi tesoro?’

Your reply was muffled by Miguel’s cock, but he replied for you. ‘They—mm, they said—y-yes’ he grunted.

Mig paused. An intrusive thought filled his head, and while it disgusted him at first, his hormones pushed him to ask. ‘They… How do they feel?’ he purred.

Miguel whimpered. ‘Ah… a-amazing’ he confessed. ‘So… fucking, amazing—’

Mig rustled with perverse excitement. He began to raise himself back up, his enormous phallus throbbing and twitching in the cold air. He turned and curiously watched you moaning and deep throating Miguel as he slowly pushed his cock back inside you. He watched you squirm, your hips shifting and adjusting to the size, your hands tearing at the sheets as you screamed.

He let out a little rustle of satisfaction.

‘Would you prefer to be sucking on me, arañita?’ he asked, emphasising each word with a slow thrust. You nodded aggressively.

Miguel felt his stomach drop a little at the embarrassment, but Mig wasn’t finished.

‘Are you having fun though, mi tesoro? With your new toy?’ he asked.

Again, you nodded aggressively, your lips widening as you slathered Miguel from base to tip. You allowed your saliva to hang and drip from his veiny cock down onto the silk below.

Miguel almost whined out loud. That’s what he needed. Fuck, it was humiliating, but it was so worth it.

He could be a toy. He could be your toy. He gripped the back of his head and started pumping into your throat again.

‘A-Ah… F-Fuck, I’m—close—’

To his own personal disgust, he looked at you and Mig for permission to cum. You nodded eagerly at the idea, and Mig simply waved his hand. He was too busy riding out his own pleasure to care right now; he was on the verge of cumming inside you, of filling your womb with his hot seed, he didn’t care about that pathetic toy squirting in your mouth.

Miguel sighed with relief as he was given assent. He grabbed your head and started thrusting hard.

‘F-Fuck, oh— más duro, haz que me corra—!’

Miguel came violently, unloading god knows how much pent up cum into your throat. You took it all with nothing but a shocked squeak.

He grabbed and pulled your hair as he slathered your mouth and gullet with that thick load. It slid down hard, and you were forced to swallow the entire time he pumped to stop it overflowing.

And then, right as you were choking on Miguel’s seed, Mig ejaculated inside you. You were thrown between them like a rag doll, like a true little cum dumpster, filled from every angle. Mig thrust hard to paint your cervix with his seed which pushed you forward onto Miguel’s shaft.

It was too much. Even without outside stimulation you managed to shudder into your own brutal orgasm. You clenched Mig so hard he rasped at the feeling, your little body shaking and spasming with pleasure. Your screams were muffled by Miguel’s shaft, but he felt your throat vibrating.

‘Good—good arañita, that’s it’ Mig panted frantically. ‘Good, good little arañita, that’s it. You enjoy yourself.’

When they’d both emptied themselves they slowed and slowly pulled out, leaving you to collapse into the sheets. You were immediately showered with kisses and praise from Mig while Miguel fell to his knees.

He was euphoric. The man almost fell into a full prayer position as he lulled in the sweet relief you’d offered.

You expected that to be it. You’d quelled the beast, you’d achieved a kind of stalemate. But it wasn’t over.

As you lay back and let Mig continue his gentle aftercare, you began to realize that the heat hadn’t passed. It was still in your veins. You continued whining, mewling, wiggling your hips for attention. The two men could feel that brief emptiness beginning to build up again.

It was as if there was a pressure inside their bodies that they had to expel, that they needed to unload into you. It was painful, weighty, a physical need.

The more sweet, wet little noises escaped your mouth, the more they seemed to involuntarily converge on you. You felt Mig at your back gently rustling his abdomen, and you felt Miguel starting to crawl towards your front. You felt their breath on your skin, their hungry eyes gawking.

You were spread out before them, naked and warm, your body coated in little beads of sweat. They could see the pearly strings of slick between your thighs.  It was glistening, smooth. You must be so wet by now.

The tension peaked, like a jar teetering on the edge of a table. The two Miguel’s locked eyes.

The jar fell, and it smashed. They dove at you.

This time there was some snapping and scratching, some territorial hissing as you were tugged back and forth, but your desperate whining and their new-found pack dynamic helped to soothe their instinctive need to fight. Instead, you were grabbed and squished between the two of them at once.

‘Help me prepare them’ Mig barked, and Miguel obeyed.

Miguel held your hips as Mig spread your legs, lifting you up until you were in the right spot for penetration. They used Miguel’s webbing to hang you from the roots above, maintaining your weight in the air, and Mig used his sticky webs to keep your legs stuck to his abdomen. He trapped you in a bondage tie against him, just like when he’d soaked in you, and Miguel used his hands to hold your torso as he positioned himself at your back.

You felt Mig as he forced his cock back up inside you, squishing your overstimulated muscles aside, while Miguel began prepping against your ass. He used his webs to drag over a pot of that pain relieving gel you’d been prescribed. He smeared it over his entire shaft, so thick it dripped off the tip, and with a soft grunt he began lining himself up with your anus.

You let out a soft gasp. You were being distracted by Mig who was already busy slowly moving inside you, so you only barely noticed Miguel’s member probing at your rear. But he didn’t tease for long.

‘Can I—Can I penetrate, here, sir?’ Miguel panted. Mig nodded, clearly too preoccupied with breeding you to care. As you whimpered in their grip Miguel pressed his lips against your neck.

‘May I fuck you, little spider?’ he hissed.

‘Y-Yes.’

‘Has anyone fucked you here before?’ he whispered. Embarrassed, you shook your head.

‘N-No.’

‘Okay. Don’t freak out. I need you, to stay still for me’ Miguel murmured in your ear. ‘Stay still, and try to loosen up’ he purred, before pumping himself inside you.

You immediately tensed up at the sensation. You had to fight to loosen for him, even with that much lube, as his cock’s size was suddenly very noticeable. He forced your muscles to make room from him.

‘MM—mm, that’s it, that’s it, come on—’

He bottomed out with a desperate growl, his claws digging deep into your hips.

You felt everything. The sweat on his abs where they’d pressed into your spine, his muscular hairy thighs against your own, his heavy balls crushed against your ass, and his shaft, gently throbbing inside you. A desperate whimper escaped your lips.

You realized, in your lust, you’d just given your anal virginity to him. Miguel’s groaning let you know that he’d noticed that too. ‘F-Fuck… Fuck, so fucking tight—’

You gasped as his breath hit your neck. You could smell the hunger on him, the desperation, and the allure.

This stupid little spider, this whiny brat, now giving him a taste of what he’d craved for so long. He breathed in your scent and trembled; what a stupidly adorable little thing, he thought. Part of him just wanted to praise you, to berate you, to worship you.

But that part of him was quickly pushed aside. The higher mind was subdued, and all that remained was pure, primal, animal lust. He started to rut the moment he was settled inside you.

‘Uhn—f-fuck, finally—’

His voice peaked as he started thrusting. You felt the power in his hips as they started clapping you from behind, pulsing in and out of that tight hole. The feel of your ass bouncing each time he hit it made him almost weep.

‘Ah—c-careful, please’ you begged.

‘Mm—must, breed you’ he whined. Mig paused and hissed at him again, and this time Miguel willingly backed down. His lust was malforming, adapting to his subservient role just to feed itself.

‘Yes, sir’ he whined. ‘You breed them, sir.’

‘Good’ Mig snapped. He continued humping between your legs as Miguel gently thrust at you from behind. ‘They’re mine.’

The glow of their conjoined gaze was blinding. Red light pulsing in your vision as they skewered you, pumped you, smearing every inch of you with precum and sweat.

‘You want me to breed you, arañita?’ Mig purred.

‘Fuck- breed them good’ Miguel groaned. You felt Mig grasp your jaw in his hand.

‘You were made for O’Hara cum’ he hissed, utterly lost to pleasure. ‘You were made to be stuffed with these genes, arañita. My perfect mate. I want you saturated with it.’

‘You—craved it so much, you couldn’t stand having just one, huh?’ Miguel hissed in tandem, letting out a breathy laugh. You could feel them both crushing you from the front and back as they rhythmically pumped. You were small, helpless, frail between them. You rasped with each shaky moan.

‘Mi arañita’ Mig purred, ‘you sure you don’t want me to breed you for real?’

‘They want to be bred’ Miguel panted. You felt his lips near your neck, his claws on your hips. ‘They need it. I can smell it in them. Their body wants it.’

In the hazy mist of pure degeneracy the two men dissolved into moaning, thrusting animals, grunting and desperately kissing across your face and neck. Mig bent forward to tenderly brush his tongue against your own while Miguel nibbled and kissed your shoulder from behind.

They snapped at each other occasionally, but now even that was a form of sexual gratification. Miguel had lost all boundaries, and he was willing to be the beta if it meant he could vicariously breed you. They had the same DNA, after all, and he was still pumping you regardless.

He’d snap just to get Mig to bare his larger, more terrifying fangs, all for the thrill of backing down.

And you, in the middle, were struggling to even breath. You were being pulverised from both ends, stretched to your limits and fucked until it was all you could feel. Your legs had gone numb, your hands were tingling with pins and needles, and all you could focus on was the two, veiny, weighty cocks twitching and pulsing against your guts.

There was no coming back from this.

‘Can’t- believe, I get to breed with you’ Mig whined. ‘Perfect little spider—’

‘Let—let me take off the patch’ Miguel breathed. Mig purred loudly, his abdomen shaking with excitement. ‘Yes’ he panted, ‘yes, they need breeding properly.’

You squirmed between the two men as they crushed you. They both had elated, almost ravenous expressions, their lips drawn back into the same desperate, dreamlike smile.

‘W-Wait— Mmm, fuck—’

Your face was sweaty from their conjoined breath and the toll this constant movement was taking on your body, and you were struggling to get any word out.

‘We’re gonna breed you, pretty little thing’ Miguel purred, his voice husky as he blurted his most perverse thoughts. ‘Little brood mare, time to grow an O’Hara in you.’

‘F-Fuck—’ You squirmed harder and screamed with pleasure as they both continued to erratically pump you. They were feeding into each other’s delusional fantasies.

‘Mm—Arañita, don’t you want it?’

You were losing your mind like this. There was nothing but them, nothing but their pleading, nothing but the thick, primal drive between the three of you. You felt yourself going dumb.

‘Ah… y-yes’ you blurted.

‘You want to be bred?’

‘Y-Yes’

‘You want my cum in you, arañita?’

‘Y-Yes!’

‘MM—Fuck, give it to them’ Miguel snapped. ‘Fucking pump them—’

‘Oh I will’ Mig panted. ‘Come here, you beautiful little creature—’

The two started thrusting harder, rhythmically rocking your body back and forth between their own. You were totally crushed into stillness, your body moving without any input from you, leaving you to feel in perfect detail what they were about to do.

You could feel them pulsing in and out together, separated by the thinnest bit of skin, nudging at your insides as they quivered from the overstimulation. You could that your thighs were completely sodden at this point. You were dripping with slick, with cum, with pain relief gel, even with sweat, to the point that you looked like you’d just exited a pool.

You weren’t sure how much more you could take. You clung tight to Mig as he cradled and fucked you.

‘Shh, shh, here we go—here we go—you just take it, mi tesoro, that’s it, just take it—’

‘F-Fuck I’m close—’ Miguel cried.

In near unison the two men ejaculated inside you.

It was far too much for you to handle, but luckily they were in tune enough with your body and hormones to sense that. Miguel had the sense to pull out and keep only the tip inside you, instead pumping his cock with his own fist as he spurted each thick rope into that tight space.

Mig, too, pulled back a little to make room, and supplied you with short, gentle bursts as each squirt of seed pulsed up through his shaft. You were filled, yes, but not so much as to be unbearable. You were allowed to lull and enjoy the feeling of each fat cock gently expanded and throbbing that warm, soothing seed inside you. You could enjoy their joint, frantic breath on your skin, their pitiable whining and grateful kisses.

Once utterly spent the two pulled out slowly and cut the webs, allowing you to go back down to the mattress. Mig stayed with you, your body safe and cradled in his arms, while Miguel collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

The man fought to catch his breath. It felt as if every scrap of energy he had was gone, but as the fog on his brain cleared, he scraped together what willpower he could to glance at you across the bed. He noticed the patch was still in place.

‘Oh, thank, fuck—you idiot’ he whispered beneath his breath, letting out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t fucked up that badly.

At this point the heat had truly been subdued. He could feel the emptiness at last, the relief of that weight lifted from his shoulders. For all the weird, conflicted feelings he had about what he’d just done, the sheer relief trumped them all. He’d have done so much worse just for this. The feeling of being empty, of having mated, it was all he wanted. He lay back and closed his eyes.

On the other side, Mig was busy nestling your cheek. He was focused on keeping you comfortable, ensuring you smelled healthy and weren’t in any pain. He kissed your jaw and nestled into your hair, and in response you shakily put your hand on his cheek.

‘I-I’m okay’ you whispered. ‘I’m okay.’

‘Are you sure, arañita?’

‘Y-Yeah. I’m sure.’

You went quiet for a moment as you nuzzled each other, showing through affectionate that you were both okay and on good terms. His human hands pet at your waist, rubbing you with his calloused thumb, while his sharp nose nestled against your brow.

‘You are… mine?’ he whispered. You nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. I’m yours, Mig. Always. Are you, okay?’

He nodded as well, his lips still parted as he panted. ‘Y-Yes. Yes, I think so.’

‘Are… are you sure?’

You couldn’t deny that part of you felt a little guilty for what you’d asked them to do, even if they’d gotten into it. It was strange. You felt like you shouldn’t have done it, but it’d felt so good it was hard to understand why you felt that way.

Mig hummed and looked from you to Miguel.

The man wasn’t making any moves towards you. He was laying on his back, breathing in the relief.  

As strange as it was, he did feel like he’d found some state of resolution. They were both satisfied finally, which had by itself eased a large amount of the tension between them. He had, technically, followed orders. He had even broken and supported his desire to mate with you.

It hadn’t solved everything, but seeing Miguel wallow in acknowledgment of his hypocrisy, to have had him bow his head and support you both so strongly as to have participated in your copulation, it was definitely a start.

It still felt a little tense, and undoubtedly awkward now that the thrill was done, but it didn’t feel bad, and perhaps right now that was the best they could ask for.

Miguel must have noticed him looking, as he slowly opened one eye. The two locked gazes.

‘Ah…. Hey. Thank you’ Miguel said. Mig’s eyes widened. He seemed too surprised to even give a reply, so Miguel just let out a breathy chuckle.

‘I can think. Finally, fuck, I can think clearly.’

‘You… This doesn’t mean—’

‘I know. They’re yours’ Miguel said, easily catching Mig’s main concern. The spider growled. ‘I know they don’t want me, and I don’t need them. It’s fine. I just—I needed to stop that, fucking, pain—’

He ran a hand down his face as Mig’s eyes darted across his body. Bit by bit, he lessened the tension in his body. He didn’t need to fight.

‘It is… quite, painful. I still recall very well my seasonal ruts when I was isolated, it was… agony’ Mig replied, offering a branch of sympathy. Miguel took it with a similarly cold grunt. ‘It is… awful. Yeah.’ His eyes turned then from Mig to you, locking onto your exhausted eyes. For just a second, they looked soft.

‘Thank you’ he repeated. You just awkwardly nodded. How else did you respond? It was so strange, just lying in the bedroom beside this man you’d hated, who’s cum was now sliding in pretty streaks down your back after being pumped into your ass.

You caught him admiring your body for a moment, but you saw no hunger in him. He wasn’t starving for you. All you could make out was a kind of quiet gratitude, and maybe a little physical attraction.

‘Ah… Okay. I should go’ Miguel said. He rose to his feet with a couple of stumbling steps before phasing his suit back on, covering up any evidence of what he’d done.

‘You—you’ll still help us, right?’ you asked. Miguel nodded without turning his head.

‘Yes. I don’t lie. I stand by my word. Just, uh—avoid me, please, until your heats over. You could, set me off again, and… I like being satisfied, right now. I want to keep this.’

With those final words he drew up a portal and left you Mig’s aftercare, stepping back out into the cool dusk of Nueva York. He breathed in the empty, city air and sighed.

He wasn’t sure how he’d react. Now out of that haze, that mist, would be guilty? Angry? Unsatisfied? Jealous?

No. He just smiled a little to himself, and then made his way back inside. For now, at least, he was truly satisfied.

Link to next part