finspal

[finspal]

hit me with your kill shot, baby

nightweb

Summary:

“Then how do you know about the venom?” Wade asks.

Peter opens his mouth, licks those pretty lips, and closes it. “I um, you know,” he tilts his head, a red flush blooming in his cheeks. “Masturbated before?” he whispers out the word, and then he’s back to hiding on Wade’s shoulder.

“Pete, my love, if we wanna go somewhere with this, you need to mentally graduate middle school first.”

Notes:

Hey... my first spideypool fic and it’s with peter going feral with spidey traits during sex.

a more detailed version of the sex and peter’s spidey traits is there in the end notes, if you would like to know before reading. i promise it’s nothing extreme. most of this is actually kinda cute. kinda.

disclaimer: spiders don’t mate like this irl. i legit made this shit up.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It was three months into their relationship when Peter finally revealed it.

Three months, fourteen days, and a few hours give or take (Wade isn’t that good with time) since they started dating, to be exact. And a good two years of being acquainted with each other. And it is going spectacularly great, they watch Disney marathons together, patrol together, kiss and cuddle and say gay shit from time to time. Everything Wade didn’t even dare hope for. Peter is lovely and angelic on the best of days, blushing at compliments and holding Wade’s hand while he read through his fat nerd textbooks, and downright fucking annoying and bratty on the worst days, forgetting to eat and sleep and burying himself in paperwork and hero-ing, being awfully snappy and rude. Wade, of course, can bear with it all. He himself is one heavy burden in a relationship. So putting the two of them together and doubling the problems to carry was a given, which they are both totally chill with.

The actual problem is that Peter shuffles away the moment their making out gets a bit more intimate, he stiffens and chuckles nervously when Wade’s hands go lower the waist, murmuring an excuse to stop and move on to something else. Which Wade accepts, obviously, and will completely respect. Consent is sexy and all that. But he can’t help but wonder why. Petey kisses very enthusiastically, flushing and whining, face all red and lips all swollen and eyes all glossy. There’s force behind his kisses and his fingers leave bruises which fade in seconds on Wade’s shoulders with the tense grip.

So yeah, Peter is, on some levels, intimate with him. And while Wade does want more, he also wouldn’t mind not having sex at all, because their relationship already makes him the happiest he’s been. He’d never break up with the most gorgeous boy in the world over something as stupid as penetrative sex. But yet—

He just wants a reason.

And above all, he’s scared of the reason.

Because if Peter is very politely refusing sex and willing to go without it because he didn’t want to look at Wade while doing it, Wade would be honestly devastated that he’s resigning Peter to a life of forced celibacy.

The other reason, a darker one that makes his previous murder instincts light up at the speed of light, is one he doesn’t dare entertain for too long. Because he has a good track record which is nearing a full year that he does not want to break.

Thus, he plans an intervention.

Peter is on the couch, clad in only boxers and a thin white t-shirt, reading another textbook with a headache inducing title that Wade has given up on reading because he just could not begin to give a fuck about it. Munching on a chocolate, another in hand for Peter, Wade skips towards the couch and jumps over it, landing on the side next to the hero. Peter makes an annoyed noise, but doesn’t look away from his Chemistry texts.

“You’ll never know the psychopath sitting next to you~” Wade hums, chewing loudly, swaying back and forth. This doesn’t award him as much as a twitch, so he continues, “You’ll never know the murderer sitting next to you~” He wiggles his eyebrows at the word murderer, but Peter isn’t even looking at him. He repeats the song twice, and finally gets a reaction. Peter groans, lifting a hand to weakly slap his shoulder.

“Please stop singing that shitty song, please.”

“Alright, my bad, singing tracks from D.C movies in a marvel fanfic, that’s blasphemy.”

Peter’s back to ignoring him. Is chemistry really that interesting? Wade fucking hates science. He shifts closer and puts an arm around the boy, pulling him closer, caging him in. The way he fits so snug in his arms… Peter is not skinny, but his muscles have an acrobatic build, sinewy and long, flexible. So it’s easy to curl him, mold him into something smaller. Something precious. It makes his heart warmer to feel Peter snuggle in, even if he had been acting bratty moments before.

A hand moves to card through Peter’s soft hair. “We need to talk, Petey.”

“Hm?” Peter’s soft brown eyes peek up at him, frowning. “About what?” A nervous edge in his tone makes Wade laugh, so he trails a hand down to grip Peter at the wrists, which always makes his boyfriend pliant and needy. Particularly because his fingers press on the small slits there, a spot where Wade has discovered to his delight, Peter is deliciously sensitive at.

Peter never lets anyone touch his spinnerets, especially considering how it’s an erogenous zone for him. But Wade has special privilege, which he loves to abuse.

“Nnnggh,” Peter whines the moment he feels pressure at his little web-making slits, but then turns to scowl up at him. “Seriously? I was in a pretty difficult chapter.”

“Oh? Your mind still on chem? Now that just won’t do,” he bends down to bite Pete’s ear, nipping at it, then slowly licking the edge. He feels Peter shudder under him, as he slowly bends Peter over the couch, getting the boy to lay down on his back. Distantly, he hears the thud of a book fall to the ground.

“Urgh, Wade,” Peter complains, voice shaky. “You taste like chocolate!” The weak little pushes he’s doing to resist Wade’s assault are useless, not a speck of Spidey super strength in them. Which can only mean one thing. Peter doesn’t want Wade to stop. Not really. Encouraged, he trails a line of wet kisses from Peter’s crimson, cute ears all the way down to his lithe neck, which is exposed all for Wade, Pete having thrown his head back to sink it into the couch. The hero’s chest heaving as he clutches onto Wade’s shoulders, Peter’s eyes are closed, and his mouth parted.

He’s so sensitive, Wade thinks, so responsive. So beautiful.

Keeping a tight hold on Peter’s right wrist, his fingers playing with the slit, generating small cries of stimulation, Wade chances a touch lower, his other hand moving from Peter’s hips towards his groin.

The change is immediate.

Peter pauses, his breath hitching, his eyes snapping open. The sudden defensive pose makes Wade still, but he doesn’t move away. When he gets no response, he bends down to press another kiss on Peter’s pale neck, which already has a few red spots from his previous assault. Peter shivers under him, but squirms around when he feels a hand on his inner thigh.

“W-Wade…” he whispers, “Wade, wait.”

Wade looks up, their eyes meeting. His hand massages Peter’s inner thigh, reaching under the hem of the boxers to meet soft pulpy flesh underneath.

“Wade, stop!”

Wade immediately let’s go, bouncing backwards in his hurry to get away, and almost topples off the couch. He sits on the back of his heels at the side, frowning, heart thudding with new found concern. Peter’s chest is heaving, a pretty flush on his cheeks and neck, his ears red and his eyes hazy.

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby boy?” he asks, voice gentle, reaching forward.

Peter looks conflicted and guilty, the flush from earlier dissipating to leave a troubled look which Wade instantly dislikes. “’M sorry,” he mumbles, “not in the mood.”

“You’re hard,” Wade comments. “Not that it matters!” he adds hastily, getting increasingly worried at Peter’s distress, at the way a flash of fear passes in those brown eyes when Wade had mentioned the state of his dick. The warning bells that rang before are full blown in Wade’s head, the voices edging them on as well. Something alarming, something ugly festering inside of him.

“Hey, hey,” he grabs Peter by the shoulders, forcing the boy to look at him in the eye. “Look, we don’t have to do anything extreme, now calm down alright? You’re safe.”

Peter’s brows furrow. “‘Of course I’m safe,” he says, and he shakes himself away from Wade’s arms, and crosses his own. “I’m not scared, Wade. Never. I’ll never be scared of you.” He rolls his eyes at the thought, reaching out to punch him lightly. “You big oaf!”

Wade relaxes, shifting closer again and allowing Peter to snuggle back into him, running a hand through Peter’s spine. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweet thing,” he says into the brown hair he buries his face into. “You know I can’t keep ignoring it. I totally get not wanting to bang Freddy Kruger, but you seem so enthusiastic and then the next second—”

“Wait,” Peter states, pulling away—again, Wade is going to super glue this brat to his side or so help him God— “you think I don’t want to have sex with you?”

“Baby boy, I added two and two together. Got five, obviously. You’ve been refusing to go further, and I totes respect it.” Wade scratches the back of Peter’s ear like a cat, making the boy struggle with paying attention to what he’s saying. “I pieced it together. Super glued. Connected the dots. et cetera.”

“Wade!” Peter exclaims. “Oh my God, you’ve got it all wrong!” He sits up, and with lightning reflexes, plops himself down on Wade’s lap, thighs spread between Wade’s waist. He grabs the man’s face with both hands, and plants a big fat kiss on his lips. “I do want to… you know, have sex.” He whispers the last word.

Planting his hands on either side of Pete’s trim waist, Wade edges him on. “But…?”

Face scrunching up, Peter once again looks distressed, his nose doing the little twitching thing it does when his lips turn into a frown. Wade leans forward and kisses his nose. Then his cheeks. Then his lips. “Tell me, baby boy.”

Peter drops his head onto Wade’s shoulder, hiding himself. “You’ll think I’m weird,” he says, voice muffled and miserable. Wade thinks this statement is utterly fucking ridiculous. He voices it out loud.

Peter just squirms around his lap, until he heaves a deep sigh and looks up. “I have this condition.”

Wade freezes, thoughts going haywire, the voices reaching the darkest conclusions. “...an illness, Petey?”

“No. It’s from the, uhhh, bite, I guess,” Peter replies, his tone quiet and dejected. The bite? Wade thinks. And then, Oh. obviously. The spider bite.

“Did the bite do something to your lower region? Do spiders reproduce asexually? Is that a thing? I wonder if this author did actual research on spiders or is just writing whatever the fuck he wants—”

“Wade!” Peter whines into his shoulder. “I’m serious! I don’t want you to think I’m weird.”

“There it is again. Sweetheart, between the two of us, nothing is normal in this relationship.”

Peter mumbles something that’s so muffled Wade doesn’t understand it. “What’s that, Petey? A little louder, love.”

“I said,” Peter says louder, looking up, “I get more spider traits when I’m near orgasm.”

Wade pauses, processing this. “Okay, so. Is that like, suddenly growing eight legs and eyes in bed type trait orrrr…”

“Ew, babe, what the fuck,” Peter laughs, and Wade grins in return, happy to see him relaxed and laughing again.

“Let’s not discriminate there Petey-pie, I’m sure there’s a Peter out there in the multiverse who does exactly that.”

“Well, I’m not him. I just produce venom from my mouth and succumb to spider instincts.”

“You—Sorry, didn’t catch that right. You produce what?”

Peter sighs, his pretty face pushed back into Wade’s collarbone. “I start producing this venom from my fangs, which grow when I’m about to uh, cum. And I get these…” He shudders. “Instincts to do things that spiders do.”

“Spider instincts… fangs… venom…” Wade echoes, and Peter nods miserably into his shoulder. “Aw, babe, why so blue? This is so much better than you saying you find me too ugly to fuck! This is just some cute additional stuff we gotta sort out in bed, no problemo, sweet thing!”

“Wha—Wade, you were never the problem. It’s one of those “it’s not you, it’s me” situations!” Peter punches Wade’s side. “And did you not hear what I just said? I produce venom. I become some freak that could kill you. Those aren’t stuff which we can just sort out, are you out of your mind?”

“Alright take it slow, so you produce venom which I can’t die from, obviously. And what else? Elaborate on the instincts here. What’s next? Radioactive cum?”

Peter stiffens in his hold, making Wade’s eyes grow wide. No fucking way.

“So you have a spider cock that makes poisonous cum? What poor soul made you realize it? Death by radioactive spidey cum and probably dumped in the Hudson… What a way to go...”

“What? Wade, holy shit, I didn’t kill anyone! And I don’t know if my cum is… like that. I hate this conversation.”

“Then how do you know about the venom?” Wade asks.

Peter opens his mouth, licks those pretty lips, and closes it. “I um, you know,” he tilts his head, a red flush blooming in his cheeks. “Masturbated before?” he whispers out the word, and then he’s back to hiding on Wade’s shoulder.

“Pete, my love, if we wanna go somewhere with this, you need to mentally graduate middle school first.”

“Shut up!” Peter groans, looking up. “Everytime I tried masturbating after the bite, I got scared when I started to.. you know, do the thing.”

Wade nods slowly, a realization dawning. “So you’ve never… with someone else..?”

Peter’s face is bright red, and it’s totally fucking adorable. Even his ears are a crimson shade, his fists clutching Wade’s t-shirt. It’s confirmation enough.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus, you’re a virgin!” Wade yells, making Peter flinch.

“Well it’s not like I can have sex when my own orgasm scares me, can I? I don’t want to risk… killing someone for a stupid orgasm!”

“This is cruel. This is inhuman. You’ve doomed yourself to a life of celibacy because you’re too pure to kill someone over a good nut!” Wade moans, and then the sheer ridiculousness of it crashes into him, and he hugs Peter to his chest, laughing into the crook of a pale visible neck. “You’re so fucking cute.”

“Did you not hear anything I just said?”

“Yes and that’s not a problem!”

“How the fuck is that not a problem?”

“Baby boy, I can’t die. You know that. You can bite me all you want—”

“No. Hard no. I’m not risking that. I don’t want to kill you.”

“You won’t. And it’s just a bite, babe, I can handle you when you’re all horny spider on me.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“C’mon, gimme some credit here, sweetheart. You think I can’t handle one horny little spider? Scouts Honor, I’ll keep you under control.”

“And what if I succumb to my instincts?”

Wade shrugs. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I’d bite you, inject the venom into you and paralyse you, then cocoon you in my web and keep you there till my instincts go away. I might even get the instinct to… to eat you and that terrifies me to no end.”

Wade takes a few seconds to think of a cohesive response. The last thing he needs is a panicked Peter, so he shouldn’t act too repulsed and terrified, which he honestly is not. If anything, he feels a little aroused, but he didn’t vocalize that either. Def not the time.

“Okay, you don’t want to do that. I understand. So trust me when I say I’ll keep you under control.”

Peter fidgets on Wade’s lap, a conflicted look on his face. It’s obvious he wants to say yes, but, bless him, he’s paranoid he’s going to hurt Wade. It’s so disgustingly sweet.

“Pete, baby, I promise I’ll take care of you.” Wade says, no hint of humor in his voice.

Peter takes a deep breath. “I trust you,” he admits. “I just don’t trust me.”

“Okay, understandable. And you don’t have to do this. Your choice, alright? If you wanna go forever without sex, then fine! If you want me to fuck you senseless and then let you tie me up and keep me in your little web, also fine!”

He didn’t miss the way Peter’s pupils dilated and the way he licked his lips at the mention of fucking. Except the ball is now on Peter’s side of the court. He’s said what he said, and it’s Pete’s turn to give a response.

A few minutes of silence and cuddling later, Peter finally moves around. “Okay,” he whispers. “Give me a few days?”

“Take all the time in the world, baby boy.”

A few days turned out to be almost three weeks, but Wade didn’t comment on that. In fact, he’s kept his mouth shut and all his advances are non-sexual. Kissing and cuddling and hand-holding is about everything he’s kept himself limited to. Patrol stays smooth, filled with petty crime, and Peter’s college workload keeps him occupied for a good chunk of their time. Wade himself is kept busy with different recon jobs and other non-fatal missions he’s taking.

All in all, they’re back to normal. Wade could almost believe his Peter goes feral during sex conversation was made up and he had hallucinated the whole thing.

Until one day he comes home to Peter unpacking a box in the living room, sitting on the couch.

“Oooh, baby boy, whatcha got over there? I haven’t ordered anything in a while!” He strolls over to the other side, watching Peter take out the last of the wrapping and pull out—

“Holy shit! Pete, what the fuck!”

“What?” Peter asks casually, placing the metal handcuffs and gag on the couch, inspecting them, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Wha—Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Am I in some shitty BDSM fanfic for real? Why the hell would you order this? Go back to being a blushing virgin.”

A slight redness forms in Pete’s cheeks. “This isn’t for—for that.”

“Well? Enlighten me, then?” Wade grins cheekily.

Peter scrunches his nose, grimacing. “Please don’t quote Fifty Shades. Ew.”

“No quoting trash movies, no singing songs from different franchises, what’s next? No quoting the comics?”

Peter ignores him, then picks up the handcuffs by the chain. The cuffs hit each other and make a clicking sound. “These are pure Vibranium handcuffs. I won’t be able to break out of these,” he remarks, and proves it by tugging at the ends, with a good amount of super strength. Nothing happens.

“Sweet. Now where the hell did you get those?”

Peter shrugs. “I’m mutuals with Shuri on Twitter.”

“You told the princess of Wakanda you want to be tied up in bed?”

“No, I told my online bestie.”

“Oh, of course Twitter is the perfect place to tell people you wanna be tied up and gagged.”

“She owes me one anyway, after I stole some high level Stark tech for her just to see if outside tech is compatible with these nanobots she’s making.”

“Yeah, okay, nerd. So you’re fine with stealing fucking Stark tech for your “online bestie” but when I blow up a facility it’s suddenly not fine.”

“Those… are not the same thing.”

“Minor differences,” Wade waves his arms, pointing at the gag. “And what about that?”

“Also for me.”

“Oh em gee! I feel like Christmas came early.”

Peter sighs. “If I… try something, I want—no, I need you to restrain me. Cuff me. And if I try to bite you too hard, gag me.”

“Only when that happens? What if I just want to gag you when you get bratty with me?”

Peter flushes a sweet red, rolling his eyes. “We can try that another time.”

“We’ll have another time?! Baby boy, you’re a gift!”

“Only if the first time goes well,” Peter reminds him. He then hands Wade a silver shiny key, and proceeds to cuff himself. He shakes his hands a little, adjusting to the cuffs. Then he pulls them apart, his wrists cutting into the metal at the end, with a significant amount of strength. Nothing happens. He tugs again, till his fists turn a pretty shade of red. Still, nothing happens. He grins up at Wade, albeit shakily. There’s an edge of anxiety in his form that makes Wade frown.

“Something wrong, Petey?”

“Oh, nothing. Just, um, scary I guess. Knowing I can’t break out of them.”

“Pete, I’m not gonna cuff you with these in bed if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“But you have to if I try to kill you!”

“What part of I won’t die permanently do you not get, Petey pie?”

“And what part of I still don’t want to fucking kill you do you not get?” Peter snaps. Wade doesn’t respond to that, instead focusing on the pale hands still cuffed in front of him. He sits down next to Peter on the couch.

He takes the cuffs carefully into his hands, using the key to unlock them. Taking them off, he brings Peter’s hands up to his face, kissing the soft skin. He turns them around to lick at the spinneret, then pressing a wet kiss on it.

“Okay,” he says, pressing kisses on the slit. “I promise I won’t let you hurt me. Fatally.”

“You never break your promises.”

“Never, baby boy.” He licks another strip along the little slit at Peter’s wrist, making Peter release a cute whine. “You have my word.”

He looks up to Peter looking dazed and flushed. He’s gorgeous. “Tonight, then?” Peter asks weakly, obviously aroused.

Wade smiles, leaning forward to press a final kiss on his forehead. “Someone’s excited. That makes two of us.”

Peter’s already dried and laying in bed by the time Wade comes out of the shower. The cuffs and gag are placed neatly at the bedside table, an arms length away, easy to reach and grab. They had tested the gag on Peter as well, which Peter tried to open on his own and couldn’t, but he didn’t look or sound nervous the way he did with the cuffs. In fact, with the way his eyes looked hazy when he wore it, Wade is quite sure he liked it. Wade still can’t believe Peter got them both made from Vibranium all because he didn’t want to risk hurting Wade. He feels touched. Loved.

“Well, if this isn’t the sweetest sight to ever grace my eyes,” he remarks, not taking his eyes off the laid out form. Peter’s beautiful, as usual. His arms are over his bare stomach, lightly touching his defined abs. His skin smooth, patches of scars in a few places where knives have graced a little too deep. His eyes, doe-like and brown and staring up at him with so much fucking trust, Wade could just die (if he could).

Wade gets to a comfortable position, bracketing Pete’s thighs with his, looming over his boyfriend. He then leans down to kiss at the exposed skin at the collarbone. He tastes sweet, like the bodywash they share. He licks and nips, holding Pete close, gentle and loving. He hears a sharp intake of air above him.

“I trust you,” Peter says.

“And I trust you,” Wade reminds him, moving up to pepper Peter’s face with kisses. “This trust? It goes both ways, baby boy. You trust me to take care of you, I trust you to tell me if you don’t want this. At any time. Coolio?”

“Yeah,” Peter breathes.

Wade goes back to pressing kisses, biting soft skin, letting his scarred hands run all over Peter’s naked skin, leaving deep red marks all over. Peter’s skin is so sensitive, so easy to mark, so easy to bruise. He hears soft panting, and smiles to himself. His Petey makes the loveliest noises, so high and desperate. His hands travel down to grab a thin, strong waist, large enough that his thumbs almost touch at Pete’s belly button. Pete, who’s been tracking his movements with his eyes the whole time, seems to notice this too, which makes him let out a small whimper, and let his head drop to the pillow.

“Relax,” Wade murmurs, drawing circles at Peter’s hip. Peter’s arms are grasping the sheets below him, muscles flexing. He’ll most likely tear some good bedsheets tonight, if he keeps this up.

He goes down till he comes face to face with Peter’s dick, half hard, twitching, pretty and red. There’s a fine amount of hair at the top, but Peter shaves his body so it’s easier to wear spandex, so it’s mostly hairless everywhere else. Pressing a sweet kiss at the top, he drags his tongue down till it reaches the tip.

“W-Wade..”

“Relax, sweet thing,” he repeats.

He brings both down his hands to grip Peter from behind, feeling up his ass, the soft flesh so easy to squeeze. He feels a hand grip his head.

“D-don’t suck, please,” Peter begs, his eyes glossy and nose tinged red. Already? Well, Wade thinks, he’s not been orgasming for a while, so he’s bound to be sensitive. Doubled too with the enhanced mutation.

“As you wish,” he says, pressing more kisses on Peter’s pretty dick, but not taking it into his mouth, no matter how much he wants to. “We can try that another time, right, sweet thing?”

“Yeah..” Peter already sounds so wrecked. With just a few touches and bites and squeezes. He’s yet to show any animalistic trait, or grow fangs like some vampire and start draining Wade’s blood or some shit. Wade snickers as he coats his fingers with lube, keeping the packet next to Pete’s hip at the bed. Since Peter doesn’t want too much stimulation on his dick, he moves to snatch a shaking arm with his free hand. Circling Peter’s rim with lubed fingers, he begins to lick and bite at the slit on Peter’s wrist.

Peter cries out, almost arching his back with the force he uses to press his head into the pillow. Breathy pants and little whines bubble out of him so easily, and Wade slowly inserts a finger. It’s relatively easy to slide it in, and Wade did have suspicions Peter probably tried some of his own fingers in the shower because everything related to sex makes him anxious. Right now, he chooses to continue his spinneret play, drawing out the most delicious little noises from the boy underneath. His one finger becomes two, thrusting in and out easily.

Peter’s pants get breathier and higher, and soon he’s panting for more, little please, Wade’s and more, more! tumbling out of his pretty lips, bitten red. His hips thrusting down to meet Wade’s fingers eagerly, his dick now rock hard. Wade inserts the third finger the same time he lets his tongue lick through the slit on Pete’s wrist, making Peter release a small howl and tear up. He closes his eyes and pants. There’s saliva collecting at the corners of his mouth.

Wade continues to finger his boy open, murmuring little praises. Whispering “you’re doing so good, sweetheart,” and “taking my fingers so well, look at you, so gorgeous, all laid out for me.” Peter would keen and whimper and flush all over at every word, squirming beneath him.

When he hits the spot inside Peter with a quick thrust, his three fingers scissoring Peter’s hole, stretching it, the boy’s eyes snap open.

“Holy shit!” Wade yelps. The pupils in Peter’s eyes have dilated to almost nothing. There’s a strange glint shining within them that makes him look both ethereal and lethal, the eye being rimmed red emphasizing it. Wade doesn't stop fingering Pete, but he lowers himself down a little, and presses another kiss on Pete’s spinneret. The reaction is instant.

Peter opens his mouth and hisses. Then he immediately whimpers and looks away. “Wade..”

“Hush, shh,” Wade coos, traveling down to press kisses all over Peter’s face, his finger rubbing and pressing on the slit of Pete’s wrist, his other fingers stretching him open still. “You’re doing so well, baby boy, so fucking well. Don’t hide from me.”

“Wade…” Peter says once again, his face smashed into the pillow, his face no longer visible. Wade doesn’t like that, releasing the wrist to gently grasp Pete’s chin and make him look up. There’s a wet spot on the pillow where Peter had his face smashed in. For one, fear-filled second, Wade thinks Peter started crying. Then he realizes there’s a liquid dripping from Peter’s mouth. His eyes snap up and take in the heaving, blushing face.

The two canines at the side of Pete’s lovely mouth have elongated, sharpened. With his mouth parted as he panted, trails of a liquid slightly whiter than normal saliva drip from the newfound fangs. The fangs, which are only about an inch long, small and cute, but sharp and deadly, just like Peter. The venom it’s secreting slips through the corners of Peter’s mouth, but he sucks it back in and swallows. There are tears beginning to form in his eyes. Some spill over.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Wade says, kissing away the tears before they have a chance to reach the bottom of Pete’s chin. “Holy shit, Petey, you’re gorgeous, your little fangs are adorable, my love.”

Peter lets out a choked sob, saliva and venom mixing to create a steady stream of liquid to drip from his mouth. Wade takes the edge of the pillowcase and wipes away most of it.

“When are you going to fuck me?” Peter asks, voice breaking, when Wade is done.

“Why, can’t handle my fingers any longer?” Wade teases, emphasizing his point by thrusting rougher, stretching wider. The lewd squelching noises make Peter blush, but the continous fucking is making his eyes glaze over again, taking him under. Soon, Peter’s panting again, baring his sharp little fangs at Wade, even going as far as to hiss at him.

“You’re so fucking cute, even with three fingers up your ass and literally spitting out poison,” Wade sighs, “that sounded more romantic in my head.”

“Fuck me,” Peter demands.

“Oooh, baby boy’s got fangs.” Literally.

“Wade,” Peter grits out, slurping up venom and saliva, “Wade, enough!”

“Nuh-uh!” Wade ignores his own dick throbbing to be in Peter. He has loads of self control when it comes to poor Wade Jr.

“WADE!” Peter screams, and his eyes go full black for a second, before he lets out another hiss, and he once again bares his fangs, his nails digging into Wade’s arms.

At the next thrust to Peter’s prostate, Peter lets out a growl which—finally—sounds animalistic, and before Wade can even comprehend what’s happening, Peter springs into action. He leaps up, grabbing Wade’s shoulders and forcefully wrenching his fingers out of his hole and pushing him down onto the bed.

“Holy fucking shit,” Wade breathes, staring up at the growling, salivating Peter. His pupils fully black, his fangs bared wide open, venom dripping down to Wade’s chest.

The next second, Peter’s lowering himself onto Wade’s length, taking him quickly inch by inch. Wade groans at the tightness, Peter feels so fucking good wrapped around him, he reaches up to grab Peter’s hips, and thrusts upwards the moment Peter is seated. Peter howls at the same time Wade moans.

Peter stumbles forward into Wade’s chest, Wade bracketing him with his arms and thrusting his hips up to meet Peter’s ass, and Jesus Christ, is Peter the sweetest and sexiest thing he’s ever had. He can feel venom and saliva wetting his neck and chest, and Peter’s cries are high pitched and laced with arousal.

“Fuck.. fuck, Wade, oh my God,” he gasps, and he clutches Wade’s shoulders hard enough it could crack with just a little more force.

“Yeah, my little spider? You like that? Am I making you feel good?”

“Yeah, fuck yeah, you are, so good to me, God, breeding me so well…”

Wade almost loses the rhythm of his thrusts at Peter’s words, releasing a choked moan. Did Peter just say breeding? Is this the instinct thing he was talking about? Holy shit. Wade is so turned on he can barely fucking think. He’s got enough kinks to put about half the tags in AO3 to shame.

“Yeah? Want me to breed you, baby? Fuck little babies into you?” Should he have said eggs? Fuck.

“Yes, fuck, Wade, please, please!”

He flips them over, caging Peter once again, and begins a rough pace, both his hands reaching down to thumb at Peter’s spinnerets, pressing on them and massaging them. Peter genuinely starts crying then, and there’s so much fluid on his face, tears, venom and saliva, that he glistens. Peter’s a pretty crier. The wetness makes his cheek gleam and his lips pink and glossy, his eyes red and lovely, his lashes damp and long.

Soon enough, Peter snaps up to bite him. Wade’s sharp reflexes make him dodge easily, but an average person would have probably gotten his throat bitten out. Peter makes a high growling sound at the back of his throat, his eyes blazing with an intense fire. He pushes his head for momentum and snaps up again, and Wade finds himself dodging one more time. Peter going feral means one thing: he’s about to orgasm.

“Alright, Petey pie,” he says, grabbing Pete’s sexy long legs and bending them forward, making the knees touch his shoulders. Forcing Peter down by holding the boy’s hands onto his shoulders, he plays with the spinnerets as he begins to fasten his pace. The stimulation temporarily makes Peter forget his instinct to bite, crying and moaning as he drips venom down his neck.

“My feisty sweet thing, my favorite spider in the whole wide world, you’re so lovely like this, my feral baby boy,” Wade murmurs, and he feels his orgasm closing in, so he takes one hand down to grab Peter’s dick. Peter’s too gone to form words anymore, making high pitched cries and whimpers and low hissing noises and growls.

When they orgasm, it’s only a few seconds apart.

Wade doesn’t have much time to recover before he’s flipped again onto his back. Before he even takes a moment to adjust, his hand moves out into the table to snatch the metal gag. He looks up to see Peter on his lap, growling again, like a fucking possessed chihuahua. There’s cum splattered between their stomachs, venom dripping into it. By now Wade’s sure Peter’s produced enough venom to kill an entire elephant pack.

“Baby, I’m putting the gag on you now, because my Petey doesn’t want to bite me, and I gotta respect that, kay?” He waits for Peter to strike, and when the boy moves down with another cute hiss, his sharp little fangs bared, Wade stuffs the metal gag into his mouth, reaching up to quickly clasp it tight. Peter lets out an alarmed whine, already drooling through the gag, but doesn’f fight it as much as Wade expected him to.

But he still couldn’t bear watching the tears reform in Pete’s eyes and spill over. The poor thing is whimpering, staring up at him with weepy eyes.

“You did so good, baby boy,” he whispers, finally raising a hand to cup a damp cheek. Peter hisses and growls from his throat, but still leans into the touch. “So perfect.”

He brings Peter down to rest the boy on his chest, feeling it get wet with tears and venom and saliva.

“But you were right. No normal person could have survived that.” He shifts to pat Peter’s hair. There, there. “But that makes us super duper compatible. A perfect zodiac match. 100% Tinder matched. The INFP to my ENTP.”

He stiffens when he feels a sticky feeling on his naked chest. He looks down to see Peter creating a web with his spinnerets, slowly creating a nest, a cocoon on their bed. He’s still dripping venom.

“Hm, well. This won’t lead to any fatalities,” Wade says, watching his little spider weave web after web from his wrists, making the white cocoon large enough that soon it’s encompassing Wade’s entire 6”2 frame. Peter silently continues to make it bigger and softer, until it covers them both. He makes little chittering noises from the back of his throat, still whimpering and crying, as he does this, and Wade feels so endeared he could cry. Then he curls up on Wade’s chest, still gagged, still dripping, wet eyes still a deep black.

As they drift away into sleep, with Peter secure in Wade’s arms, Wade can’t help but let the warmth spread through his chest. Peter loves him. It’s evident in all his actions.

When Wade opens his eyes, it’s to the sound of ripping webs and his shoulders being shaken. He yawns out loud, and looks up, and it’s to Peter’s panicked face. Peter. His Peter. Normal, brown and doe-eyed Peter with cute non-lethal teeth and no venom. Though from the stickiness he feels on his chest, there’s plenty of venom, and other fluids everywhere on their skin. And also the gag in Peter’s mouth.

“Mmmphn!!!!” Peter whines, and Wade laughs.

“I quite prefer you this,” he says, moving to towards the drawer to fish the key out. He unlocks the gag and it falls out with an wet splat, followed by quite a big amount of venom and saliva. Their bed is wet almost everywhere, and they only now notice that some of the bedsheets have ripped. He taps Peter’s cheek softly. Peter blushes a dark red.

“Wade,” he mumbles, and wow, his voice wrecked from screaming and growling and getting fucked is a sound Wade is already falling in love with. “Did I hurt you?”

Wade can’t stop the snort of amusement from escaping. “With those tiny little things you call fangs? It would tickle me at most, baby. The only reason I didn’t let you bite me is because you didn’t want to. Also because we don’t know what it could do.”

“Hmm,” Peter hums, massaging his jaw. He’s looking around at the mess in the sheet with a sweet flush. “Maybe I should take a sample and test it.”

“Here comes the fucking scientist. I prefer Feral Horny Petey begging to be bred.”

“I did not!” Peter splutters, his face red to the ears. “That was the spider talking!”

“Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.”

Peter makes another choking noise and brings a hand up to hide his face. Wade scoots forward to press a kiss into his damp hair. Then he traces the dried cum on Peter’s stomach.

“See? No radioactive cum. That’s another universe, baby.”

Peter peeks out from between two fingers. “Yeah.” He looks at Wade, his face splitting into a full toothy grin that makes Wade’s mind and heart feel like unicorns and sunshine. “That was amazing. I… um,” he looks up shyly. “I’d love to do it again.”

“And if those aren’t the magic words,” Wade sings. “I’d be honored.” He watches Peter wince as he gets out of bed, his pale body littered with red patches, which would probably heal in a few hours.

“I can’t believe you’ve been denying yourself this for so long. Do you know what that means?”

“What?” Peter asks, making his way to the washroom.

“A lot of catching up to do, baby boy!”

“Keep trying and maybe one day I’ll let you use the cuffs!” Peter calls out, before shutting the bathroom door, leaving Wade to grin like an idiot in the mess they made on their own bed.

The future is bright and kinky.

Notes:

Peter forms fangs which secrete venom when he’s about to cum, and tries to bite Wade and inject him with it. wade restrains him by gagging him with a metal gag. then peter makes a tiny web for them to sleep in. peter also has spinnerets in this.

peter: i could /kill/ u!!!!

wade: ok

peter, during sex: *hiss* *tiny fangs* 😠

wade: this could kill me. with its cuteness.

i didn’t put much thought into why peter has these traits i just wrote this shit in 24 hours 😭

i guess this is the part in the authors note where i say haha guys i’m actually scared of spiders irl but like. they don’t. they’re chill.

anyway, hope you enjoyed this!! i’d appreciate kudos and comments ^___^!!!!

#ao3 #spideypool