Chapter Text
Although they'd spent that night watching kinky porn and having delightfully memorable sex, it still took the better part of a week before either of them broached the topic of their newfound sadomasochistic tendencies.
Which didn't mean that Wade didn't think about them. A lot. Often at inopportune times.
Like when he was in the middle of unaliving some cock-nozzle and realized that if he adjusted his technique just so he could have Peter gasping and crying out.
And thinking about fucking Peter when he was in the middle of killing someone was bad for so, so many reasons.
It was a good thing that Peter was used to him coming home from jobs hard enough to pound nails. And despite Peter's attempts to dissuade Wade from killing, he definitely didn't complain about the mind-blowing sex (Peter's words, not his) that usually followed.
Peter was the one who finally brought the topic back up. They'd finished dinner and Peter was curled up on the couch, leaning with his back against Wade's side as he studied.
“Hey, Babe, I have a question,” Peter announced, closing his textbook and setting it on the coffee table.
“I have an answer,” Wade replied, glancing up from his phone.
“You already bite me.”
“That's not a question,” Wade started before he finished processing what Peter had said. “I…. What?”
“Yeah, I.” Peter cleared his throat. “You already bite me and stuff, and I was wondering how that's different from what you mentioned the other day.”
Wade grinned and freed his arm so that he could wrap it around Peter's chest. “Want to find out?” He purred.
“Wade.” Peter pulled free from his hold and turned to frown at him. “What happened to talking about things?”
A rush of warmth flooded Wade's chest. “Of course, Honeybunch. We'll talk about things first.”
“Ok.” He watched Peter take a deep breath. “So, how is it different?”
Wade leaned sideways onto the back of the couch as he considered how he wanted to answer. “Usually,” he started, “when I bite you, we're doing something else, too. Making out, or fucking.”
Peter nodded his understanding.
“What I suggested the other day… Biting would be the focus, instead. It's what we'd be doing.”
“Right, ok,” Peter scratched at the back of his neck. “What, if, um. What if I don't like it?”
“Then we stop.”
“That's it?” He blinked in surprise.
“Of course that's it. I'm not interesting in doing anything you don't want to do.”
Wade took in Peter's relieved but not quite relaxed state.
“And on that note, we need to establish a safeword for you.”
Peter quirked an eyebrow at him. “You think you're going to do something I can't handle?”
“Peter,” Wade cut across his flippant tone. “That's not a challenge . What we're talking about... I'm going to be hurting you.”
“I know,” Peter interrupted. “And I trust you.”
“Good. Then trust me when I say that this is necessary. I'm going to be paying close attention to you, but I'm not a mind-reader. And this is new for me, too. I need to be able to trust that you'll let me know if something goes too far.
“If you go too far, I'll just tell you,” he argued.
“And for some things, that might work. But at a certain point, “no” becomes reflexive. You might say it without actually meaning that you want me to stop.”
Peter's eyes widened and Wade realized for all Peter might have fantasized about this, he hadn't actually thought about the reality of it.
But then his expression sharpened and Wade could see his spider's unending need to be contrary rearing up. “I think I know what “stop” means.”
Wade huffed. “Alright, kiddo, go get your laptop.”
“What? Why?”
“Required reading. Now scoot.”
Peter scoffed. “You're making me do homework for sex?”
Wade grinned at Peter's affronted expression. “Who said anything about sex?”
“What? Isn't all this pain stuff a sex thing?”
He nudged at Peter's side until he finally stood up. “Do you want it to be a sex thing?”
Peter grumbled as he padded otherwise noiselessly across the room. “I mean, I guess so? Since I already assumed it was?”
He returned with his laptop and typed in the password. “Fine, what are we reading?”
“I want you to type in, “What is a safeword?””
“I know what a safeword is, Wade.”
“Maybe, but if you actually understood it, you wouldn't be fuckin’ arguing with me about it. So, type.”
“Fine. ‘A word serving as a prearranged and unambiguous signal to end an activity, such as between a dominant and submissive sexual couple.’ Happy?”
“Click the next link.”
Peter paused and glanced over at him. “You wanna trust Urban Dictionary?”
Wade reached over and clicked on the link for him.
“A safeword concerns BDSM sexual acts. In BDSM, begging to stop can increase pleasure and realism for some couples. A safeword is used to actually mean "stop", since screams for stop aren't always sincere.” Wade read.
Peter stared at the screen for a few moments, scrolling down and reading the other definitions users had submitted.
“Are you, um,” Peter swallowed and his thumb traced over the skidpad, sending the cursor spinning into circles and figure eights. “Are you planning on doing anything that'll make me need a safeword?”
“That's not the goal, no,” Wade said softly, reaching out and cradling Peter's free hand. “I'm never going to try to push you that far. But that doesn't mean it might not happen.”
“Didn't you say something the other day about finding my limits and…” He shrugged.
“I did. But that's something different. Safewords call the scene to a halt. For any reason. Finding your limits and all that? That's for the future. Months from now. Once we know these parts of ourselves and each other a whole lot better.”
When Peter didn't respond for another several long moments, Wade squeezed his hand. “Hey, you ok? We can forget the whole thing if you want, Sweetie.”
“Huh? Oh, no, I was just trying to think of a word that I'd remember that wouldn't be likely to come up in the bedroom.”
Wade chuckled. “Yeah? What have you come up with?”
“Uh, banana and unicorn were both on some lists, but I can totally see those coming up.”
He shrugged. Yeah, Wade could see those coming up, too. “Traffic lights?”
“No, we talk about the color red too much.” Peter kept scrolling down the list, looking for ideas. “What about mango? I don't think either of us have ever said that in front of each other.”
“Which is really a shame because mangos are delicious. We should get some next time we're at the store. I know how to make this great mango salsa and—”
“Babe. You're the one who brought this up. Focus a little.”
“Sorry. I’m cool with mango, if you think you'll remember it.”
Peter sighed and tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
“So, should we—? I mean, we should talk about this whole biting me thing some more, right? Like, aside from the obvious, what does that mean? What do you want to do to me?”
Pride squeezed Wade's chest and he couldn't resist pulling Peter into a tight hug. “That's such a good question, Petey-pie,” he praised.
“Ack, if you're going to do that, warn me so I don't drop my computer,” Peter complained.
He loosened his grip long enough for Peter to set his laptop down on his textbook before gathering him in his arms again.
“I'll be honest. What I'd really like to do is probably unrealistic.”
“Yeah?” Peter asked, shifting until he was more comfortable in Wade's arms, pressing his back against Wade's chest. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, I meant it when I said I wanted to cover you up with bruises. Bite every bit of skin I can reach until you're completely mine. ”
Peter swallowed. “I… I like the idea of that.”
Wade grinned and licked at Peter's neck. “We can make an effort, if you want. But with your healing factor, I don't think any marks I make will last very long.”
“I still want to try.”
“Fuck.” Wade growled and nipped at the skin behind Peter's ear. “Do you have any idea how hard I'd have to bite you for that?”
Peter tilted his head to the side in invitation. “You've left hickies on me before.”
“Yeah, and how long did they last?”
“I don't know.” Peter pressed his neck back towards Wade's mouth. “30 minutes?”
“Maybe I want something that'll last longer than that,” he murmured, before continuing to lick at the exposed skin until Peter was twitching impatiently.
“C'mon, stop teasing me,” he whined.
“Not teasing you, Baby Boy. I just to take my time and ease you into this.”
“I don't need to be eased,” Peter complained. “I've been thinking about this for days, I need you to fucking bite me.”
Wade chuckled and let his teeth graze over his skin. “Ask nicely.”
“Are you fucking—” Peter took a deep breath to cut himself off. “ Please, Wade. Please do what we've both been fantasising about for a Goddamned week and bite me already.”
He had to rest his forehead against Peter's hair as he shook with the force of his laughter. “That wasn't nicely , Petey.”
“It's as nice as I can manage. Pretty please?” He tried again.
Wade relented and tightened his hold around his spider. He started a trail of hot wet kisses down Peter's neck, stopping when he reached his shirt. Then he started sucking and finally let his teeth catch some skin between them.
He wanted to be careful and methodical about this. But Peter's soft little, “Oh,” also made him want to hold on tight and really bite down. But he restrained himself and instead slowly made his way up and down Peter's neck, biting just a bit harder each time.
“Feels good,” Peter whispered when he pulled away. “Why'd you stop?”
“Because I ran out of room.”
Peter immediately wiggled in his grasp and tilted his head to the other side, exposing a whole new blank canvas.
But Wade didn't miss the wince that accompanied the movement. “You doing ok?”
“Yeah. Holding my head like this hurts a little. But in a nice way.”
Wade hummed and started his work on the other side. After a couple of minutes he finally bit down hard enough to draw out an aborted sound from Peter. When he did it again he saw Peter's hand drifting to his mouth to try to stifle the noises.
“Don't do that,” he requested. “I want to hear you.”
“It's embarrassing.” Peter muttered.
Embarrassing? Peter fucking Parker, who had never been silent for a minute of his waking life (and sometimes even when he was asleep)? Who had never shied away from gasping and moaning and letting Wade know exactly what he wanted in bed? Who was known for his constant stream of banter and quips while dressed in tight red spandex and kicking ass? He was embarrassed about making noise?
“Tell me why.”
Peter grumbled something that probably wasn't actually words. “Can't we just keep going?”
Wade kissed his shoulder. “Tell me why you're suddenly so shy and I'll make sure it's worth it,” he promised.
“Because…” Peter's hand dropped from his face and gripped Wade's arm. “Getting turned on by pain is still…”
Oh. Peter was still struggling through some inner conflict about this. “I understand,” Wade didn't make him finish the thought. “Do we need to slow down?”
“No. Fuck no. Please don't stop. Or slow down. I'm fine.” He was all but begging. “I just need to… to get used to it, that's all.”
He latched back on to Peter's neck and hummed. He could have said, “I told you so,”—and it was pretty tempting—but Peter seemed to have learned that lesson without him pushing the point.
Wade bit down gently again, knowing that even that brief break could be enough to turn his previous bites from pleasurable to too hard. And while that would certainly be a fun game to play at some point, this wasn't the time.
“Good job,” Wade praised as he nuzzled the darkening skin. “All done here.”
Peter let out a groan of protest. “Don't want to be done.”
“No?” Wade drifted a hand under Peter's shirt, stretching his fingers out over his stomach. “Then we're gonna have to do something about your clothes.”
“Ok,” Peter agreed quickly.
“You sure? Maybe I won't let you go until I'm really done,” he teased.
Peter wiggled free from Wade's hold and pulled his shirt over his head. “You'll stop if I ask.”
Wade grinned at the confidence with which Peter said that. It was true, of course, but more important, Peter knew it.
“Bedroom,” Wade growled, stalking after Peter and pulling off his own shirt in the process.
As soon as his clothes were off, Peter bounced into the bed at sat there watching Wade strip down as well.
“Actually going to be naked with me this time?”
“Obviously.”
Wade joined him on the bed and ran his fingers over the red marks on Peter's neck. “Should we take a picture?”
“You're terrible at taking pictures,” Peter teased even as he passed over his phone.
“Sorry that I don't do it professionally.”
As soon as the pictures were taken and Wade set Peter's phone back on the table, Peter lurched forward and pulled him into a kiss.
“So, you said everywhere? What does that translate to?”
“Everywhere you'll let me.”
Peter's face was flushed and he was smiling easily now. “Ok. Um. Maybe not my dick?”
“Maybe?”
“Definitely not my dick,” he corrected. “I… I can't think of anywhere else? But I'll let you know if I change my mind.”
He ran his fingers through Peter's hair, scratching affectionately at his scalp. “Good boy. We're learning today, so don't be shy about telling me anything you don't like.” He paused before adding, “Or anything you do like.”
“Yeah.” Peter nodded.
Wade was full of warm fluffy feelings as he coaxed Peter to lay down on his back. “Gonna start where we left off.” He nuzzled and licked at Peter's throat, grazing his teeth in a mock threat over his windpipe. He could feel it as Peter swallowed between his teeth.
He kissed a trail down Peter's chest until he captured his spider’s left nipple between his teeth. While he busied his mouth sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud, he brought his hand up to give Peter's other nipple attention as well. He pinched and rolled it between his fingers and Peter gasped and arched up into his touch.
Peter let out a small whine when he moved off of the darkened and abused flesh, so he dropped a quick apologetic kiss before trading his attention to his other nipple.
He listened to Peter's soft panting as he swirled his tongue before grazing his teeth against his skin. But when he brought his other hand up to pinch at his bitten nipple Peter jerked back and let out a choked off sound of dissent.
Wade paused immediately and shifted so he could properly look at Peter's face. “You ok, Baby?”
Peter turned his head, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. Yeah. It just hurt.”
“A not-fun kind of hurt?”
He was still refusing to meet Wade's eyes. “Sorry,” he whispered again.
“Hey, no.” Wade said firmly, crawling up so that he could kiss Peter's cheek. “I did something you didn't like and you told me. Never be sorry for that. That's exactly what I want—what I need—you to do.”
When Peter finally turned his head to look back at him, his pupils were wide with arousal but he still looked uncertain. Which, honestly, Wade thought was a fantastic look on him.
“Do we, um. Are we done now?”
“Do you want to be done, Pumpkin?”
“No! No. I want to keep going.”
“I'm glad,” Wade admitted. “I didn't really want to be done with you, yet.” He gave Peter a quick kiss on the nose before shuffling back down his body.
He let his breath ghost across Peter's ribs before attaching himself to the skin there and marveling at the way Peter's gasps gave way to whimpers and an occasional moan.
“Fuck,” Peter breathed when Wade's teeth dug into his abdomen. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Wade hummed his approval.
“Babe, I. Could you. Um.”
“Still not a mind-reader,” Wade teased, nipping at Peter's hip. “Use your words.”
“I want… Er, I think I want,” he corrected. “Harder?”
“You want me to bite you harder?”
Peter nodded. “Please?”
Wade tilted his head as if he had to fucking consider it. “Where?”
“Uh…” Peter's head dropped back against the bed. “I don't know. Dealer's choice? I just know that I want it to hurt.”
Wade growled in pleasure at Peter's admission. “You saying I haven't been hurting you yet?”
“No, you have. But… I can handle more.”
“You think so?” Wade asked, just to see Peter's eyes widen with nerves.
He pushed himself up so that he could straddle Peter's waist. “Give me your arm.”
“My arm?” Peter asked in evident confusion, even as he held his arm out obediently.
“Mmhmm,” Wade pulled Peter's arm across his body until he had easy access to the back of his upper arm. He dragged his nails across the skin there and Peter made a face at the sensation.
“There?” He squeaked.
“Only with your permission,” Wade said seriously.
Peter swallowed and probably rethought several of his life choices. But in the end he nodded firmly. “Go for it.”
“You are a Goddamned gift.”
Wade kissed the sensitive skin. He felt Peter's arm tense under his lips.
“Don't worry, I've got you, Baby Boy,” Wade promised.
When he finally got his teeth around Peter's arm, his small whine was nearly instant.
Peter was scared, he realized, or at least wary. But not enough to ask him to stop. Emboldened, Wade kept biting down fractionally harder, until finally— finally!— Peter cried out. Not a whimper or a gasp but an actual cry of pain.
Immediately he wanted nothing more than to earn that sound again and again, until Peter was hoarse and sobbing.
But even more than that, he wanted to be sure that Peter was ok.
“Jesus fuck, Wade,” Peter mumbled.
“Too much?”
“Not enough.” Peter emphasized his point by canting his hips and rubbing his leaking dick against Wade. “More like that,” he panted. “Make me scream.”
Wade had apparently done something good in his life to deserve Peter. He refused to think of any alternative explanations as he worked to fulfill Peter's request.
He was reverent as he bit down on every bit of Peter he could reach. His sweet, snarky, wonderful, perfect little masochistic lover squirmed and moaned under him. But he didn't actually scream until Wade swallowed his cock down and kept working it even after Peter had come.
Peter was sprawled out in the bed, covered beautifully with red and purple bruises and teeth marks. He didn't even complain when Wade grabbed his phone and snapped several quick pictures. He would probably complain about it later, though:
“I don't want pictures of my dick on my phone, Wade.”
Which was ridiculous, given that Peter had a gorgeous dick. And because Peter had once spent a weekend sending him increasingly lewd dick pics while he was out of town on a job.
He'd been so lost in thought at the memory that Peter managed to surprise him by sitting up and pulling the phone from his hand.
“Hi,” Peter said, pressing their foreheads together.
“Hey.”
“Did you forget about your own dick?”
Wade chuckled. “I definitely didn't, no.”
“Good.” Peter shifted and kissed him. “Because after that I definitely want to watch you come your brains out. Maybe a few times.”
His teasing, “Oooh,” was cut short by Peter shoving him onto his back and wrapping his lips around his cock.
“Oh fuck me,” Wade growled.
Peter pulled off and grinned mischievously. “In a few minutes.”
* * *
A few times turned out to be five , which Wade was pretty sure was a new record for them.
“So,” Peter whispered from where he had tucked himself up close against Wade and nudged at him until Wade had wrapped his arms and legs around him. “That was awesome.”
“Yeah?” Wade kissed the top of his head.
“Uh-huh. Definitely doing that again. A lot.”
Wade hummed his agreement. “You feel up to talking about it?”
“No. Sleep now. Talk tomorrow.”
“Mmkay. And I'll make you an extra yummy breakfast in the morning.”
“Pancakes?”
“Sure.”
“Chocolate chips?”
“Of course.”
He could feel Peter smile as he burrowed his face under Wade's arm.