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[ Oh, Wade absolutely made note of what his voice had done to Peter, but he'd have known it even if the guy hadn't voiced it. As soon as he started calling him 'baby boy' in person, the vibes changed. He might not have been the most observant person of all time, but even he caught onto that one. If that was all it was going to take to get into Peter's pants again? You're god damn right he would be taking advantage of it. He'd have to be a fool not to.

One of his hands wrapped around his dick, stroking it a few times with his slick fingers before pressing the tip up against him. The question was straight up ignored. Not that Wade wanted to be rude, just that he felt like it was fairly obvious that he was into what they were doing and didn't need to be checked up on. ]

Don't forget to breathe. [ He was fairly certain this wasn't Peter's first time, but who knew if he had ever had something quite so large stretching him to his limit. It was almost painful to move as slowly as he did, nudging the fat head of his cock past the stretched ring of muscle. Immediately he was cursing against Peter's neck, muscles straining with the control he needed to keep from slamming in the rest of the way. Was gonna be real hard to convince Peter to do this again if he hurt him.

Instead, he fed him inch by slow inch, watching the younger man's face to look for any signs of wavering. Both of his hands gripped at Peter's hips for something to hold onto. His own hips only stalled when he finally bottomed out inside Peter, and he forced himself to give him a second to adjust. Wade panted against his skin, doing what he could not to let the tight heat overwhelm him. Fuck, it was the best sensation he'd ever felt, pleasure flooding his veins and taking over his mind. ]

Mm, fuck. You're doing so good, baby boy. Taking me so well. [ His voice was still husky as he pulled nearly the entire way out, then pushed back into him more forcefully this time. More filthy curses slipped out of his mouth. ]

( he doesn't have experience with anyone wade's size so when he tells him to breathe, he does, despite the instincts that tell him to rebel. he sucks in a breath when he's told to, appreciating it somewhere in the back of his head when it lines up with wade pressing against him and then pushing in slowly. forcing him to exhale hard, rough, and with barely any breath in his lungs. he's dimly aware of the grumbled curses into his throat, how angry they are, how bad this is for wade (containing himself). and peter actually is dumb enough to bite off more than he can chew, so careful with the grumbling wade. if anything, his knees press in, locking, holding wade close and still, nostrils flaring, breathing raggedly against the side of his face.

it's when he draws his hips back and slams back in, making peter brace against him, intentionally or otherwise and he ends up just baring his teeth, feeling wade, enjoying it but also accepting that he's going to be overwhelmed by this experience, no matter how he reacts. and that's okay. he means to be relaxed for him, but the other half of him is too stubborn to just let wade fuck him. peter lets go of the wall to wrap his other arm around wade's shoulders, connecting them at his shoulders to take all of him. he groans, shudderingly, full-body, a little broken, gripping at the back of wade's neck.

sure, maybe, he kisses him. short and sweet, the cherry on the cake to trying to ride him and then burying his face in wade's collarbone. it's not something he has the angle or the leverage for, in spite of his damndest effort. )

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Keep going.

Edited (sometimes you write a tipsy tag and have to revise slightly ) 2024-08-23 11:48 (UTC)

[ He wanted to lose his mind, go completely feral and fuck Peter like he was nothing but an object to use for his own pleasure. But he held himself back, at least for now. Focused on the power behind each thrust rather than uping the speed.

It got a lot harder to have any control when Peter started fighting back, no content to just lay back and take it. Because it excited Wade, sparked that fucked up part of his brain that liked to blow shit up, stab his katana through flesh, handle powerful guns. Peter was no pillow princess and Wade appreciated it, wanted to voice how grateful he was. The sentence wouldn't form in his brain, he could only grunt out another curse. Still, he got turned on enough by his reaction that his cock throbbed inside the younger man. Fuck, it was almost too good. Had him panting against Peter's lips before he stole another kiss.

This was too addicting. Would never be enough. He'd end up chasing after Peter, begging for the same high. The grip he had on the guy's hips tightened as he fucked into him. The sound of their intimacy seemed to echo in the night. The slapping of skin, the squelch of lube, each drawn out groan. It was music to his ears. ]

Fuck, you're so tight. I'm gonna lose my fucking mind...

Edited (I'm dumb actually) 2024-08-23 17:57 (UTC)

( as an expert in not knowing what's good for himself, wade's self-discipline will be appreciated after the fact by peter, who's only now realizing the intensity of being bent in half like this as opposed to pressed over something from behind. there's no refrain, nowhere for peter to back up if he gets too overwhelmed. every time wade brought his hips forward and sunk in, peter felt all of him, to the point that sometimes the reaction was a breathless keen, soundless and sharp. he can't maintain words or eye contact, and has to avidly focus on reminding himself to suck down oxygen. that he's been reduced to a hard hhhh every time wade bottoms out is beyond his concern but he does reach between their midsections to close his fingers around his dick, to match wade's strokes a few times.

as a (previously) firm believer in, 'it's not the size, it's how you use it', there is no counterpoint to being so thick that he's hitting the right angle consecutively. )

Lose it for me. ( enunciated above his collarbone, somewhere in the junction between shoulder and neck, and peter closes his lips around scarred skin to suck and rake his teeth over a small patch, breaking blood vessels to at least look down smugly at a temporary purple mark that's likely going to disappear long before his own hickey. ) I don't want half.

( this is not kissing so much as talking against wade's mouth. )

Give me all of you. ( he tenses around him on purpose, muscles fluttering, and pants roughly, happy but strained. peter doesn't think of himself as someone with game, someone who can pull off seduction by any means. he still turns his low voice to wade's ear to clearly get out: ) Wade, if you're not dripping down my thighs when you pull out, I don't want it.

[ It's a dangerous game to play, telling Wade to lose his mind. Speaking to him with such a filthy mouth. It challenged his overwhelming desire to protect Peter, to make sure he didn't hurt him while they were at their most intimate.

The very idea of his come sliding down the inside of Peter's thighs was more than Wade could take, though, and he did end up losing himself. Used more of the power that muscles like his could afford, snapping his hips brutally and cursing against the younger man's mouth. Nothing more intelligent could be said by that point, even though he would have loved to use his mouth for something better for a change. He would have liked to tell Peter to mark him up even more, there was no reason not to when the marks wouldn't last long and Wade always found them hot. Or to taunt Peter about how Wade's cock had turned him into a slut pretty damn fast.

Alas, he was too caught up, had lost any sense of control. Pretty soon even cussing was beyond him and he just let out low pleasured groans and grunts, fully incapable of speech. Peter's tensing tightened the grip those muscles had around Wade's dick and it was too good to deny himself of it. He was a mindless beast chasing after pleasure, forcing Peter to take every inch of his girth over and over again without any mercy. Sweat drips down the side of his neck, skin tinting red from the exertion he used.

There was a tightness forming in his balls, a sign that he was quickly hurdling towards his end. But Wade was a stubborn bastard and was going to make sure Peter finished first. He was a gentleman like that, thank you very much. ]

( playing with fire is exciting for the thrill alone — the fear, the spike of dopamine, the fall. he's usually throwing himself at danger in other ways, like leaping into the fray against something the police can't handle (as if that somehow indicates he's qualified), but egging wade on with his teeth and some dirty talk isn't all that dissimilar. there's a very real threat of full-body exhaustion and soreness on the other side of this encounter, too. the cheeky, victorious grin is short-lived, breaks the second wade's hips snap forward hard and pound against him, transforming his sharp breath for a laugh into a strangled moan that catches roughly in his throat. he'd have some colorful language if he could catch his breath but since he can't, all he has between quick, stilted inhales are progressively more hoarse grunts.

his nails bite into the back of wade's neck harsher than he means for them to. they're blunt, bitten down, but he's not checking his strength anymore. he can apologize for the four scratch lines going down his shoulder later.

the relentless pace, how full wade feels inside him (jesus, this is his limit here) makes him fist his cock in his hand with more determination, quickening the pace to match (only pulling off a second to spit into his palm) and thumping his head back against the bricks because he can't fucking take any of it for much longer. his legs twitch around wade, protesting, like his thighs would be raising a little if they could, hips bucking, and he can't stop the way his muscles tense again. this time, not on purpose, and peter's eyes shoot open, he opens his mouth to warn wade but the only sound that carries over the noise of their bodies is an overstimulated but relieved sob as he comes between them, coating his knuckles and part of wade's stomach and while he doesn't go dead weight, his shoulders sag like the orgasm was ripped out of him.

he'll pant through it, letting wade ride his own orgasm out, even if it isn't instantaneous. let it not come as any surprise if all he has energy for are tiny wrung out noises into wade's ear while he vaguely brushes his lips there. )

[ If anything, the scratching turned him on more. Wade had a very high pain tolerance due to the whole dying repeatedly in super gruesome ways thing. It was still there, but it bothered him less than it would an average person. Yet another reason he and Peteyboy were heartmates. He didn't need the guy to worry about his freakish strength and what it would do to him.

When Peter came, he was an absolute vision. Wade wanted to burn it inside of his eyelids so it was the first and last thing that he saw every day. Was enough to get even a dumbass like him feeling like he could write poetry or something equally gay like that.

The younger man's muscles around his cock grip and ripple around him in the most delicious way as if trying to milk him of everything he had to offer. Wade bit out what was probably supposed to be a curse, the veins in his muscles even more visible as his body strained. His thrusts were shorter, becoming more like a jackhammer as he pounded into his body ruthlessly, chasing his own end. He probably should have been more gentle and caring in the aftermath of Peter's orgasm, but his mind was fully gone.

Fortunately, it didn't take him very long before he was tumbling over the edge after Peter. Spilled inside of him in a thick, sticky mess of what was an almost ridiculous amount of come. An even louder groan left him, body flushed as his hips continued to snap wildly to ride it out. Shit, it had been a long time since he'd had one that good.

After Wade was finally done, he took a second to rest his forehead against Peter's collarbone and smiled like the idiot he was. When he spoke, his voice was a little hoarse. ]

Fuuuuck, that was good.

( the upside to wade being turned on beyond belief, whittled down to lust and instinct, means that what mininal self-respect peter has canǰ bnb be held together by duct tape. if he's too far gone to perceive himself, wade's probably not keeping any mental annotations on how peter's voice cracks. his other saving grace is being somewhat boneless in the aftermath – when his muscles have slowed the contractions, that is — not that it isn't a completely different sensation and friction, having wade inside of him at such a frenetic pace when he's so sensitive.

it's challenging to find purchase to shift when they're both glistening with sweat under his hands and thighs, and peter resigns himself to becoming a whimpering mess on wade's cock. the pitch isn't quite there with his strained vocal chords but the curses mixed with please are. the struggle between focusing on wade's reactions (seeing how he finishes) and feeling them is too real. how the bricks are scraping his shoulderblades, the night chill's becoming recognizable, the fluctuation of being stretched from weird to good to ohfuck, then too much.

his inahles are labored, there's discomfort, a different ache but goddamn if hearing him groan loud enough to disturb nearby birds and knowing wade's shooting his load inside him doesn't make some blood try and rush southward again. like it's not all being rerouted to the light flush he's sporting all over. )

Too good. Guhhhh. ( right, yeah. sentences. ) Out-of-body experience, 8.5 out of 10 stars.

( he's going full-on bambi legs when wade lets him down. )

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the 10-12 hr work trip days cut the tires on my creativity, forgive me!

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