Chapter Text
It’s taken you over a year, but you’ve finally captured him. Spiderman. After setting the perfect trap, weaving the finest web of lies and clues to lead him here, he’s gotten himself stuck. It’s almost too good to be true. 24 hours with him starts now.
He sits, still in his suit, wrapped in his own webbing, on a chair. Head lulled forward with his chin almost touching his chest. The drugs you need to administer are in a small syringe, ready to be squirted into his mouth.
You’ve only seen a portion of his face once, when it ripped in the heat of a fight. His lips cracked and covered in blood because of you. The sight of it made you want to lick the substance off of him. Drink it from him. That was the day you learned you had a blood kink.
Today is the perfect day to try it. To live out all of your deepest, darkest desires with your nemesis. Or who the public likes to refer to as the hero; you’re the nemesis in their eyes. Their villain. You prefer it that way.
Ensuring the room is locked up tight, you move closer to your bug. Your meal for the evening. The door is heavily reinforced from the outside and set to release you both based on a timer set prior to entering. Personally, you wanted to see if 48-hours would do it, but Spidey’s ability to process toxins and everything else is too fast for the fun to last.
It’s been a while since he’s gotten himself trapped, and the webbing likely only had half an hour before fully dissolving. Little pieces already floating to the floor.
You’ve prepped for this. Taken a slew of drugs to be ready for this. For him. Taken so many precautions for this to be perfect. Show time.
Stopping directly in front of him, you kick one of his feet. It moves, but he doesn’t stir. Not even a noise from him. You kick harder and earn a soft groan and a miniscule shuffle. “C’mon Spidey, we’re on a time crunch.”
Another groan from him. His head lifts to look at you and you swear you can hear his neck crack. “What’s going on?” His voice is gritty when he asks. It makes you smile, knowing he sounds that way because of what you’ve done.
“Well, well, well. Finally awake for me, huh? About time,” you slip the syringe into your pocket, feeling for the other drugs you have prepped just in case you need them.
“This suit of yours… how does it come off?” You’re genuinely curious. Your pointer finger pokes his chest and scratches its way slowly up to his chin. He tsks at you.
“Sorry, but that’s the kind of information I don’t tend to share with anyone. Especially the biggest threat to the city.” He’s trying to banter with you to find a way to escape.
“Ohhhh Spidey, my sweet- sweet spidey. While I love to hear you talk, and even compliment me at that, it’s time to get this show on the road. We’ve wasted enough time with your little nap.” Your finger slides against his neck to find the edge of his mask. When your nail wedges in it, you slip the backside of your finger against his neck. Stubble pricks against your fingers.
“Hey! Don’t do that-” your other hand flies over his mouth to silence him. It really just presses the fabric harder against his mouth, but he stops talking. You shush him, doing your best to keep him calm.
“Listen to me, sweet boy. I’m just going to lift this up so I can see that pretty mouth of yours. Give you a bit of medicine to help you out today.”
“I don’t-” he muffles against his mask. You shush him again and move your finger further between the fabric and his neck. The prickling against your finger excites you. Makes you want more of it everywhere. Your fantasies will come to life.
“I want to do this the easy way, but you’re really testing my patience. Be a good boy for me and let me do this. I promise I’ll let you go after. Hell, you can even take me in if you want.” You lean down so your face is right in front of his, sliding your hand off of his mouth and adding another finger below his mask. “But you know I always get out.”
You end by giving him a quick kiss on the tip of the nose on the mask. His throat bobs against your fingers, and you heard an audible swallow in the small, quiet room. The fabric stretches like he opens his mouth to speak, but it shifts back without a word. “Good boy,” you praise him.
He takes a long, deep inhale through his nose, like you’re about to rip a bandaid off of him. In a way, you are. His suit is like one big bandaid, except there’s nothing wrong with what’s underneath. Your thumbs rub against the top of the fabric until they reach your finger pads beneath. Pressing them together so you can peel the layer away from him.
“You’re doing amazing, Spiderman. Just a little more,” you encourage him. The mask flips up thanks to your work, rolling up his neck to reveal the stubble that scratched you. It’s brown, like the hair you’ve seen before. You want to bend down and feel it against your cheek, but you wait. Instead, you continue to roll the mask up past his chin, the fabric folding against itself so it blocks his sight.
His breathing continues at a steady pace. Deep inhale through the nose, then out. You capture your bottom lip with your teeth when you have a full view of his mouth. There’s a scab on his bottom lip. You want to bite it. See if you can make it bleed.
Letting go of the edge, your left hand grabs his throat. Fingers just below both of his ears. Pressing into his neck. His pulse beats against your fingertips. It picks up speed after a few seconds. Irregularly fast. You take the opportunity to press your nails into the skin, just hard enough to leave indents, but not enough to break the skin.
He inhales quickly and holds his breath. Curious, you flick your eyes down to his lap. Maybe Spiderman likes you more than he’d care for anyone to know, because he now sits in front of you with his dick hard. Straining against the fabric of his suit.
You hum in approval, excited to see just what will happen if he’s already this hard with no help from your concoction. Spidey sits still, breathing almost erratically. A smirk on your lips.
“You see. I’m a woman who pays attention to detail. Breathing, body language, tone of voice, all let me know what a person is thinking and how they’re feeling.” You release your hold on his throat and scratch your way down his bodysuit and over what web is left. More flies off as you do so. Stopping your teasing scratching just above his lap; gripping his suit in a fist so you can snap it down against him.
He flinches, and his breath hitches, but Spidey doesn’t move away from you. Nothing about him screams he wants you to stop. Everything is begging for you to keep going, to do more.
“According to everything I’m seeing and hearing from you, it seems like I could’ve just asked before trapping you with me. So, tell me.” You drag your pointer finger against him from his lap back up to his chest. Nail skipping over each rib of the fabric. All the way up to the bottom of Spidey’s chin.
Holding it with your thumb and crooked pointer finger, you lean so your mouth is just above his and whisper against his lips. “Do you think of me the way I think of you, Spiderman?”
Waiting for his response, you stay perfectly still, unwilling to break the fantasy you’ve built around the two of you. The perfection of the moment you’ve been planning for so long. You can feel your need growing by the second. Listening to his heartbeat helps you note how long he takes to respond. Approximately 15 seconds.
“I-” he swallows dramatically, but you love to see the way his throat moves. “don’t. I don’t- I don’t know how you think of me, so I- I wouldn’t know.” A smile curves your lips and you have to pull away before you laugh right into his mouth. Moment ruined.
You bellow a laugh and let go of his chin while you step away to look at him. Take in the sight of him while you maniacally laugh and let your fantasy crumble, so you’re just back in an empty room with Spiderman wrapped up in a chair. At your mercy.
“Oh, sweet boy. You know how I think of you. I did all of this, ” you gesture to the room, “For you .” Ending with a finger pointing at him.
It only takes two quick steps for you to be right in front of him, your toes almost touching. You straddle his lap and sit, legs on either side of him. He stiffens, but you grind yourself down on him, savoring the friction. The smirk on your face is unnoticed thanks to Spidey’s obstructed vision, but soon he’ll see. He’ll see you as you take all of him in. All of him.
“Wait,” he breathes out, struggling against the webs. More flying away as he does. You’re surprised he hasn’t broken free yet. According to all prior studies you’ve done on his webbing, he should be able to free himself. Eyebrows quirked, you pause. One hand in your pocket for the syringe, the other on his shoulder to keep you steady on his lap.
“What is it now? Gonna tell me what I wanna hear? How you do think of me like that?” You lean in so your mouth hovers above the small bump of his ear beneath the mask. “Or about how you’ve been sitting here, willingly. How you let yourself get caught in my web.” Silence from him.
Your teeth graze against his mask, teeth vibrating with each ridge atop his ear. Like plucking the strings of a spider’s web to alert them to their prey. Caught. Ready for consumption.
“How kind.” You breathe into his ear, pulling back and taking the syringe from your pocket. His lips are closed and his breathing controlled, but likely to snap at any moment. Especially thanks to you. You press the end against his lips, slipping it in with little resistance.
“Now. Be a good boy and swallow for me,” you demand, tone even. His throat bobs, like he’s proving he’ll do it. The slightest tilt of his head when he does so. This is going to be so fun.
Thumb on the end of the plunger, you slowly press it in, allowing the liquid aphrodisiac into his mouth. Halfway through, he swallows, and you can’t help but grind yourself down onto his lap again. His body processes everything quickly, meaning it will take effect almost immediately.
The hum he lets out when you do so makes your eyelids flutter without warning. Side effects because of your personal ingestant. Wetness pools beneath you, and you wonder if there’s enough to soak into Spidey’s suit. Rushing, you press the stopper all the way down and he chokes on the sudden rush of liquid before swallowing.
You hum in approval, bottom between your teeth. The tang of blood in your mouth makes you shift again, the raging boner beneath you making its presence known. Tossing the empty syringe to the side, you can’t look away from Spiderman.
His chest heaving, neck glistening with a sheen of sweat that wasn’t there a minute ago, flushed. Arm muscles straining to stay in position, like he’s trying to hold himself back. Keeping himself trapped. Almost annoyed, you use your now free hand to rip the rest of the way through the webbing. Little strings flying around the both of you like snow.
“Let go.”
A defeated sigh from Spidey lets you know you’ve won this round. Arms move quickly to your ass and his fingers find their way to the bottom edge of your skirt. You changed into it after moving him into this room.
With a huff from him, he yanks his hands away and you almost whine, but then you hear ripping behind your back, and the feel of uncovered hands against your cheeks. A rush of adrenaline courses through you.
A finger hooks into the back of your underwear and slides against you, torturing you. Your pussy flutters in excitement. The other hand palms your ass, playing with the flesh.
“Can’t believe this,” he snips. “Can’t believe you would do this to me.” The hand previously playing with your ass pulls back and lands with a smack. Cue more fluttering. His finger continues traveling against your skin, a knuckle just below your entrance. It feels slick against you.
“You’re drenched.” He slides his finger back, wiping it off before pulling his hand out from under your skirt. Your whole body feels hot. You need him to touch you everywhere, anywhere. Now.
He obliges, without prompt, with a hand on your thigh. It travels quickly beneath your skirt and below your underwear. Thumb teasing your clit.
“Ngh. Please,” you plead.
Fingers grip the material and pull it to the side before sliding through your lips with ease. Wasting no time, two fingers press into you. With how wet you are, he could easily fit three.
Spidey shushes you, slowly pulling his finger out and pushing them back in. The friction gives you something, but you want more. Need it.
He sets a good pace, but it’s not enough. The sound and feeling of his fingers moving in a rhythm sets your skin on fire. Pin pricks of pleasure dance across your body.
You whimper, needing more from him. Faster. Harder. Without uttering a word, he does exactly what you need. Pressing deeper into your pussy, thumb pressing harder against your clit and circling faster.
With a curl of his fingers to press against the spot, every muscle in our body lets go. Head in the crook of his neck, you let out a guttural moan at the intensity of your orgasm. He keeps pressing against your sweet spot, his thumb rubbing your clit in gentle circles.
If he keeps going, you’re going to cum again. The familiar tightening in your stomach already building again. Trembling in his lap, you grunt as he continues, doing little to stop his assault of pleasure.
Just as you feel you’re about to burst, he stops, pulling his fingers from your pussy. With a whimper, you relax in his lap, head against his shoulder.
His lips find your exposed neck, and he licks from beneath your ear to your neckline. You shiver at the sensation.
“Doing so well, darling.”
His hand leaves your ass, grabbing your face and pulling you into a kiss. It only adds to your pleasure. You feel a familiar tightening in your stomach, and try to focus on kissing Spiderman.
Spidey’s lips aren’t soft, but the amount of spit you’re swapping with him helps. The scab you’ve seen scratches against your lip. Moaning against his lips as he continues to fuck you,
Biting his lower lip, he winces, but doesn’t pull away. Lips parted, your tongue enters his mouth and you savor him. Blood falls from his lip and some gets into your mouth. Tongues move together, saliva mixed with blood threatening to drip from your mouth.
He pulls away from you, and the loss of his lips against yours almost stops your heart. If it weren’t for him driving into you at a maddening pace, hitting just the right spot every time, you’d protest.
“It’s a shame,” he mumbles against your neck. “I really did like this suit.” The hand under you quickly shifts and you hear ripping once again.
With his other hand, he lifts you from his lap and your eyes shift to see that he has, in fact, ripped open his own suit so his cock is finally free. This is going much better than expected.
You shift to get off of his lap, but his hands still you.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I thought maybe you’d want a little attention,” your head tilts to the side to convey innocence, but he still can’t see you.
“Oh I do,” he squeezes your hips harder, “But I don’t see why you shouldn’t too.”
Your cheeks heat at the fact that he doesn’t just want you to touch him. He wants you to ride him. He releases the pressure from your hips so you can lift yourself up.
Taking his dick into your hand, you spit into your hand and give him a few pumps for good measure. Soft hums of approval spur you on.
Positioning him at your entrance, you slide just the tip in and can already tell this is going to be the most exciting ride of your life. Even if it will be your one and only time. You’ll make it worth it.
Once you’re high enough, and it feels like Spiderman’s cock is almost all the way out, you drop back down with no resistance. You swear you see stars with how good it feels. His hand stays under your skirt, thumb continuing to rub against your clit. Thrums of ecstasy course through your veins.
You continue, lifting your hips and dropping yourself once just the tip is in. Groans and pants fill the space between you both.
Suddenly, after dropping back down, his thumb leaves your clit as he grips your hips with so much force that you know you’ll bruise. Just the thought of it has you excited.
Instead of just holding onto you while you ride him, he helps lift you up and push you back down. Grateful for the help, you let him. Your thighs need the break.
He doesn’t pull you as far up as you were moving. Spidey bounces you firmly on his lap. Barely giving you any time to think between nudges to your sweet spot. It’s maddening. The sounds coming out of your mouth leave it hanging open.
“Please. Don’t. Stop,” you say with each thrust. He does just that. No stopping or change of pace. “Good boy,” you offer him as a thank you. He’s doing so well. Giving you everything he can.
The sounds of skin slapping and the small pool of arousal and cum between you only intensify it. Everything echoes in the small room. One hand moves from his shoulder into the small bit of hair sticking out from the back at the back of his head. Tugging at it.
“Fuck, do that again,” he growls at you. You oblige and he groans so loud you swear you feel it in your chest. His pace doesn’t change.
“‘m close. Need you to cum again, ‘kay?”
“Mhm.” You manage to respond, everything is a little hazy.
“Good girl.” You almost keen at the praise, noting that the both of you seem to share that kink.
His hips jut upward as he brings you down on him, and it causes that knot in your stomach to explode and you almost scream as you cum on Spiderman’s cock. The noise he makes, and the twitches you feel as you come down from your high, let you know he came. Your goal for this mission: successful.
Forehead against his, or at least against the mask, which is now drenched in sweat, circulating sex tainted air between the two of you, you hum. Pulling back to look at his mouth, dazed but smiling, you admire him. Slowly moving through a post-orgasm haze, it takes a moment to register his hand moving up to his mask.
He pulls it all the way off, and wow. Seeing his entire face sends you into shock. Your brain isn’t firing at top speed like usual, and you just stare at him. His face is relaxed, and lust-filled eyes peer into yours.
“Did you think we were done?” His cock twitches back to life inside you, and a fresh wave of arousal overcomes you. You didn’t think it would happen this fast.
“I- I can’t yet,” throat scratchy from mouth breathing while he fucked your brains out. His lips curl up in a smile, and his eyes shift into something sinister.
“Oh, darling.” One hand tucks loose hairs behind your ear, and he leans closer to whisper into it. “Next time you cum on my cock, I wanna hear my name.”
His hand makes its way to your neck, gripping it lightly, breath hot against your ear.
“It’s Peter.”