Chapter Text
The heat unfurled in his gut, churning and positively infuriating. Streaks of hot, hot, hot pulsing in his abdomen, brilliant flashes that induced his enhanced powers to explode underneath his nerves. Pain like no other biting and utterly striking his abdomen. Peter's teeth burnt akin to hot steel in his mouth, figurative boils growing and bubbling against his gums. He had the sudden urge to bite, claim, and devour anything that came across his path.
He felt every brush of fabric against his skin, every rub of the delicious polyester against his chest that sang crescendos of pleasure across his spine. The smooth cloth lapped over his chest, hugging his pectorals with a delicious rush of ecstasy every single time he took a sudden step forward. His nipples hardened and goosebumps erupted across his skin. Array of texture against the fine, discreet hairs that lined his body.
“Hey-urgh E.V.,” he swallowed, sweat gradually pooling at the creases in his hairline at the sudden engulfing heat, threatening to bead and trickle down his red, flushed face. “W-what’s happening to me?”
A female robotic voice answered him promptly, configuring a screen which showed his vitals in bright red and blue, the flashing colors emphasising the hormone production in his body at an impeccable imbalance.
“It seems Peter, you are approaching the mating stage of a spider's life cycle.”
What?
He opened his mouth to ask further questions, but instead groaned, a low sound from the back of his throat pushed out from the absolute yearn for something he quite couldn't name. Slick, clear and considerable in amount, trickled down his thigh weighing the cotton of his sweat pants down. The fluid swept from his back side, the slick increasing and gushing every miniscule instant Peter brushed his sensitive nipples against his T-shirt. The whimper left his throat before he had the chance to stifle the embarrassing noise.
His mutation had left him utterly perplexed for the first few weeks, a fish out of water- or in his case a spider out of its web. After the third Monday had repeated itself, Peter had developed an unsteady truce with his new heightened abilities. His wrists ached with numbed twinges at times, especially if it had been a particularly rough day where he abused his biological webbing to its highest extent. Sometimes after the long hours of his vigilante activities the skin around his bio-web shooters inflamed, a wonderful scarlet, and a hue of purple, as the flesh puffed out all pretty.
Peter collapsed to his knees, pawing at his abdomen. He felt a sudden crescendo of isolation, cold and cloying crawl across every nerve in his body. The feeling overcame him so swiftly he felt himself curl in on himself. He flopped himself to his side and tucked his knees underneath his chin. He trembled, heavy things that shook his brain and sent scatterings of every logical thought shattering across the palace of his mind. A cloud of thick all encompassing depression shadowed over his thoughts, Peter yelped as another gush of slick escaped from him, sobbing as he felt himself clench on absolutely nothing.
Peter needed someone, something- yet his heart dramatically dropped because every string of beautiful comfort in his life had been cruelly ripped and thoughtlessly shredded away from his hands. He clenched his fists, and a seep of crimson escaped his hands and pooled down towards the floors of his four walled apartment. The space suffocated him, the scent of his dorm leaving an acrid bitter taste on his tongue, slight flavourings of stale protein pancakes and agave syrup. A recipe he attempted to replicate from Aunt May, yet it tasted like a stranger's concoction in his heightened tongue. He fragmented every difference in his soul.
Peter felt a magnificent swoop in his gut and he ached for the touch of human skin. He envisioned fingers, any individuals at his current desperate writhing state- shedding past his sweats and curling around his hard aching cock, pumping up and down, twisting at the head and thumbing his slit furiously; all the while tweaking his sensitive perked nipples with their other hand. He arched his back, curving his spine away from the floors at the thought, shivering as a seep of drool escaped from his open mouth from the dirty fantasy. He licked his lips and wiped away the salvia with the back of his hand. God he felt like he was stuck in a weird fetish porno, the ones with the shitty plots and even shitter acting.
His own thoughts were utterly and startlingly failing him. With the little bouts of consciousness he could scramble together in his chaotic head, he understood the source of- whatever the hell this was, had most definitely something to do with the bizarre mutations and changes he was experiencing these past few weeks. Slick cloyed his thighs together, creating a lewd fwaph as he separated his muscular quads. Peter groaned, and the sudden urge to be entirely spread and round, full and heavy with eggs. The thought assumed every functioning brain cell in his foggy, lust induced mind.
The image of him wonderfully fucked open and bred, sent a flash of arousal to his cock. His toes curled and his hands trailed down his stomach, dancing over the thick rippling muscles in his abdomen. He observed his chest inhale and exhale sharp breaths and laboured puffs as his hands brushed past his clothed cock.
“Hngh- shit.” he whimpered as his thighs positively quacked, a furious back and forth as he felt pleasure hit him harder than Thanos ever had on the barren moon of Titan. A lewd squelch of wetness now pooled through his pants and leaked onto the floors, causing a shiny sheen to coat his surrounding bottom.
“I-I need-urgh-” he was now wholly warm, sweaty and delirious apparently; seemingly talking to himself in his sudden haze of lust. Of course he was, Peter nonsensically thought. He pushed sweat-damped curls back, and bit his lips painfully hard, sudden canines grinding into flesh as he yanked his pants and underwear down in a quick fluid motion he hadn’t even had time to consider. His cock plapped to his stomach, the head a furious shade of red with a dribble of pre-ejaculate seeping out of the slit.
He began with teasing his inner thighs, fingers trailing up and down and occasionally brushing past his hole, a weeping and wet crevice that dampened further at every slight touch. The mere thought of being utterly and unequivocally stuffed made the furl of muscle to wink and whimper for any simulation, so Peter, with virginal fingers pressed against the opening and slid inside. Warm wet walls introduced him, and he mewled at the sensation of the appendage dragging against every sensitive ridge. He felt every shift, every twitch of hesitation in his fingers and he edged himself deeper and deeper, until he possibly couldn't and his abdomen unclenched and the pain went away for one heavenly second and he saw white as he came, hard and fast. Ejaculate sprung from his cock, landing lazily on his stomach as he arched his back furiously from writhing all consuming pleasure.
Peter panted and suddenly moaned, a loud, whiny frustrated thing as the spiking need, need, need returned to him tenfold. Cramps punching holes through his abdomen as his cock refused to wilt. It remained as hard as ever, an embarrassing striking red as post coital clarity settled in his bones in a numb, unsatisfying way. He huffed, his face a pollock of pink and spattered with a healthy dose of freckles.
He grinded his cock against his palm, a sharp sigh escaping plump lips. He slipped the hand downwards again trailing past his lower pubic area as his finger effortlessly slid past his rim, sucking him deliciously into that warm tightness. And suddenly he felt like breaking down because one finger felt like a single teardrop in a ravenous fire, all consuming and starving. He craned his neck towards the ceiling, a pathetic yearning sob escaping his mouth because he simply needed more.
He lined his index and middle fingers next to each other, and harshly thrusted back down to his hole. It pushed through the ring of muscle with ease. Peter furiously moved them in and out. A dirty, undignified rhythm that was impossible to replicate for a non mutant. He preened, a high perched thing that left the eyes rolling back to his skull as ear shattering whines escaped his lips, his thighs positively shook and shivered at his startling pace. He twisted the fingers inside him, and he felt a bundle of powerful nerves come alight in his body. The air in his flat left his hardened nubs sore and aching to be suckled on, he lifted his free hand and pinched a nipple between his forefingers, rolling and massaging them as his own fingers pounded into his prostate causing a litany of undignified “Umghs!-” to escape from his tongue after every brutal thrust.
He sobbed harder, hopeless cries in the hope someone would hear him and pin him down and entirely debauche his body in the filthiest of ways. He needed more, he needed someone to hold and spear him down, force him to take anything that was given to him. He added a third finger, causing a delicious stretch of pain for a moment before it dissolved to pure ecstasy. He shivered, another splurt of ejaculate coating his muscular stomach. His frustration followed him over to his peak, leaving him a huffing and panting thing, tugging at his nipples like a common whore.
Now a pool of wetness gathered between his thighs, tears continued to bead at his eyes in frustration as his fingers were left worthless as fodder, they left him panting and whining for more- he needed something bigger that would breed him, another cock punching into him and coming seed deep inside of him. He needed to bite and sink his teeth into flesh, he needed to lick and indulge on crimson blood prancing down his throat, the complexities of iron and copper in his taste buds that were all but salivating at the thought of rich crimson liquid.
He thrust three fingers through his slippery hole, and rolled his eyes back as he pushed a fourth finger in. The fullness made something in him purr with pride, he pulled his fingers out from the warm confines of his wet slippery hole, a string of slick followed as the tips of his fingers now remained inside of the furled muscle. In a sharp movement he cruelly jammed all four fingers inside his hole again. Fucking himself in a brutal pace, he rocked his hips and followed every thrust, cock bobbing between his thighs.
Peter moaned, worrying his bottom lip against his teeth, lust addled thoughts fought against logic, they clashed and battled. Yet logic withered away in a thick fog of heavy want. He needed to stop the aching all consuming pain in his abdomen, the flashes of pleasure helped alleviate the pain emminsly as the fifth finger nudged against his hole, he held a sharp breath in his chest as he pushed inside. Slick pooled out of his thighs, a loud dirty quelch escaping at the huge intrusion inside the wet cavern. He bawled as the want continued to churn and pulse through his head. Intrusive and all hurtful because he needed someone and he psychically can't-
“Are you blushing, daffodil?” All rough and hard edged, a voice that cut through stone and sharpened diamond with the amount of sarcasm used. The texture of scar tissue and sharp gun smoke. The scent of musk, husky and masculine that sent tingles down Peter's body. The scent of sea salt and an underlying smell of sweat that intermingled into biting banter that left bruises and scalding injuries.
The hilt of his knuckles punched and massaged against his prostate deliciously, Peter rolled his eyes to the back of his head as he imagined Frank's biting degrading words punctuated with a roll of his hips, he imagined the man's cock pistoning in and out of his hole. Brutally thrusting and not halting or letting Peter even breathe for a moment's notice. He frantically dragged his fist in and out, thighs a quivering wet mess as tears, iridescent and clear escaped from his eyes. He could almost feel Frank's warm seed slipping inside him, filling him up and finally breeding him as his body so wantingly yearned for.
“Shit, Frank-”
The thought sent him over the edge, he came, hardest he ever did in the entirety of this day, and most likely his life. Peter muffled the soft moans of “Frank-” and whining pornographic “please-” that escaped his mouth. He covered his palm around his mouth, and let his canines bite and rip into the flesh of his hand. His head pulsed, and a devilish voice whispered sweet nothings of how worthy of a mate Frank Castle could make. He chirped, a preening animal noise escaping his wet lips as he slowly slipped his fist out from his gaping hole, groaning at the pool of slick that plopped out after its exit.
Clear wetness left the entirety of his right hand damp, soaking with a sheen of his own bodily fluids. He pawed into his pants, hands clutching his abdomen as he steered himself upright. He felt his cock begin to torturously harden again, and the primal need to hunt and devour his mate travelled through every blood vessel in Peter's body, climbing into major arteries and permanently twisting something inside of him. He licked his lips, and felt his senses hone and mute everything else that wasn’t him out.
He could hear the pittar-pattar of Frank's heart from eleven kilometres away, the thrum of blood that rushed towards the man's heart. Unknown to the poor man himself, Peter was stalking his every move, like a miniscule spider in the corner of a room. Peter opened the windows, and leaped, wind dancing against his skin as he swung, the hunt for his mate had started.
And Parker was ravenous.