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#i want to make a spidersona so bad but I’d fuck it up big time
ifridiot · 5 years
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Push
My Spidersona (Naia Leadley) working with Wade. They’re friends, but Wade doesn’t know Naia outside of the mask and assumes (like everyone else) that Spider-man is a cis dude.
Hanging out with Deadpool had perks.
One of those perks happened to be honing their repertoire of creative threats.
“Wilson, if you don’t fuckin’ move that goddamn hand right goddamn now, I’m gonna rip your dick right off and shove it up your ass so far you fucking choke on it.”
The hand skirting down their back yanked immediately away, but Wade laughed, easy and delighted. If anyone enjoyed Spider-man’s colourful threats more than Naia, it was Wade. Which worked out, because he was often the one receiving them.
“Oh, and then what, baby boy?”
Wade likes to push and has what Naia would term a near-fatal drive to push people away. He’d called Spider-man a DILF the first time they’d met, and twigged immediately to the discomfort that had caused. A little teasing, a few broken jaws later, he’d picked the pet name that set Naia most on edge, the one that would drag violence out of them without fail.
And that was the fuck of it, as far as Naia cared to dwell on it. Deadpool was a violent, self-destructive merc with distinct psychotic tendencies, but around him, even in the mask, Naia didn’t feel like they had to be anyone else. Not Spider-man, not the soft, restrained version of themself that they presented to the world out of the mask. They could just be Naia.
A Naia who didn’t have to hide one set of arms, who didn’t have to hold back with Wade, who could just… be. And maybe it wasn’t fair, that they still couldn’t quite bring themselves to unmask around Wade, or give any clue as to who they were outside of the masked vigilante stick, but they were easing into it.
Wade doesn’t make it easy, but that’s kind of part of the charm. One hand slides into their space and cups a handful of ass, and Naia is so glad for having so many hands and the ability to move them all so fast. Suddenly the offending hand is caught, wrist snapped dryly, while one of Naia’s other hands is around Wade’s throat, lifting him bodily, the other two hands wrapped in his costume front. Naia lets him dangle, choking on not enough air. They’ve gotten pretty good at controlling how hard they can hold to Wade’s neck without actually choking him, and when he calls them baby boy, he deserves rough handling.
“I need you to focus on keeping your goddamn hands off my ass, Wade, because I need you to have unbroken hands when it’s finally time to start punching assholes. This is a stakeout, not a fucking hook up.”
“Ass… like a… magnet,” Wade manages, and Naia has to fight really hard not to smile.
They get it. They do. Wade’s not used to people putting up with him, that much he’s made real fucking obvious, and after seeing him without his mask, Naia understood his insecurity. They’d seen uglier, but it was a rough look and they knew well enough how people treated someone who looked that messed up.
Wade’s crazy and rough and he’s been hurt a lot. Naia likes him, likes being able to call him a friend, even when he’s driving them utterly up the wall. Even when he’s testing boundaries, even when he’s seeing if he can make Spider-man into an enemy.
“Your hand ain’t metal.”
They don’t like being touched without permission during a mission, though. They dump Wade on his ass and he sprawls across the dingy floor, pouting severely enough that Naia can tell even through the mask. Naia turns back to the window and resumed their watch, listening as Wade shuffles around on the floor and finally sits up, leaning both against the wall and Naia’s leg.
It works. It’s touch, but it’s acceptable. That’s another thing Naia’s noticed about Wade; he doesn’t like a lot of people touching him, but when he decides he does want someone to touch him, he turns into an absolute cuddleslut.
After a moment, they sigh, dropping one of their secondary hands to rest on Wade’s head. “How’s Cable?”
Idle conversation helped pass the time and tended to distract Wade from getting handsy.
“Can you believe he had the audacity to die again?” Wade says, and honestly that explains just so much of his behaviour that Naia almost feels bad about how rough they’d gotten with him. “I don’t think I count as a grieving widow, what with the divorce and all, but if you want to comfort me in my time of distress, you have a lot of strong arms I’d love to fall into. Big hands, too, so I assume your dick --”
Goddamnit.
“Wade,” they say as passively as possible, swatting the merc across the back of his head. “You wanna stop that train of thought before I take those fuckin’ swords and spit roast you on ‘em.”
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