Chapter Text
Some things were never meant to be.
Discouraging as it was, Mary Jane had always believed this ever since her father took a swing at her mother. Happy endings, loving couples, destiny, it all was a foolish and faraway concept she’d never reach. Being with Peter was the closest she’d ever gotten to believing in love, but even then, their engagement crumbled like graham crackers.
She loved him, she truly loved him, but the universe had an unwritten rule stating neither of them could have what they wanted. Neither of them could ever find happiness in each other. Every time they even came close to being in one another’s lives, some great and terrible thing would drive them further and further apart, and she’d be forced to seek the arms of someone else to keep her warm at night.
Mary Jane never had a lack of sexual partners. While it partially had to do with her connections in the modeling industry and her upbeat personality, she wasn’t naïve enough to dismiss the fact she was an absolute bombshell. Her natural mane of crimson hair and her fair-toned skin were enough to draw heads, but she knew both men's and women’s eyes were drawn to the way her generously ample tits bobbed, and her thick ass jiggled. Whenever she entered a room, all eyes were on her, and she’d become addicted to it.
She kept a strict regimen of diet and exercise, keeping her tummy flat and her slender legs toned. All she had to do was sway her hips and crook a finger, and suddenly her bed would be filled with whomever she wanted. They worshipped her body, lavishing it with soft and sweet kisses and entering her with reverence. It was like she was some holy figure, and they did their best to please their goddess until their cocks were raw and their tongues were sore. But they were never enough.
Because none of them were Peter Parker.
One night with him had ruined sex for her. Nobody could ever compare to his inhuman stamina and unnatural strength. She hadn’t experienced the pleasure of real sex until she was hanging upside down from the ceiling. When Peter made love, he threw his everything into it, and she was addicted to him. She felt so dainty and small when he’d lift her up and jackhammer into her slutty pussy. She truly felt loved by the hours he spent eating her out as she bathed his face with her juices. And when it came to giving him pleasure in return…he’d been the only one to ever claim her asshole. It had only been once because she found it a degrading and awful experience, but she’d given it to him.
But with Peter, she was always competing with two others. Namely “power” and “responsibility”. He could never give them up, no matter how much he loved her back. That was the thing about Peter, while her heart belonged to him, Spider-Man belonged to the world. She’d come to terms with this truth long ago, but it didn’t hurt any less.
But a year ago, something peculiar happened, Peter asked her out on a date. And then another. And another. And they didn’t stop. Sure, some were interrupted, but he kept coming back to her. He never let the excuse he was putting her life in danger get in the way. They went to the park, watched bad movies, and spent time with friends. There was just one little problem.
For some reason, he never asked to spend the night. Never propositioned her for a long and romantic session of lovemaking or even a quickie on a rooftop. But he teased her, God how he teased her, cupping her ass through her leggings and long passionate kisses that left her breathless. But he never touched her intimate place, no matter how much she dripped for him. Every time he swung out of her apartment, she’d lock herself in her bathroom and frantically pleasure herself in the bathtub. They were pitiful and paltry orgasms compared to what Peter could provide, but for whatever reason he was withholding them from her.
She wanted to bring it up, maybe even seduce him, but they were finally happy, and she was terrified she’d break it. But those unfounded fears evaporated when, on one wind-swept rooftop, he pulled out his late aunt’s ring.
It all made sense now. He wanted their first time back together to be special. Such a cornball.
God, she was starving. After fasting for nearly four days to fit into the wedding dress, she could easily eat an entire pizzeria. Through sheer will, she forced her stomach not to growl as the priest had them read their vows. He had a few quips in his, all in good taste, but it moved the congregation to tears by the end of it. Hers paled in comparison, and she felt so inadequate stammering through her scrawled words. Which gave her even more of a complex knowing Peter had his vows memorized.
As for the after-party, she still refrained from eating. While she was considered a goddess by some, she was nothing compared to the guest list. Mary Jane didn’t have anyone close enough to invite, and her family was a whole other matter, but Peter had more than made up for it with all his amazing friends. And seeing them all at once immediately silenced any craving she had to stuff her face.
Her tits were magnificent, but Wanda Maximoff’s were voluptuous. Her face was pretty, but Jean Grey’s was elegant. Her ass was curvy, but Lady Thor’s was literally Godlike. Kitty Pryde’s waist was slimmer, Natasha Romanoff’s hair was redder, Susan Richards's hips were wider, and the list went on and on and on. Maybe she could’ve gotten away with the excuse they were all superhuman or had the legacy formula pumping through their veins…but then there was Felicia Hardy.
She wasn’t certain Peter’s ex would show. But she did. And she was stunning. Everything Mary Jane had worked for, Felica carried with more confidence and grace. She was truly at home in her body, wearing the skimpiest white dress and easily outshining Mary Jane’s own wedding gown. She wanted to run away and hide, but Peter kept his hand in hers, and that made everything better.
Felicia lost. Peter was hers.
When the festivities were done, Stark announced his gift was an all-expense paid trip to the Caribbean, jokingly warning her to “watch out for spiders”. Stephen created a gateway, and the wedding guests waved them goodbye as she and her husband stepped through it. Husband. It felt so right.
Stepping from the cool air of Manhattan and into the heat of the Caribbean was jarring, but not unwelcome, and she quickly ran off to explore their luxury villa. It didn’t take her long to find the bedroom, already covered with red and blue rose petals. Fuck it. Dinner could wait. It’d been nearly a year since she’d last been with him, and she needed him to fill her right then and there.
“Tiger?” she purred, hopping onto the bed. Constantly adjusting and readjusting herself to find the best and most seductive position. Finally settling on lying on her side, head propped up beneath one arm. “You ready to hit this jackpot?”
“Just a moment,” Peter called from outside the room.
Just a moment? She’d been waiting so long for him; she couldn’t wait another second. Any longer and she’d soak through her dress and stain the bed sheets.
“Peter, your wife is waiting for you,” she sang, rubbing her legs together and feeling herself squish with desire.
“In a second…” Peter said, a slight edge in his voice.
Did she do something wrong? Maybe she should just stay quiet and wait patiently. But, again, she’d waited so long already. Fuck the bed, she didn’t need to be comfy while he railed her. She just needed to have something hard and throbbing inside her again. Crawling off the side, wedding gown trailing behind her, Mary Jane left the bedroom to go searching for him.
The villa was massive, and she searched from room to room. Something was wrong. He wouldn’t keep her waiting like this. Finally, she found him on the front porch, staring out over the ocean. His black tux stood out like a shadow before the crystal-clear waters.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
“Go back to the room,” he said.
“Was it something I—”
“Go!” He snapped, swerving around, eyes wild.
She jumped, clutching her chest. He’d never talked to her like that before. Not with that tone.
She wouldn’t stand for it.
“Peter Parker! What the hell has gotten into you?” she demanded.
“Me.” A sharp toothy grin curled up Peter’s face.
No. Not him. Anyone but him.
She scrambled back into the villa, throwing herself from room to room. She could hear him behind her, leaping from wall to wall, crawling across the ceiling. Why didn’t she think to bring her damn phone? How the hell was she supposed to contact anyone without—
THWIP
Mary Jane squealed as she was yanked off the floor, a black web dangling her from the ceiling. She kicked and flailed, as she spun around until she was face to face with the monster as it hung upside down. Despite his reveal, he still wore her husband’s face, albeit with a wider and pointier grin. In a deep and gravelly voice, “What’s the matter, MJ? Usually, the jitters come before the wedding.”
“Where’s Peter!” she wriggled in the mess, the tendrils wrapping around her arms and binding them to her sides. “The hell did you do to him?”
“I am Peter,” the monster grinned, “Is it the voice?” It reverted to his normal tone, “Better?”
“Peter wouldn’t talk to me that way!” Mary Jane snarled, her emerald eyes burning with hatred.
“Even if I found out about you sleeping around?” His brow furrowed, and a shadow crossed his face. “During our engagement.”
Mary Jane stiffened, she’d been so careful, only spending time at other apartments and renting hotel rooms. She wanted to be faithful to Peter, she really did, but a girl had needs and she was only human. Did he really expect her to wait a whole year like…like a good fiancé would…
“I’m sorry,” her head sagged, her cheeks burning with shame, “I didn’t…you have to understand…I had to—”
“You had to satisfy that dirty itch, didn’t you?” Peter asked the usual levity in his tone done. “The symbiote told me that’s what you’d do. I didn’t want to believe it. But it was right. I didn’t want to see it. Always looking for the best in people. But I was wrong.”
He chuckled, “This last year has been hell. Trying to get this thing off me. I thought somebody would notice in the first six months. But nobody did. I think somewhere along the way, I lost my mind.
“Do you know how often I’ve needed help? Or how much I’ve sacrificed for the people I love? But the moment I need someone…nobodies there. I held out so long, waiting for someone to save me. But a guy can only take so much.”
He wasn’t wrong. That’s the chilling part. Their friends, his colleagues, even her…it was always Peter against the world. Always there for others but left alone when he needed people most.
“The symbiote—”
“The symbiote is the only one that’s been there for me.” Peter snapped back, “Were you?”
And suddenly she was left with nothing more to say. He was too far gone. And it was all her fault.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asked, daring to look back up into his piercing glare and immediately regretting it. “You could’ve broken up with me. Why pretend for so long?”
“I was going to, I wanted to, but the symbiote offered me another option,” he flipped around, landing on the floor with barely a sound. “It convinced me you’d make a good pet.”
“Pet?”
She yelped as the tendril dropped her to the floor, her knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed in a heap. Her veil fell in front of her face, covering her fair skin. This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening. Peter wouldn’t listen to the symbiote, there had to be something else going on. “Peter, we can get help! We can tell the others! Talk to me!”
Flipping her head up, her nose brushed against something thick and hard. There it was. The cock she’d been dreaming about all year. The cock that’d been so close to her, but she never had the chance to touch it. The cock that’d brought her to more mouthwatering orgasms than any other man or woman had ever achieved. It was right there. The heat of it pressed against her pert nose.
“I think we’ve done enough talking,” Peter said, flipping her veil up and over her head. She could see him clearly now in all his magnificence. He was bigger than she remembered, with thick veins pulsing along his pale shaft. The thick and meaty head was already greased with his precum, the slit oozing more down in one thick glob.
“What makes you think I’ll do it?” Mary Jane asked, though her dazzling green eyes remained locked on his length. Her pink tongue snuck out to lick her rosy lips.
“You’re a slut, MJ,” he said, “It’s what you were born to do.”
No. He was wrong. He had to be. But…she breathed in the thick scent of his manly musk. Slightly sour and bitter, but still she sniffed at his head like a bloodhound. She wanted to taste it, to run her tongue along his greasy head and lap up all that cum he saved. How much was in those thick, clementine-sized balls? They looked heavy, brimming with his virile seed. The heat emanating from them was so strong, almost too strong.
She pressed her nose against his cockhead, sniffling in his scent. The scent of the man she’d been lusting after. Here he was, in all his glory, she couldn’t pass this up. In that moment, she didn’t care whether he was Venom or Peter, there was only her need. Her unfulfilled craving for his cock.
Her plump lips popped open, already wet with anticipation, and her tongue slipped out. It lapped at the underside of his manhood, slick but also leathery and hot. It was better than she remembered, and when she slipped her tongue back inside her mouth, she tasted the salty but creamy confection that was his precum. She moaned like a needy bitch, running it over her teeth to etch his flavor into her mouth. It wasn’t enough, she needed seconds.
“Good girl,” his hand patted her head like she was an animal, and she felt happy. Content. Worshipped for so long, this was the first time anyone had thrown her into the proverbial dirt and treated her like a slab of meat. It was degrading, it was humiliating, it was…fucking wonderful. Already, she was soaking through her panties and dousing the floor.
No, this was Venom. This was still a monster.
But it hadn’t hurt her. If anything, it was opening her up to something more. She didn’t know what she wanted, her loins were on fire and her head was foggy with lust. Having Peter’s cock in her mouth after pining for it for so long…she couldn’t pass up this chance. She couldn’t give up the wonderful cream already being scooped up by her tongue. What if this was Peter? What if she liked this new him?
“Deeper,” Peter said, gripping her scarlet hair and tugging lightly. It didn’t hurt, but it was a reminder. A reminder of her new place in life. She nodded, prying open her maw, craning her head back, and forcing herself down on his cock.
Mary Jane was far from a novice. If anything, she’d been fascinated by cocks since she first learned about them. But oral had always been a choice, a gift to be given, and all her lovers thanked her profusely for her lavish and talented ministrations. It’d been loving, slow, and gentle.
But the moment Peter’s hands gripped her ruby hair, she knew this wasn’t going to be anything like that. In the same moment he slammed her down on his rod he bucked into her face. Her nose mashed into his groin and her chin slapped against his balls. Her throat was full and truly stuffed, she could barely breathe with her nose pressed flat against his skin. Her esophagus stretched to accommodate him, her throat bulging obscenely as she struggled to keep him down.
“Even here, you’re loose,” Peter grunted, drawing himself back out with a sickening schhhhhhlunnnk. Mary Jane’s tongue dragged along the underside of his shaft, her eyes bulging as more and more of him pulled out of her throat. It just kept going. There seemed no end to him. Finally, her mouth was stuffed with the bulbous head, and she quickly wrapped her lips around it. “Tighten it.”
How? How was she supposed to tighten her throat?
Timidly, Mary Jane’s trembling fingers wrapped around her neck, pressing her thumbs against her trachea. As she sealed off her air supply, her eyes pleaded for his approval, and he grinned. With a sudden thrust, he bottomed himself inside her, and immediately she gagged. But her hands remained wrapped around her neck as he skull fucked her face, feeling the head of his cock move beneath her thumbs.
GLUK-GLUK-GLUk-GLUK-GLUK
Ropes of thick goopy saliva hung in strands from his balls to her lips.
“Tighter!” he demanded.
She needed air. But she also needed to please her husband. She dug her thumbs in more, the aching in her neck causing her eyes to water. But she had to be good. She owed Peter this much. She owed him so much more for sleeping around.
Darkness invaded the corners of her eyes as Mary Jane slowly drifted away. She didn’t even realize he’d yanked himself free until he was slapping the sides of her face with his rod.
“Wake up!”
He slapped her in the eye with his cockhead, and she squeaked in pain. Her hands fell from her neck and flew to her eye.
“You’re still too loose, but there’s nothing for it. Just suck my cock until I cum.”
She meekly nodded, knowing she’d failed as a wife. Passing herself around had left her worthless to him. But maybe her lips would suffice.
She seized upon his dick, hungrily caving in her cheeks as she sucked with all her might. Her tongue flicked over his head before curling around it. Her hands wrapped around his shaft, still dripping with her spit and his pre, and jerked him off with all the loving tenderness she could offer. She pumped up and down, suckled the precum from his shaft, and gulped down what little sticky goodness she could. She moaned and hummed and made noises that drove men wild. Surely this was enough.
But when she looked up, she only saw disappointment.
“You’re pathetic,” Peter sighed. “Fuck it, we’ll do it the hard way.”
Peter ripped himself from her lips and suddenly Mary Jane was thrown on the ground. She screamed, her fingernails digging into the floor as she tried to crawl away. But Peter was already flipping up her dress and exposing her garter belt. She knew what was coming, she knew what the hard way was before he even prodded her asshole.
“God, I’ve wanted to do this again,” Peter hissed, thwapping his massive cock against her puckered hole. The obscene slapping noises sent shivers up her spine. “So much time spent holding back, when all I had to do was take what I want.”
“No! Please! I’ll do better!” Mary Jane cried, tightening her hole in a vain attempt to keep him out.
“This is plenty.”
“PLEEEEEEEEASE!” Mary Jane screamed as he broke through her clenched backside, tearing through her muscles and driving up into her guts. Big hot tears poured down her face, ruining what was left of her makeup. It felt like a truck was being shoved inside her, barreling down on her and driving into her so hard and deep she couldn’t catch her breath.
“Now we know what you’re good for!” Peter laughed, hilting himself inside her snug asshole.
She was burning, her hole was on fire, she couldn’t take much more of this. Her eyes rolled into the back of her skull as he began hammering into her abused ass. If this was how it felt with all her spit lubing him up, she’d hate to imagine what it would’ve been like dry.
Again, he wrapped her hair around his hands, using them as little more than reins. Her back arced backward, and her breasts thrust out as she was pulled nearly at a ninety-degree angle. Every time he thrust in, he’d yank her back harder. God, she could feel her insides being stirred around as he wrecked her tiny hole.
“Beg for it!” Peter roared, hammering away at her ass.
“P-please!” Mary Jane cried, “H-harder!”
“With feeling!”
“Fuck my ass harder!” Only the whites of her eyes were showing now, her neck straining as she was pulled back further than ever before. It had to end here; she couldn’t take much more. “Cum in me! Please, Peter! Cum in my hole!”
“Yesssss!” Peter hissed, bottoming out. He let go, and Mary Jane collapsed on the floor. Her insides were seared with hot sticky cream, flooding her bowels with his healthy load. She could feel him twitching inside her, her guts churning as his seed gushed around. It was unnatural, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Her throat ached, her ass burned, and her whole body was wracked with agony.
But her clit had never throbbed harder in her life.
Peter plopped from the asshole, a flood of his seed bathing her wedding dress. Air flooded her gaping hole, and she moaned in despair. Would it ever go back to normal? Or had he ruined her ass beyond repaid.
No. It didn’t matter. She needed him to finally fill her.
“Tiger, please…” she gasped, “I need it…”
“Oh, you do?” Peter asked, “How about this…”
She was suddenly eye level with his cock again, though this time, it was straight from her ass.
“Clean me up, and I’ll think about it.”
There was no use. She knew her place.
Opening her mouth, Mary Jane obediently wrapped her lips around his dirty cock.
The moans coming from within the closet weren’t of pleasure, but misery. They were his personal symphony. With how he’d webbed her to the wall, with her fingers stuck mere centimeters from her clit, she wouldn’t be able to touch herself until he released her. And that wouldn’t be for much, much longer. But he didn’t mind the ambiance. If anything, it kept him focused on his work.
Flipping through the files on his phone, he looked over all his little side projects. He’d spent the year amassing an army of spider drones, all dispersed throughout the city and some even further. They’d been amassing data on certain individuals he’d had in mind for the first step of his great plan. Mary Jane was barely a preface, but she was somewhat necessary.
He wasn’t certain whether the symbiote had awakened something in him or whether these feelings were implanted, but he honestly didn’t care. The world had opened up so much since he’d claimed his first conquest, though that was a story for another time, and now he was addicted to the power he exerted over the women in his life.
Meanwhile, his cover was intact. Nobody would suspect the happily married friendly neighborhood Spider-Man of what would shake their world next.
With a lazy yawn, Peter gave his phone one last look, before tossing it onto the bed. It bounced once, then twice, then landed face up showing off a folder marked: Felicia Hardy.