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. . . . . ╰──╮︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶╭──╯ . . . . .
You and Peter were having a problem. You didn't really know why though. He was pissed but refused to tell you why. Now you knew it was because of something you had done because as soon as he came home from patrol, he had you pinned to the wall, glaring at you before throwing you on the bed.
You don't understand what's going on but you know he's beyond pissed when he basically rips your clothes off and his spidey suit before warning you.
"Tell me now if you don't want me to fuck you. I'll go to the bathroom and call down there but be quick before I lose my patience."
You keep quiet and nod slowly, allowing him to touch you. Except he doesn't fucking touch you. As soon as you nod, he's parting your thighs open and stuffing himself balls deep inside your cunt. You're more than stunned, back arched and oxygen quickly leaving your body.
He's holding your neck with one hand and the headboard with the other and he just started going at it. He's rough and fast, your thighs are already trembling and sensitive from the violence of his skin slapping your ass. You're moaning loud, practically screaming in both pleasure and surprise. You liked it when he handled you and nothing turned you on more than having him mad at you but you wish you could have an explanation as to why he was so angry at you.
He's not even letting you moan properly, forcing your mouth open and stuffing his fingers inside to muffle your sounds.
"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear a single sound coming from you, slut."
In that moment you feel so weak, soaking wet around his cock because he degrades you. He knows you like that shit but it isn't the point. He's fucking you like you ran him over for a while, letting you cum as hard as you want but still preventing you from being loud which makes you even more wet.
Each time he came, he'd pull out and cum on your stomach or force your mouth open to swallow his load. He was rough and angry and dominant and you should've probably been asking questions but he was fucking you beyond stupid and you were too fucked out to question him.
His grip on the headboard is still as strong as it was before and he's going even harder on your poor body. You're raw and overstimulated, your pussy too tender to be able to take more of his vicious backshots and his ways of toying with you.
"B-Baby... Peter ! Please ! Peter, please I can't– I can't take anymore ! Nghhh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ! Please Peter, I can't cum anymore ! My pussy's so sore ! Please !"
He's glaring down on you like you were some pathetic creature and keeps plowing into you, holding the headboard with one hand and basically slamming it into the wall. The bed is squeaking and you can hear the sound of wood ripping but he's going so hard on you, all you can do is roll your eyes to the back of your head and bite your lips until you bleed. He starts toying with your clit, twirling his fingers on it, rubbing it and rubbing your folds.
When you cum all around him he's smug but without even smiling. Still very moody and very dominant.
"Well, look at that. You keep saying that you can't take more but you're creaming all over my cock. Pathetic. Keep lying and I'll fuck you until your legs go numb."
You were crying in the sheets, begging for a divine intervention to give you a little rest. And the universe, being clement and always on time, decided to break the bed. It snapped under you in a loud sound that surprised you both.
Peter watched the surprise on your face fade and turn into a relieved smile. Absolutely not.
"You think a broken bed's gonna stop me ?"
And there is the shock again. When he lifts you off the mattress, still balls deep in you, you squeal and hold onto him as tight as you can. He stands against a wall, pressing your back to it and whispering in your ear.
"The last thing you should be worried about is a broken bed. I'm not done with you until I say I am. The universe could send an helicopter flying through the room, I'll be done torturing that pussy when I decide it." The two of you went for at least two more rounds until you passed out of exhaustion.
When you woke up, he was nice again and a little worried for you. It turns out, that what you did was be a little too pretty through the window when he swung by. He saw you undress and dance naked with the blinds open and you teasing him never ended well. The positive point was that he had apologized and now you were being cuddled and kissed all over.
"I'm sorry buttercup... I'm sorry, I love you... I love you and your pussy... and I'll fix the bed... and I'll massage your thighs too... I'm sorry... I love you baby... so, so, so much..."
You ended the night with a soft smile, caressing him and trying to calm down his terrible temper. That spider bite did a number on his mood and the way he behaved.
. . . . . ╰──╮︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶╭──╯ . . . . .
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