#peter parker bingo

[truebluedreamer]

For @pparkerbingo square B5: Meet Cute “Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the 'girl is pretty enough to warrant a flower theft' and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard” AU or Aunt May's favorite scent had been lavender. So when Peter passes by the Stark Estate on his usual walk to the family gravesite, he stops to pull together a small bouquet. Until Tony Stark catches him in the act.

Card below cut:

[pparkerbingo]

Peter Parker Bingo Round 2!

hello! round 2 of peter parker bingo is here! this year, we're doing something a little different - no sign-ups! there are two (2) cards (found below), one sfw and one nsfw, with five (5) alt prompts if you'd like to/need to swap any of the squares. you can choose which card you'd like to work on (or both!)

standard bingo rules apply: five (5) spaces horizontal, vertical, diagonal, four corners + free space, or black out! but you can fill as many or as few of the squares as you'd like, no pressure! you can write fic, make fanart, playlists and more! all fanworks are welcome.

this round is open from june 1st - december 31st

the ao3 collection (pparkerbingo24) will open on june 1st. please tag this blog in your posts here on tumblr, and use #pparkerbingo24 so that your work can be shared here to the event page!

the rules and faq have been updated for this new event format, but as always, the askbox is open if you have any questions!

happy creating!

[otpcutie]

Otpcutie’s Peter Parker Bingo Masterlist — My completed @pparkerbingo fills, for round one.

1. The Bait (T, 0.7k) | Square: B4, escort

Summary (Stony/implied Winterspider): Tony goes undercover as an escort for a case.

Contains: Detective AU, grumpy Steve, jealousy, besties/work partners Steve & Bucky, pining Steve, Bucky is fed up with it, escort Peter, implied Bucky/Peter, pining, angst, love confession (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

2. Business (M, 1.5k) | Square: O5, Bucky Barnes

Summary (Winterspider): Peter is ‘given’ to Mafia Boss Bucky. Or so he thinks.

Contains: Mafia AU, Mafia Boss Bucky, Russian Bucky, adult Peter, sex worker Peter, dark Peter, Peter is a little shit, age difference, possessiveness (more on AO3)

Links: Tumblr | AO3

Card below the cut:

[monster-cock69]

i don't like mondays

AO3 link here

Pairings: None

Tags: All Human AU, School Shooting, Dead Dove

Warnings: School Shooting, Major Character Death

Rating: Teen (may change)

Summary:

Peter had never liked Mondays, and a Monday at Midtown was more hectic than all of his Mondays in middle school combined. Too many of the other students agreed.

Trudging through the overly crowded hallways still hadn’t become a part of Peter’s routine. 

The crowding within Midtown School of Science and Technology was only comparable to the few times he’d made the mistake of traveling through Times Square during rush hour. Everyone was pushing and shoving, clothing got caught on bags and it was impossible to move more than a few feet without bumping into someone. 

It didn’t help that his teachers refused to understand and he had to make his way to the other end of the building. 

“Peter!” 

Ned was flush with the wall toward the end of the hallway, near the turn Peter was shuffling toward. The shout was barely audible in the loud space but he managed to nod in his friend’s direction. 

Their schedule was almost the same on Mondays, which made his introduction to the week almost forgiving. 

A tightly huddled group of seniors shoved him out of their way, but he managed to reach Ned, who clutched his arm tightly and pulled him around the bend. 

The crowd seemed to thin out the further into the school they went – it was both a relief and a curse since it meant they would be late for their next class. 

“I hope they didn’t take our seats,” Ned muttered as a girl from their gym period bumped into him. 

The sentiment was shared, but baseless. Peter was pretty sure no one else would want to sit front and center during Mr. Mahoney’s class. He was a funny, but mean teacher whose jokes were mainly science puns and felt like freshman biology was inferior to the sophomore chemistry he taught two years before. 

“I just hope he won’t be mad – I was pretty excited for this lab.” 

Despite it only being October, their biology teacher had decided the class was ready to do a dissection lab. If anyone was late it meant a ten minute lecture on the importance of punctuality and less time to work on their frogs. 

“I mean, it’s okay – I just hate that lab’s on Mondays. It’s stupid.” 

“I don’t like Mondays,” Peter agreed, a little breathless as they made the last turn into the science hall. 

It seemed like they weren’t alone in their rush to the class. At least three others were running into the room from the opposite direction. 

This time, Peter was the one to tug at Ned’s arm as he pulled him into the room.

“I see we’ve managed to prove ten minutes is more than enough time to get to class, Mr. Parker, Mr. Leeds.” 

Ned gave a less than enthusiastic agreement that Peter ignored to beeline for their seats. 

Thankfully, the lecture portion was short and straightforward – but not something he could ignore. His notes were illegible and harried.

Mr. Mahoney seemed excited too. Usually, his lecturing was long and arduous, but he’d always make time for questions and force them to participate. Today, he didn’t stop for any questions or even write much on the board. 

When he started to go over procedure and protocol Ned looked like he was about to jump out of his seat and Peter wasn’t far behind him. 

The energy was palpable to him, even the kids who never participated or consistently skipped were attentive. Dissection had been something a lot of the upper classmen hadn’t gotten to do with the old biology teachers, and as far as Peter knew, they were the only class to have it scheduled in so early into the year. 

A set of lab partners was released one by one to gather their supplies from the back of the room and wash their hands. Ned was so excited that he bumped into Peter’s backpack and nearly fell down between the desks. 

“Come on, come on,” Ned urged when Peter stopped to help him up. 

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed his things quickly and laughed as Ned made eye contact with him. 

Putting on the uncomfortably stiff goggles made his hair stick up and his damp hands meant that some water got caught in it. 

Mr. Mahoney was passing around their dissection kits carefully, and both Peter and Ned obediently stilled so he could place their kits just so. Instead of walking toward the next group though – he leaned toward them like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. 

“Would Ms. Stacy be able to join your group today? Her lab partner isn’t in class.” 

“Oh uh, yeah of course?” Mr. Mahoney seemed to take his confused answer at face value and set down a third kit. 

Peter found the encounter weird, and even Ned seemed unsettled by it. Usually, he would make a big deal out of someone missing class. It was an entire process that took an entire chunk out of class time – quiet acceptance was weird. 

Gwen, when she finally got to them looked like she’d jump at the drop of a hat. Even dressed in her lab gear, he could tell she’d been crying. 

Her normally clear blue eyes were rimmed with red and her hands couldn’t stop shaking. She had red splotches all over her face too. 

“You guys can just ignore me if you want. My dad’s on his way to get me anyways.” Peter tried to meet Ned’s eyes without making it obvious. This day was getting weirder and weirder. If he remembered correctly, Gwen’s dad was some high up cop that hadn’t even been able to make orientation. She always complained about how he was never there to do anything with her – it didn’t make sense that he’d be able to run and get her from school on a random Monday. 

“I uh, that’s up to you I guess?” Peter offered when Ned didn’t jump in, “We don’t mind letting you copy everything down as long as Mahoney doesn’t see.”

Gwen shrugged and leaned her arms against the table, then looked around the room for something before whispering, “Georgia’s starting her shit again and I have a bad feeling she’s being for real this time.” 

As the principal’s oldest daughter, the stories went that Georgia had automatically been put in the spotlight last year. Instead of being the success story everyone had thought she’d be though, she’d flunked all of his classes and had a reputation for being the biggest asshole in the school. 

Everyone guessed it was only her dad that kept her there, and she got in trouble so often that it had to be true. 

Sometime last year, Georgia started threatening to bomb the school or poison the cafeteria food. It had only been taken seriously once or twice, and he remembered going on lockdown for it back in September. 

Peter shuddered at the reminder, and Ned enthusiastically encouraged Gwen to continue on. 

“I heard her tell Todd from Geometry to find a reason to leave ‘cause he was gonna shoot the school up. Mr. Singh didn’t even call the cops or anything, just sent him to the office.” 

“Fucking Georgia,” he sighed, not knowing what else to say. The heaviness in Gwen’s voice was something he didn’t know how to deal with. They were loose friends and her cool demeanor always reminded him of MJ’s. 

Nothing bothered either of them, and it made Peter feel uneasy. 

“Maybe she just doesn’t like Mondays, I mean doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t know, it just gave me a weird feeling and my dad said he’d come get me since he’s getting off early anyways.” 

“Yeah no, I’m gonna see if my lola can get me. That’s weird to me too.” 

Peter shrugged his shoulders when Ned looked to him next. Sure he’d rather go home but May had done triples over the weekend and really needed to sleep. He could deal with a bit of anxiety over something that probably wouldn’t really happen. 

“May needs to sleep,” he looked pointedly at Ned, “and you know how she gets.” 

Ned shot off a text while Peter made sure Mahoney wasn’t looking and Gwen surprisingly started to work on the paperwork for them. 

As he and Ned worked, Gwen seemed to perk up a bit. She wasn’t as shaky anymore and though she didn’t seem to enjoy it as much as them, Peter took it as a good thing. 

Halfway through, a voice over the loudspeaker called for Gwen to go down to the office. A weight seemed to leave her shoulders as she gathered her things, but Peter had the weirdest feeling when he looked over at her. 

On the corner of the table, she’d left her water bottle. Peter tried to call out to her and let her know, but he guessed she didn’t hear him. 

“My lola said she’d come get me, are you sure you don’t wanna have May say she can take you too? Even if the school’s not for real you don’t know if Georgia is.”

That weird feeling he’d gotten when he looked at Gwen doubled when he met Ned’s eyes and he tightened his hand around the scalpel. 

“Yeah, I’ll text her.”

 The scalpel made a soft clink when he set it back down to reach into his backpack. 

“Eww dude, take the gloves off at least.”

“I don’t have another pair,” he hissed back, fumbling with his phone. 

Mr. Mahoney came walking toward them just as he got it unlocked, and he hastily dropped it back into the bowels of his bag. 

“Ms. Stacy, I thought your father was here for you?” He asked as she trudged back into the room. 

“He’s downstairs. I just forgot-”

From the other end of the classroom, a girl screamed. It was loud and shrill, something he’d only ever heard in horror movies.

Then Gwen’s body jerked and he heard a firecracker go off. 

She took a step forward, and blood started to stain her shirt. 

When she faltered and fell backward, Georgia was standing behind her, gripping a pistol so tight her knuckles were white. 

Everyone was running to the back of the classroom, shoving each other and trying to get as far away as possible. 

Scalpel still clutched in one hand, he grabbed his bag and made for the tight space between a display cabinet and a desk. 

There was nowhere to hide, not really. 

Georgia hadn’t moved from the front of the room, and she was shouting words that Peter couldn’t hear. 

His brain was on overload. Some people had upended a desk and tried to push it toward her. 

She shot both of them. 

Mr. Mahoney was sprawled out in the center of the room, next to Peter and Ned’s desk. He was weekly pressing a hand to his thigh. 

Georgia stepped over something – someone – and shot him in the head. 

He couldn’t see Ned anywhere, but the roaring of his heart was starting to be drowned out by shouting and screaming. 

In his hand, the scalpel started to shake. 

Something told him that there wasn’t any way he was leaving alive. 

He tried to look anywhere but at Georgia, but each time he tore his eyes from her they fell on Gwen’s water bottle, undisturbed on their lab desk. It had blood on it now. 

Georgia raised her hand again, and this time he caught the eyes of the girl it was pointed at a split second before she jerked and screamed. Her phone had been pressed to her cheek.

May, I need to say goodbye to May.

The scalpel didn’t make a noise when it fell, or if it did he couldn’t hear it. 

May didn’t answer on the first ring, and Georgia had started walking further into the room. 

“Peter? Peter, what’s going on? I don’t want you getting into trouble on the phone like this.”

He was the furthest from the back wall, which made him the closest to Georgia, who’d started flinging her gun around and shooting aimlessly. 

“I love you.”

The loud, heavy running up the stairs was silenced by the sound of two more firecrackers going off. 

Georgia jerked and fell down, the same way Gwen had. Only there was blood steadily falling from her forehead rather than her stomach. Her cheeks were a uniform, blotch of red and her pretty red hair was a mess all around her. 

Cops flooded the room, and he heard a loud, agonized scream that made him feel cold. 

Gwen’s dad Peter thought sluggishly. 

Someone, a cop maybe, knelt in front of him. 

More people started swarming around him, talking loudly and firmly. The first cop reached for his phone and he let them take it. His hand was falling slack anyways, and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold it much longer. 

Peter couldn’t hear what any of them were saying, and their faces had started to blur like he and Ned had gotten into May’s wine again. 

Ned was there too, and he was crying really hard. 

There was a paramedic – or EMT maybe – pulling at his clothes. Another was taking his goggles off for him. 

It didn’t make sense until he saw the blood on their gloves.

Oh

He tried to decipher the unintelligible words everyone was saying, and his eyes fell on the cop that had taken his phone. 

“We’re doing everything we can for him, ma’am.”

People kept talking, kept shouting. 

But his eyes were starting to hurt. His body hurt too, and he didn’t want to stay awake anymore.

[ar-lath-ma-cully]

Rating: E WC: ~1k Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Fandom: Marvel Warnings: Angst, Comfort Sex, Quickies, Summary:

It’s stupid, because Peter had already watched Tony die, once. He never wants to do it again, and if it happened he wouldn’t survive it, which is why he prays daily that when it does happen they’re taken by the same meteor or whatever is inevitably coming for them–but he survived it. Watching him die.

And yet you didn’t find Peter dragging Tony to the nearest available space for a trauma-fueled quickie.

*

Peter Parker Bingo 2023 B4 square fill: Sex in an Inappropriate Place

[theoisdaydreaming]

spideytorch entry - team red !!!! (≧∇≦)ﾉ

johnny distracting his boyfriend, as always

[asterias-record-shop]

♫ 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡… TASM!Peter Parker with the bingo prompt ‘himbo’?

alright, so the thing is I feel like peter is really book smart but he is so oblivious otherwise, like if someone flirts with him it goes completely over his head. so reader has been his best friend for years and recently has been trying to drop hints that she likes him, and eventually she gets fed up of him being so oblivious that she just kisses him and he gets all whiney and then they do the devils tango (i am so sorry i’m really awkward when requesting 😭) but could there also be a size and praise kink, as well as an oral fixation? (if you don’t feel comfy pls delete this!!)

i hope u have a good day/night 💕

—𓆩[my beautiful idiot]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

nvm anon honey i couldn't sleep without posting this, i hope you enjoy it!!!

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Best Friend! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.7K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter have been best friends for what seemed like eternity, and has been in love with you for what seemed like forever, but he’s not going to give up — no matter how much it seems like you don’t like him back. The kid you babysit though that is way too old to be babysat disagrees though, and tries to show him how much you were in love with him too.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - crossover time|| heavily inspired by this interview/edit with Will Poulter (love him so much) || cursing & foul language || mentions of violence || Peter gets hurt || whiny Peter is best Peter || smut warnings include oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, praise, size kink, breeding kink, oral fixation, possessiveness, marking kink, biting, hickies, possibly more?

Miles was a helpless bystander between the two of you. It never worked out, not whenever Peter was too stupidly in love with you he never saw the hints that you dropped.

“Peter, I’m telling you, she’s in love with you!” Miles wanted to strangle the other Spider-Man, very very violently.

“I don’t… I don’t think she is,” Peter mumbles, a pout on his lips as he swirled pasta around his fork, one that you often made because it was his favorite. Was that not hint enough? You knew his favorite fucking pasta! “I don’t think I’m her type.”

“Who’s type?” You walked into the living room, plate in hand full of the cream based pasta you made on the side.

“Yours! Your type!” Miles grins. “Your type.”

“My type?” You hummed, thinking as you tap your chin. “My type… would be smart. Handsome, funny. Nerdy,” you look over at Peter who was still pouting. “Loves pasta.”

Miles slurps up some of the noodles, nodding. “I wonder who that could be!”

“Yeah, I wonder,” Peter mumbles, face falling as he scooped pasta into his mouth. “I wonder.”

“Really? In this room?!” Miles yells, moving his hands to gesture around the apartment. “I wonder?!”

Peter looked around, eyes narrowing. “You like Miles?”

How the fuck could he be so stupid?

“That’s it! I’m done!” Miles stood, looking at you. “He’s hopeless! Completely and utterly hopeless!”

You sigh, standing up too. “I could’ve told you that.”

You go around the couch, taking Peter’s finished plate of food as his face scrunches. “Who’s hopeless?”

“Oh baby,” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. He didn’t think much of it, you did kiss him on the cheek often. “You are. You’re such a himbo.”

“A what? What’s a himbo?”

“It’s like… a beautiful idiot,” you press another kiss to his cheek, pulling back his chestnut hair from his face. “You’re my beautiful idiot.”

He pours as you walk away, Miles shouting out a goodbye as you finish your food and start cleaning up the dishes.

He didn’t want to be your ‘beautiful idiot’ — he wanted to be yours, overall and absolutely, he wanted to tick every box you ever wanted, he wanted to be yours. If he could, he’d want you to mark him as yours for forever and eternity, he just wanted you. He wanted a mark on him that said you owned him, just like you owned his heart for what seemed like forever.

“Peter? Don’t you have to go on patrol?” You yell out, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m going!” He goes into your room because he basically lived with you at this point, grabbing his suit and getting dressed with the door open.

“Peter?” You’re standing at the doorway, arms crossed as he stumbled into his suit, trying his best not to fall on his face. “Miles’ parents invited us over for dinner. I told them yes, you promise not to be late?”

“Yeah, I promise,” he grunted breathlessly as he quickly finished putting on his suit, looking around. “Where’s my mask?”

“Peter,” you say again, more stern this time as you walk over, bending down to pick up something from the ground. He froze when you stood in front of him, fixing his suit before handing him the mask. “Promise me you won’t be late.”

He smiled down at you, wide and his honey brown eyes shining. “I promise. Do I dress nice or casual?”

“Nicer than casual,” you say with a sigh, your hands rubbing against his chest to flatten out the suit, thinking about the fact he wore nothing underneath it. “I’m going to go over there early to help Rio cook, but I need you there by seven. Did you hear that? By seven. Dinner starts at seven-thirty, but I need you there by seven.”

He smiled, leaning down teasingly. “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, I’ll be there by seven.”

You sigh, a smile on your face as you pat his chest. “Be safe, and take care of Miles if he tags along, okay?”

“I will.”

You both stay there for a few seconds, his eyes staring at your lips as you worriedly push your hands through his hair. You did it often, so much so that it became something you didn’t have to think about doing, or it was something you did when you were nervous.

What you both did were couple things, why weren’t you together? It was because Peter was too much of a beautiful idiot to know otherwise.

“Promise me you’ll be safe, and protect Miles if he goes. Don’t eat on your patrol, Rio is making the best food ever. And you have to be there by seven.”

“I promise,” he pushed your hair back behind your ear, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“By seven!” You yell as he jumps out the window, sighing with a smile. “I swear, if you weren’t hot I would’ve stopped trying by now.”

It was seven-ten. Seven-fucking-ten. You helped Rio make arroz con gandules while she took care of the main course - chicken con sofrito - and she had also tasked you in making a grilled salsa. You were smashing it inside of the molcajete, the grinding and the scratching making Miles and his father wince.

“Y/N, honey do you want me to uhm… take over… that?” Jefferson asks as he comes closer to you.

“Nope,” you say as Rio dipped her fingers into the salsa and coughing. “Oh no, is it bad?”

“N-No,” she cleared her throat, coughing. “Just spicy, very spicy. Are you mad, honey?”

“You have no fucking clue,” you basically growled as Miles and Jefferson slowly stepped back.

“You have any clue where this kid is?” Jefferson whispers to Miles, looking over. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat that salsa.”

“I-I’ll find him,” Miles says, nodding. “Just… distract them.”

First, he checked your apartment. He looked around, searching for anything that would show Peter was home, and when he found nothing — it was to the streets he went. He changed quickly, already swinging out the window to find the beautiful idiot. It didn’t take him long, quickly going to their favorite spot and finding him lounging, snoring extremely loudly.

“Peter! Peter, what the hell are you doing?!” Miles slapped Peter through the mask, gasping when he saw the gashes and lacerations all over his body. “Holy shit, Peter!”

He snapped up, gasping as he looked around. “What time is it?”

“Like seven-thirty already dude!” He quickly looks around. “What happened?!”

“I was helping a bank robbery, got dammit, Y/N is going to kill me!” He tries to stand, groaning loudly as he holds his side.

“Stop moving! Stop! Y/N taught me how to stitch people up, just lay down!” Miles ordered the older Spider-Man, forcing him to lay back as he grabbed the medical supplies.

“There’s no point, they’ll heal soon enough, I need to get home. Y/N is going to kill me!” He quickly stood, the gashes already getting smaller and less deep. “Let’s go!”

Miles groans. “Am I the babysitter or you?!”

He swung after him, Peter quickly swinging into your room and looking through the dresser that held his clothes. “Oh, come on! Y/N moved my clothes around.”

“Y/N does your laundry?” Miles asks, groaning. “Do you not how in love with you she is?!”

“We switch on laundry duty! It was her weekend so I cooked,” he grabbed a button down, groaning. “Thank fuck she washed my favorite.”

He grabs some new underwear from the drawer, smiles face palming as he rushes to the restroom to get changed. “You're going to bleed through that!”

“No I’m not!” He yelled back, walking out in his new clothes. “I covered the stuff with gauzes.”

“Okay, go upstairs, I’m going to swing up to my room and change, alright?”

He nodded. “Right.”

They both went to Miles’ apartment in different ways, Peter knocking on the door and when it swung open, he smiled at you. You gasped when you saw his gashed face, quickly reaching up. “What happened?!”

“Bank robbery, I passed out on top of a building. So sorry I’m late.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands settling on your waist. “Dinner going well?”

“I-I made a salsa, are you okay?” Your hands quickly cup his face, twisting and turning as you sigh. “Rio’s going to freak! God fuck, Peter!”

He laughed. “You have no reason to worry, honey. I’ll just say I… ran into a tree.”

“A tree?!”

“Look at that! Peter’s here!” Miles yelled, running forward. “Let’s eat!”

When everyone sat down at the dinner table, it was obvious something was a little off. “I uhm… how is work, Y/N?”

You clear your throat, nodding at Rio’s question. “It’s going really well! I’m really happy there.”

“Peter, you moved in with Y/N already?” Jefferson asked, scooping food into his mouth. “It’s about time.”

“What do you mean?” Peter paused his actions of stuffing his face, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Well… you both are dating, right?” Rio asked, looking over at Miles. “Mijo always told us you were…”

“No, we’re not,” you say, a sad smile on your face. “But Peter does basically live with me! He does my laundry, cooks, you know, normal stuff.”

“Normal… couple stuff,” Rio filled in. “You pay rent too?”

“I-I tried, but Y/N didn’t let me,” Peter says softly, shrugging. “She said that she didn’t need my help with it.”

It goes quiet for a minute before Miles laughs awkwardly. “Hey, guys! I passed my biology test!”

You smiled when Miles saved you both from the awkward moment, cheering as everyone continued to talk about how they knew Miles was going to pass. Peter wasn’t that into the conversation, he was extremely preoccupied.

You both did do a lot of couple stuff.

For fucks sake, you both even slept with each other. Why weren’t you both dating, why?

When dinner was done and a few drinks were put in after Rio forced Miles to go to bed, you both went back up to your shared apartment. You giggled as you opened the door, smiling back at him. “Do you want to watch a movie or go straight to sleep, what do you want to do?”

“Can I talk to you, Y/N?” He slowly takes your hand, pulling you toward your room.

You giggled, shrugging. “Well, straight to sleep it is then.”

He sat on the bed, parting his legs and pulling you between them making you giggle. “Everything okay?” You whisper, pushing his hair back as you leaned down to press your forehead to his. “I know something’s not. What’s up?”

“Why did you say we’re not dating?” He pouts up at you, a giggle falling from your lips. “Hey, it’s not funny! We… we do things that couples do, why aren’t we a couple? I know… I know you might not-”

“For fucks sake Peter, shut up.”

He gasped as you pulled his face up, your lips pressing to his as your nails softly press into his skin, soft but firm all at once. He groaned loudly, his hands pulling you closer before you pulled away, a whine falling from his lips. “What’re you doing?”

His words were almost slurred together even though the alcohol he drank had little to no effect on him. It makes you laugh as he leaned up, pressing more kisses to your lips before he pulled your body solidly against his own, fixing your position so that you sat on his lap and your hands were around his neck. “What baby, you don’t want me to stop kissing you?”

He hummed, shaking his head. “No, you can’t… ‘s unfair.”

You started to laugh even harder as he basically whined, trying to pull you down for more kisses. You hummed as he started to lay back, hands pushing through his hair. “I need you… I need you, Y/N.”

You rose a brow, rolling your hips into his. “Need? Need’s a big word, baby,” you respond, smiling down at him as he groaned into your neck. He shifts you both so that you were laying on your back, leaning down to keep kissing your lips.

He was addicted, now that he had one taste, he never wanted to stop. His tongue pushed into your mouth, desperately swirling his own around yours as you groaned into his mouth, the minute he pulled away was when you swallowed the mixed saliva gathered at the back of your throat. You hummed as he leaned down, his lips pressing to your for a quick kiss, going over and over again with small breaks in between.

“Peter,” you giggled, his mere hum the only proof he was listening. “Are you just going to kiss me or are you going to get a little adventurous?”

He pauses, tilting his head. “Adventurous?”

You laughed. “Fuck, my beautiful idiot,” you pulled him down for another kiss, your teeth grazing his deliciously making him groan before you pulled away. “You can put that mouth to better use somewhere else.”

He paused, his mind taking a minute to process. “Oh. Oh, yeah!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he quickly pressed one last kiss to your lips before letting his lips slowly, slowly trail down your body while slipping off your clothes, his nimble fingers leaving a trail of fire on your now bare body. He paused as he stared down at you, his eyes dark and pupils blown as he inhaled.

“So fucking beautiful.”

His words make you groan, hands pushing your thighs apart as his head slowly pushes between them, his mouth already hot on your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue already exploring your wetness and his fingers pushing into your slit, smearing all of it up and down before settling it on your clit.

He wasted no time, groaning as your hands thread through his hair, holding onto his brown curls like the were handles and your thighs settling on his shoulders. He paused though, pulling away making you whine softly, head tilted again. “This is okay, right? I should’ve asked.”

Fuck, why was he so fucking adorable? “Yes honey, this is okay. More than okay.”

He smiled widely, biting his lip. “Good, because your cunt tastes even better than your mouth.”

You gasped as he pushed his face between your legs again, his lips latching on your clit as he pushed a finger inside of you. Your back arches, eyes widening before they roll back into your head, his finger pushing and pumping trying to find the right rhythm, teasing you. He gasps as you tug on his hair, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he groans against your clit, the vibrations making you shiver.

“F-Fuck, Peter.”

He hummed, enjoying the feeling of your cunt clamping down on his finger, curling it inside of you to feel your body writhe underneath his touch. His eyes roll back as a shiver runs down his back, groaning into your clit that he never let his mouth off of for too long, only shifting his head to get into a new angle. You tasted so fucking good, your swollen clit evidence of his torment, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t describe, he could feel you, all of you.

He could feel every clench of your walls, every shiver that ran up your back. He could hear every stutter of your breath, the skip of your heartbeat, every soft whimper you tried to hide as that one finger continues to find every pleasure spot that not even you knew existed. He could taste you with every lick, every suck of his mouth, his teeth even grazing your sensitive skin if he got too focused.

He finally pulls away from your clit, a thick string of saliva attaching your swollen bud of muscles to his lips, your hips bucking as he stares at your greedy cunt trying to suck his fingers back in every time he pulls out. He groans loudly as the shiver running down his back gets stronger, and the twisting of your stomach turns tight, your thighs shaking as your hips rut into his fingers until his mouth joins the actions of sucking on your entrance as another finger attempts to push into your pussy.

You gasped as your hips bucked without warning, your spongy walls enveloping both of his digits, and your mind blurring from how hard the orgasm hits you. Peter doesn’t even stop though, groans falling from his lips as he pulls out his fingers making you whine, your attempts to ride your hips into them failing. His tongue pushes into you though, a gasp leaving your lips as you automatically tighten your thighs around his head, not that he was complaining.

He could be like this for hours, his tongue pushing into you as his thumb rubbed circles into your overly-sensitive and swollen clit, hard but focused and his fingers pushed back into you. His tongue never stopped moving though, flicking and lapping, his mouth sucking and popping sensually against your pussy, groans that sent vibrations from your pussy straight to the growing knot in your stomach making you whine.

You had just cum, but it wasn’t like he had probably even cared about what it would do to your body, how sensitive it would make your body to every movement he made. His mouth sucked on the opening of your cunt, opening his mouth wide to push his tongue into you as your hips buck into his mouth. Your fingers tug on his hair, whimpering as he rolled your clit between his thumb and pointer with his other hand, his tongue thrusting into you as far as he could, an ache forming in his jaw as he tried to get his mouth anywhere and everywhere on your body.

He could feel the sparking along his spine again, your stomach clenching all over again as his fingers rubbed against that sensitive spot inside of you. His fingers twist, curling inside of you as he tries to push another finger into you, the stretch making you scream out as a shiver runs down his spine, a shaky groan leaving his lips as he swallows everything leaking out of your cunt.

He wanted more. He wanted to taste everything coming from your cunt, everything you had, just everything. He didn’t want to stop, his third digit pushing into you and the squelching filled his ears, his breathing heavy and panting into your cunt. His thumb continues its torment on your clit, rubbing and the shocks running through your body as your thighs shake and fingers shakily scratch against his scalp.

Your body was coated in sweat, stomach tight as his fingers edged you onto the climax of another orgasm, they always came quick after the first. Your body was sensitive all from him, your nipples hard and pebbled from the cold air of your room, bottom lip bitten raw from trying to hold back your moans before he squeezed at your clit - the only thing he needed to do to get you to start moaning out for him.

He loved the sounds you made, getting drunk off of your moans and whines combined with the taste of your arousal and your cunt making his dick hard and his senses overflow. He pushed his three fingers into you as deep as he could, all the way to his knuckles to watch your cunt convulse and feel those same sparks on his spine.

“Peter! Peter wait, Peter- fuck!”

Your third orgasm brought you to tears, vision going black as you squeezed your thighs together, hands gripping his chestnut curls as you tried to steady your breathing. He hummed into your cunt, softly patting your clit making you yelp in surprise, parting your legs to watch as he slowly pulled away. “Are you alright?”

You stared at him, almost dumbfounded. “Y-You… you just ate me out and made me cum three times and you’re asking if I’m alright?”

His brows furrowed as he leaned up, wiping his mouth before licking the back of his hand where all your juices went and kissing under your eyes. He was careful not to get too close to your actual eyes, just in case, only kissing where tears fell. “You’re crying. I don’t like it when you cry.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck after he slowly pulled off his shirt and tugged his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off. “I’m crying out of pleasure. You make me feel so good, Peter.”

He smiled widely down at you, leaning lower to press another kiss to your lips. “Well, I want to make you feel better. Especially with how good you’re making me feel, princess, you make me feel so good. Make me so happy.”

“W-Wait!” Your voice was loud, surprising him as he stared up at you in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-I… I want to ride you. Please?”

He pauses, but nods with a smile. “Alright. But you can’t be gentle. Don’t be gentle. I want it all.”

You nodded, laughing loudly as he twisted you both over, helping you steady yourself over his aching cock. It was long, thick and veiny, tip red and leaking precum in desperation as he whined, bucking his hips. You giggled, slowly wrapping your hand around his before he nodded and watched as you slowly sunk down.

You gasped, nodding as he slowly pushed into you, his head tilting back and his mouth falling open. Your eyes rolled back into your head, vision blurring as his girth stretched you out even more, every time you thought he bottomed out the more he kept pushing. You whined loudly, hands pushing against his chest as he groaned loudly, eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath.

His body was sheening with sweat, a smile blooming on his face as you dug your nails into his chest, scratching against his skin as you tried to compose himself. This is what he wanted when he wanted you to claim him, he wanted your nails to scratch on his body, your mouth to leave hickies and bite marks, he wanted to be yours.

He watched as you slowly started to bounce on his cock, his eyes staring at your bouncing tits before letting them wander down your body, staring at the bulge on your lower stomach. He hissed loudly as you got harder, fixing your position as your clit rubbed against his pelvis, eyes rolling back.

Your cunt felt just as good wrapped around his cock as it did wrapped around his tongue and fingers, every movement had it squelching and convulsing around his shaft, loud groans falling from his lips as his large hands settled on your hips, thumbs settling on that giant bulge on your stomach.

He watched your mouth fall open as you screamed out, fixing both of your positions to buck his hips up into you and watch your boys fall forward. He kept your body against his, flipping you both over to wrap his arm around your body and press his face into your neck, groaning loudly into your skin as your nails dragged against his back.

He thrusted as hard as he could, desperate to find his climax as your body bounced with this thrusts, loud moans leaving your lips with each thrust and his name falling from your lips over and over. “Yes baby, you’re doing so good. Your cunt is so fucking good baby, I love the way you feel around my dick,” he groans, gasping as your mouth pressed to his skin. “Fuck, fuck yes princess, I want to be covered in you. Want your hickies and your kisses, your scratches and your bites, I don’t care, I want to be covered in you.”

You obviously didn’t expect him to be so into marking, but of course, you weren’t going to say no. You sucked bright purple marks on his skin, digging your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your screams as the bed slammed into the wall, the squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin echoing against the wall was enough chorus of your sex.

You could feel his dick driving into the deepest parts of you, stretching your cunt so that if you looked down you could see the bulge that just seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers rubbed against your clit, whispers of praise falling from his tongue as those same sparks ran up his spine, his stupid little mind finally connecting the dots. “Are you about to cum? Are you about to cum baby?”

You nodded your head into his marked up neck, your tongue slowly licking against the bite mark on his neck as you whined into his neck. “Fuck, fuck Peter! Fuck, I can’t, I can’t!”

“Yes you can baby, you can,” he whispers, pulling away to hold your chin. “Look at me fucking you baby, don’t you want me to keep fucking you? I’ll make you feel better than you make me feel, I’ll fuck you so good. I’ll pump all my cum inside of you and you’ll be such a perfect girl for me and take all of it, right?”

Your eyes rolled back, mouth lulling open as you nodded mindlessly. “Yes! Yes, I will, I’ll take all of it!”

“Fuck, fuck Y/N, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to cum inside of you, fill you up and watch all of my cum make your stomach bulge,” his voice gets huskier, almost like a growl as his thrusts get rougher, messier. “Fucking hell!”

You screamed this time, watching as he completely pulled out of you just to slam back in, your mind blurring as he continued to pull out and slam back in. You could feel your thighs shaking, that knot in your stomach threatening to break. “Peter, Peter! I’m going to cum, I need to cum!”

“No!” He whined, shaking his head as he started to get faster, his hips rough as his hands held your sides, eyes rolling back. “I’m gonna cum, cum with me. Please honey, I want to feel you, I need it.”

A final scream falls from your lips as he bottoms out, eyes rolling back and body shaking as your fourth orgasm absolutely blurred your mind, endless babbles leaving your lips as he panted above you. He stared down at your stomach, the bulge that shouldn’t have been able to get bigger successfully larger. “Fuck honey, look at what I did to your pretty tummy.”

You did, your mind still slightly hazy, but your mouth fell open when you saw the bulge and a whine fell from your lips. “Y-You’re still hard.”

He smiled. “It’s from the spider bite.”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡ keep them coming for Bingo!!

Bingo tag 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪   𓆩[@yoongiwife23]𓆪 𓆩[@urlocalbum12-blog]𓆪

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪   𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪   𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪   𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪   𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪  𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪   𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪   𓆩[@c78r]𓆪   𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪   𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[erinwantstowrite]

I know this is so random and not related at all to any of your AUs but I think it’s so funny and I’m cackling and I have to share with the class because I know you’ll appreciate it.

Yknow that “who will I be tonight…that’s the question?” trend on TikTok? Specifically when it’s between two different accounts that are like really popular? Imagine that but if Spider-Man had an official TikTok and did that but between his account and J. Jonah Jameson’s. Imagine the chaos. The theories.

please tell me you see it cause I think this is so funny.

I can so imagine Peter getting fed up with JJJ one day and doing this and then immediately regretting it because JJJ goes on a warpath. imagining the chaos that would happen online is killing me. i just know someone finds out what happened via the Destiel meme, too. "I love you" "J. Jonah Jameson just came out as Spider-Man."

[ordon-pumpkin]

Spideytorch Bingo: Bicker/Flirt

I feel like as much as these two have bickered and playfully flirted, when one of them is super sincere about the flirting the other has a hard time believing it. Even if it’s very obvious. Of course here Peter is also grappling with the fact that he’s really been enjoying Johnny’s flirting lately. They are such dorks.

In retrospect I kinda wish I would have done a few panels instead of one but I thought of that too late in the process to change it. Lol I still like it.

[anarchyspider]

Quick little roommates prompt art for the 2024 Spideytorch Bingo!

[slightlydepressedmelon]

~ spideytorch bingo free space ~

[truebluedreamer]

I thought we were friends

Rating: E (very mildly, there's just a short mention of cocks at the end, really) Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Fandom: Marvel Tags: Fluff, mutual pining, friends with benefits (the loosest definition) Summary: Peter has never really thought about it before: how other people see them.

He's thinking about it now, though.

*

Peter Parker Bingo 2023 B1 square fill: Friends With Benefits Finished Bingo below cut:

[pparkerbingo]

ROUND 2 COMING SOON!!

[incorrect-spideytorch]

Spideytorch BINGO!!

I wanted to celebrate our beloved spideytorch with an opportunity for the fandom to share the love so I decided to create spideytorch bingo!

Here is the board! Rules for the event will be listed under the cut.

The rules!

The event will begin on Sunday July 15th 2024 and run until Thursday August 15th 2024

Please tag submissions with #spideytorch bingo 2024

Posts on any site are welcome not just tumblr as long as you still use the tag

You can do as many or as few squares as you want and you do not actually have to get bingo

Anything is welcome as a submission from headcanons to fan art to fics to aesthetics to anything in between large or small

NSFW submissions are allowed but MUST be tagged as such

No negativity just in general be kind to one another

If you have any other questions use my ask box and I will be happy to answer them!

Can’t wait to see what everyone makes!

[blooming-violets]

Hurt/Comfort Bingo Card - Dragging themselves along the ground

Bring Your Kids to Work Day

[tasm!peter x fem!reader]

TW: effects of fire and smoke inhalation, descriptions of a dead body, injury of a child, it's a fic about being trapped in a burning building with a child so you'll be reading grim descriptions of that

A/N: I started this bingo card almost exactly one year ago and I've only finished five fics from it since. Slow and steady, baby!

Bring Your Kids To Work Day. Of course, it would happen today, of all days. 

Your office building was nothing special. Four stories and a basement. It paled in comparison to the surrounding towering skyscrapers. The newspaper company you worked for was located on the top floor. A local, independent newspaper that tried to focus on uncovering the truths the Daily Bugle would fabricate. Your company was barely staying afloat as it were. People enjoyed the gossip more than the truth. The struggling business thought today would be a wonderful time to allow their children to come and witness what their parents did each day. There were only about twenty employees total and, over half of you didn’t have children, so there weren’t that many kids in attendance. It was adorable at first. You got to meet your coworkers' kids and even got to snuggle with a five month old. You thought about texting Peter that you were coming down with a terrible case of baby fever but chose to wait until you saw him in person to spring the news on him. 

It was supposed to be a good day. 

Until it wasn’t.

“Hey,” your desk mate, Jenny, tapped you on the shoulder. She had her two twins in tow, Ollie and Ellie, the cutest set of four year olds you think you’d ever witnessed. “Would you mind watching these two while I run down to my car? I left my purse there. I’m parked in the garage just across the street. I shouldn’t be too long. It will take me ten times longer to drag them along with me.” 

You beamed, more than happy to oblige and help fuel your growing need for your own kids, “I would love to!” You turned your attention to the twins and gave them a wink. “I even have a secret stash of lollipops hidden in my desk. I was hoping to find someone to share them with.” 

Both their eyes lit up at the prospect of the sugary treats. 

Ellie squealed, “You can share with us! We’re good at sharing! Right, Ollie?” She elbowed her brother and he happily nodded in agreement. 

Jenny clasped her hands together in thanks, “You’re a lifesaver. I’ll be right back. You two be on your best behavior.” She ruffled the tops of their blonde heads before turning to hurry out of the office. 

You pulled open your desk drawer to show them the pile of lollipops hidden in there. Your inherent sweet tooth was worth any potential cavities. The sugar helped you get through your days of uncertainty, never knowing if the paper would go under or not. You rolled your chair out of the way to let the kids grab what flavor they wanted. 

Soon, the three of you stood around, lollipops sticking out of your mouths, while you waited for their mother to return. 

“Did you guys have fun today?” You asked. 

The twins both hopped into your chair, squished side by side, while you slowly spun them around. 

Ellie nodded, “Yeah. Mommy let us watch Moana on her phone.” 

That wasn’t exactly the answer you were looking for but a room full of introverted writers and stacks of newspapers everywhere wasn’t going to be the most fun for a young child. 

“I love Moana,” you sighed happily. “Maybe I’ll watch that when I go home tonight.” 

“I like Maui,” Ellie replied. “He’s funny. Will your mommy let you watch it on her phone?” 

You were starting to get the sense that Ellie was the dominant one of the twins. Ollie mostly grinned up at you, staying silent, with big, round eyes and cherry red staining his lips from the lollipop. He was adorable and you wanted nothing more than to eat him up. You really needed a baby of your own…

“I don’t live with my mom anymore,” you answered.

“You live alone?” She gasped, looking sad for your wellbeing, as if living alone was the worst thing her little mind could ever think of.  

You laughed, “No. I live with my boyfriend.”

Ellie made a long “ooooo” sound, followed by a fit of giggles, “A boyfriend! Is he handsome? Is he a prince?” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself, knowing Peter would get a kick out of this conversation, “Yes, I think he is very handsome and, no, he’s not a prince. Not in the royal sense, at least.” 

“I think Aladdin is handsome. I’m going to marry him,” Ellie paused to listen to what Ollie was now whispering in her ear. A mischievous grin spread across her face. “Ollie says he’s going to marry you when he grows up!” 

They both burst into high pitched giggles. 

“He thinks you’re pretty like Moana,” Ellie laughed. 

“I would be honored to marry Ollie,” you smirked, growing fonder of these two the more time you spent with them. Jenny had tried to get you to babysit for them before. You think it might be time to accept that offer. Peter and you could play house for a night. “I think he’s as sweet as a lollipop.” 

Ollie’s shoulders rose up to his ears as he shrunk into himself with a bashful smile, “I’m going to be Spider-Man when I turn 5. The real one. Not a pretend one.” His voice was hardly above a whisper and you had to lean forward to catch what he was saying. 

“You mean I’ll get to marry Spider-Man?” You widen your eyes in feign shock. Peter would absolutely love this conversation. You knew he would be just as smitten as you. “That sounds like a dream come true.” 

Ellie nudged his shoulder with hers, “He always says he loves Spider-Man because we saw him in real life one time. He swung above us when we were driving home from preschool. He waved at Ollie. It was so cool. We never saw a real live superhero before that. Mommy made us Spidey masks. I can tell her to make you one, too. Then we can all match.” 

“That sounds amazing. I think Ollie would make a wonderful Spider-Man some day.” 

“Are you guys talking about Spidey?” Harrison, the office college intern, strode up behind you with a coffee mug in hand. “He saved me one time. Some bad guys shoved me into an alley with guns to try and mug me. They were going to shoot me if I didn’t give them everything in my pockets.”

You shot him a death glare for talking about gun violence in front of the young children but he ignored you. He could tell he had them hooked with his story and was enjoying their attention. You rolled your eyes at the young man. You’d heard this tale about a hundred times before. He brought it up whenever he could. He finally had new and excited ears to listen to him. 

“Were you scared?” Ollie asked, his eyes wide . “I never sawed a real gun before.” 

“Yeah, I was so scared, but then something amazing happened.” Harrison knelt down to better hold their attention. “Spider-Man jumped down behind the bad guys. He was as silent as a cat. The bad guys didn’t even know he was there until he started talking.” 

“What did he say?” Ellie whispered, leaning in closer to catch every word. 

“He said, ‘Hey, assho- uh, I mean- hey, buttheads! You mind if I join in the fun?’ and then he started shooting his webs at them until they were all tangled up. He hung them off a street light like some human pinatas for the police to get. Then he came back with my wallet and phone in hand, tossed them over to me, patted me on the top of my head, and told me to enjoy my night.” Harrison ended his story with a satisfied sigh. 

You had asked Peter about the validity of the interns story once. He claimed he couldn’t remember the exact insistence but that it sounded like something he would do. Then he started bragging about how shocked Harrison would be if he knew you were sleeping with the “world famous” Spider-Man. That was when you had shut him up with a kiss before his boasting became too much. 

“I gotta go potty,” Ollie huffed, like it was such a shame to leave a conversation when they were discussing superheroes. You would have to get Peter to meet the kids some day in his suit. They would lose their minds. Actually, you should have him meet Harrison some time too, just to watch the young man fangirl. 

“It’s down the hall,” You pointed him in the right direction. There was only a single bathroom on the floor that the entire office had to share. 

Ollie jumped off the chair and made his way to the bathroom, pausing at the door to look over his shoulder at you. 

“That’s the one!” You called to him. “You found it! Yell if you need any help.”

He smiled and disappeared inside. 

“Did you get Spidey’s autograph?” Ellie asked Harison. 

He shook his head, “Sorry, kiddo. Not that time. I was too shaken up. If I ever meet him again, I’ll make sure to snag one for ya.” 

He tipped an invisible hat to the little girl and made his way back to his desk. Being the youngest in the office, he got stuck with the one directly next to the bathroom, in the spot no one else wanted. You watched him plop down into his rickety wooden chair and smile happily to himself. He was a good kid. Talented, with a lot of potential to be a future investigator and reporter. 

You finished your lollipop and tossed the stick in the trash, “What else did you like doing while you were here besides watching Moana and talking about Spider-Man?” 

Ellie shrugged, “Mommy let us color on some newspapers. I drew a cat farting out rainbows. We wanted to make a fort out of all the stacks of papers but she said it was too dangerous and might fall. She didn’t want us to get crushed. Can we look out the window to see if we can see her? I want to wave to her.” 

“Sure. Come on,” You took her tiny hand and helped her hop down from the chair. 

The best features of the old building were its large windows. They ran from the floor to the ceiling and had a beautiful arch at the top. They were the kind of windows you could happily stare out of for hours. 

Ellie pressed her nose up against the pane, her breath fogging up the glass, “I don’t see her yet.” 

You looked down, searching the sidewalks for Jenny, and shook your head, “Me either. I’m sure she’ll be back any moment. Keep an eye out for her.”

Your voice trailed off as something caught your attention. Two people were sprinting down the street, a look of sheer terror plastered on their face. Even from four floors up you could easily see how scared they were. The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly sprung to life as you watched more people round the corner. All running. All terrified. You couldn’t hear the screams behind the thick glass but you could see the way their faces contorted. 

They were screaming for their lives. 

You felt a strange disconnect between the people on the ground and yourself. Like watching a movie inside of a dream. They felt like they were in a different reality from your own. Behind the crowd appeared a giant ball of moving fire. It took a few seconds for your brain to process what you were seeing. The closer it got, the more you realized it wasn’t just fire. It was a man encased in the flames. At first you thought maybe he was on fire but then you realized he was the fire. He was controlling it and bending it to his will. He was what the people were running from. He was the danger they feared. 

He tossed fistfulls of balled up flames towards the running people and haphazardly shot them off into the windows of every building he passed. He was creating a flaming destruction in his wake. A villain who wanted to watch the city burn. 

And your building was next in line. 

Your hand immediately went to grab onto the back of Ellie’s shirt as your own reality finally caught up to crash with the people below. You dragged her down onto the floor just in time for the big window to explode into shards of flying glass and rain down over the tops of your heads as a ball of fire burst to life against the back wall. The wood paneling went up in flames in a matter of seconds. People were screaming as chaos broke out. They were grabbing their children and sprinting towards the nearest exit. Loose pieces of newspaper floated down around you, some igniting on fire mid flight, and sizzling to soot before they hit the ground. Glass fell from your hair to trickle down under your collar and rolled down your back as you pushed yourself onto your elbows. Ellie was whimpering beside you, tears filling her eyes, and she reached a shaky hand out to hold onto yours. You gripped it tightly, noting that she had a small, bloody cut across her cheek from where the glass hit her. 

“It’s okay,” you shouted to her. The wailing sounds of the fire alarm bursting to life deafened your words. You weren’t even sure Ellie could hear you but you were speaking more for yourself anyway. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We have to get up quickly and get out of here.” 

Tears brimmed in her eyes and you read her lips form the words, “You’re bleeding…” She pointed a fearful finger near your forehead. 

You reached up and felt a large, jagged piece of glass sticking out from over your eyebrow. You gripped onto the shard and pulled it from your skin. A rush of warm blood waterfalled down over your cheek, blurring into your eyes. You didn’t feel any pain. 

“We have to get up,” you shouted to her again. 

Ellie grabbed onto your hand as you both scrambled to your feet. 

An old, wooden building and a floor covered in newspapers were no match for the ravenous fire. It was rapidly engulfing everything it could devour. In the short amount of time you spent on the ground, half your office was gone. Between the blinding, red hot glow of the flames and the white flashing lights of the fire alarm, mixed with the deafening sounds, you were overwhelmed and disoriented. 

“Stairs…” You mumbled to yourself, trying to focus your panicked thoughts. “We have to get to the stairs.” 

Thick black smoke was already starting to fill the small space. Whatever limited vision you had seconds ago was quickly dissipating. You caught a glimpse of your boss ushering out the last few remaining employees out of the door. His arm motioned for you before a wall of smoke blocked him from view. At least you had the right direction. 

You tried your best to duck down low as you dragged Ellie behind you, keeping a death grip on her tiny hand, as you forged towards the direction of the stairs. She kept planting her heels into the ground and tugging against you. She was screaming something that couldn’t be heard over the wailing alarm. 

You yanked her by the arm up to your side and wrapped her in a tight embrace, “Stop fighting me! It’s okay! I’m going to get us out!” 

“Ollie!” She cried. “We have to get Ollie!” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. She was right. 

Ollie was still in the bathroom. 

Your eyes scanned the room. You couldn’t see more than two feet in front of you. The smoke was starting to irritate your eyes. They burned and watered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks. 

You scooped Ellie up into your arms and sprinted as fast as you could towards the exit. Your thigh crashed into the corner of a flaming desk, sending your body jerking in the opposite direction, but you ignored the sharp pain and did your best to blindly correct your course. If you could just pass Ellie off to your boss then at least you wouldn’t have to worry about her safety while you tried to find Ollie. 

You stumbled to the exit, nearly slamming into the wall, only to find your boss already gone. You tried to pull open the door but reeled back when you felt white hot, searing pain burn into your palm. You couldn't hold back the scream of shock that burst out of you. The metal handle was impossible to hold onto with your bare skin. Thinking fast, you tried to wrap the bottom of your shirt around the handle to pull open the door. The pain still burned through the thin cotton but you managed to open it just enough to stick your foot through. You kicked the door open the rest of the way and shoved Ellie into the stairwell.

“Go down the stairs and out the door!” You shouted at her. “I’ll be right back!” 

The stairwell was pitch black apart from the flashing white light of the fire alarm. It made it difficult for your eyes to gain their bearings, making you feel off balance, like walking through a funhouse at a carnival. Ellie stood frozen in place. Her entire body was shaking with fear. Black soot was staining her skin. Her eyes were watering, either from crying or the smoke, as they illuminated with each flash of the light. Her pant leg was soaked through with urine pooling by her feet. At some point she had lost a shoe. You knew she was too petrified to move. 

“Ellie, go!” You tried to give her a small shove, knowing how important timing was to get to safety, but she didn’t budge.  

“Ollie’s scared!” She cried. “He’s scared. We have to get him. Don’t leave us! I want mommy. I want mommy. Where’s my mommy?” 

There was no time to think. No time to argue with her. No time to convince her. You were afraid that if you left her there, she wouldn’t move, or get lost, or trapped. You knew children’s instincts in fires were often to hide instead of run. You didn’t trust this 4 year old to make it out on her own. She would get lost in the crowds below. Swept away in a sea of people. You couldn’t leave her. The risk was too high. She had to come with you. 

You lunged for her hand, forcing the two of you down to your knees to army crawl under the smoke. It was getting harder to even see your two hands in front of your face. Sweat dripped down your back. Your lungs were starting to ache as they filled with toxic gas. Both you and Ellie kept coughing but you dragged her along beside you, refusing to let her out of your grasp. You knew if you let go, you wouldn’t be able to find her again. 

The wooden floors were heating up. Fire raged above you. It was on the ceiling now. Eating everything in its path. You prayed that Ollie was still inside the bathroom and that he was unharmed. You couldn’t see, struggled to breath, and your body was reaching unhealthy temperatures. 

Down the hall. 

That’s all you had to get to. Down the hall and first door on the right. 

A charred, wooden beam fell from the ceiling and landed directly against your right arm. The flames licked at your exposed skin as the wood splintered and cracked. You flinched away from the pain, nearly crawling on top of Ellie to get away from the heat. Fire was on nearly every side of you now. The left, the right, and above all glowed orange in the darkness. Orange every way you looked. It seared your retinas until all you could see was the blinding light. The heat was forcing you down as low as your body could manage, pressed tightly against the floor. 

You had no idea where in the office you were now. You didn’t know if you had traveled one foot or twenty. You just kept inching forward. You knew if you reached the back wall, you would have gone too far. 

This was a mistake. You should have gotten Ellie out first. You were leading her straight to her death. The flames would eat you both alive. 

The noise all faded into a constant loud roaring in your ears until it dulled into nothing like your ears decided to stop working. Instead, you felt the rumbling noise in your chest. Your brain was vibrating in your skull. Smoke blocked out the orange the further you crawled into the fire. It snuffed out everything in its wake. All you could see was black and all you could hear was your own blood pounding in your ears. It was like being in a terrible nightmare. If you closed your eyes, maybe you would wake up somewhere else. You felt like you were floating. Drifting. It was getting hard to breathe. You’d forgotten what fresh air felt like. Ellie was getting slower, too. You were having to drag her more. She was smaller than you. She would die first, you thought. 

A canary in the coal mine. 

You had to get to Ollie. And then what? You could hardly drag Ellie this far. There was no way you would be able to pull along two terrified children all the way back to the exit. There was no guarantee it would even still be accessible. This side of the building had no fire escapes. You’d get to the bathroom and then you’d be stuck. The three of you would be trapped inside. The fire was spreading too fast. You weren’t able to outrun it. 

Your hands bumped into something on the floor. The bump was enough to recenter your attention. You felt around with your free hand wondering if you had gone too far and hit the back wall. You fumbled around you with touch being your only working sense. This was no wall. It was something soft. Fleshy. Your hand found fingers. You traced up their arm and over their shoulder until you found a face. You dragged your body closer and tried to see through blurry, smoke filled eyes who it was. It was only when you were centimeters from their face, your noses touching, that you could make out any features. 

Harrison was staring back up at you. His bright blue eyes were unblinking. His face still. You shook his shoulder but his eyes showed no signs of life. Half of his face was bright red and outlined in charred black from where the fire had devoured his flesh. It had eaten him nearly down the skull. There was no breath in his lungs. No life in his eyes. He was gone. 

Dead. 

He had just turned 20 last month. 

Harrison’s desk was right next to the bathroom. 

That was the only thought you allowed yourself to think. Your emotions had disappeared along with your hearing. Your mind was set on a single track. 

Get to the bathroom. 

That was it. 

That was the goal. 

You crawled over Harrison’s body. Your knees sunk into his chest, feeling the crack of his ribs underneath you, as you pushed your weight off him to propel yourself forward. Ellie was like a dead weight, a ball and chain, attached to your arm that you had to drag along with you. Her head was lolling limply back and forth as you pulled her over the body after you. She wasn’t moving on her own anymore. Maybe she was dead, too. Maybe you were dragging the corpse of a child around. You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You just had to get the two of you to the bathroom. Dead or alive.

You used your hand to feel along the wall for the bathroom door. The old wallpaper bubbled under your skin. A part of your brain was telling you that what you were touching was extremely hot and burning your flesh but, since you no longer felt anything, you didn’t stop until your fingers brushed over a hinge. 

You scrambled around for the handle, gripping it tightly, and yanked open the door. Heavy black smoke immediately flooded into the tiny room. You quickly pulled Ellie and you onto the tiled floor and slammed the door closed with your foot. You lay staring up at the white ceiling being clouded with rising smoke. Your lungs sucked in the cleaner air. The fire hadn’t touched this room yet. Besides the smoke that you let in when you opened the door, it was relatively untouched. 

An oasis amongst the desert sands. 

You slowly let your eyes wander into the corner where Ollie sat huddled. His legs were pulled tight against his chest and his arms were clinging onto them. He stared at you with wide eyes, glancing tearfully between your soot covered face and his motionless sister. 

A surprised laugh fell from your lips which quickly turned into another coughing fit. You rolled onto your side, hacking up black saliva over the white floor. 

“You’re alive,” you croaked out to the scared little boy. 

You forced yourself to sit up. Wads of wet paper towels were lined up on the ground. You realized Ollie had stuffed them under the door to stop the smoke. Smart kid. They have been pushed to the side when you opened the door. You quickly bent down to shove them back into the cracks, keeping the smoke at bay, and then turned to find Ellie. 

She looked so small face down on the floor. Her pink t-shirt and blonde hair were now completely black. You rolled her onto her back in a daze. It was hard to think. Hard to move. You felt like your limbs were full of wet cement. You stumbled onto your feet, your head spinning with a pounding headache, and grabbed some brown paper towels from the dispenser. You tried to run them under the sink but the faucet wasn’t working so you dunked them into the toilet water instead. Then you turned to Ellie and began wiping the soot from her mouth and her blocked nostrils. Her chest rose with short, labored breaths. Her eyes were caked close from the greasy smoke residue so you tried your best to wipe them clean too. She was still alive but she wouldn’t be for much longer if she didn’t get out of here. There was no way you’d be able to carry her body back through those horrors with Ollie in tow. You were too weak. Too sick. The three of you were trapped. This would be your fiery coffin. 

“Spider-Man will save us.” 

Ollie’s tiny whisper hardly reached your broken ears. You gazed through half closed lids over your shoulder to look at the boy. You were starting to forget who he was or what his name was. His words felt foreign to you. All your thoughts were moving at a sluggish pace. 

Spider-Man. 

Save us. 

Yes…yes…Peter. 

You fumbled to grab your phone out of your pocket. Of course, Peter would save you. There was still hope. 

The black grime coating your fingers wouldn’t let you use the touch screen and you let out a frustrated cry.

“Siri!” You whined, the desperation heavy in your tone. “Call Peter Parker.” 

“Calling Peter Parker,” her pleasant, robotic tones echoed back to you. It was a stark contrast to the nightmare you were currently living through. 

You sunk against the wall, slumping into yourself, feeling like the world was spinning. Peter would know about the man with the fire. He would know he was on your street. He would know it was your building. He would have been searching for you right now. You’d just have to stay awake long enough for him to find you.

It rang twice before his panicked voice answered, “Where are you? Tell me you're safe.” He sounded breathless and far away to you, like listening to an echo bouncing off an underpass. Your body was starting to shut down. 

“Bathroom. Trapped.” It was all you could say before what little vision you had left started to fade. You didn't have much time left. The oxygen in the room was running out. 

A small hand wrapped over your wrist as the boy snuggled up to your side. 

Ollie. His name was Ollie. 

Ollie and Ellie. The cutest set of twins you had ever seen. 

It was supposed to be a good day. 

“Spider-Man is on the phone,” you mumbled to the frightened child. “Talk to him. He’ll keep…keep…keep you safe…he’ll find you…” 

Ollie picked up the phone. He was speaking into it but you couldn’t make out anything he was saying. You were floating away to wherever Ellie’s mind was currently being held. Someplace away from here. Away from the flames. Someplace without smoke. Somewhere you could breathe again. 

You were going to close your eyes. Just for a minute…one, little, short minute…

A crashing rumble of bricks being smashed startled you back to life. You tried to take in what was happening but your brain was stuck in a haze. One of your hands was clutched onto the front of Ellie’s shirt and the other was holding onto Ollie. Someone else was in the room with you. It was smokier than it had been when you had closed your eyes. Time had passed, that much you knew, though you were unsure how much. Something was breaking a wall. Bricks were flying. It was filling the room with white smoke to compete with the black and blocking out whatever sunlight was attempting to push through the holes being created. 

“It’s okay,” Ollie spoke into your ear as he curled up next to your side, noticing that you were awake again. “Spider-Man is here. He’s saving us just like you said.” 

Peter. 

Your sweet, beautiful Peter. You had no idea when he got here or how but he was here and he was breaking apart the side of the building with his bare hands so they could escape. 

You tried to focus your attention on Ellie. Her eyes were open now and she was curled onto her side. She was weak but somehow she was still alive.

The masked face of Spider-Man appeared in your line of sight. His hands were on either side of your cheeks as he cradled your face in his palms. 

“Stay with me. Don’t you drift off again. I’m getting you out of here.” 

There was a steadfast determination in his voice. Many months ago he once told you that he refused to ever let you die. You had laughed at him then, telling him that was impossible, not even Peter Parker could control death. He had told you it didn’t matter. He would fight Death himself with nothing but his two fists if it meant getting to hold onto you for another day. 

He had meant it then and he was proving it now. 

“Get the kids first,” you croaked. “Get Ellie to an ambulance.” 

“I can hold all of you at the same time!” He bent down to scoop Ellie into his arms. She offered no resistance but was too weak to hold onto him herself. Her head flopped against his shoulder and her eyes closed. Ollie leapt up into his other arm and clung tightly around his neck. 

He couldn’t hold all of you and manage his webs at the same time. He was lying to himself and to you. 

“Can you get on my back?” He tried to fight the reality he was being faced with. He didn’t want to leave you behind but you both knew the children needed to be evacuated first. As stubborn as he was, not even Peter would choose you over them. Children came first. Always. That was the life and sacrifice of a hero. 

“Peter,” you ordered, forcing what little energy you had into your words. “Take the kids. Hurry. You’re wasting time.” 

The fire was at the door. You could feel its heat on your back as you leaned against the wall. The smoke was pushing through the cracks. The wet paper towels had long since failed their duty at keeping it at bay. Time was slipping through your fingers.  

“I’ll be right back!” He shouted. “Stay alive or I’m going to kill you.” 

Then he was gone. 

The smoke was becoming too much. The heat was getting too strong. It forced you to drag yourself across the floor towards the hole in the wall. You let your head hang outside, gulping at the fresh air as the black smoke rose above you. The smell of singed, burning hair hit your nose. You could see the ends sizzling orange from your peripheral vision. You were starting to feel pain again as some of your senses slowly returned. You looked down at the pavement four stories below you. It was getting too hot to bear. Your skin was screaming. A part of you wanted to keep dragging your body into the fresh air even if it meant you’d fall. For that one second of falling, you’d be free from the oppressive heat. Behind you meant death. In front of you meant death. 

All that you had left was Peter. 

At least the kids were out. If you were able to accomplish anything today, it was that. 

Even if Peter did most of the work. You were able to start what he could finish. 

Your lids felt heavy. Your breath was weezing. Your chest ached and your right fist was clenched close from the pain. The skin on your palm was black and peeling from where you had gripped onto the burning door handle. You wanted it all to be over. 

The pavement never looked so enticing. 

It was supposed to be a good day. 

You dragged yourself further out the hole so your entire chest was now hanging over the edge. Your body was craving the clean air. It desperately wanted to escape the heat. You pulled yourself a little further. Inch by inch. Flirting with the idea of death. 

“Oh, no you don’t!” 

The scruff of your shirt was balled into a fist as you were lifted upright into the safety of Peter’s arms. You were swinging through the air. The wind in your face never felt so delicious as it slid down your shriveled lungs. He was holding you tightly to his chest and using one arm to swing you away from the burning building. 

Tears sprung into your irritated, red eyes. 

You were out. Free from the fire. Free from the smoke. Alive. 

“I got you, baby,” he chirped against your ear. “I got you. I’m not letting you go anywhere I can’t follow.” 

He landed softly on a rooftop a few blocks from the chaos. There were people who still needed his help. A villain to be fought. Damage control be done. 

But he didn’t care about any of that. 

Peter placed you delicately onto your bottom on the roof and he knelt down in front of you, tugging off his mask to get a proper look. 

“I’m going to bring you straight to the hospital but I need to see you first,” he whispered. “I just need to look at you…make sure you’re still here with me.” 

He slipped his hands free from his gloves to push back your singed hair from your face. He grabbed his mask to carefully wipe away some of the soot from your eyes. 

“You look like you clawed your way straight outta hell,” he smiled down at you but his eyes held his real feelings of worry behind them. He looked like he was on the verge of tears. You both knew how close to losing you he had come today. 

You cracked a half hearted smile of your own, “I think I did.” Your voice was unrecognizable to your own ears and a constant, high pitched shrieking sound kept ringing in your head. 

“You’re okay,” he asked. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant as a question for you to answer or a statement he was speaking to help ease his anxious heart. 

“I’m okay,” you replied. “I’m alive, at least.” 

The further away you got from the fire, the more pain you started to feel. It wasn’t just your hand that was hurting now, the pain was shooting all the way down your back, and your right arm felt stiff and unable to move.

“I told you I wouldn’t ever let you die. That’s not allowed. We’re going to die together, hand in hand, snuggled up in bed like The Notebook.” Peter leaned his forehead against your own and took a deep breath. 

“Okay,” you mumbled, lost in the moment of softness, until the thought of Ellie and Ollie crashed to the surface. You gasped and jerked away, horror etched onto your face. “The twins!” 

He tugged you to him, kissing your temple, “They’re safe. I send them off in an ambulance. I think the little boy will be fine. The girl looked like she was suffering from serious smoke inhalation. I had to give her CPR when I showed up. She wasn’t breathing. I got her to wake up. She’ll be seen right away. Speaking of which-” He stood back up, pulling his gloves and mask back on. “The hospital is exactly where we need to get you.” 

Peter scooped you back into his arms and hopped onto the ledge of the roof, “You ready?” 

“I’m ready.” 

[junimo-hexed]

First square of my DC obscure character bingo! I decided to make my own amalgam styled character by merging Lonnie Machin and Peter Parker. This is my 4th design attempt and in my mind what would be Lonnie’s first spider suit.