aFireFist
A Life in Marvel
Chapter 10 - Part 2
Another blast from one of the crew members still on board caught Peter off guard. He took it in the shoulder again, pain flaring hot through his suit. He crashed hard into a stack of secured cargo crates, the wood and metal splintering around him. The impact shook the entire section of the ferry.
Then one of the stolen weapons in a nearby crate started humming louder — unstable, glowing with that sickly green Chitauri energy. The sound cut through the chaos like a warning siren. Peter's spider-sense screamed at him, a sharp buzz at the base of his skull that made his teeth ache.
"Get back!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, swinging toward the crate. "Everybody move! It's gonna blow!"
But it was too late.
The weapon overloaded with a sharp, deafening crack that split the night. The explosion wasn't massive like a bomb, but it was enough. A violent shockwave ripped through the ferry's midsection. The metal structure buckled hard right down the middle with a horrible, twisting metallic scream that echoed across the water. Beams snapped, rivets popped, and the entire deck shuddered violently. Water rushed in fast through the growing gap, cold and dark, flooding the lower levels in seconds.
People started falling. Screaming. A woman near the railing lost her grip and slid toward the churning water, clutching her purse like it could save her. A teenage boy tumbled off a bench, grabbing desperately at anything. Parents were shouting for their kids, the sound mixing with the groan of failing metal and the roar of incoming water.
Peter's heart hammered in his chest so hard it felt like it might burst. "No—no, no!" He moved on pure instinct, firing webs left and right as fast as his arms would let him. One strand caught the woman sliding toward the edge and yanked her back to safety against a pillar. Another web caught the teenage boy mid-fall, pulling him up onto a stable section of deck. "I've got the civilians!" he yelled, voice raw with effort, already swinging to the next group. "Toomes, help me or get the hell out of the way! These are people, not targets!"
Toomes stood on the tilting deck a few yards away, wings still deployed, breathing hard. His face twisted — a mix of raw anger, deep frustration, and something closer to guilt flickering in his eyes. A large chunk of overhead decking broke loose and started falling straight toward a small group of kids huddled near the railing, their parents trying to shield them.
For half a second Toomes hesitated, jaw clenched. Then he raised his wing and fired a precise blade, slicing through the falling debris. It broke apart and splashed harmlessly into the water instead of crushing the kids.
"You happy now, Parker?" Toomes shouted over the chaos, voice strained. "This is what your hero shit gets us! More people caught in the middle!"
Peter swung past him, webbing a man who had slipped on the wet deck and was sliding toward the gap. "Then stop making it worse! We can still save them! Work with me here!"
But it wasn't enough. The ferry was splitting faster now, the gap widening into a roaring chasm of black water. The two halves drifted apart, metal screeching in protest. People were panicking badly — slipping on the soaked decks, crying out for help, clinging to railings and each other. A mother was screaming for her daughter who had fallen into the water near the edge.
Red and gold streaked across the sky like a shooting star.
Iron Man hit the water between the splitting sections with a massive splash, repulsors flaring bright blue in the darkness. Tony had been monitoring the situation from his suit high above the city after getting an automated alert from one of the Stark cargo trackers Peter had tipped him off about earlier. He'd been dealing with paperwork and a late-night board call when the readings spiked. One quick scan of the ferry's distress signals and he was already in the air.
"Kid!" Tony's voice cut through the chaos over the comms, calm but urgent. "Secure the starboard side! I'll handle the rest! Move!"
Peter didn't argue. He swung across the growing gap, firing webs nonstop. He caught an elderly couple sliding toward the water and pulled them to the more stable side, their grateful cries mixing with the roar. He grabbed a mother clutching her baby and swung them both to safety, landing hard on the deck. "Hold on! I've got you! Just a little longer!" His voice was hoarse, shoulder burning from the earlier hits, but he kept moving.
Tony worked the other half with brutal efficiency. Repulsors strained as he lifted massive sections of twisted decking, stabilizing the structure with heavy cables and beams deploying from his suit. "I've got the port side locked down," Tony called out. "Keep pulling them clear, Underoos!"
Together they cleared the remaining passengers. Peter webbed and swung, yanking people out of danger while Tony provided the heavy lifting — literally holding the ferry together by sheer force of his suit's power. One by one they got everyone to solid ground on the dock, coughing, soaked, and shaken but alive. Emergency crews were already arriving, sirens wailing in the distance.
When the last civilian was finally safe on the dock — a young girl Peter had pulled from the water wrapped in a blanket from a responder — Tony landed heavily beside him. The faceplate flipped up. The man looked exhausted, eyes tired but sharp, suit showing some stress marks from the strain.
"You did good, Parker," Tony said, voice steady despite everything. "Real good. I was wrong about the training wheels. Keep the suit. You've earned it."
Peter stood there breathing hard, chest heaving under the damaged suit. The adrenaline was still pumping hard through his veins. His shoulder burned from the energy blasts, and his hands were shaking slightly from the nonstop webbing. "Mr. Stark… I— thank you. I didn't think you'd get here that fast."
Tony waved it off with a tired smirk. "I was already in the suit dealing with some other nonsense when your little tracker started screaming. Figured I'd check it out. Good call planting those, by the way. Saved me some time." He glanced at the wrecked ferry, then back at Peter. "You handled yourself out there. Not perfectly, but… you prioritized the people. That's what matters. Just… try not to die. And maybe work on your timing with the whole dance thing. Girls hate that."
Peter managed a weak, exhausted laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… I owe Liz a serious apology. And probably a lot of flowers."
Tony gave him a quick nod, the smirk fading into something more serious for a moment. "You're learning, kid. Keep at it." The faceplate closed again and he rocketed back into the sky, disappearing into the night.
Peter stood there for a long minute on the dock, the weight of everything settling heavy on his shoulders. The ferry was a wreck, half-submerged and twisted. People were being treated by paramedics, wrapped in blankets, giving statements. Sirens were loud now, flashing lights everywhere. Toomes and the rest of his crew had slipped away in the chaos, vanishing into the night like they'd never been there. The immediate threat was over, but the ferry was destroyed, dozens of people traumatized, and Peter knew deep down this wasn't the end of anything.
He slipped behind a nearby warehouse, changing quickly back into his ruined dress clothes. The fabric was torn in places and still damp from the water. His shoulder throbbed badly as he stepped out and flagged down a cab a few blocks away, mind racing the whole ride back toward Midtown High.
Back at the gym, the dance was winding down but the energy still felt thick enough to cut with a knife. Morgan stood near the punch table with Gwen pressed close against his side, her body warm and a little sticky under the emerald silk. They had just finished cleaning up after the intense foursome in the review room, but it wasn't enough. Gwen's thighs were still slick, her pussy tender and full of his cum. Every small shift made her feel it leaking slowly into her panties.
Liz had just rejoined them, her blue dress hugging every curve — full tits straining against the fabric, wide hips swaying as she walked. Her cheeks were still flushed, and she moved with that soft, satisfied sway of someone who had been thoroughly fucked not long ago. MJ leaned against the wall in her tight black dress, long legs looking endless, that bored expression not fooling anyone who knew better. Her nipples were still visibly stiff through the fabric.
The three of them exchanged a look, then pulled Morgan back onto the dance floor without a word. The lights were low, the music slow and heavy with a deep bass that vibrated through the floor.
Gwen moved first. She stepped right up to him, her powerful body rolling against his. The emerald silk clung to her thick thighs and firm ass like it had been painted on after everything they'd done earlier. She turned slowly, pressing her back flush to his chest, and started grinding. That strong, round ass pushed back in smooth, deliberate circles, the firm cheeks flexing under the thin fabric. Morgan's hands settled on her hips, feeling the muscle work as she moved.
"Still feel you dripping down my thighs," Gwen murmured over her shoulder, voice low and husky. "Every time I move I remember how many loads you pumped into me back there."
Morgan groaned quietly, hands sliding lower to grip her ass. "You're soaked through that dress already."
She laughed softly, then pushed back harder, rolling her hips in a slow, filthy wave. Her ass cheeks spread slightly against him with each grind, the silk sliding over his crotch. People nearby were starting to stare. A couple of football players near the wall watched with open jealousy, one muttering something to his buddy while adjusting himself. Gwen didn't care. She kept working her ass against Morgan, the movement confident and powerful, her thick thighs flexing visibly under the dress.
Liz cut in next, sliding between them with a shy but hungry smile. She was softer and curvier than Gwen, facing Morgan fully as she pressed those heavy tits right against his chest. The blue fabric strained as she rolled her hips forward, grinding her soaked pussy against his thigh. Her thick ass filled his hands perfectly when he grabbed it, soft flesh spilling between his fingers as she worked herself against him.
"Been thinking about this since we left the room," Liz whispered, lips brushing his ear. Her breath was warm. "I can still feel you leaking out of me. Peter left and all I could think about was how much better you feel."
Morgan squeezed her ass, pulling her closer. "You're still swollen from earlier. I can feel how wet you are through the dress."
Liz moaned softly against his neck, rolling her hips in deeper circles. Her heavy tits dragged across his chest with every movement, nipples hard and obvious. She ground her thick thigh against his growing bulge, then pushed her ass back into his hands, letting him knead the soft, jiggly flesh. A group of girls nearby whispered furiously, eyes wide at how shamelessly Liz was moving on him. One guy looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
MJ took her turn with that signature smirk, stepping in close. She was taller and leaner, but no less intense. One of her long legs slid between Morgan's as she ground down, her tight ass flexing while she rolled her hips in tight, filthy figure-eights. Her perky tits dragged across his chest with every movement, nipples brushing him through the thin black fabric.
"You're killing us out here," MJ muttered, voice low and dry but edged with heat. "All three of us walking around with your cum still inside us. I can feel it every time I move."
Morgan's hand dropped to her tight ass, squeezing as she dropped low and slid back up slowly, dragging her pussy along the length of his cock through their clothes. "You three are gonna get us caught."
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