#the other creatures were just WAITING for dick to allow them to feast

[ghost-bxrd]

Fae dick will break the joker after Ethiopia.

Heck yeah.

Fae? Or any other creature? They’re vindictive. Vindictive to a fault. And loyal. They don’t give away their love easily. Yeah, they can feel fond of things. Even like them. But love? Familial or otherwise? That’s sacred to them. More so to Dick, who already had to suffer losing his family once. So this? Yeah, he’s not having it.

But oh, if you think Joker’s just gonna get killed off then you’re so, so wrong. There are so many other ways, better ways, to make a human suffer. Worse things than death. Worse things than any kind of torture humans could come up with.

Dick makes Joker pay. Every second Jason had to spend with that madman is amplified tenfold, stretched into eternity. Dick traps him in a nightmare he will never wake up from. By the time he’s done with Joker, there won’t be an ounce of that monster left inside that sick little brain. There won’t be anything left of the joker.

By the time Dick allows the creatures to eat Joker alive, the man’s been begging for death for what translate to several centuries to the human mind.

[vixenpen]

To Resist Temptation pt.3

(Priest! Hawks x Succubus Reader)

(This is the last part and it’s just a blasphemous as the rest of them.)

Keigo worshipped you. You were his goddess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t attend mass, couldn’t lead sermons, couldn’t do his charity work—nothing—without desiring you, and the personal heaven between your legs.

You had consumed him entirely. Lust was his damnation now.

Keigo paced anxiously, feverishly dabbing at his brow as he pontificated to his rapt congregation. Stupid, gawking things all of them. He couldn’t help, but think. Those nasty, blasphemous thoughts of his only grew stronger by the day.

And then, you slipped in. Keigo’s golden eyes fell on you. Your painted lips, sparkling eyes, bouncing tits, and swaying hips. And his mind grew cloudy with thoughts of you.

The two of you had taken to communicating covertly through those tempting, stylish outfits of yours.

Pink when you wanted soft, tender loving. White when you were feeling chaste, wanting only to spend some time with him. And red when you wanted to be fucked. Well and truly fucked.

That was the color you wore today. A red wrap dress. The same color as your plump lips.

It was the first time in weeks that you’d worn red.

Keigo stalked back towards the podium to hide his erection. His golden eyed gaze was zeroed in on you.

“Now, if you all will allow, I want to talk speak on the whore of Babylon. The temptation and sin that she represents. The way she presents herself in so many forms, taking root in our lives permanently as she beckons us to bed her.”

Every venomous word was spat with such passion and radiating with such underlying lust, that it shot straight to your core. Keigo’s amber eyes remained fixed on your own as he continued to preach on the whore of Babylon.

He was angry for having to wait for sex for so long, and you knew it. You had counted on it.

You smirked at him as you uncrossed your legs to reveal your sex—wet, and warm, and shaved.

Your smile widened when Keigo stumbled over his impassioned speech. Then his voice softened into a gentle, loving tone that you had become all too familiar with.

“But there’s beauty in that scarlet whore’s hell,” he all but purred, “and it may look like heaven to a man easily lead astray...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The church was dark and quiet. Keigo stood at the podium in a daze, gazing unseeingly at the empty pews where he’d been for half an hour now.

Finally, you emerged from your hiding spot where you always waited for the rest of the congregation to clear out. The red heels you wore, were muffled against the carpet as you marched through the center of the aisles.

The sun beamed through the stained glass depiction of Jesus and spilled over your approaching figure, bathing you in red.

His goddess. His devil. His light. His darkness.

You stopped just at the stage, and smirked up at him, hip cocked and arms folded.

“That was quite the performance you out on today, father.” You taunted. “Though next time, maybe refrain from all the innuendo. Why don’t you just tell them we fuck in the confession booth every other week?”

Keigo gripped the wooden podium so hard his knuckles turned white. He hung head.

“You’re the only thing that feels real anymore.” He mumbled almost as if to himself. “You’re all I think about. All I want. I don’t deserve to call myself a man of god.”

You ascended the steps and joined his side.

“No, you don’t, you never did.” You replied, laying a gentle hand on his back. “That wasn’t the path meant for you, my love.” You nuzzled his cheek.

When he spoke again he sounded broken. His smooth voice cracked under the weight of his emotions.

“What did you do to me? Please, goddess, you have to be honest with me.”

Grabbing his shoulders, you turned him to face you. Your beautiful face was soft with sympathy.

“I made you something better.” You caressed the stubble on his cheek. “I made you what you were always meant to be. A creature of sex like myself. Every succubus or incubus yearns for their twin flame, love, but not all of us find it. You’re mine. Now I don’t have to worry about the temptation. You were meant for me, Keigo.”

The man’s mouth was gaping slightly as he took in your words.

“You...you’re a-“

“Succubus, yes.”

And suddenly, like a light being flicked on, rage shrouded his handsome features.

“It’s because of you,” he hissedx “You’re the reason I’m like this.”

You said nothing.

“You don’t even care do you?”

You scoffed.

Your lack of an answer only angered the young priest more.

“Oh, not responding, huh?” He grabbed your arm roughly, spinning your body until your torso was flush with the podium. “I know what’ll get an answer out of you, whore.”

The fire was back. It rushed over both of you. Consumed the two of you from the inside out.

Keigo groped at your curves, desperate and clumsy.

You sighed and groaned as he squeezed your breasts, manipulating them out of the dress

“You knew exactly what you were when you came in that day.” He mumbled against your neck before bending you over.

A strangled moan fell from his lips as he massaged your round ass before exposing it to the cool, still air of the chapel.

“Dick hungry slut,” his hand landed against your plump bottom.

It made you moan. Such a beautiful sound. How he had missed your moans. He did it over and over again until his hand stung.

“A whore hungry for the souls of good men deserves to be fucked this way.”

You felt the tip of him run along your lips and bent over further.

“How daddy?” You cooed in response. “How does a dick hungry whore like me deserve to be fucked?”

Keigo growled low in his throat before slamming himself into you.

“Looking at these chairs,” he grunted back, rocking his hips. “Thinking about all those lost, idiotic souls who could’ve fallen prey to a Jezebel like you.”

Your juicy walls gripped and grabbed at his dick with such hunger, you thought you might absorb the man. Every thrust, every nasty word, every insult, every spank; sent an inferno of pleasure rushing through your body.

Keigo spat on your holes, admiring the beautiful skin of your ass and the pretty lips of your pussy as he plunged into you.

“You did this to me,” he sank his thumb into the puckered hole of your ass. “It’s your fault I no longer believe in his grace. It’s your fault that I’m a sinning fuck. A liar. A joke.”

If that’s what he wanted to believe. Then sure. You’d allow that for now.

You groaned as his finger slipped in and out of the tight, sensitive hold of your ass. His dick hit your gspot with every slam.

“You-you...” he practically sobbed. “You’re the only thing that feels as good as his love was supposed to.”

Your tongue lulled out of your mouth. The intense build up of your desire grew so swollen that it smothered your senses.

“Ahh, daddy! Fuck!” You twerked your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“Kei-Keigo,” you gasped between they squirting and thrusting and screaming. “It was you that allowed yourself to be corrupted, wasn’t it?”

Without missing a beat he replied, guiltily; “Yes, goddess.”

“Because, ah, a small part of you-oh fuck-never believed in the word to begin with. Did you?”

His hips stuttered.

“No,” he replied, his voice meek and quiet.

“Lie down.” You commanded, calmly.

Without hesitation, he lie down on the floor. The way he gazed at you was reverent as he awaited further instruction.

You stood poised over his hard on, looking down at this pitiful new incubus. He needed you. He craved you. Poor thing.

Slowly, you sank onto his dick, forcing him to feel every crevice and ridge of your dripping pussy until you were balls deep on him.

You rode him like a thoroughbred until his mouth fell open.

“You were always a sex crazed whore weren’t you, pet?”

“Y-yes, goddess.”

“Yes what?” You hissed. You squeezed his neck, red coffin nails digging into the skin

“Ahh fuck, y-yes I’m a sex crazed wh-whore goddess.” He croaked.

You leaned down until you were right in his flushed face. Keigo struggled to crane his neck towards you. He wanted to taste you. Needed it so badly that it hurt.

“Goddess, please..” his hips bucked weakly. “My goddesss, I-I, ahaaa!”

He came. Hard. His eyes crossed. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“You’re my slut aren’t you?” You snapped in a low, demanding voice. You jerked his head against the floor. “Say it!”

“I’mmmm y-you’re slut, goddess. I’m your slut.”

The desperate strain in his cracking voice made your pussy convulse with pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as you rode out your orgasm again and again and again.

Keigo was sobbing from the over stimulation. It hurt. It hurt so good.

“Goddess,” he whimpered, “stoppp, please, p-please, goddess.”

Your wicked laughter filled the chapel as you mocked him.

“You want me to stop, slut? Hm?” You hummed. You squeezed his throat again. In a sinister his you spat; “Then beg. Beg, my little pet incubus.”

The man’s lips trembled.

“Mercy, goddess,” he groaned. “Mercy on your pet slut, mercy. Mercyyy, fuccckkkk mercy!”

After feasting on his pleas a while longer, you finally hopped off of his half mast erection.

You kissed the man’s trembling lips over and over again, whispering words of love and praise in his ear for being so good.

“What do I do now, goddess?” He asked, weakly. “Who am I now?”

“You’re mine, pet.” You kissed his temple. “You’re mine.”

[marvxlousqueen]

So Fucking Sore- Bucky x Loki x Reader

i have returned from the dead to deliver this smut for my friend’s birthday LMAOO anyways for this let’s just pretend tony killed thanos in endgame and brought back nat and gamora and nobody died haha yes anyways bucky is a simp in this tbh (and i’ve never written for loki so forgive me if it’s bad LMAOO)

anyways happy bday bestie (don’t wanna expose ur name on here lol) love u <3

word count: 3.5k

The Avengers compound was more full than it had ever been. Finally, every floor was filled, every guest room taken, some sleeping bags even rolled onto the floor. Tony hadn’t planned to host the entirety of the avengers force, some odd one thousand people. After defeating Thanos and fixing the time lines, Tony felt as though they deserved a break and a celebration. Although most people were still recovering and wouldn’t stay for long at the party, he figured laughter is the best medicine- that, and he always loved an occasion to show off his hosting skills. 

Tony’s invitation even extended to the staff at the compound, which is how (Y/n) found herself holding a rsvp letter, trying to decide which box to check off. 

“Yes [   ]  (+1)   No [    ]”

She fumbled with the letter, pen getting heavy in her hand. She was seated in her office, taking her lunch break in between helping some of the injured Wakandan soldiers. Being an on-site nurse, of course she had had encounters with the team, but nothing like this party would be. 

Would it be embarrassing if I didn’t have a plus one, she thought

She was interrupted by a knock at her door. “Come in,” she said without looking up. 

The door slowly opened and Bucky entered, small smile on his face. 

“Hey.. just figured I’d bring you some snacks. Figure you must be real busy in the infirmary.”

He set a plate of strawberries on the table with a bottle of water, metal arm extending towards her. (Y/n) could briefly see her reflection in the shine of the vibranium. She lost herself for a moment, examining his arm.

“(Y/n)?” 

“What- oh yeah! Super busy. Thanks, Buck,” she gave him a smile, cheeks burning.

They had always had some sort of chemistry, but she just couldn’t quite get a read on it enough to make a move. Ever since reconnecting with Steve, Bucky had gotten back into his old ways. Still a giant flirt, just maybe a little more shy than in the 40s. He loved to toss some pick up lines around whenever he wound up in the infirmary (which was a little too often), so (Y/n) couldn’t figure out if he really liked her or was flirty with everyone. 

“What’s that you got there?” He motioned to the rsvp letter on her desk, still unanswered.

“Oh, invitation to Tony’s party thing this weekend. Think he’s trying to get a head count for seats and food. Don’t think I’m going to go, though.”

Bucky pulled up a chair to her desk, “Why wouldn’t you go? You should be celebrating too, I mean- half of us wouldn’t be in this good of a condition without your healing hands.”

His lips pulled into a smirk as he saw her smile shyly. He loved how we could always make her melt at the slightest compliement.

“I think it might be a little embarrassing to show up without a plus one.. I don’t know, it’s probably stupid, but it seems like everyone has someone, you know?”

(Y/n) shrugged, not sure how else to explain her thoughts.

Bucky nodded, running a hand through his hair, “So- what, you’re waiting for someone to ask you?” 

“I- No, but it would be nice, I guess.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. Here’s my chance, he thought. A chance to get some real action because I’ve been out of it for too fucking long. 

(Y/n) looked up at him, waiting for a response. When nothing came, she pushed through her nerves. “You don’t have a date, do you?”

His eyes snapped up to hers, wide with worry. “I-uh-no. D-don’t need one. Just a party, you know? Kinda stupid to get a date for a party like this.”

“Oh- yeah, totally,” (Y/n) stumbled over her words, facing burning with embarrassment. Did he call me stupid? Well, I guess that answers my questions- he is definitely NOT into me. 

 Bucky almost slapped himself after seeing the way (Y/n)’s face dropped. THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG!! He meant to come off as relaxed and nonchalant like he used to be, but instead he sounded like a dick. 

Before he could get an apology out, another knock was heard from her office door. “C-come in!”

Steve opened the door, “Hey- oh hey buck,” Bucky awkwardly waved at him, still busy screaming at himself, “anyways, (Y/n)- Thor’s got friends on the way and apparently they got a little scuffed up on the way from Norway, so you think you can head in and check on em?” 

“Yes! Totally! Uh- bye Bucky, I-I’ll see you.” She jumped out of her seat and rushed off down the hall, happy to get away from this tension with Bucky.

Steve watched her speed off down the hall before turning back to his old friend. “So.. how’s that going?”

Bucky sighed, “It’s not going at all. I think I accidently called her dumb? I don’t know- I kinda blacked out for a minute there.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder, “You’ll be fine. You got plenty of time to fix anything and make your move when you’re ready, all right?”

He understood how his friend was having some difficulties. While he was far more stable then he used to be, Bucky still had his moments and was working through them. Steve couldn’t be prouder. 

“I guess you’re right. As long as no other guy tries to scoop her up.”

--

(Y/n) entered the infirmary, breathing hard from the speed walk she took to escape that awkwardness. Laying on two of the beds was a tall man with long black hair and some sort of creature with knives attached to it’s hands. 

“(Y/n)! My friends require your services!” Thor shouts, embracing her in a hug.

She laughs as he squeezes her tightly, “Of course! Now let me go so I can help-”

The man who was reclining on the first bed sat up, eyebrows raised. “You’re a healer?”

She looked towards him, noting his accent was similar to Thor’s, “Well- no. Not a healer, just a nurse, but I’ll do my best. With all this new tech it’ll be real easy to batch you up. What happened?”

Thor spoke up, “My dear friend here,” he motioned toward the creature with the blades for hands, “Miek- got into a argument with my dear brother and knives were thrown. Just minor stab wounds of course, but it would be nice for them to be healed before Stark’s feast.”

“Your brother?” She looked towards the man with black hair, who offered a smile. “You’re Loki?” 

“The trickster god indeed.”

Her face heated up, partially in fear and partially in awe. Before her was the man who constantly tried to rule Earth. “Are you-,” she turned to Thor, “is he allowed to be here?”

“Of course! He aided me in our fight against Thanos. He stands as an avenger now.” 

Loki rolled his eyes and began to spin a small knife he pulled from his boot.  (Y/n) nodded, still registering everything, “Well, uh , okay then. Where’s the stab wound?” 

Loki moved to lift his shirt. On his left side was a gash still dripping blood. (Y/n) took a deep breathe, forcing herself to focus on his wound and not the outline of his abs and the way sweat was dripping down.

“Oh- jesus christ, okay. Let me get some stuff.”

The creature on the other bed made a noise and (Y/n) realized he was injured too, a small blade sticking out of his leg. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She ran to the other side to grab materials and begin patching them up. The process went like a blur. All she could feel was the way Loki’s body felt warm against hers, not like the cold she was expecting from his being a dark elf. His hand brushed against hers as he admired her handy work, eyes moving from her face to her form. Finally she was done and seated back in her office, yelling at herself for being so horny today for no goddamn reason. 

As she took a seat once again, she noticed the still blank rsvp card.

God-fucking-damn it

She still had a decision to make. As she went to check the “No [   ]” box, her door opened. Loki walked in and quickly made himself comfortable, sitting across from her. 

“I wish to thank you for the help.”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes wide, “Of course, yeah, anyth-”

“I also wish to invite you to Stark’s feast.”

She froze, mouth slightly open. I don’t even know this dude! And he’s killed a shit ton of people..

“Uh, well,” oh fuck it, “I would love that. Thanks.”

He smiled, “I’ll see you then, (Y/n).”

He left and closed the door behind him. She rushed to fill out the card and went to find Tony. Knowing him, he’d probably be down in his lab playing robots with Morgan. (Y/n) hopped in the elevator and headed towards the basement above the parking garage. It stopped around 3 floors down and the sign flashed “gym.” The doors opened and Bucky entered, sweaty from trying to workout and get rid of all these new feelings he’s having. He didn’t look up from his phone until the doors closed behind him. 

His eyes landed on hers, “O-oh hey! Hi.”

(Y/n) gave him a wave and looked down at her letter, rolling it up in her hands.

“You going to the party?”

“Yep.”

“That’s good! Really good! Because you really don’t need a date for stuff like this, we’re all friends, right?” Bucky was desperately trying to make up for what he had said earlier. 

“I have a date actually.”

His eyes widened, “What? Who?”

She turned and shrugged, “Just some guy I met, don’t think you would know him.”

A light went off in his head- she’s trying to make me jealous, isn’t she! She doesn’t have a date! She just wants me to make my move!

Bucky laughed and gave her a smirk, “You don’t have to lie to impress me, doll.”

She whipped around, “Excuse me? You don’t think I can get a date?”

His cheeks turned bright red, “W-what? No, you’re just trying to make me jealous.. right?”

Her jaw dropped, “You are so full of it.” 

The elevator dinged and (Y/n) exited into the basement, leaving Bucky’s head full of questions.

Did I just fuck up again, he thought. 

The next few days past fairly quickly. (Y/n) spent her time in the medical bay once again, dealing with minor injuries and organizing the first aid kits. The few highlights she did have was a quick lunch with Loki, which seemed very abnormal for him. He showed up in her office with, as he called it, “Midgardian Trash,” which was just a plate of different snack foods that Clint had recommended. They ate in a comfortable silence, sharing a few thoughts here and there, until he took his que to leave. (Y/n) walked him to the door and was surprised when he pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her face heat up.

“See you tomorrow, dear (Y/n).”

She stumbled out a response, making him laugh at her speechlessness. After work she rushed to prepare herself for Saturday night.

--

It was probably the biggest party upstate New York had ever seen. Completely catered, a professional band, everyone dressed up in their finest clothing. (Y/n) would’ve felt completely out of place if it wasn’t for Loki’s arm wrapped around her waist as they entered. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark green tie, constantly repping his main color. Time flew as they spun on the dance floor and drank a little too much, although alcohol didn’t seem to have much effect on him. Loki excused himself to the restroom as (Y/n) downed a glass of water to sober up. She felt someone sit next to her at the bar.

“Look, I’m not interested-”

“Are you crazy? Like- do you genuinely have a death wish?”

She looked beside her and was face to face with Bucky. It felt weird to see him so dressed up. She was used to the sweats and t-shirts, but she had to admit that he cleaned up nice. 

“What are you talking about?”

He glared at her, “Loki? Your date is LOKI. Steve filled me in, I know everything. He’s killed people, (Y/n)! A lot of them!”

“So have you.”

“I-” His voice faltered. “That’s different, you know it is. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Well don’t be. He’s actually a pretty good guy. And here he comes now.”

Loki appeared, tapping Bucky on the shoulder, “can I help you?”

“We were just talking.”

He laughed, “seems you would rather do much more than that.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrowed, ‘What does that mean?”

Bucky’s face turned red, “nothing! I guess I’ll leave you two alone now.” 

“Nonsense,” Loki pushed him back into the chair. “Tell the woman what you think of her. Perhaps it could work out for you, or for us both.”

“What!?”

(Y/n) was confused again, “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

Loki looked her up and down, “don’t be a fool. He fancies you, as do I. I propose an agreement-”

“wait what,” she looked at Bucky, “you like me? Like- more than a friend?”

He looked down at the table, confused and frustrated about his feelings and about how this alien douchebag was making fun of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke up.

“Listen asshole-”

Loki rolled his eyes, “do you wish to mount the lady or no?”

(Y/n) choked on her water, “what the fuck-”

Bucky’s eyes felt like they would fall out of his head, but he responded instinctively, “yes, god yes.”

Butterflies went off in (Y/n)’s stomach, eyes locked onto Bucky’s face.

“Great. So do I. So we shall share her then? Tonight? What do you think?” 

Loki turned to (Y/n), who was in shock.

“I-what?”

“Tonight, the two of us, yes? In your chambers, perhaps.”

“I-uh, okay.”

Bucky licked his lips, “Okay?”

“Yes, I mean-fuck, why not. You are both.. wow.”

Loki laughed, “Great, but truly shocking how blind you mortals are to each other.” 

The three of them sat in a weird tension at the bar while waiting for Tony to give his toast. After about 10 minutes of emotional rambling, Tony finally raised his glass to the Avengers. (Y/n) downed her drink and looked to the two men sitting beside her. Locking eyes, they shared a common thought and all excused themselves one by one. They found their way into (Y/n)’s bedroom, where she made herself at home by throwing off the heels she had been wearing all night. 

“So-uh-”

Bucky cut off her rambling with a hot, open mouthed kiss pressed to her lips. His hands trailed down her sides and grabbed her ass. He pulled away, breathing hard. “You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

He suddenly felt far more confident and began to strip off his suit, starting with the tie that had been choking him all night. Loki threw off his coat and pushed (Y/n) onto her bed. 

“I want you to kneel.” 

She stood up on her knees, face flushed, waiting for his next move. He slowly undid his pants and pulled out his cock. 

Well, yeah, he’s definitely packing

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to the tip before licking her way from the bottom back to the top. She took a deep breath and took him in her mouth as far as she could. Loki began to thrust, gripping her hair and pushing her forward, using her mouth as a fucktoy. (Y/n) opened her eyes to look up at him and noticed Bucky on the side, hand in his pants, eyes zeroed in on her mouth. She motioned for Bucky to strip, making him drop his pants and boxers, leaving him now completely exposed. His hand continued to pump his length, whimpers leaving his mouth. Loki noticed (Y/n)’s eye’s on Bucky and pulled away from her, leaving spit and precum dripping down her mouth.

“Take her.”

Bucky’s face flushed, embarrassed to be doing exactly what some other dude told him to. He walked towards the bed, cock standing proudly. 

“Is this okay?”

(Y/n) nodded yes, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him onto the bed with her. With Bucky underneath her, she lined up with his dick and sunk down onto it.

“Fuck! Jesus-fuck-”

(Y/n) couldn’t think for a moment, too distracted by how much he was stretching her. Bucky’s head was thrown up and his grip on her thighs tightened. He lifted his tips and bucked into her, making her gasp again.

Regaining her composure, (Y/n) began to roll her hips. As she rode him, Bucky sat up and his lips found their way to her neck, leaving marks up and down it. From the side of the bed, she could see Loki completely exposed now, hand running up and down his length as he watched them. He smirked as he caught her eye, making it more of a show. 

His hand moved faster before focusing on his tip. (Y/n)’s thoughts were broken from him as Bucky began to paw at her clit, rubbing it just the right way. Her hands went to his hair, pulling him close.

“God, so fucking-shit-so tight-”

Bucky’s voiced was strained, trying not to finish before her, but (Y/n) was making it difficult with how tight she was clamped around him. 

“Fuck-i’m so close, please!”

Bucky started thrusting up into her, “say my name-fuck”

“Bucky! Please!”

He rammed into her with a quick pace, hands groping her ass. (Y/n) a warmth growing in her, squeezing his dick even more. Finally, she reached her peak and exploded around him, dripping her juices down his dick. Bucky quickly flipped them over, putting one of her legs over his shoulder and started to pound into her. (Y/n) choked on her breath, completely overwhelmed from the overstimulation. Bucky’s thrusts began to stutter until he bucked one last time, going deep into her and exploding. He filled her up and slowly pulled out, seeing his cum dripping out of her.

“Holy shit.”

(Y/n) laughed, trying to catch her breath, “thanks, you too.”

“Quite the show, indeed.”

(Y/n) had almost forgot there was a whole other dude waiting to fuck her. Looking over, Loki’s cock was still standing tall, the tip burning red. 

He stood up and made his way to the bed, “On your hands and knees.”

His command made butterflies form in her stomach. (Y/n) turned over and got on her hands and knees. Loki entered her without warning, making her scream out in surprise. His hand came to her head, pushing her into the mattress. His pace picked up as he slammed into her.

“Jesus-fucking-god!”

Loki laughed through his heavy breathing, literally fucking her into the mattress.

“Let’s get something in that mouth, yes? Barnes-”

Bucky’s eyes moved from watching where Loki was connecting with (Y/n) to her mouth. “Sure-yeah, fuck yes.”

Bucky was thankful for his super soldier qualities because he was already up for round two. He got on the bed, dick facing (Y/n)’s mouth. She got back on her hands and kissed his tip before he pushed in. Bucky let (Y/n) control the pace although most times she was pushed on his dick by Loki’s hard thrusts. (Y/n) lost track of time as she getting literally fucking railed. Loki’s thrusts began to speed up and sweat was dripping down his godly body. 

(Y/n) felt the coil in her stomach tighten again, warmth spreading through out her, she was close, moaning around Bucky’s length. He pulled out of her mouth and began to jerk off, enjoying the show Loki and her were putting on. 

(Y/n) screamed as she reached her climax for the second time that night, eyes rolling to the back of her head, but Loki didn’t slow. He continued until one finally thrust, he pulled out and spilled onto her back, throwing his head back.

The noises (Y/n) was making made Bucky cum into his own hand before collapsing on the bed. 

(Y/n) dropped onto the bed, legs shaking. “Jesus- fuck.”

Bucky put a hand to her cheek, “you okay? We didn’t hurt you, did we?”

She shook her head, “No, just-fuck- I’m gonna be so fucking sore.”

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Insānĭa || Alfie Solomons x reader || Part One

↬ Part Two ↫      

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested/summary: “Hi luv can you write a Jealous Alfie that's leads to in ur words good old fashioned rough sex pretty please 😉”

Warnings: swearing, dirty talking, smut, rough sex, oral sex, jealous Alfie getting me on my knees

Author’s notes:

Sooo, I’ve definitely decided to use this kind of titles for fics about strong feelings such as jealousy because Latin is a magnificent, very expressive language that allows you to grasp every single shade of a word and fully understand its meaning

I had to split this in two since it was awfully long, part two will be out in the next hours!

Alfie -and Tom Hardy in general- is one of my most remote wet dreams, I truly hope I did a good job with this one ♡

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected  ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also, please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

Insānĭa  [insaniă], insaniae feminine noun I declension  1. madness, insanity 2. fury, frenzy 3. excess, extravagance 4. profligacy, luxury

The dark green brocade of your dress flawlessly embraced your body, creating a ravishing contrast between the bright colour of  that precious fabric and your y/s/c velvet skin, as you gave a final glimpse at the mirror, appreciating what you saw for once. That surprising realization made a small smile appear on your ruby lips and you brushed behind your pearled ear a stand of your hair escaped from your fine coiffure, before finally leaving Alfie’s office, headed to the great hall of the distillery where an important business dinner was about to take place. Actually, your fiancé hardly ever involved you in his working life, indeed he always tried to keep you safe, far away from the atrocities of that cruel world, almost like you were his rare rose under a bell jar, he would’ve never let anything happen to you, at the cost of his own life. But that was a special occasion and it demanded an exception: Alfie had finally succeeded in reaching an agreement with a new Italo-American partner, in order to expand his traffic in rum all the way to the Americas; consequently, that opulent feast was arranged not only to celebrate, but also to define the ultimate details of their recent deal, and your presence was required too. Entering the huge room already half full of people, you immediately waved your hand at Ollie who was friendly smiling in your direction, before your eyes went looking for your boyfriend, finding him seconds later, while he was busy talking with who you assumed to be Mr. Antonio Fontana. As you approached them, you had to admit to yourself that Alfie’s latest business associate was, without a doubt, one of the most charming men you’d ever seen; his tall, muscular figure stroke a thrilling fear into you, as his dark greedy eyes examined your body with surgical precision and, when you eventually found yourself right in front of him with flushed cheeks, a slight smirk formed on his fleshy lips surrounded by a hint of beard, just as black as his curly hair.

You remained caught up in your inappropriate thoughts, unable to pronounce a single word, until a strong arm unexpectedly harpooned your waist, catapulting you back into real life, and you recognized Alfie’s intense cologne as it forcefully filled your nostrils. Only then you raised your eyes at him, noticing an irritated look contaminating his sublime masculine features, still you didn’t manage to say anything because, just as you attempted to open your mouth, Antonio’s deep voice overtook you, capturing your attention again.

“May I ask who this stunning creature is?” Although that question was in effect addressed to Alfie, your guest’s impudent gaze entangled yours once more, as he held your right hand, leaving a brief kiss on the ardent skin of its dorsum; his strategical sweet-talk, along with his sudden gallant gesture, inevitably intensified the blush on your face, preventing you to look the other way, so you simply kept your irises locked with his.

“I’m y/n ...” Before your full name could leave your red lips, Alfie nonchalantly took your tiny hand from his, sending him an indecipherable, unsettling glare in stark contrast with his apparently mild voice, while his fingers automatically stroked his long beard .

“Antonio, this is Y/n y/l/n, my lovely wife-to-be” That last appellative in particular was marked with far too much emphasis as his strong hand, still laid on your side, gently pulled your back closer to his vigorous torso covered by a creamy-white shirt and black jacket; already bothered by all of that impudence, he was obviously making it clear that you were not available, still the half Italian just didn’t seem to care and continued to shamelessly court you, right under Alfie’s harsh stare.

“This means it’s not too late for you to make a better choice, angel” Antonio’s grin widened while he spoke those insolent words, making his black eyes blatantly travel from your mouth to your deep neckline, his tongue slithered on his bottom lip in a salacious movement as he lingered on the soft skin of your chest. You felt your fiancé’s fists brutally clench, moreover his muscular arms visibly tautened together with his large shoulders, and you knew he wouldn’t have contained his anger for much longer, still, before your spellbound brain could start working again, your rambling mouth raced beyond the point of no return.

“Guess it’s never too late”

You said lightly and, as soon as you realized how idiotic your answer was, your eyelids snapped wide open with absolute panic for the likely destructive consequences of your foolishness; however, to your great surprise, nothing of what you expected actually happened. Alfie was still holding you tight, his heavy breaths slightly betrayed his attempt to remain calm: he was well aware that the deal with the Americans was way too important for him to ruin everything at a few inches from the finish line, so he just had recourse to all his self-control and somehow managed not to blow his shareholder’s head off his neck right on the spot. He simply cleared his throat before speaking again. “You know, my friend, we are businessmen, aren't we?”  Your boyfriend’s husky voice revealed a hint of edginess, even though he was using his usual unintelligible tone  “And as a businessman, there’s only one fucking thing I demand when it comes to my affairs, and that’s respect, ‘cause respect, mate, is fucking sacred, innit?” His tattooed hand drew a few little circles in the air as his brows and mouth raised simultaneously, giving birth to a brief pretentious expression.  “I mean, no matter how hard I want to, I can’t just break into your house and fuck your mother under your bloody eyes, eh? That wouldn’t be right, mate” Antonio looked at him with a cheeky smile never leaving his face, and again he chose to totally ignore those veiled warnings, his attention utterly moved to your silhouette once more and his fingers dared to move a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Amico mio*, I think when you desire something so bad, you have to take it, even if it meant breaking the rules”

With fiery blood both in his greenish eyes and on the palms of his hands, due to the nails now wedged in his own flesh, Alfie abruptly breathed out, ready to assault his new sworn enemy and probably kill him right there and then, without a second thought; luckily, you were able to read him like a book, so, with great timing, you successfully avoided a bloodbath by yanking his arm, in order to dissuade him from the violent intentions crowding his turbulent mind. “Mr. Fontana, if you’ll excuse us for a few minutes, I just remembered I need help with a couple of things before our dinner is served” You put on an apologetic smile, starting to back off towards Alfie’s private room while dragging him with you “Please, take a seat, we’ll be back in a moment”

As soon as the two of you entered the main office, you quickly closed the door along with the curtains, conscious of how hard it was to cope with your man’s wrath, especially when it came to other blokes brazenly flirting with you. “What the hell was that, eh?” Alfie furiously removed his jacket, carelessly throwing it on the floor, his hoarse voice echoed between the walls almost astonishing you, as he approached your minute figure with a literally livid look. “How dare you eye-shag that fucking wop, in my own fucking home! He was practically about to put his dick in you right in front of me; and you would’ve fucking let him!”  His savage screaming paused for a short instant when he spasmodically messed up his hair, madly pulling its tips in a desperate effort to hold back his rage.

On the other hand, you simply couldn’t take your eyes off him: whenever he got angry, the way veins swelled in his solid neck and half-exposed forearms drove you crazy, you were in a haze as you kept staring at his manly features pursed in such a cursed yet handsome expression, and if that wasn’t hot enough, his muscular body tensed several times, showing all of its virile glory, while he continued to shout at you. “I don’t even know why the hell I haven't killed that cunt yet! Maybe I should just go and rip his throat open” A familiar heat began to rise in your belly and you tactically sat on his desk, viciously martyrizing your bottom lip with your teeth, determined to tease him a little more, in order to eventually get what you were craving. “Oh, c’mon, love, no need to be this irascible! He is a gorgeous man, you can’t deny that” In truth, you couldn’t care less about that eyetie, still you kept using that coquettish tone, knowing how easy it was for you to find his weak spot, indeed Alfie immediately got close to your face, slightly squeezing his menacing eyes. “Are you fucking trying to make me mad on purpose, y/n? eh?” His palms loudly collided with the wooden surface on each side of your legs, his plump lips were now only a few inches apart from yours, his hot breath warming your flushed cheeks as you pierced his dilated pupils with a lustful gaze.

“Maybe.”

*Amico mio = My friend

@namelesslosers

[littlemisskookie]

Loveless: Chapter 6

Loveless: Index Ship: Reader | OT7 Description: Spy/Men in Black!AU | You worked at an institution that dealt with aliens- aliens that were the fictional creatures we were told were from fairy tales. The job entailed love only for it, and nothing else. That’d all change when a mission goes wrong. Warnings: Sub/Dom Themes, Choking, Blowjob, Pussy Slapping, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Sir!Kink, Degrading Names, Dumbification???, Intercourse, Comedy Word Count: 4,054 A/N: beta read by @jungtoeseok

"Hobi," you whined, your thighs pressed against each other as a reaction to the sudden flesh of arousal.

Ah yes, feeding time, Hoseok thought. AKA the least sexy way to describe coitus.

It had been a little less than a week, and already Hoseok was worn out. He never before believed in the concept of "too much sex", but with you, you were insatiable. Your group called it feeding, and your lust hunger. It made sense. True to theory, you were slowly regaining strength, your face becoming fuller as well as your body. You were no longer skin and one, instead returning to your normal self. You regained muscle and fat, truly fleshed out instead of a mere outline of what you once were.

Still, you needed constant feedings in order to maintain it. Hoseok did his best to keep up, knowing it was in the best interest of your health. However, every waking moment seemed to be spent with his dick inside of you. The most constant sex he had gotten in his last sexual relationship was perhaps twice a week. Now he had to do it three times a day if he was lucky. It really was like meals.

Not that you'd have any problem getting him up and ready. One moment it feels like the last thing he'd want, and suddenly something would consume him. Your scent, your body, suddenly he was up and at attention. He couldn't help it. You were like an addiction. Perhaps it came with reading his sexual desires. You could always sense what he wanted and how, switching positions without a word and whatnot. You no longer had to tell him what he needed to do, unleashing his innermost desires. Along with your ability to turn him on came the parts of him that were unable to be held back.

It had been only a few days and you two already knew each other's bodies like the back of your hands. So with the whine in your voice and the sudden scent of your arousal, Hoseok knew what was coming.

Both of you, duh.

"Fuck," he groaned, groggy from just waking up. What time was it? 5 AM? "What is it my little slut needs this time?" he questioned, as though he didn't already know from the semi he was beginning to form.

"I want you to fuck me."

Hoseok's hand was quick to latch around your throat, choking you enough where your airflow was cut off immediately. "Who are you to order me around, whore? Last time I checked you weren't the ones who made demands in this relationship."

"S-Sorry. You make the demands," you choke out. "I just follow."

He squeezes harder, enough where your face was beginning to bloom red. He always thought you looked pretty in red. Never would've guessed in this way, before, to be honest. "Oh? I think you're forgetting to address me. Are you so hungry for cock that you've forgotten your manners? Or are you just stupid?"

"Sir! I'm so stupid, sir. So stupid and hungry for your cock. Please fuck your dumb little girl."

"That's my girl," Hoseok purred, rolling over slightly to give you a chaste kiss to the lips as he let go of your throat, letting you breathe once more. "Get me hard and we'll see what we can do about that dick hungry pussy of yours, alright?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," you say obediently, wide awake as you descend down his body to do his bidding. You're quick to get him out of his underwear, seeing as it was the only thing he had on after you knocked him out from last night's boning.

You take his semi-erection into your mouth, careful as you twirl your tongue around the tip, using your hand to pump up and down his shaft. You let your tongue run lower, a trail of saliva along the underside of his length until you were massaging his balls with your tongue, sucking gently on them as you maintained eye contact. Hoseok always had a thing for looking you in the eye for dirty deeds like this. He didn't care who was performing oral on the other; if your eyes were locked it was a turn on guarantee.

Hoseok let out a pleased hum, a sigh of content as he let his hand pet your hair, urging on your ministrations. You moaned around him as you took him a bit deeper, sending vibrations throughout him at the sensation. He cursed, both of you feeling him get fully erect as you continued. 

"You're so good to me. My good girl," Hoseok praised, cupping you by the chin to bring you up for air. You captured his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it and bobbing your head in a familiar fashion to how you sucked his cock earlier, only to emit a groan from him. "Yeah yeah, I know. You want this cock inside that greedy cunt of yours, don't you?"

You hummed, nodding eagerly.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Sit on it if you want it that badly. Ride me good, baby, I'm about to fall asleep. Don't want me to get bored now, do you?" 

"Yes, sir." You were eager, ecstatic as you straddled the man, admiring the sight below you. He was rather stunning, you had to admit. Never in your dirtiest daydreams of him back at the agency could you have imagined the scene before you. Tousled, messed up hair from where you pulled the night before, sticking out from all sides. You distinctly remember it was when he was feasting between your legs, keeping your thighs firmly planted against the mattress as he devoured you whole.

Both of you let out a groan of pleasure as you began to sink down onto him, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate him as he filled you completely. You'd never tire of that feeling, no matter how many times he wrecks you. 

Still, despite the fact you were physically on top, Hoseok would never allow it metaphorically. Despite the fact he didn't want to do the work, simply lay back and enjoy to let you have your fun, he couldn't resist. Your warm heat was just all too inviting, beckoning to burrow impossibly deeper into you. 

Digging his heels into the mattress, he bucked his hips into the air, making you stumble as you find purchase on his chest, trying to regain balance. He didn't allow you to get comfortable for long, beginning his relentless pace as he dug his hands into your hips hard enough to bruise, slamming his hips into you. 

"Fuck, fuck, fu-" Your cursing was cut off, one of Hoseok's hands coming up to shove his fingers into your mouth. You looked so dumb at that moment, a dumbfounded look on your face. You wore a blank expression, your mouth filled as you looked at him.

"Nasty girl. Good girls don't curse, do they, Q?" Hoseok asked, shaking your head for you, side to side in an aggressive manner as though to knock some sense into you.

Your eyes rolled back, feeling him reach that special spot inside of you, stimulating the small bundle of nerves that made your toes curl. His hand dragged from your mouth to clasp around your throat, leaving a trail of drool and saliva along the way.

You were getting close, but you needed that extra push. You let out a needy whine, hips bucking against Hoseok as you attempted to grind your throbbing clit against his pelvis.

"Little slut needs to cum, huh?" Hoseok questioned, chuckling darkly.

You wordlessly nodded, mouth agape. You couldn't even speak, lips parted as you just drowned in pleasure, the overcome with how good it felt. 

"You don't get to cum without my permission," Hoseok growled, giving a quick swat to your needy heat.

"Yes, sir!" You gasped out. "Please let me cum?"

"Not until I say so." You bit your lip at that, trying to concentrate at keeping the orgasm at bay. You were right at the edge, and if Hoseok were to grant you mercy, what with even a small rub against your clit, you'd be undone. Instead, you were needlessly dangled over the edge according to your Sir's whims.

Still, from the twitch of him inside you and the small throb, you could tell he was close. His grip around your throat tightened, pace becoming sloppy.

"Oh fuck, god. I'm close," he groaned, a low hiss emitting from between his teeth. His other hand dragged from your hip to rub small circles into your clit. He watched as you became undone, able to feel the vibrations of your moan against the palm of his hand against your throat. You quivered and shook, thighs shaking on either side of him as your cunt spasmed around him. Soon enough he was following after, your orgasm milking him for all he was worth until he was filling you up with more than you could handle. Both of you could feel both his and your liquids spilling over his cock, dribbling over his balls and onto the bed. 

"Fuck, Q, you made a mess of me," he chuckled, letting go of your throat to pet your hair, calming you down from your high. You collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily.

"Yeah, well I could say the same thing. Just yesterday Jimin commented on the marks from the choking. You're just intent on marking me up, aren't you?" You laughed at that mindlessly sucking on a junction along his collarbone, your heart rate slowing to a more stable rate.

"Says the one that's leaving a hickey on me as we speak," Hoseok teased. "Why don't you shower already? You stink."

"It's your fault!"

"Yeah right. Go ahead. I'm gonna make breakfast. You want some?"

"No way, you burned my eggs last time."

"I was trying to be nice!"

"Nice, but face it, you're a terrible cook. Leave that to Jin."

"Alright alright, I'm heading out before you roast my natural talent any further," Hoseok grumbled. Grabbing some sweats and a t-shirt, he made his way to the kitchen, the only other person there being Namjoon.

"Hey, man," Hoseok greeted, opening a few of the drawers. "Have you seen the frying pan?"

"I think it's in the dishwasher," Namjoon answered, focused on the crossword puzzle before him. "Everyone else is asleep. Not surprised to see you're up already, though."

"I wasn't much of an early bloomer before, to be honest," Hoseok chuckled.

"Had fun with Y/N?"

"Yeah, always do but... It's embarrassing to say, but I feel like my dick's going to fall off."

Namjoon laughed at that. "That often, huh? You two have been going at it like rabbits. We've barely been seeing you two."

"I never thought there was such thing as too much sex," Hoseok said in a disbelieving tone. "Like, typically this would be any man's dream, but it's exhausting, you know?"

"It makes sense why her libido's so high, though," Namjoon admits. "I mean, think about the last time she even had her strength. Way back at the incident, when we met Jashwi. Now imagine you haven't eaten any in all that time. Of course you'd try to eat as much as you can to make up for what you had lost. And there's no doubt it's working."

"Will it always be this way?"

"Well, there are two scenarios. The first is that once she's had her fill, it'll go to a more normal, reasonable schedule. The second is that it'll always be that way. You do have to consider it like meals for her in a sense. We typically have three meals a day, so it's the same for her."

"I'm serious when I say I think my dick's going to fall off," Hoseok groaned. "Don't get me wrong, it's great. Kind of weird, actually, how good it is. Like, the first time we did it, before we even started she just stared at me for a minute and told me exactly what to do. It was like something unlocked."

"Like new skin in Fortnite or something?"

"Fuck off, man, everyone's back on Minecraft's dick."

"Right, right, my bad. And perhaps her sexual intuition and perception are simply what comes along with it."

"Advice?"

Namjoon pondered for a moment. "There's really only one solution. You'll have to get another guy to feed her."

"What makes you think any of the other guys could handle her libido any better than I can?"

"That's not what I'm suggesting. I mean the two of you share her. If she's too much for one man, maybe she's enough for two. That is if you're both comfortable with the concept."

"Huh, didn't think of it like that," Hoseok admitted. "Do you think everyone would be ok with that?"

"A polyamorous, sexual relationship?" Namjoon questioned, quirking a brow. "I think so. Every man here has expressed at the very least sexual desire for Agent Q, and so far everyone's done well enough to be ok with the concept of you screwing her. If they can get some as well I'm sure there'd be no complaints. More efficient, anyway. Besides there's no actual risk, seeing as everyone's clean and there's no risk of pregnancy."

"What about Y/N?"

"You'd have to be the one to talk about it to her," Namjoon shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she's got her own fantasy about being passed around seven guys."

"I think we'll just start with two for now."

"Good idea."

-

You nuzzle into Hoseok's side, your hand slowly creeping up his inner thigh. He let out a groan, suppressing it as he catches your hand. 

You look up at him, confused. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no, it's just..." Hoseok tries to figure out how he wants to phrase it but ultimately decides to be honest. "I don't think I can keep up at this rate, having sex as often as we do, I mean."

"Oh, I understand. I'm sorry, I should've put your feelings into consideration more. After all, your libido is normal," you say, retracting your hand. "I'll be able to hold off for a few days and give you time to rest."

"No, I don't want you to do that. You need to get your strength back completely and keep it there. You can't do that if you starve yourself."

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Well, do you think you'd be open to introducing someone else into this as well? It might be easier if you feed on two guys."

"That's a good idea... are you ok with that, though? And would the other guy be? I know it's not like most polyamorous relationships, but sharing isn't exactly common."

"Look, I'd be completely fine with it. Your health is most important to me, and I'm a grown man, I can contain any jealousy as long as there's communication. Besides, you admitted it wasn't like most polyamorous relationships- this is strictly sexual and for your benefit. I don't doubt that whoever you pick will have the same mindset. You have six to choose from anyway."

"I don't want to choose, though. You know all of you are equal to me," you pout. Your eyes light up suddenly. "I know! We'll do the same thing we did last time, with the cards! But this time I want to watch."

"What? Are you sure? Won't that be kinda weird, since what they're essentially gambling for is you?"

"I know none of you think of me as some prize to be won. Besides, I think it'd be interesting. It's better than me anxiously waiting by myself for the results. Who came in second place last time, anyway?"

Hoseok thought for a moment. "I think that was Namjoon."

"Oooh, I wouldn't mind Namjoon. I wonder if he'd spit about the trade bonds between elves and vampires during the act."

"Dear God, I don't want to think about that," he groaned.

"And the fairies are in- in charge of," you panted, "in charge of STEEL!" You bucked your hips in the air, rolling your eyes back in lieu of an orgasm.

"You better hope that I don't tell him about this."

"Why not? I'll do it in front of him! Anyways, let's start the card game, I'm starving already."

-

You assumed the guys would play a game like Poker or something that could be played in a casino. You could see it already- the fancy Versace suits and the red and black, surrounding a table as they throw chips mindlessly on the table as though it were nothing.

Instead, it was six dorks in sweatpants surrounding a coffee table and playing Go Fish.

It was Jungkook's choice, seeing as he was the one with the cards. Oddly enough someone had to explain the rules to Jin. Fucking numbnuts.

"So, Agent P, got any sevens?" Jungkook questions, keeping his cards close to his face, glaring at Jimin from above.

Jimin only revealed a smug smirk. "Go fish, bitch."

"Fuck you!" Jungkook said. "You and your Agent Perry looking ass."

"Hey, look, that's why I chose it! It was between that, S, and E!"

"Perrry, perrry the platypussss," you sing under your breath from your spot beside Hoseok.

"I did always find it a bit funny that you chose that letter of all of them," Namjoon admitted as he stared disappointed at the two pairs he had. 

"I loved that show as a kid, I thought it was cool," Jimin admitted. "The platypus was my favorite character."

"Well, I think I can add another nickname to the list, Perry," you chuckle, poking your elbow into Hoseok's ribcage to elicit a laugh.

"You can call him Agent P," Hoseok jokes back.

"When you think about it there's a lot of things that can go with P," Jin comments. "Penis, pussy, Perry-"

"Pee and poo," Taehyung adds.

"Thanks, Agent V, for your contribution."

You bury your face in your hands. "I can't believe I'm going to sleep with one of you."

"Who knows? With your libido you might have to hump your way through the list," Yoongi adds, turning to Jimin. "You don't have any sevens, but got any twos?"

"It's not your turn, yet! Besides, don't phrase it like that," Jimin scowls.

"You're just saying that because you've got twos. Cough them up."

"I think it'd be best to stick to two for now and then work our way up. I don't want to be overwhelmed with dicks. This isn't Omegle," you comment. 

"God, that scarred me when I was younger," Jungkook says. "Jimin, it's your turn, are you going to make a move or what?"

"Well, Yoongi, got any twos?" Jimin questions.

"Fuck you man, I knew you had them," Yoongi says before tossing one over.

"Jungkook, you're still such a baby! A youngin who's growing so much!" you coo, reaching over to comb your fingers through his hair.

"I'm 21! I can drink in like every country! Besides, I don't think you want to go on about how young I am, considering I might have my dick down your throat at some point."

"As if, you're a total baby boy," you joke.

"We'll see about that," he growls beneath his breath.

"Hold it there, Agent Z. You're nowhere close to winning," Namjoon reminds him. It was right. He was in fourth place, with both Namjoon and Jin behind him. "I would've thought you'd be good at this game since you suggested it."

"It has nothing to do with skill! Next time we're playing BS," he grumbles.

Yoongi turns to Jin, "Got any Queens?"

"I got one on the couch," Jin says, tossing his head over to you.

"This is why you're in last place," you reply.

"Darn. B, got any Kings?"

"Dammit," Namjoon mutters, tossing over the king card, his last one.

"See! Now I'm tied with Namjoon," Jin gloats.  "Taehyung, any threes?"

"Go fish. Any Jacks?"

"That was my last one too!"

"Looks like you're out of the running then," Taehyung grins. "Perry, any fives? And sixes and while you're at it."

"Fuck you," Jimin hisses, giving the rest of his cards. "I was at the top too."

"You're not a top period," Taehyung fired back, chuckling. He looks over to Yoongi. "Aces?"

Yoongi hands over his second to last card, quirking a brow. "You're intent on winning this, aren't you?"

Taehyung's cheeks flush red, and you feel a bit of sympathy. "Well," you add, "you don't seem as though you're intent on losing."

"Didn't you know I was naturally competitive?" he quips back.

"Eights?" Taehyung asks Jungkook. 

Jungkook hands them over, a frustrated look on his face. "Are you cheating or something?" he asks, skeptical.

"No. Unlike you barbarians, I know how to pay attention," Taehyung says smugly. "And I'm guessing you've got a three to go along with that accusation?"

Jungkook coughs it up, groaning as he's out of the game. "Fuck, man! You've got to be shitting me.

"Yeah, and for all you know, some of us have ADHD or ADD," Hoseok adds.

"Alright, and for my final trick, I'm going to guess what everyone else has! All that's left are Namjoon and Yoongi's cards." Taehyung rubs at his temples, scrunching up his face as he makes a big show of it. "Good sir, I believe you have a two," he says, pointing at Yoongi, before reverting it to Namjoon. "And you have nine!"

Both toss their cards onto the coffee table, revealing to the room that Taehyung's magical predictions were indeed correct. Everyone was aghast, and for a moment you did feel as though you were in a casino, seeing men weep tears of both happiness and joy. 

Jungkook grabbed Taehyung into a light chokehold, running his knuckles along the older man's head as he roughhoused with him. "You bastard, you absolute bastard! You've got to be cheating!"

"I'm sorry I'm the only person who was focused on the game and not on Y/N's rack," he squeaked out.

"Damn, I thought they were distracting enough for at least seven men," you sighed.

"Don't worry,  babe, they're plenty distracting to me," Hoseok says, placing his arm around your shoulders.

"You've seen them!"

"So has Jimin, what's your point?"

"They're delightful, by the way," Jimin adds in.

"Well you've currently got a view straight down into the valley of betrayal."

"No one can help that you're a shortie amongst us, Q," Hoseok laughs.

"Fuck you!"

"You already have!" Hoseok quips.  "Multiple times, in fact." He looks over to Taehyung, who was gasping for breath once Jungkook had finally let him go. "Congrats on becoming an official member of Y/N's reverse harem, V."

"I thought we already were that as potential 'lovers'," the man gasped out.

"Yeah, but as I said, official," Hoseok grinned, reaching over to shake the boy's shoulders playfully, as though to knock sense or emphasis into him. 

"That's right Tae, you've won the grand prize from our show! An endless amount of pussy!" You launch yourself at him, embracing him in a bear hug. "And what a show you put on!"

"I'm not sure if you two are making this less or more weird," Taehyung grumbles, his breath once again taken from him due to the tightness of your grip.

"Weirder. Definitely weirder," Yoongi offers.

"You know those lifetime amounts that they offer though on TV shows aren't really infinite, though," Jin adds. "There's like this whole subreddit dedicated on it."

"That's why I said endless, not lifetime," you huff. "Besides, how's it rigged? Do they only send like a year's supply or do they kill the winner off?"

"Dear God, can we ever stay on track for a conversation?" Namjoon grumbled. "Maybe some of us do have ADD or ADHD."

"Wouldn't that show up in our records?" Jungkook questioned.

"Nah, you know how companies and society is. Mental illnesses aren't taken as seriously as physical ones. But there is some improvement on that as of late," Namjoon notes. 

"Does this mean we'll have to play cards any time we want to get laid?" Jimin questioned.

"Don't worry, Jimin, I'm more than happy to dick you down again," Yoongi offers.

[mydeardeath]

A dragon’s hoard (part 1)

on AO3

summary :  Dragons had always been part of tales in Gotham. They were fascinating creature after all. But they weren't supposed to be real. Nobody, except the old Lady Drake, believed in them. That is, until Crown Prince is taken by one of them during his birthday party.

The Drake was one of the most powerful families of the Kingdom of Gotham. They owned the largest land, one that had once been mostly inhabited by savage that refused to follow the rules of the King, that nobody had dared to venture to until the Drake had conquered it. The life on this land was harder than in other counties with the rude winters in the mountain and the arid plains where almost nothing grew, but people had started to come, reassured by the Drake presence. Part of their fame and success was due to their competence as Dragon Hunters. Dragons had been one of the reasons why leaving in this land was dangerous and the Drake had eliminated this threat. They had explored the fallen Dragons lair and taken their hoard for them, becoming richer than anyone in the kingdom. The King himself often consulted the Drake on the kingdom matters, to ensured their support.

Emboldened by his parents' triumph, Charles Drake had wanted to slay a Dragon himself but there wasn't any left in this land. So when he reached adulthood, he left Gotham to find one. He returned with a Dragon scale to prove to everyone his victory over the beast and for a fortnight after his return all was well. They celebrated his success with a grand feast and dances for a few day and his wife gave birth to a healthy boy : Jack Drake.

But their happiness didn't last long. In his quest for reconnaissance, Charles had gone after an innocent Dragon, one that hadn't hurt anyone and that didn't deserve to die just to satiate a man's ego. So, one day the Drake family was visited by a spirit that cursed Charles, his wife, and son. They themselves became dragons and were to stay in this form until they learned to respect the ones they had hunted.

So Charles fleed with his family, afraid they would be killed. His parents stayed behind, still humans. They helped Charles built a house high in the mountains, away from humans villages. Their tragic fate spread in all the kingdom, yet the rumor was never confirmed. The only thing people knew for sure is that nobody ever saw Charles Drake from this day on.

***

This was ridiculous. Damian didn't understand why they had to go through this, they were royalty after all, they didn't owe anything to anyone. Yet, here he was dressed in white silk of the highest quality, covered in jewels and paraded in the street. Today marked his coming of age and the entire kingdom seemed to have come to the capital to celebrate it. Well, at least all the nobles and the wealthy, all with the same hope : marry their daughter to the prince. His father had refused any engagement, telling everyone that Damian would get to choose once he was eighteen. And obviously, they all had remembered. To be fair, they had started to fight for his hand far before his eighteenth birthday but before they had least tried to be subtle. Nothing seemed to deter this vultures. He had tried the gay card which wasn't at all effective. His preference didn't seem to matter as he would need an heir if he was to be king. They just proposed him to take a paramour, all their daughter ready to "accept it". As if he needed their authorization ! But even his father had agreed that he would need a child, need an heir. Some had suggested he renounced to the throne, probably hoping that Dick, the king oldest ward, would take it instead. They took Dick gentleness as naivety and thought they would be able to manipulate him more easily. Nobles were ridiculous.

After the march through the capital, he was to endure a ball, one he could not evade as it was in his honor and his absence would quickly be noticed. So he stayed in the ballroom, dancing with all the unmarried girls and groped by the older ones. And despite the growing need, he didn't touch more than one drink so the kingdom wouldn't worry about his "apparent alcoholism" like they had done with Jason after he had been sighted in a pub the day following his own coming of age. Most of the girls he waltzed with were insipid and boring. Thankfully, due to his reputation; he didn't have to bother with a faux smile. He didn't try to pretend to be interested in anything they were saying which did nothing to deter them. They did not care about it, only his status mattered. He was saved from his suitor by the member of his father council. Not that they were any better. They kept praising him, his strength and his intelligence while just a few months ago they had criticized all his idea until they had been reminded of his age. They all wanted his favor to gain power in the council. Some even went to propose him to teach him everything about "lovemaking" with a man so he could have a blooming sexual life when he chose a paramour. As if he would want so old decrepit man that probably didn't know how to please anyone but himself.

The only one he didn't mind talking to was Lady Drake. She was a really old lady, but not one to pinch his cheek telling him he looked precious or "a beauty worthy of being taken by a dragon" (one of the most frequent and stupid "compliment" used by dodderer toward young ladies and exceptionally young lords.). And nobody dared come bother him when she was with him, she was far too powerful for that. Her lack of heir had enhanced said power, as all hoped for a part of her wealth when she would inevitably die.  And despite her advanced age, she was still quick-witted and they could discuss for hours without Damian getting bored. Sometimes she would wander to fantasy, talking about dragons as though they were real creatures and not just tale to scare young children. But Damian, while he thought the idea of dragon ludicrous, didn't mind her oddness. She was good at telling stories and it was often a welcome distraction.

Lady Drake eventually retired from the party, not able to stay awake at wee hours as she used to in his youth. Damian didn't have to wait long after she had left his size to be assaulted anew by nobles. He was envious of the lady, he would have liked as well to escape from the room and its dull people. But he was discouraged from doing so by his father gaze. He had promised to stay at least until two in the morning and had still more than one hour to go at.

Ignoring several offers to dance, he started searching for his "big brothers". They liked to call themselves that, always talking about their duty as older brothers. It was mainly an excuse to baby him, they had barely changed the way they treated him in the last six years even if he had grown from kid to adult. Dick took seriously his role as big brother but Jason mostly did it to rouse him. Damian had hoped to take advantage of it tonight, using his brothers to shield him from the dangerous predators that were the young ladies in attendance.

However, to Damian despair, it seemed that Dick didn't have more luck than him, surrounded by his own crowd of invasive aristocrats. Two women were splattered to him, each one to a hip, their hands on his chest like a sign of ownership. The competition was tough as they were a dozen of women in Dick's company, all of them trying to catch his attention by miscellaneous means. Some of them had corset so tightly bound that their breasts seemed about to burst out of it. Yet, as much as they could bend toward Dick to give him a better view, his brother eyes never wandered below their faces.

So Dick wasn't an option at the moment. He scanned the crowd for Jason, careful to never stop. Being still for just a few seconds could be perceived as an invitation. He searched the entire room, not forgetting a single corner, before it became clear that Jason had managed to sneak out unnoticed. Lucky him. It also meant that he would get no help from his brothers. His father wasn't either an option and Cassandra wasn't even here. She was rarely in the capital nowadays. She had always been discreet and, apparently, it allowed her to go explore the world without the court noticing her absence. Maybe he should have done the same. But considering he was the king only biological son it seemed unlikely that nobles could have under any circumstances forgotten about his existence.

Damian didn't have much choice but to resign himself to endure innocuous highborns for one more hour. An opportunity presented itself to him when a tray full of glasses shattered to the ground. The commotion was loud enough to attract everyone attention and he took this occasion to slide through a balcony door and close it behind himself. He couldn't leave as he had to make a final appearance that would signal the end of the party. If his father found out he had been hiding on a balcony, he could just pretend he had been here for only five minutes to take some fresh air. Nonetheless, he was careful to blend in the shadow so no one would see him from the inside and join him. The isolation offered by his hideout could make some people bold. Well, bolder than some already were.

The cold air of the night hit him, his clothes were doing nothing to warm him. In fact, they were supposed to keep him from getting warm so he wouldn't overheat in the ballroom. But Damian didn't care in the slightest, the bite of the cold was more pleasant than the party going inside.  Plus he had his glass of whiskey, still half full, to warm him. He started to sip his drink slowly when he heard a strange noise behind him, as if something had scratched against the brick of the roof. Damian didn't see anything when he looked up, yet he had the sensation of being observed. He was probably getting paranoid after the event of the evening, so he dismissed the feeling and went back to his drink.

Just a few minutes later he heard a deep huff of breath that couldn't have come from a human. He tensed automatically, his feet moving to face the unknown threat. He didn't manage to get a look at the beast as its claws had already ensnared his waist and before he knew it, his feet weren't touching the floor beneath him. He struggled in the creature grip, his legs battling uselessly in the air, and his glass slipped from his fingers when he tried to free himself from the beast clutch with his hands.

He should probably call for help, but he didn't want anyone to see him in such a state, unable to defend himself. Dick would without a doubt tease him mercilessly if he was the one to save him. If only he had brought his sword. His father had forbidden him from taking it, fearing that he would snap at one point while having to go through an entire day surrounded by stupid people.

Damian was still trying to loosen the creature grip on his waist when a cry pierced the silence. A middle-aged woman had opened the balcony door and was frozen in its entrance. Then two things happened at the same time : all the party seemed to gather at the windows, some shouting the word"Dragon", and he was violently projected in the air as the beast (dragon ?) jump in the sky. He heard his father calling after him in a horrified voice. His father was strong and a knowledgeable man but he had never encountered any dragon. Bruce was known, by his family and friends at least, to have contingency plans for everything. Almost everything. Dragons had never been something they took seriously. So, for the moment, Damian was on his own.

The strength of the sudden move cut the prince breath for a few instant, leaving him with a searing pain in his chest. The speed at which they were going didn't help either. Damian felt as if he was going to throw up, his inside being shaken in all direction. This wasn't the only thing he had to worry about. If he had been cold on the balcony, it was nothing compared to now. He was completely frozen, covered by thin clothes and flying at high speed in the glacial wind of the night. At this rhythm he wouldn't have to worry about the dragon intention, he was going to die from hypothermia before that. His fingers were already starting to go numb and soon he would be too weak to move. He was on the verge of passing out when he began to feel warmth where the dragon skin was touching his own. Between the scales of the beast, he could see its skin glowing slightly as if a fire had been lit inside him. And why not ? If Dragons were real, so their rumored ability to spit fire could be too.

Despite the dragon apparent effort to keep him alive, he had been too dizzy to stay awake and had drifted slowly to sleep. He didn't know how much had passed when he woke up. As he had no mean to know for how long they had flown and in which directions, he had no idea where he was. It would make his return home harder. But it wouldn't be enough to deter him. He was a prince, he wouldn't end alone in a strange land, eaten by a fucking dragon !

He wasn't really sure that the Dragon planned to eat him. He had been laid on soft furs, near the hearth where a fire was still slightly burning. The whole room was pretty cozy, entirely covered in enough furs and pillow that the floor had disappeared. It was like a giant bed, and maybe it was. Maybe this was where the dragon usually slept.

For the moment Damian was alone, an opportunity he couldn't waste. He got up on his shaking legs and went for the door. Although he had difficulty opening it, it wasn't locked just old and rusty. The door led to a wide hall illuminated by the cold light of the winter sun entering through the large windows. He just took a glance for Damian to realize that he was on a mountain, at a high point. The forest outside the castle - he could be nothing else than a castle judging by the size of the rooms and the quality of the wood flooring - was bare. The trees had lost their foliages thus he would have to move fast and never stop if he wanted to escape as the forest would offer no cover from the sky. The tree trunks would probably break like little wood under the beast weight.

He didn't have the time to plot his evasion before the rustling of wings echoed outside. The dragon was already back and running into the forest was no longer an option. But he could still evade the creature. Surely, dragons were gigantic being. So the one that had taken him couldn't possibly have access to all the room. He would just have to hide in one with a small door.

Damian went to the first floor, the rooms downstairs were made for holding parties and were generally bigger than private quarters. He chose the narrower corridor and picked a room without a window opening onto the front yard so the dragon wouldn't break it to grab him. It was a small bedroom, perhaps for a maid, with a single bed and basic furniture. Everything was covered in dust, making his nose hitch in discomfort. He restrained himself from making any noise to not betray his location. He tried to open the closet but it creaked too much so he gave up. He had hoped to find other clothes as he had started shivering again. There was no fire to warm him in here.

He waited for the dragon to come for him, tear apart the door and snag him but nothing happened. The castle remained silent. No roar of anger. No claws scratching against the wall.

Hours passed and the sun declined, and the dragon never came to find him. Tired and freezing, he shook the sheets and pillows before settling on the bed, fold back on himself.

Part 2

[imagine-loki]

Title- Abandoned

Title : Abandoned

Chapter no/One-shot- Part 3 

Author: StarryNight35/StarryNightFantasies 

Original Imagine: Imagine Loki witness a person abandoning a pet, he pays little heed at first, humans, of course, are fickle creatures, but on hearing the human use words like “runt” and “worthless” something in him stirs. Looking into the box human has dumped the animal in, he realises it is a small black furball. 

Rating: G (Some Language) 

Notes/Warnings: Some languages- A few F-bombs 

You can read it on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12152160/chapters/27743847

As soon as they were outside the store, Steve called Tony to beg for a ride back to the tower. There was just no way the three of them were going to make it back with all of their purchases and a kitten in tow. Tony hadn’t wanted to let a critter inside any of his vehicles, and neither had Fury, but when their situation compromised the team, they relented, deciding prejudices weren’t as important as security. 

When Tony arrived, he parked Fury’s SUV in the fire lane and opened his window to find Loki and Bucky standing on the sidewalk playing with Fennie. The two of them each had a different toy- both covered in ridiculous feathers and bells- and were teasing her until she batted at either. Whichever toy she chose was considered the “winner." 

"Oh hells bells, Steve. Don’t tell me they're both in love with her.”

Steve simply smiled and called for them to load up. 

“Okay, before we leave- Did you get a litter box?” Tony asked Loki. 

“Of course we did, Stark. Isn’t that why we came here?" 

"It’s an automatic!” Bucky said, excitedly. 

  When they reached the tower, Loki began assembling the feces collector, as he called it, as Tony stood over his shoulder. Tony’s constant stream of comments about Loki’s mechanical abilities was starting to wear on the god, but he kept his mouth shut for Fennie’s sake. He knew that one wrong word would be enough reason in Tony’s eyes to make him change his mind. 

“I could make this better. I could make this so much better,” Tony remarked. 

Loki rolled his eyes and turned to look at the metal man. 

“And why would you bother making a ‘shit box,’ as you so eloquently referred to it, better Stark?" 

"Because I can,” Stark replied haughtily.

  Two hours later, Fennie’s litter box not only automatically rid itself of soiled litter, it also refilled itself with state-of-the-art, biodegradable litter that had been reprocessed through a filter that Tony had added himself. 

“Sheesh Tony, were you that bored?" 

Loki looked up to see the archer standing in the doorway of Stark’s laboratory. He wasn’t too comfortable with Clint, not only because of the way he’d reacted when Loki had first arrived, but because of the way he continued to badger Loki.

Loki had made a solid effort to apologize to the archer after using his scepter to control him during the battle, even going so far as to offer to do his bidding for several days- basically what Clint had done for him. Even though the things Clint had done were a far cry from what Loki would have to do.

It was completely against Loki’s nature to do anything of the sort, but Banner had suggested the offer as a way to 'heal relations with those he hurt.’ However in the end, the archer hadn’t accepted, and Loki now realized he would simply have to put up with whatever verbal abuse Clint could throw at him. 

"I am simply offended by inferior technology, Barton,” Stark replied. 

“I’m offended by the fact that the prisoner gets to have a pet.” The archer glared at Loki. 

Loki rolled his eyes.

Bucky had been standing in the corner watching Tony in awe, but now wore a scowl. 

“Wait. This is inferior technology?! I had to scoop cat shit by hand! This is a masterpiece!" 

"It is now,” Stark said without humor. 

  Loki hadn’t been joking when he said he would turn himself into a cat for Fennie’s sake. In fact, later that night, he ended up doing just that. But it wasn’t because she wanted to play and had exhausted all of her options for toys. They had bought loads of cat toys.

Loki had given her a dish of milk in hopes that she would calm down enough to allow him to rest. However, as soon as he tried to turn the lights off, she began to whine. 

“What’s wrong darling? Is your bed not comfortable?" 

Steve had laughed at Loki for choosing ’the single most ostentatious cat bed in the store,’ but Fennie was his baby now, so he could do what he wanted. Besides, prisoner or no, Loki had money. He was a prince after all. 

Lifting Fennie from her bed, Loki cradled her in his arms and noticed that she shivered. It broke his heart. He knew she wasn’t cold- her body was as warm as a tiny heater. So she must be frightened. 

"What can I do, love? You’re so tiny…and you must miss your mother. To be quite honest, and only because I know you can’t tell anyone, I miss mine too." 

A bit of Loki’s hair hung down close enough for Fennie to reach, and she rubbed her face against it. It was then that Loki realized how he would calm her nerves. 

"I may not smell like your mother, but perhaps I can feel like her?" 

Loki set Fennie down on the duvet, made sure his bedroom door was locked, and concentrated all of his Seidr inward. Seconds later, Fennie had a very different sleep mate; a black long-haired cat with piercing green eyes. Laying down next to her, he gently brushed his newly formed paw over her back and she curled into his side and fell fast asleep; purring the entire time. 

  "Loki!” 

Someone was banging on his bedroom door. 

“Come ON, man…let me in. I want to play with Fennie too!”

Bucky. 

Bucky was banging on his door, and he was still in cat form. And Fennie was already at the door, scratching to be let out.

“He shouldn’t have his door locked in the first place,” Stark muttered. “I can fix this." 

Oh Hel.

The lock tumbled, the doorknob turned, and the door was open. 

Loki was on his feet, but that was all he could do. Evidently, cats were very sleepy creatures. He hadn’t counted on that. His eyes were glued shut, his back was arched, and he stretched involutarily. Yawning as wide as his mouth would open, he forced himself to focus on the scene around him…

"Why the fuck are there two cats in here? And where the hell is Loki?” Stark yelled. 

Suddenly, there were Avengers everywhere. In a panic, Loki tried to answer, but all that came out was a low hiss, so he leapt off of the bed and did his best to concentrate on returning to normal. 

“Is he missing? How the hell did he get out?!" 

”FUCK! I knew this would happen!“ 

Natasha…Clint…Bruce…Steve… Some of them were kinder than others- realizing that there must be something else going on; something besides the immediate conclusion that the 'supervillain’ had escaped. Loki idly wondered how long that reputation would last… or if it would last forever. Would he ever shake it here on Midgard? 

Focus. 

The voices all ran together while Loki gathered the magical energy he needed, and a few seconds later, he was standing on two feet again and fully capable of answering them himself. 

”Norns. Calm down. Why would I try to escape without her? I fell asleep trying to comfort her…“ 

  In the relative silence that followed, it was Bucky that finally spoke- through a fit of laughter. 

"You- you… You really did turn yourself into a— a cat!”

He howled and doubled over in the doorway. No one else was amused, the least of all Tony, who was glaring at Loki as if he had insulted his mother just before bragging about sleeping with Pepper. 

“You’re damn lucky I didn’t push the fucking panic button, Loki. If I had, we would have the Air Force swarming the tower right now, and I can’t promise they would let you live afterwards,” Stark shouted.

Loki merely rolled his eyes, knowing Stark would rather saw off his own dick than not be the hero when something bad happens- like his escape from the tower. Tony wouldn’t call the military unless it was the absolute last option. 

“Sure, Stark. We all know you’d never call them. You would rather risk your life and everyone else’s to play the hero,” Natasha muttered. 

Loki was certain Stark didn’t hear her because he didn’t react, but Loki had, and he could definitely use more leverage in this place. He cocked his eyebrow at her, subtly letting her know that she had been heard. 

  “Now that the panic is over, can you all just back out of my room? This has all been a bit of a shock for poor Fennie,” Loki said; rolling his eyes yet again on the word panic. 

Stark stepped closer to him. “Wait just a damn minute. Are you telling me that I’m going to have to put up with two of you running around here destroying property?" 

Loki looked confused for a moment, so Bucky interrupted. "Oh, I don’t think Fennie will destroy anything.”

When Loki looked up at the soldier, he felt a stab of jealousy as he realized that Fennie was curled up in Bucky’s arms. Bucky stroked her fur as she lay against his metal arm.

Then he had a completely different thought… at least if the Air Force did gun him down, someone at the tower cared about Fennie almost as much as he did. Although the likelihood of any Midgardian weapon having that kind of firepower was slim. 

  Hours later, after Loki had played with nearly every toy Fennie possessed; and Bucky had decided that the laser pointer was definitely the best one, they sat in the common room watching the tiny kitten eat her weight in cat food.

Loki had wanted to buy her the best he could find, even asking the sales people if they had anything better than Fancy Feast or 'this Midgardian gruel you feed your varmints.’ In the end, he’d only managed to piss off everyone he came in contact with, so Steve and Bucky made the final decision; painstakingly explaining every ingredient listed on each brand so Loki knew he was giving Fennie the best possible nutrition. 

“So James, may I ask you a question?”

Bucky knew that Loki only used his first name when he was about to ask him a very serious question, or piss him off royally. He braced himself for impact. 

“Uh, yeah… I guess.” He closed his eyes and waited, knowing Loki had a tendency to say things in the worst possible way.

“You said you had a cat, and it…passed a long time ago, correct?” Loki muttered.

“Yeah, man. Why?”

“How long… I mean, did it live a good, long life?”

Loki was almost stumbling over his words, which was completely out of character for him. He was always sharp as a tack, and Bucky didn’t know where this line of questioning was going.

“Well, if I remember correctly- I mean it was a long time ago, Loki- she was around fourteen years old when she died. Old age. Nothing too terrible. She just… didn’t wake up one morning. But I knew it was going to happen soon. She was having a hard time walking… her joints were achy… sometimes I had to help her up…" 

"That’s enough,” Loki interrupted. He wasn’t being harsh, but Bucky could tell he was upset. 

“What did I say? I don’t… oh. Oh, I get it. That’s such a short time for you. I guess I shouldn’t have told you." 

Loki looked down at Fennie, who was still slurping up wet food. Why did everything on this planet have to be so fleeting? Human lives were so short, but he had never considered feline lives would be even shorter. He smiled sadly for a moment, but decided if she only had fourteen years, he would make them the best fourteen years ever.

"No, I’m glad you did. It just means I have to make the most of my time with her. Or find a way to stop her aging. I doubt Idunn’s apples work on felines though.”

  Suddenly, something hit the countertop in between them. It was one of Fennie’s fluffy kitten toys. Loki looked up and scowled at Stark, who was standing in the kitchen; a tall glass in one hand and Fennie’s laser pointer in the other. 

“Hey, you know I can make every one of these toys better, right?” Stark yelled from the kitchen. 

Loki rolled his eyes at Bucky. Stark was always completely oblivious to serious conversations happening around him. He just barreled through the area like a rolling cannon. 

“Let’s let him do it. Fennie deserves the best,” Bucky grinned. 

[delisp]

More of You

Characters: Crowley x Reader 

Warnings: Explicit, Drinking, Smut, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Language, Angst, Fluff 

Word Count 4,150 ish                                                     

Summary: Crowley has been thinking of the woman he met and spent the night with after the Vince Vincente Concert. He decides to see her again. This is a follow up to my story “Whiskey and You”.  

Crowley was sitting on his throne, looking both regal and terribly bored. His thoughts wandered back in time, just a few months ago, to his little nursemaid. The night had started out alright but went bad quickly but was then was redeemed by a lovely human creature. She had no idea that he was a demon or the King of Hell, and wanted nothing from him except to tend his wounds and enjoy his company. She liked him for his own charms and Crowley liked that, a lot.  He tried to separate his like for her and his like for her attention, but realized he couldn’t. He missed her. 

Crowley was startled back to reality by a lower level demon groveling for his attention. 

“What do you want?” The King demanded harshly. 

“I have the tallies of souls pledged and collected in the last year, categorized by who made the deal and correlated by…” 

 “Blah, blah, blah.” Crowley interrupted, “Just leave your findings and go.”

 “Yes, my liege.” The demon bowed low and backed away from his king. 

Crowley was weary of Hell and the demons scurrying around like manic mice, half of which were plotting to overthrow him. He stood, smoothed his jacket, left Hell and appeared outside the little dive bar where he met her. His pride wouldn’t allow him to go to her apartment.  

He strolled into the bar, confidence rolling off him like an ocean breeze off the Pacific. His eyes adjusted to the dimness quickly. He looked around before motioning to the waitress and sitting at a table. 

“I’ll have a whiskey, love.” Crowley spoke low and mellow. 

“Yes sir.” The waitress smiled and went to get the drink.  

After his third whiskey the King of Hell was getting annoyed. The bar was filling up with a younger crowd which changed the atmosphere completely. It was no longer a quiet place to sip a drink and think. Now it was noisy and playing hideous music, but most importantly, she wasn’t in the crowd. 

“Bollocks.” He muttered under his breath and went to the bar to pay his tab.

He was ready to leave, but had no particular destination in mind. He paid and walked outside. Pausing to admire the sunset, he leaned his shoulder against the rough brick wall. Crowley liked sunsets for their unpredictable beauty. Brilliant colors spreading across the sky, paying homage to the sun, like courtiers before their queen.

“Crowley?” A soft feminine voice questioned.]

He turned away from the waning sun to see the lovely nurse he’d been thinking of so often. 

“Hello darling.”  

She stepped closer and threw her arms around his neck, her head laying against his chest. His arms held her and Crowley wondered why he had waited so long to see her again.  

“I thought I was hallucinating for a minute. I have wanted to see you so bad. Every time I see a dark suit, I get excited and then it isn’t you.”

“Shhhhh, pet, I’m here. I’ve missed you too.” He soothed as he stroked her hair. 

She pulled back and looked into his face, her expression was hopeful as she asked, “How long are you in town?” 

“I’m not entirely sure love, but you have my attention while I am here.” 

“Come to my place?”  

“Of course.” She stepped beside him and placed her hand in his, wanting to touch him and needing the reassurance that he was real and with her.

 “So what's been going on in your world, Crowley?”

 “Oh the usual, making deals and keeping operations running smoothly.” He waved his hand as he spoke. “What have you been doing?” 

“Just living, you know work, family, friends, the usual boring stuff.” She leaned in closer to him as they walked and chatted.  

Crowley had missed this feeling. A sense of relaxation mingled with goodness and she was solely responsible for it. She was an amazing and beautiful woman.  

She swatted Crowley's arm, jarring him back to the present.

Crowley arched an eyebrow and looked down at her. “What?” 

“Are you bored with me already?”

“Never, darling. I was thinking of what a remarkable and sexy woman you are.” 

She smiled at his praise. “Well thank you.”  

She reached in her pocket for her keys, unlocking the apartment door. She walked inside dropping them on a small table with Crowley close behind her. Crowley turned her fully into his arms and captured her lips with his. His kiss was gentle but possessive. She wound her hands around his neck and pressed her body against his. Her mouth opened to him when his tongue teased her lips. At her submission, the King moaned. The kiss deepened and their tongues danced a suggestive tango. 

Crowley wanted to sink deep into her and stay there forever. He felt almost desperate to claim her and the way she was writhing against him made it difficult to think about anything else.  

She broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “Crowley, if you don’t fuck me soon, I’m going to explode. I need you.”  

Crowley’s eyes grew dark with lust at her words, “We can’t have you exploding, darling.” 

Her hands eased his suit jacket off his shoulders and he shrugged out of it before roughly reclaiming her mouth. Hands fumbled between them as they blindly worked buttons in a frenzy to rid each other of their clothes.

 Crowley stepped back and looked up and down her body appreciatively, licking his lips. “Such lush curves.” He smoothed his hands over her hips before cupping her ass to lift her.  

She moaned and bit her lip in anticipation.  “Ready, love?”  “I’ve been ready.” 

She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on to his shoulders to steady herself, then gave a little wiggle of her hips. Crowley chuckled low at her boldness. Not many people spoke to him so directly and it was one of the many things that he found attractive about her. 

He took a few steps forward and she felt the coolness of the wall against her naked back a few seconds before his dick plunged into her waiting core.  

Crowley fucked her against the wall, and she held on to him and met his thrusts enthusiastically. Desire pulsed through her body like an electric current. She reveled in the sensations assaulting her; the smooth wall at her back, Crowley's hands gripping her ass and his chest hair teasing her nipples as his cock pounded into her.  

She moaned and leaned her head on his shoulder as her orgasm started to build. She felt her pussy convulse and a delicious wave washed over her beginning in her core and traveling outward. Crowley's cock twitched inside her in response and he threw his head back muttering a curse as he came.  

He eased her back onto her feet. They stood close, foreheads touching as their breathing calmed. Crowley caressed the side of her face and trailed his hand down to hers, entwining their fingers.  

“I have a wonderful idea! Come on.”  Smiling brightly she tightened her grip and dragged him across the apartment. 

“Slow down pet, let me catch my breath before you seduce me again.”

 She laughed a full throaty laugh. “Oh baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet. And for the record, you seduced me with that Crowley kiss, it’s like a damn drug.” 

They stopped at the door to her bathroom. Crowley let his eyes feast on her naked body. She reminded him of a belly dancer, curves in all the right places. From the rounded heaviness of her breasts to the slope of her hips and even the light stretch marks on her tummy, she was an enchantress. Her body was made for fucking and his cock jerked, betraying his thoughts.

“Would you draw us a bubble bath?” She smiled sweetly, waiting for his answer. 

“Yes. Where are you running off to, pet?” He asked her retreating backside.  

“Not far, just taking care of the other part of my idea. I’ll be right back, sexy beast.” 

Crowley went into the bathroom and started the water in the huge soaker tub. He added a capful of bubble bath to the water, then smiled and poured in another. When it was almost half full, he climbed in and sank below the bubbles with a sigh.  

She walked into the bathroom with a glass in each hand and wearing only a smile. “Whiskey?”  

“Thanks.” 

“Hold mine while I get in?“  

“Darling, I would hold a whole barrel of whiskey, if you asked.” 

She handed him both glasses and gingerly climbed in the tub, before bending over to turn off the water.   

“What a glorious view. Alas, my hands are full of whiskey and not that beautiful ass of yours.” 

She looked over her shoulder and smiled at his comment before settling in the bath between his legs and leaning back against him.   

“I’ll take my drink now, sir.” 

Crowley handed her a glass and then took a sip of his. “What is this?” 

“Glencraig Scotch Whiskey. My brother introduced me to it. Now we buy each other a bottle every year for Christmas.”  

Crowley kissed the side of her neck. “Craig is my favorite.” 

“Are you surprised that I have good taste? I picked you out of a crowd, didn’t I?” 

 “Touche’, my pet.”  

Drinking his favorite whiskey in a tub full of bubbles with her was close to heaven and far better than he felt he deserved. He knew that if she were to ever find out the complete truth about him, he would lose this. He would lose her. 

She felt him sigh and turned slightly to look at his face. “What are you thinking about that makes you sad?” 

A lie sprang ready to Crowley’s lips, but he decided to be honest. “Nothing this good lasts in my life. I’ve had more rough spots than smooth.”  

He looked like a sad little boy that had lost his puppy, not the powerful man she knew him to be. It was endearing, but also heartbreaking. She wondered at some of his secrets, but trusted he would tell her when he was comfortable. 

She didn’t know what to say, so she picked up the bath poof and shook it at him. “Wash my back?” 

Crowley smirked and took the poof from her. He set their unfinished drinks on the tub tray and she scooted forward to give him space to work. He dipped the poof in the water and rubbed it across her back slowly making lazy patterns.  

“Mmmmmm, that feels good.”  

“Your back is lovely.”  

The poof traveled from her lower back to her right shoulder, water and bubbles cascading over her shoulder and down her breast. She leaned back against him, closing her eyes. Crowley trailed the poof from her neck, over her breasts and down the valley between them to her stomach.  

Her expression was one of contentment. Crowley abandoned the poof and wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her snugly up against him. He nuzzled her neck before kissing her in the hollow of her collarbone. His hand slid from her waist and slithered down between her thighs to find her clit.  

She spread her legs instinctively for him. He loved how trusting and responsive she was. His finger teased her clit and moved lower dipping inside her before moving back to her clit. He nibbled and kissed her neck while his finger rubbed tight circles. 

Her hands were on his thighs alternately squeezing and rubbing. She moaned and squirmed against Crowley as he rubbed her pleasure nub then tweaked her nipple with the other hand. 

“Come for me, love.” His beard scratched the tender skin of her neck as he spoke low and raspy in her ear. 

“So close.” She moaned. 

Her stomach muscles tightened beneath his arm and he heard the hiss of her breath through teeth heralding her orgasm. Crowley closed his eyes and leaned into her neck, holding her against him and feeling her body move and then relax as bliss overtook anticipation.  

She cradled Crowley’s face in her hand and turned to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, sweet man.” 

“My pleasure, darling. Come let's get out of the tub, the water’s cooling and I'm hungry.”  

She stepped onto the bath mat, glistening with water droplets, and handed Crowley a fluffy towel before wrapping one around herself. He toweled off and wrapped the towel around his waist. 

“What are you hungry for, Crowley?” 

He laughed and said, “How about pizza? Do you know a good carryout?” 

“Actually, yes. Are you picky about toppings?” 

“No, not at all. Surprise me.” “I’ll phone in an order.”

And she blew a kiss his way as she sashayed away in search of her phone. 

Crowley walked out of the bathroom and looked at her bed, thinking about the last time he was here with her. He had been suspicious of her even during the sex. Afterwards, he watched her sleep and somehow he knew she had no ulterior motives. 

There was a pair of black silk pajamas laid across the end of the bed. He dropped his towel and stepped in the silk bottoms. As he tied the waist, he heard an electric guitar whining a sexy blues riff. He tossed the towel in the hamper and noticed his suit had been picked up from the floor and neatly placed in the chair. He smiled at her thoughtfulness and went to find her.  

She was in the kitchen getting plates and flatware together, bent over the cabinet gyrating her hips to Stevie Ray Vaughan’s wailing guitar.  

Crowley walked over to her. “Can I help?” 

“Nope, all done. We just need the pizza. I see you found the pajamas I got for you.”  

She smiled and motioned for him to turn around so she could see him from all sides. He turned slowly for her. 

“Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why did you buy pajamas for me? How did you know I would be here?” 

“I didn’t know. I hoped.”  

She frowned slightly and explained. “Crowley, not everything in life is concrete. Sometimes you just have to hope in something or someone even if it doesn't make sense.” 

She took his hand and danced around him on her way to the bedroom. 

“Listen for the door, the pizza should be here soon. I'm going to slip something on other than a towel.” 

The King of Hell stood in the small modern kitchen,barefoot and wearing silk pajama pants while waiting on pizza. He was happy.  

There was a loud knock at the door. Crowley looked through the peephole and saw a teenage boy wearing a bright colored tee shirt holding a pizza box. 

He opened the door and asked. ”How much do I owe you?” 

“Uh, It’s already been paid.” The kid looked at him funny, handed him the pizza and left. 

Crowley nudged the door shut with his elbow. He turned to set the pizza on the kitchen island as she walked toward him wearing the top to his pajama bottoms. He smiled at her.  

“I love your smile. You're such a beautiful man.” She caressed his face as she spoke. 

“Thank you, darling.”  

He opened the pizza box and put slices on the plates while she got two bottles of water from the fridge.  

“Grab the plates and come on.”  

Crowley picked the plates up and followed her, admiring the sway of her hips as she walked. He watched as she sat down with her legs folded under her, the black silk top strategically covering her and then he sat with her on the sofa. They ate and listened to the music, each of them enjoying the simplicity of junk food, good music, and being with the right person at the right time. 

“There’s a little coffee shop not far from here. How about we go for brunch tomorrow? The coffee is strong and the pastries are fresh and delicious.” 

“Or we can stay here and I will make muffins for you again.” 

He saw her mood change in her facial expression; it went from relaxed to tight in a matter of seconds. 

“What the hell, Crowley? Are you married?”  

“No, I told you that first night I am most certainly NOT married.” 

She leaned slightly forward, looking at him hard. “Why are you content with just staying in my tiny apartment? I feel like you are either hiding out or ashamed to be seen with me in public.” 

“I told you before, some of my associates are ruthless. I worry that you would become a target and suffer because of my fondness for you.” 

He reached to touch her arm and she moved away from his touch for the first time since they had met. It hurt him almost like a physical blow.  

“I know you have secrets and I told myself that I would be patient and wait until you are ready to tell me, but I can’t. I am not some slut that picks up random men to have sex with and I am not going to sit and pine away until it is convenient for you to come see me.” 

“Darling--”  Crowley tried to interrupt her, but she raised her hand like a stop sign. 

Standing up and putting distance between them, her voice got louder as she paced around the living area determined to have her say. 

“No. I need to say this and you need to hear it. I don’t have a phone number to reach you. I don’t have a clue where you live. Do you realize how totally pathetic that makes me? I am not that girl. And to make matters worse, I really care about you!” 

She sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing him and spoke softly, reaching to touch his face. 

“Crowley, I’m falling for you. It would be so easy for me to love you and that scares the shit out of me. I have been content by myself for so long and now I have found someone that I enjoy being with in every sense of the word.”  

They sat quietly for a few seconds. She smiled a sad smile and he sighed dreading the next part. Would she think he was crazy or just evil?

 “Darling, I adore you. I love being here with you and not worrying about the real world, my real world. I do have secrets and I haven’t wanted to tell you because I’m afraid you won’t see me in the same light. I don’t think I could bear that. It would be too painful. Forgive me for being selfish.” 

Crowley looked away and then took a drink of water before continuing.

 “Do you believe in angels and demons and things that go bump in the night?” 

“Crowley, really?”  

“I’m quite serious. Do you?” 

“I guess. I am not really into all that to be honest. But what does that have to do with anything? Are you a psychic?” 

He chuckled at her idea and then became serious. 

“No, love. I am not a psychic nor am I human. I am a demon--a crossroads demon actually.” 

She threw back her head and laughed. It was not the reaction Crowley was expecting. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he imagined or maybe it was just too much for her to believe. He watched her and waited to see what she would say.  

“Very funny. Here I was bracing for something big and possibly horrible and you tell me that you are a demon. What if I don’t believe in demons? I have touched you, kissed you, and felt safe with you.”  

“I wouldn’t harm you, you are safe with me.” 

“Hmm, alright, prove that you are a demon.Show me what you got.” She folded her arms across her chest and challenged him.  

Crowley kissed her lightly on the lips, and vanished into the air. She stood and looked around trying to make sense of where he was.  

“Crowley?” She called out to the empty apartment.  

In the space of a few heartbeats, she heard a rustling noise behind her. 

“Miss me, darling?” He purred in her ear.  

She turned to him, her eyes wide and excited. He was dressed in his signature black suit and holding a postcard featuring Lady Liberty. 

“Where did you go and how? And your clothes, you left in pajama pants.” 

“I can go anywhere I like with a snap of my fingers and as for the clothes, I wouldn’t wear pajamas on the streets of New York.” 

She sat down on the sofa and patted the space next to her. Crowley sat next to her wondering what she was thinking. She twisted to face him and he turned to face her. He was reminded of that first night and the kiss they shared in almost the same place.  

“So you can snap your fingers and poof, you’re in another place?”  

“Yes.”  

“Can you read minds?”  

“No pet, I don’t do parlor tricks.” 

“You said you are a crossroads demon. What does that mean?” 

“I make deals. Someone wants fame, fortune, or whatever and for a price they can have it. I facilitate and seal the deal.”  

The conversation felt surreal to Crowley. She was calm about him being a demon and seemed to accept the idea. The dread that had been with him was lifting like a fog being burned away by the sun. He felt such a sense of relief that he was almost light headed. 

“So the whole selling your soul thing is a real thing?” 

“Yes, it is real. Souls are quite valuable currency. It amazes me how cheaply some barter theirs away.” 

“That’s sad.” She yawned and Crowley drew her up against his side. 

 “Tell me love, do you still feel safe with me?”  

She wiggled under Crowley’s arm and looked up at him before answering. 

“Nothing has changed. You are still who you were, I just know more about you now. I happy you trusted me with that truth. Yes, I feel safe with you. I don’t understand all the details about you being a demon, but I know that something in you calls out to something in me. I refuse to give up on that. It is a rare thing.”  

Crowley smiled as a peace settled over him. She was a rare woman, indeed, and he adored her. He could admit it now, he had hope.   

“What are you thinking, Crowley?” 

“I’m thinking you are tired and I should put you to bed.”  

She giggled, “I am not a child, but I can call you daddy. Would you like that, daddy?” 

He growled in his chest at her sexy teasing. 

“Come on pet, let’s go to bed.”  

He stood and held out his hand for her. She reached for his hand with no hesitation and smiled a sleepy smile. She looked so feminine and vulnerable standing there in a long pajama top, barefoot with slightly messy hair. She was beautiful in vulnerability as well as strength. Crowley cleared his throat and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed. 

He set her gently on her feet beside the bed and as she was turning the bedding back, he snapped his fingers and walked around the bed wearing his black boxer briefs.  

They climbed under the sheets and she moved toward Crowley and kissed him. She pressed her body against him, deepening the kiss. His arms circled her and his hands rubbed her back then slid lower to cup her ass through the black silk.  

Crowley broke the kiss with a sigh. 

“Rest love. It’s late and I’ve given you quite a bit to think about.” 

She pouted. “But I want you.” 

“There is nothing that would make me happier than to ravish you until the sun rises. But I plan on going to get coffee and pastries with you in the morning and then making love to you all day and you need your rest.” 

“You will stay and spend the day with me tomorrow?”  

“Cross my heart.” 

“I am a little tired. I guess I could snooze for awhile. Promise you won’t leave before morning?” 

“I won’t leave.”

 She fell asleep her head on Crowley’s chest. He stoked her hair and held her loosely,wanting to touch her and maintain that physical connection while she slept. He had told her his greatest secret and she accepted him. More than just accepted him, she still wanted him and wasn’t afraid of his touch. He had faced his fear of rejection and triumphed.  

Crowley closed his eyes and smiled. Being King had never felt so good.

@evansrogerskitten @roxy-davenport @feistybaby @thewife101 @thewife101cevans @ashtheironbat @2glassesofchianti

[kurokoros]

Title: Incandescent | Chapter Four

Rated: T (language/violence)

Summary: There are monsters in the world. Demons that crawl from the blackest pits and breach the Earth, murdering and feasting on the bones of humans. Lucy has spent her entire life training to fight the skeletons in her closet. Natsu has spent his life running from them. Unfortunate circumstances find the pair of them at Saint Katherine’s Academy, a school of black magic and demons. (Monster Hunter!AU)

Word Count: 3100

FF.net | One | Two | Three |

Lucy’s head hits the ground roughly, cracking against the cement hard enough to steal the breath from her lungs and make her see stars. A low whine tears from her throat and she squeezes her eyes shut, biting back a curse as her skull throbs. Above her, Natsu murmurs a quiet word that’s lost in the chaos. Another gun goes off, closer to her this time, and Lucy can only hope that it’s Gajeel and not someone else.

They’ve been having trouble with Ivan for months now. Lucy wouldn’t put it passed him to follow the two of them out here and have them killed while Makarov isn’t around. It’s something he would do, especially if he caught word about them looking for new recruits.

Ivan thinks everything is a declaration of war, never mind that they’re trying to keep people alive.

Though, that always has been a foreign concept to Ivan. He’s never cared about anyone but himself. Not his son, not his sister, not his ailing mother.

An arm slips around Lucy’s back, Natsu lying heavy on top of her as he shields her from whatever’s attacked them. She rolls her eyes and shoves at his chest harshly. He pulls back, frowning down at her. She hooks a leg around his hip, using his surprise to flip the pair of them over so that she’s resting against his hips, a hand braced on his chest, the other going for the knife shoved into the back of her boot.

Below her, Natsu grunts, his hands settling against her thighs. Lucy ignores him, her lips pursing as she glances around the parking lot, looking for whatever it was that attacked them. Nothing moves around them, the shadows still, not a sound coming from the darkness surrounding them. She grits her teeth, flicking open her pocket knife and brandishing it in one hand, already knowing they’re being watched. She can feel eyes on her, waiting.

“Now’s not really the time for that, Bunny.” The gravel crunches as Gajeel steps up beside them, his gaze on the shadows as well, his jaw clenched and gaze focused. There’s a lilt of amusement in his words, but they’re gruffer than usual, a testament to Gajeel’s growing rage. He never has liked surprises.

Lucy glances up at him briefly, slipping off of Natsu’s lap and rising slowly to her feet, dragging him up with her. He comes willingly, only a step away as she grips his arm tighter than she means to. Natsu merely steps closer, until she can see the way his throat bobs and his arms flex, ready for a fight.

She tears her gaze away from him, staring at Gajeel. “What is it?” she asks through clenched teeth, the words coming out as a hiss. She straightens her back, squinting through the darkness. The boys settle on either side of her, also looking to the shadows.

Gajeel doesn’t spare her a glance. “Hellhound,” he snarls back, gun trained in the direction the creature must have run off to.

Lucy frowns, wanting to ask if he’s sure, but knowing Gajeel wouldn’t take kindly to her second guessing him. It’s not that she doesn’t believe him, Gajeel has never given her a reason not to trust him, but Hellhounds are a rare breed. Most don’t allow themselves to be summoned, least of all by dumbass teenagers playing around with witchcraft. Lucy herself has only ever seen one Hellhound summoned, and that was for a class at Saint Katherine’s.

Because Hellhounds aren’t just summoned, they’re sent.

There’s always a purpose for them being there, and usually it’s not a good one. People die when Hellhounds are summoned. It’s why they stopped using them for practice at the school.

“Dammit,” Lucy snarls under her breath, her nails digging into Natsu’s arm roughly, hard enough to leave little crescent shapes against his skin. He doesn’t flinch though, merely glances between her and the shadows. She wonders how much he knows about this world, how much Igneel told him. Hopefully, enough to keep him from getting killed tonight.

She’ll protect him if she can, of course, but she won’t put his life about Gajeel’s, not when he was never supposed to be here in the first place. Lucy would venture to guess that Gajeel wouldn’t save him over her either, less because he doesn’t care about outsiders and more because he cares too much about the ones he does let in.

A low snarl spills from the shadows, a shiver creeping up Lucy’s spine at the low, wicked sound. Gajeel raises his gun, snarling back at the creature, and Natsu swears under his breath, unflinching even as a large, black dog shuffles out of the shadows, snapping and growling at the three of them.

Gajeel glances sideways at her, looking more annoyed than anything else. She can’t be sure if it’s because of the sneak attack or the fact that he didn’t get to finish his crappy dollar store sandwich, and frankly she doesn’t care much.

“Do you remember the incantation to dispel it?” he asks, low and gravely, gaze shifting between her and the Hellhound, who’s just staring at them, snuffling at the ground and growling at them, but otherwise ignoring them completely.

Lucy frowns, feeling something off about the situation, but she shakes the thought away. Even if the Hellhound isn’t attacking them, it doesn’t mean the beast won’t attack anyone else. They need to handle this before anyone gets hurt or worse.

She wets her lips. “I think so,” she finally tells him, gazing curiously at the black dog. It’s shaggy, lupine in the face and as large as a horse, but it’s hardly paying them any attention. Lucy knows that if it wanted to kill them, they’d all be dead by now. It’s just waiting through, practically ignoring them.

She can tell that Gajeel doesn’t like it, but she figures that has more to do with him being a dog person than it does the Hellhound ignoring them. All things considered, that’s rather good luck. They could already be dead by now, but they aren’t.

Gajeel snarls at her suddenly, catching the dog’s attention quickly. “You think?” Gajeel snaps, more frustrated than angry. It grates on her nerves more than she’d like to admit. He means well, but he’s also being a dick. There’s really no winning when it comes to him, she learned that a long time ago.

“I’m a bit rusty on hell beasts,” she tells him, rolling her eyes as best she can without looking away from the black dog. It blinks back at her, tongue lolling, and then leaps towards them.

Gajeel swears something awful and grabs her by the back of her shirt, practically throwing her at Natsu. The pair of them hit the ground hard, Lucy on top of him, and she sees Gajeel dive in the other direction as the beast lands where they were just standing. It howls, long and low, then bounds off into the shadows, drool dripping from it’s jaws as it snaps at the air where they were just standing.

Natsu hooks an arm around her waist, hauling her up with him as he stands, but says nothing. Gajeel glares after the dog, teeth bared threateningly. She doubts it will do anything to scare it off, but she doesn’t tell him this.

He looks over at her, scowling. “Well, maybe you should practice more,” he tells her scathingly, something bitter dripping from his tongue.

Lucy rips herself away from Natsu and stomps towards her friend. Gajeel, for his part, doesn’t back down, simply glares right back at her. He’s crossed a line and he knows it, they both do, but Gajeel is too stubborn to apologize and Lucy doesn’t have the patience to forgive and forget. It puts them at an impasse, and that’s a dangerous thing for hunters. They never know when they’re going to die, so it’s best not to hold grudges.

She grabs him by the front of the shirt, dragging him down to her level.

“Gajeel,” she snarls in his ear, low and warning. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, though his free hand clenches into a tight fist. She forces him to meet her eyes, watches as something like an apology stirs in his gaze. She doesn’t care. “I will take that gun and shove it straight up your ass, so help me—”

A throat clears behind her, cutting her off, and Lucy twists on her heel, glaring at Natsu. He looks almost sheepish, but also confused and more than a little angry. “What the hell was that?” he asks them, glancing between them rapidly. His eyes stop on her, imploring, and Lucy bites her lower lip, not sure what to say.

Her job was to bring him back to Makarov and let him explain, that was it. She’s not supposed to be dealing with this crap, least of all in the middle of a damn fight. Natsu’s eyes are honest, though, and they make her pause. He deserves to know what he’s getting into. It’s more of a choice than Lucy ever got, and she knows this all must be horrible for him, the not knowing, the monsters in the dark.

She takes a deep breath, stepping away from Gajeel slowly.

Gajeel speaks before she can, snorting at Natsu, his shoulders shaking with a sarcastic laugh. “Oh, great!” he spits, his smile bitter as he glares at Natsu. “The civilian’s trying to be helpful.” His snark isn’t appreciated and they all know it, but Lucy doesn’t have the energy to get angry with him again so soon.

Instead, she grits her teeth and swallows down her anger. “He can fight,” she reminds Gajeel. They both know he can. Lucy also knows that that’s not nearly enough. His fists won’t save him in a fight like this, but at least it’s something. They could have been dealt a worse hand against a Hellhound, could have left the gun behind or could have been killed already.

But they’re alive and that’s what matters. They can handle a black dog from Hell. They’ve done so before, if only once in a controlled environment. Lucy managed to send it back then, and she can do it again.

Gajeel isn’t nearly as optimistic. He snorts, rolling his eyes, practically glaring at Natsu over her head. “Yeah, a couple street fighters,” he agrees, smiling though it isn’t friendly at all, “not a damn Hellhound.” For some reason, Gajeel laughs, his shoulders quaking, and then he lets out a short, amused bark. “We’re all going to die out here,” he murmurs, more defeated than she’s ever heard him.

Lucy bites her lip and looks away, her shoulders drooping as she curls her arms around herself, squeezing tightly. She never should have let him come with her, should have just told Makarov “no” and damned the consequences. Makarov wouldn’t have been happy with her, but at least Gajeel wouldn’t be in this mess.

She wanted to help him out, let him make up for the last mission, not get him killed.

Natsu tenses, his lips pulling back over his teeth as he glares at Gajeel. The fighter takes a step forward, straightening to his full height. He towers over her, but is still several inches short of matching Gajeel. This, however, doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. What Natsu lacks in height he certainly makes up for in raw determination. He locks eyes with Gajeel, not threatening, but not friendly either. “I’ve got this,” he says lowly, hand drifting down to the hem of his shirt and yanking it upwards, revealing a shiny, silver pistol tucked beneath his waistband.

It gleams in the darkness, pale against his tanned skin, and Lucy finds herself unable to look away from the sliver of skin revealed at his hip, gaze locked on the gun that she hadn’t noticed before. A shiver runs down her spine, and she glances up at him almost nervously.

Gajeel looks almost impressed though. Almost. It’s there in the quirk of his brow and the slight gleam in his eyes. Other than that, his expression doesn’t change. Still pissed. Still frustrated. Still unbelievably pessimistic.

Her gaze snaps back to Natsu, to the gun, and she swallows thickly, chewing the inside of her cheek. She can hear the Hellhound circling them, pacing just out of sight, but near enough to let them know he’s still there. She wonders if it’s a threat or if it’s toying with them. Possibly a bit of both. Either way, she’s almost more concerned with the gun than she is the dog.

Demons she can handle.

“What were you planning on doing with that?” she asks him gently, suspicion in her tone. She’s not usually one for mistrust, but there’s something off about bringing a gun to a meeting, especially considering he thought she would be alone. Maybe her perception was off after all.

Natsu wets his lips, holding her gaze. “Nothing,” he tells her quietly, voice low as Gajeel takes a step away from them, trying to pinpoint the circling Hellhound as best as he can. Natsu swallows thickly, pulling the gun from his waist and letting his shirt drop back down. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything.”

She believes him.

“Lucy!” Gajeel snaps, drawing her attention back to him. He stares out into the darkness, teeth pulling at one of the two rings in his lip. She stares back, waiting for him to speak. “What do we have?” he asks suddenly, looking at her only briefly.

It takes her a moment to understand what he means. Lucy frowns, then begins looking around the area for anything they might have on hand. “Two guns,” she tells him, “a knife, a half-eaten ham sandwich.” Gajeel shoots her a nasty look, but says nothing is response. “Cellphones,” she continues, pausing when she catches sight of her car several yards away, “a car if we can get to it.” She mumbles the last part, but he hears her anyway.

It would be risky, making a run for the car, but it could also buy them time if they really need it. It’s better than being out in the open like this.

Gajeel isn’t nearly as excited about the list as she is. “How is the car going to help us?” he asks her, snorting. If it were any other time, she would rip that condescending look right off his face, but now isn’t the time.

She loves Gajeel, she really does, but sometimes she wants to toss him out of a very high window and watch him fall. Not high enough to kill him, but just enough to leave a couple of decent bruises. Lucy supposes that’s cruel of her, but she also knows that Gajeel wouldn’t respect her if she was easy on him.

“Well,” Lucy starts, frustration clear in her tone. Her words drip with venom and she sees the boys exchange a nervous look. Good, she thinks, let them be afraid. Lucy may not be physically stronger than either of them, but she damn well knows that she can be twice as intimidating if she wants to. At the academy, most people have learned not to piss her off if they can help it. “Do you have a translation book in the car?” she asks her friend, smile tight, more teeth than anything.

The only reason she bothers to ask is because hers seems to have disappeared from her room. On the off chance that Gajeel tossed the damn thing in her car she might be able to get them out of this mess quicker than anticipated. It’s a long shot, but they don’t have many good options.

Gajeel looks at her like she’s sprouted a second head, then laughs. “Hell no!” His shoulders shake as he tries to compose himself, but it’s futile. Gajeel isn’t one for laughing in desperate situations unless he’s being ironic, but when he really starts laughing it’s hard to get him to stop. “You know I don’t study that shit,” he grumbles between snorts of laughter, seemingly amused at her suggestion.

Oh, she definitely does. Gajeel certainly isn’t being kept around for his prowess when it comes to anything that requires finesse. Latin studies, charms, summons, Gajeel is as useless is about as useless with them as they come. He’s more of the “hack and slash beat it until it’s dead” type. He’s the muscle, if only because he can’t do much else. Actually, that’s unfair of her to say. He’s better at classifications than most. He can name nearly every type of demon right down to the smallest subclass, and that’s certainly nothing to sneeze at.

Unfortunately, that particular skill isn’t going to do shit for them right now.

She sends him a thin-lipped smile, “Well maybe you should start.” There’s poison in her words and Gajeel turns to her and snarls, practically hissing at her.

“Hey!” Natsu barks, drawing their attention to him. He gives a sharp nod with his chin, gesturing to something in front of them. “If you two are done fighting, maybe we should pay attention to the giant dog.”

The pair glance passed him, watching as the dog creeps out of the shadows. Lucy chews her lip roughly, shoulders going tense. The weapons are useless to them. Her knife is steel and so are Gajeel’s bullets, and she doubts Natsu would be carrying around iron bullets with him.

They hadn’t thought to pack for a demon, not tonight. The bullets might slow it down, but they won’t stop the Hellhound. Lucy needs to check the car for her book. If she can find the right incantation, she can send it back and they’ll all be on their way.

She needs that damn book.

“Distract it,” she tells Gajeel, flicking her knife closed and shoving it back into her boot.

He frowns down at her, going very still suddenly. “What are you going to do?” It’s more of a demand than a question. There’s a flicker of something nervous in his gaze, and for a moment she thinks he might grab her.

Lucy wets her lips. “Something stupid.”

She turns on her heel before either boy can stop her and bolts towards the car. Behind her, Gajeel screams her name, absolute horror in his tone, but she doesn’t stop, just keeps running. There’s a snarl, then cursing and shouting. She’s only made it a dozen feet when the dog gives chase, growling and snapping at her.

[boobtubedude]

The Tournament Of The Archomentals: Part 1

As background, which I may spell out later: I started DM’ing a game of Dungeons and Dragons last summer. It was my first time ever playing the game, AND I was running it. I got a few friends who were interested and we all kind of learned as we went. 

We started playing the pre-made intro adventure “Lost Mine Of Phandelver” in June, and segued into the “Curse of Strahd” about two months after that. I led a five-month campaign in which the vampiric Big Bad ended up sneezing to death, because Dungeons and Dragons is a weird game sometimes. This is the third arc, which narratively connects the adventures of four players and everyone they’ve met along the way. It’s my first attempt at a fully original campaign, although it borrows themes and plot points from some familiar pop culture pieces, as well as using some canonical D&D lore. 

At this stage, everyone is a Level 10 character. These are the notes I normally type out to the players, as they literally cannot remember things between biweekly sessions, but thought it might be fun to start posting them for all to read. We had two new players decided to join the game this time around, which is why a tournament celebrating eight gods has six participants. I bet you’d ask because the players asked and were kinda asses about it.

The story picked up right at the end of the last session, with the gnome Garrick hurrying over to your campsite. He noted that he was excited but a little annoyed you guys waited so long to come back. Turns out what felt like a few weeks for you was 10 years in Neverwinter. During that time, your efforts at Wave Echo Cave have essentially turned Neverwinter into a rich, bustling ecosystem. And since then, you have become folk heroes that helped turn this place from Brookyln in the 1980s to Brooklyn now. (Lots of skinny jeans in Neverwinter now.)

Garrick had been holding your place in The Tournament of the Archomentals, which celebrates the 1,000-year anniversary of the defeat of the god Asmodeus. Asmodeus arose thanks to the assassination of Mystra, a goddess in charge of maintaining The Weave. The Weave is like the Force, only for magic, and killing her set off a chain reaction in which reality itself was warped and changed. Asmodeus was a decently powerful wizard before Mystra’s death, but The Spellplague (also known as the “Blue Breath Of Change”) then ensued after Mystra’s assassination turned him into a god-like figure. He turned the lands into hell itself with his empowered Ruby Rod, and was only defeated when the 8 archomentals (beings of supreme power in the earth, air, water, and fire planes of the multiverse) combined for the first time ever to defeat him.

The tournament involves four contests, after each week one of the five remaining teams is eliminated. Each contest celebrates of plane of elemental existence. Garrick’s an organizer, but not an architect, of the arenas in which these contests take place. He’s sort of a coach, but more of a fanboy at heart. (He may or may not have playing cards of the four heroes of Wave Echo Cave.) However, it won’t just be you in the contest: Since the challenges are designed for parties of six, Garrick has two more people that he’s gotten to fight along side you in order to balance out your team’s strengths and weaknesses. In no way did anyone think this was all major foreshadowing for the return of Asmodeus at the end of the tournament, which pleased the DM as he did not have to massively rewrite the narrative he had been planning for a month and a half.

As he takes you into the cathedral in which the tournament’s festivities are arranged, you see Mystra’s symbol above the cathedral door: it’s a red mist rising to the heavens, with seven stars surrounding it. The seven stars represent the seven schools of magic in this universe. 

Inside, you see that Gundren Rockseeker (who gathered you all together on your adventure to find the Lost Mine of Phandelver) is one of the architects, along with three others: 

 Artin Battlehammer (Dwarf): A stout, keenly intelligent creature with an eye towards designing strongholds than looting them with treaure

Theren Amastacia (Elf): Think Cate Blanchett in LOTR, but somehow hotter

Kallista Orianna (Tiefling): about 6’, purple skin, horns that extend out from her eyebrows about 15’’ in a 45 degree angle. A large tail slinks back and forth behind her. She seems to regard you with distrust, whereas the others barely acknowledge your existence

From there, after exchanging pleasantries with Gundren, you met your two other teammates: a half-orc Fighter named Kieran Lonesword and a human Bard named Danfielding. You also meet a halfing named Vivienne, a gruff fashion designer/wizard who allows you all to create your own hero within the world of the Tournament. (In real-world parlance: This is a chance to re-spec your character.) Arzgarth Riffrocker the Paladin stayed the same. Peter Dinklage the Cleric switched his Domain to “Tempest” in order to indulge his inner Thor. Chad The Conqueror switched from Paladin to Warlock, which was badass on all levels. Demora the Rogue did not participate in this, as in real life she was very sick, so everyone established the canonical fiction that she had consumed room-temperature shrimp as her first meal in Neverwinter and was horrifically nauseous. This was not badaass on any level.

Vivienne also gave everyone a pin to help brand this team: a silver pin with the face of the monkey the group adopted in Barovia, Piccolo. Chad was greatly delighted by this development, as he loved Piccolo more than anything in the world. Garrick led you all the antechamber, a long hallway with paintings of the Archomentals on each side. He explained that this first exhibition honored the Earth Archomentals, Ogrémoch (generally eeevvvviiiiil) and Sunnis (generally pleeeeesssaaant). He told you that the fight was based on “Rock, Paper, Scissors,” and to avoid the dome protecting you from the audience that would be watching. Also, he noted that there was audience participation: Above the arena would be a wheel that would spin after everyone had completed a round of combat, in which something fun or terrible might happen.

You walk up to the final painting of the antechamber, and it’s of none other than Asmodeus himself. He’s painted as a twenty-foot figure crushing the hordes of fighters that had assembled to defeat him. In his hands is the Ruby Rod to which Garrick alluded earlier. This painting lifted up to reveal a circular platform inside, and a bright light illuminating it from above. Peter Dinklage kissed the three middle fingers of his left hand and held them up, because he’s a dick.

You all get on the platform, and ride it up. You see you’re in a dome that’s about 30 yards in diameter. On the periphery, two smaller but similar looking trees reside. In the center of it is a huge, beautiful tree. Facing it at forty-five degrees on each side are two stone statues, reminiscent of the Terracotta Army. It’s a beautiful, lush landscape, and your eyes go from that to realizing you’re surrounded on all sides by spectators. You can hear them, but the sounds are muffled due to the invisible dome. Due north in the crowd is a smallish section for the Tournament Architects, and the Wheel stands above them. The options on the wheel read:

Hale and Hearty

SkullCracker

Flight of Fancy

Ring Around The Posey

Amor-All

Broken Mirror

Well of Haste

Electric Slide

The fight begins when the fighters try to use magic to assess the area, which wakes up both the central tree and the stone golems. The tree does a lot of damage when it hurls a boulder at the entire party, forcing Danfielding to heal everyone up quickly. Just when it looks like the initial flurry was over, a dozen ropes descended from the top of the dome, and twelve men looking like Santa’s Elves gone to seed landed with a thud on the ground, wielding large sickles. “We’re the Scissors Gang, here to kick your ass!” the leader declared. Much head shaking was done by all at the DM’s voice for these creatures, but they said nothing, for lo, the DM had bought the pizza that night. Rock (golems), Paper (tree), and Scissors (Bastard Keebler Elves) had finally all assembled.

Combat continued for a few rounds. After the first, the audience wheel landed on Ring Around The Posey, which had the effect of switching all the elements to which these creatures were either vulnerable or immune. That wasn’t too obvious to the heroes, who mostly marveled at the fact that Kieran could seemingly roll nothing but twenties on her first night. The initial batch of Scissors Elves were eliminated fairly handily, as Peter and Danfielding teamed up to essentially roll the elves into the electrified dome like bowling pins, but the group couldn’t make their way to the tree (which had raised up the other two to help attack) nor make much headway with the golems.

Round two started with Flight Of Fancy, which made the entire arena zero-gravity. A new group of Scissor gangmembers floated down like a group of skydivers, which the DM erroneously called “plane jumpers,” because the DM had had a fucking week, so back off. Once again, Peter and Danfield feasted on these creatures, singeing them all with fire. Arzgarth teleported on top of a golem, and struck him down towards the earth. Kieran then curbstomped this sucker to death, and wove the newly-formed floating pebbles into a cape, because apparently half-Orcs have proficiency in Etsy. The DM granted Kieran a point of inspiration, because holy crap, you guys. The audience, on the other hand, threw up in their mouth a little at the violent (albeit creative) display before them.

Meanwhile, Chad decided to use his Warlock abilities to take over the mind of the tree, which it then ordered to hit itself with the boulder over and over again. Not only did the central tree take damage because of this, but so did the other trees. Everyone enjoyed telling the tree to stop hitting itself.

With the combatants earthbound for the next round, the wheel landed on Electric Slide, at which point lighting emerged from the Piccolo pins and singed every player. No one enjoyed that, not even Chad.

Finally, Chad realized he had a Warlock spell that could essentially incinerate plant life, which probably would have helped them out in the first round of combat. Game, set, match, ex-masochistic sentient tree. Garrick ran into the arena, pleased by the results. He noted that they came in second overall in terms of quickest victory, as another team had used that plant spell off the bat, which made things much easier.

Just then, the sky went dark, the wheel started spinning of its own accord, and glowed red from its central point. Just as soon as it started, everything went back to normal. The architects retreated hastily, and a nervous Garrick told the group to rest up for the next event in two weeks’ time.

[shy-badger]

Who Could Love A Monster? Chapter 5

My first attempt at fanfic. I plan this to be a multi-chapter BBRae story.

Read chapter one, two, three, four

Robin and Starfire have started trying to date. As their affection grew it stirred some longing in some of their fellow titans, Raven doesn’t think anyone could love her because of her demonic nature. This doubt has to be put on the back burner as a new threat looms over the city, but during the fight Raven is reminded she isn’t as alone as she thinks in this department. 

Raven looked on as the portal began to warp and rotate in odd ways. The instability of the portal made crossing over dangerous, but still very possible. The demon lord’s men still came through, though in uneven intervals, as she knew that those that made it through were the lucky ones. The other Titans fought hard against the dark intruders, as Raven prepared herself for the spell.

“I’m going to close the portal. If I get interrupted I’ll have to start all over, so keep them back.” the dark haired girl instructed. “Alright everyone, keep our new friends right where they are.” Robin said as he looked back at the empath. His gaze lowered to the Beast below her and he made an amendment, “but don’t get too close to Beast Boy.”

Raven turned to the portal. To close a portal was fairly simple, but to close this one would be considerably harder. The powerful demonic power that summoned it was heavily reinforced and warded, most likely so it could handle the summoning of Trigon. The real challenge was getting through those wards. Amethyst eyes went pitch black as Raven focused her energy on the task before her. She began to identify and inspect the cursed magic as the world around her once again faded away. 

Once she had worked out what she needed to do to close this doorway to her father’s evil dimension, her surroundings reappeared, no longer did she need to drown out the fight as long as she wasn’t attacked. Ancient words in foreign tongues spilled from her lips as she began the spell, making sure not to mispronounce anything. As she worked, the Titans fought on. Robin and Starfire stood back to back, fighting to keep the other safe. Cyborg circled the portal, trying to dispatch any newcomers before they could get a foothold in their plane of existence. Any minions that came after Raven, however, were quickly stopped by ferocity incarnate. The Beast made short work of anyone who came too close, growling all the while.

Time seemed to drag on as Raven wove her dark magic. Ward after ward, reinforcement after reinforcement, she broke down everything keeping the portal open, until she finally uttered the simple spell the sealed the barrier of her dimension. The dark world within was replaced by the uninterrupted sight of the street beyond. Relief flooded through the now exhausted Titan. Before she could relax though, she realized that more demonic men still assaulted her friends. There was still work to be done. 

“Azerath metrion zinthos.” The two men at Cyborg’s back were surrounded in black shadows before rising into the air above him. With a through of her arms, the men in her grasp flew into their allies in front of the eldest hero. The captive men didn’t stop there however. Raven lifted her hands and the now unconscious enemies rose once more. Again these two were used against their own kind, as the enemies to Robin’s right were next victims of her rag doll toss. This provided enough of a distraction for Starfire and her boyfriend to defeat the remainder of the opponents surrounding them.

The battle was long and arduous, but it was finally over. The team relaxed as they allowed their fatigue to take hold. Cyborg took a knee, looking to his mechanical arm for a status report. Starfire and Robin sat on the ground, back to back, and hand in hand. Raven landed softly on the ground, breathing heavily from the effort it took to survive this accursed day. The Beast approached her, its heavy breaths ragged and vicious. Now that he wasn’t attacking everything near her, Raven turned her violet eyes to his green mass. Though the thick fur made it hard to see, the empath noticed that the Beast was covered in wounds. He leaned in and nudged her with his forehead again before the ground shook.

“RRROOOOO” the roar of the monster snapped all of the Titans out of their restful trance. “Why won’t you just stay down?” came the exasperated response of the blue robed girl. The monster that greeted them at the start of the fight, had returned, carrying a car above his head. What was most dis-concerning was the man in the front seat, panicked and screaming. More and more detail showed on his terrified face as he drew closer to Raven, not because the monster approached, but because the car had been thrown at her. 

“Azerath metrion...” CRASH. The car halted in its course, caught by the Beast. “RRAAA!” the Beast prepared to return the projectile back to it’s sender, filling the empath with dread. “Beast Boy NO!” shouted Cyborg. The car was launched anyway, the driver screaming the entire time as he flipped end over end on his way back to the monster. “Zinthos!” The man in the car yell continuously as his vehicle was softly set upon the ground by Raven’s powers. A whistle filled the air as Robin’s little disk flew towards the monster, impact causing it to explode and encase the black and red attacker in ice. “Why don’t you just chill out?” Robin remarked.

Raven skirted around the Beast and confronted him. “Beast Boy, You need to calm down.” She instructed, a low growl the only reply. Raven looked at the Beast before her. This was no monster, this was her friend. Beast Boy, who earlier that day tried his best to help her, now needed her help. Memories of the green changeling flooded her mind. His laugh, his smile, the way he was always the first one to figure out when something was wrong with her. This annoying boy, at some point, wormed his way into her heart and made her care for him more than she thought she could. So it was, that she realized her level of affection for Beast Boy, why she had been thinking of him so much lately, and why it hurt so much to see him in this state.

Raven’s voice dropped as she softly placed her hands on the sides of the Beast’s face. “Gar, you did it. I’m safe, now please come back to me.” She plead, deciding that since the Beast had protected her the whole time, then maybe he would calm down once she was completely safe. The Beast stared at her for an eternity before his ragged breathing finally slowed. “Garfield.... I need you to come back to me. Please... Give me back my friend. Come back to me Gar.” she pleaded with her friend’s inner fury. The seconds felt like hours as she waited. Then, she felt it. The hair in her hands began to shorten as the Beast shrank before her, claws receding, fury abating. Finally Beast Boy’s green eyes met hers and Raven’s heart sang. Relief flooded her so much that, without thinking, she wrapped her arms around the changeling’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug.

Beast Boy’s wounded arms wrapped around her waist. “Uhh, Rae? Not that I don’t like the hug, but what happened?” Came the shapeshifter’s shaky voice, a welcome sound to her ears. Before she could answer however, the man in the car had finally gotten the nerve to get out of the vehicle. “M-M-M-M- Monster. Y-Y-Y-You’re a monster. You tried to throw me into some...some...some...devil creature!” The now crying bystander proclaimed.

“Okay pal. That’s enough. How about you thank us for saving your life by going to the hospital. Like now.” Cyborg ordered as he pushed the man towards the street corner. Beast Boy grabbed Raven’s shoulders and pushed her to arm’s length. “Rae, did I really? What happened?” he questioned. Raven’s heart sank to think of the state he was in. She knew how she felt when she lost control and imagined the Beast was similar, if less memorable. “You lost control, yes, but you didn’t hurt anyone.” the empath said, trying to tell him the truth and comfort him at the same time.

“What about that guy back there?” the green Titan asked, pointing to the now empty car. “He said I tried to throw him.” Raven couldn’t meet his eyes. After all she had been through today, she didn’t want to recount it aloud. All the violet haired girl wanted was comfort. The recent hug flashed through her mind, and Raven had to admit that hugging him again sounded like it would help calm her down a lot.

“Maybe we should all go home and settle down before we talk about this.” Robin offered, trying to appease the shapeshifter. “Yes! And when we arrive, I can cook a traditional Tameranian victory feast to make our spirits do the livening!” Starfire added. After a moment’s pause, Beast Boy sighed. “Yeah okay.” 

“Now I guess I’ll call a tow truck.” Cyborg wept. After he completed his call, the Titans returned to the tower. Robin returned on his motorcycle. Starfire carried Cyborg, as the T car was no longer and option. Raven offered to carry Beast Boy, so he didn’t have to agitate his wounds. She felt her face heat up when she thought of holding him close the entire way across the city. “That would be nice. If I transform the wounds would carry over. Thanks Rae.” he said, smiling at her.

At the tower Cyborg insisted they all get checked up in the med ward. Robin had some cuts and bruises, Starfire and Cyborg were both mostly unharmed. Raven had some internal bruising and was told to stay hooked up to the monitors for the night. Beast Boy was the only Titan who took any serious damage. Cuts, bruises, a few deep gashes, and his arm was fractured. Cyborg brought in another bed and ordered him be monitored for the night as well. The Titans then recounted the day for Beast Boy, who was uncharacteristically quiet the entire time. 

His stomach was in knots as he listened to what he had done.  “BB? You ok?” came the concerned voice of Cyborg to snap him back to the moment. Beast Boy decided to make a joke to convince them he was okay. “No. I’m scared you are going to make me some of that terrible hospital food.” he jested. “Man shut up or I’ll...” Cyborg was interrupted by the beeping coming from his arm. “Its getting kind of late. We should let these guys get some rest anyway. Get to feeling better guys.” Robin said. Starfire and Cyborg said their goodnights and the three left the room. Before the door shut Beast Boy heard Cyborg start talking to the lovebirds. “I can’t believe they both lost control on the same day.” The door slid shut behind them and Beast Boy was left alone with the dark beauty that was Raven.

To be continued in ch. 6.