The Marvel characters featured (X-Men, Fantastic Four, Avengers, et al) are all owned by Marvel Comics. Hellstar, Thermoblast, Hotshock, Chillstar, Fluxwave, Iron Maiden and Meanstreak are owned by myself. This is my first posting, so please be kind.
This takes place in my own version of the mainstream Marvel Universe (Universe 616 for those who know their comics) No copyright infringement is intended, this is all for the enjoyment of myself and anyone who cares to read it. In my universe, terrible mistakes (ROgue dying, House of M, Civil War, etc.) either haven't happened or I find a way to solve them. I'm trying to write the characters with their personalities as I think they have been and should be portrayed. I'm working on some artwork to go with this story, some of which I'll be puting up soon on my website www.toxicchain.com
The plot is beginning to take off now...
The atack on the Hellicarrier, the resulting damage to New York, The discovery of a crashed alien fighter...
The X-Men, Fantastic Four and Avengers dealing with the damage to New York and the Drama Ahead, are all leading towards the largest plot the Marvel Heroes have ever faced. They will all need to work as a team to battle this massive new threat... But can they? Petty differences will need to be thrown aside. Old batles will need to be forgotten and new alliances will need to be formed. After all, the heroes are all on the same side... Aren't they?
Chapter 3:
"Oh yeah! That's it! Take it Web Slinger!" Johnny Storm moaned as he looked down at the expert cock sucker between his muscular, spandex covered thighs. Spider-Man's head bobbed up and down as he knelt on the floor of the Avengers Tower's main gymnasium. The thought of getting caught added to the horny atmosphere, not to mention the Human Torch's huge, red hot pole pounding down his throat.
Spider-man had his mask pulled up to his nose so he could slide Johnny's cock into his mouth. The top half of his clingy red and blue suit hung off the back of his hips, exposing the top of his butt crack along with the fact that he went commando under the Spider suit. An obscene bulge tented the fabric in the front of the costume, snaking up his right hip, jerking and throbbing in its spandex prison, straining for release.
He could feel the heat from Johnny's rigid tool running through his mouth, the friction of tongue on cock tickling, sending shudders through the rest of his body. Johnny gripped the back of Spidey's masked head with one hand and began to raise his hips from the bench he had been leaning on, fucking the face of the slender pleasure slave in front of him.
Johnny's pleasure was rising. Spidey could taste the pre-cum flooding from his penis, its sweet, salty flavour forcing more desire through his veins. He sucked with greater gusto, hearing Johnny's moans of approval before ripping the rest of his uniform from his body and leaving it on the floor, before pushing the Fantastic Four's hothead onto his back on the bench.
Johnny fumbled with the hidden zipper on his sweat soaked uniform, before opening it and peeling the tight, sticky garment off and dropping it to the floor.
Spiderman now climbed stood over Johnny, hands roaming the blonde man's tightly muscled, smooth, tanned body. His mask was the only thing saving him from complete nudity, even if it was only half covering his beautiful face. He leaned down and planted a hard, wet, passionate kiss on Johnny's lips, their tongues battling one another in a rough, animalistic challenge for supremacy. Johnny tasted his pre-cum on Spidey's lips and felt his cock throb harder, especially now that the attentive mouth was somewhat absent from it. Johnny's hands roamed all over Spidey's well toned body, pure, hot steamy passion radiating from the two, the mirrors steaming up with the heat, drips of sweat falling on the gymnasium floor.
Spider-Man rose up and broke the kiss for a second, looking Johnny in the eyes with a cheeky, dirty smirk, before sinking his hips down in a single, fluid motion and enveloping Johnny's seven-inch, throbbing fuck stick in his tight, hot butt.
Gasped as his whole body shuddered with the intense pleasure of being taken in so quickly and unexpectedly. No one had ever done that with his tool before. Spider-Man's hips rose and fell with frenzied speed, as he couldn't seem to get enough of the stuffing his ass was receiving. Johnny's hips too rose and fell, fucking the juicy ass wrapped around his delicious passion flute.
He stretched his neck slightly and took Spider-man's massive nine-incher into his mouth, relaxing his throat muscles as the hip movements of the man above him pushed it further and further down.
Screams and moans echoed throughout the large equipment filled room. Their nails dug into each others' skin as the crazed motions gave way to the rising, tingling, unmistakable sensation of approaching orgasm.
Johnny's orgasm hit a split second before Spider-Man's. He Shot his thick creamy load in great abundance up the Web Slinger's chute, pounding his cock slower and harder in and out of the hot, dripping opening, feeling his own spunk sliding down his shaft.
Moments later, Spidey felt Johnny's throat muscles contract around his cock head, griping and pulling it further in. In the same moment, he felt the warm juice flooding his insides, blasting his prostate for all it was worth, pushing him over the brink. His whole body tensed, forcing his anal sphincter to tightly clamp on Johnny's now incredibly sensitive, post orgasmed penis, forcing him to convulse and let out a guttural moan around Spidey's own erupting dick, gargling the thick fuck juice as his eyes looked as if they were about to pop out in surprise pleasure.
As their orgasms subsided and their cocks shrank down to their flaccid sizes, Johnny's popped out of Spidey's ass, allowing seemingly gallons of saved-up Fantastic Spunk to drip onto his naked lower body.
Spidey straightened his legs and lay on top of Johnny as he moved in for a kiss.
"You can ditch the mask now, dude." Johnny panted.
"No way!" Spider-Man shot back breathlessly.
"C'mon Peter, we've known each other long enough to know each other inside out. I've known who you were for like five years, man."
"I know, but..." Peter tried to get his breath back, wiping the sweat from his brow and accidentally splashing Johnny with it. "But what if someone was to walk in?"
"Ummm... Dude..." Johnny started to giggle, his cute little dimples lining the creases of his perfect smile. "Did you not think of that while we were doing... What we were just doing?"
The two looked at each other, before bursting into hysterical laughter.
As he slept, the same dream plagued him. His mother's death, bleeding, screaming, before her cries were muffled. This had happened during his birth, but Blade wasn't sure if these dreams were a horrific figment of his imagination, or if there was some psychic reason for the dreams. He knew the story, but knew he was too young when it happened to have any hope of remembering it firsthand.
He shifted on the hard, worn out bed. As he moved, the bed creaked as if in pain. His eyes shot open during the same part of the monstrous vision as always. The Vamp who had killed his mother was about to show his face. Something always prevented him seeing the face of the man he had vowed to hunt. However, this time it felt different. He could feel sweat on his bare body making it feel cold in the night air. He scolded himself silently for his fear, the feeling in his stomach, the cold sweat, for even waking up. Then he realised. He shouldn't be cold. There was heating in this area of the abandoned warehouse. The offices had been on this floor, he'd made himself at home for a few months, even affording some small luxury items. He was usually perfectly comfortable. He threw the thin cover off and sat up. The floor was dusty. He could feel it as he stepped out of bed onto the concrete floor. He reached for the bedside lamp. It didn't work. Something wasn't right. He stood up and looked around, catching a glimpse of his naked physique in a mirror, satisfaction creeping into the back of his mind. He was in good shape. This pleased him. Not that it mattered with his lifestyle.
The large room was mostly empty. A large, old bed in the middle of the room, a small fridge, pile of clothes and his bags. In the next room were his weapons, computer and other equipment. Downstairs was his bike. He didn't like what he was feeling. He silently padded barefoot over the dusty floor to the pile of clothes near the window, his sweat-slicked ebony skin glistening in the moonlight as he went. As he moved closer to the window, the reason for the chill became apparent. His window was open, the black cloth he had used as a curtain flapping in the breeze. He never opened the window. He moved towards it and noticed the twists in the metal frame. It had been forced open.
"Probably Kids..." He mumbled to himself, not really believing it. Something just didn't feel right at all. He wasn't easily scared, but had had this feeling for some time now. That something was coming, some significant event and he knew that when you felt it coming, it was seldom good news.
Then, a smash downstairs. The sound of a large object, possibly metallic falling onto concrete, followed by the sound of breaking glass. The odd thing was, the sound of glass didn't seem to go away for a while. At least a few seconds. It wasn't like destruction of glass, but more the twinkling sound of amounts of it being moved around.
Blade picked up a pair of tight, black boxers from the pile of clothes and pulled them on. If he was going to fight, he wasn't going to go naked.
The sound of moving glass could still be heard as he silently moved to a cardboard box near his bed. He put his hand in and pulled out a large combat knife. He stood behind the door, listening, trying to work out how many intruders were downstairs and if any were on the balcony outside his door. He could hear some scratching on the wooden balcony outside., not far from the door. Backing slightly away to one side of the door, he opened it slightly and could make out a figure with its back to the door. In a single lightning movement, he opened the door and pulled the intruder into his room while thrusting the knife into his back. He placed his hand over the man's mouth to muffle any noise before whispering in his ear.
"How many of you?"
The intruder wasn't struggling, nor did he respond. He wore a balaclava and black-ops styled clothing. Blade pulled his balaclava off and realised why he hadn't yelled or responded to his question. His mouth had been stitched closed. Not recently, as it was well healed, but stitched completely closed.
Blade turned him over slightly and pulled out the knife, causing his prisoner to wince in pain. Blade slowly wiped the blood off his knife and onto the man's black clothing.
"Human?" He asked.
The man on the floor, fear beginning to show in his eyes, nodded. Blade noticed the cut in his back had started to heal already. A healing factor. The man would soon be attacking him again. Blade leaned in close.
"I fight the undead for a livin'. You think I can't take you?"
The man shook his head.
"Either way you're goin' down, so tell me what I wanna know. How many?"
The man brought his hand up, displaying four fingers. So there were four intruders. He inhaled deeply through his nose then started tensing his body trying to get up.
"Thanks." Whispered Blade in his gravely, deep voice "All I wanted to know."
He brought the knife down hard, stabbing the man in the throat. Squirts of blood catching the moonlight in the otherwise dark room. This one wouldn't be moving for a while.
Blade headed out to the landing, quietly and stealthy. He could make out three figures searching his possessions downstairs in the old warehouse. They wore similar outfits, all black, heads covered with balaclavas.
He stood on the landing, observing the intruders. They were looking for something. Grabbing boxes and cabinets downstairs and tiping them out onto the floor. His bike was on its side on the floor, his black Ford Mustang's doors were open , the windows smashed. They were smashing the place up good.
Blade crept into the room next to him. He grabbed his stake strap and fixed it around his thigh. Snapping his equipment belt on, he checked his weapons were in the pouches. His glaive, a sort of spring loaded, bladed boomerang, his explosive pellets, throwing knives, all present. He stood there, in the tight black boxers, armed to the teeth, taking a deep breath, preparing himself for the coming battle. Then he went to the glass case in the corner of the small room. He opened it and pulled out his sword. A long Katana. The Sword of the Daywalker.
Heading back out onto the landing, he took another breath before running and jumping off the edge towards the lower level and the intruders. He performed a somersault, slashing straight through a briefly shocked assailant who quickly fell to the floor, split down the middle from left shoulder to right hip. The others paused before pulling out weapons of their own. Swords, knives and guns respectively. He reached into the pouch on his belt containing his nitro-glycerine pellets. He threw a handful of them towards hiss assembled attackers, who jumped and dodged the dozens of small explosions.
He pulled out the glaive, sprang out the blades and prepared to throw it. Drawing his arm back, ready for the swing, his body was suddenly gripped by the searing heat of electricity from an unknown source. He convulsed as he felt it burn through every synapse in his hulking form. He barely heart the metallic clang of his sword and glaive hitting the bare concrete floor, before he did the same, smelling his own burning flesh before blackness took hold of him...
"Scott!" Emma screamed, clutching her head. She fell to her knees in the alleyway that she, Cyclops and Gambit were patrolling in one of New York's warehouse districts.
"Emma, what is it?" Cyclops rushed to her side and consoled her. She was sobbing into her hands and trembling against him. "Emma, talk to me."
"Dat's some bad mojo there Scott." Gambit murmured through his chewing gum. He stood on and watched Cyclops cradle Emma in his arms.
"Pain..." She sobbed. "So much pain. Destruction... Death... It's close." She began to regain her composure as she began to stand shakily.
"What did you feel? Where?" Scott asked.
Emma straightened her white leather uniform. Not that there was much of it there to straighten. "Scott, I picked up... I don't know what."
"You don' know?" Gambit repeated. "Should we be worried?"
"Yes!" She barked looking at him "I think I picked up two people's thoughts."
"Where?" Scott asked again.
"Nearby. A warehouse. There were broken windows. Someone being attacked. Someone powerful."
"A metahuman?" Scott asked.
"I think so. But then there was another presence. Incredible power. Danger. A stench of death. Then the other mind faded. Scott, someone needs help, they're close." She began looking around, trying to find anything that looked like what she had seen in her vision. She homed in on three broken windows in the dark area.
"There." She pointed.
"Ok, let's take a look." Cyclops pulled up the hood of his uniform and set his visor ready for combat. "Remy, no leaping into anything. This is strictly recon. At least til we know what's going on." there was no reply. He turned. "Remy?" Remy was nowhere to be seen.
He tapped his communicator "Gambit, what the hell are you doing? Get back here!"
"I'm in the warehouse." Gambit's voice came over the radio. "There's definitely been a struggle here, but I think we're too late."
"We're on our way. But don't think you're off the hook, Remy."
Cyclops and Emma ran into the warehouse and were greeted with a scene of chaos. Broken glass, smashed possessions, computers, files, weapons.
"What do you think Emma?" Cyclops asked. "Are you getting anything?"
"Give me a second, I'm scanning."
"I got something Cyke." Gambit peeped round from a computer console behind a shelving rack.
"Some sort of terrorist cell? A mob base? Whose base is this?"
"Emma, cherie. You reading anything?" Gambit asked.
"Yes... There was certainly a struggle."
"Damn, ah love this lady!" Remy exclaimed with his trademark Cajun sarcasm. "You got a live one here Scott. All this smashed up booty and she thinks there's been a strugg..."
"Can it Gambit!" Cyclops growled in frustration. "What have you found?"
"Bunch of computer files on vampire activity, weapons profiles, stuff like dat. Security weren't too tight. Not for this pickpocket no ways."
"Vampire activity?" Emma asked.
"A vampire slayer perhaps?" Cyclops theorised.
"Maybe." Remy muttered, tapping keys on the computer.
"Cyclops!" Emma called from behind the battered car in the middle of the room. "I've got a body here!"
"Tell us something we don' know, chere..." Gambit and cyclops ran round the car to find a badly slashed corpse in black on the floor in a pool of blood.
"Emma, contact Bishop at the X.S.E."
"Alright." She moved to a corner and pulled out her communicator. "X-mansion, come in. Patch me through to the Xtreme Sanctions Executive..."
CLANG!
"What was dat?" Gambit asked, turning towards the sound from upstairs. Cyclops was up the stairs in a shot. Heading into a room immediately identified as some very Spartan sleeping quarters. A shadowy figure coming though the window, leaped towards him.
"Hold it right there!" He bellowed, sending a blast of ruby energy towards the intruder.
With uncanny reflexes, the dark figure evaded the beam and kicked him to the floor.
"Stand down X-Man!" The figure commanded.
Cyclops picked himself back up. "Stand down yourself." The two faced off, Cyclops readying another beam. The light from his visor beginning to illuminate the figure.
"Scott!" Emma shrieked as she ran into the room. "He means us no harm. He's here for the same reason we are."
Gambit, who had also entered the room, pulled out his torch and shone it on the intruder.
"Daredevil?" They all exclaimed.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Well, that's Chapter 3, I've started building the storyline and chapter 4 is gonna be even longer as the action and mystery starts to develop. I promise big things in this series, bigger than most epic fanfics out there. There is a major storyline which will run for a while up to a climax, but if I carry it on depends on where you all want me to take it afterwards.
I'm trying to get as many Marvel characters in as possible, so if there's someone you'd like to see, let me know. Any ideas appreciated, i'll see if i can weave them in.
Feedback is always welcome (DOes anyone actually do that?)
Contact me at explosiveicon@hotmail.com or via my website www.toxicchain.com
Hugz, GJ