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ashinaeIn which Ash doesn't have a single Marvel icon. Odd.
Title: what stays and what fades away
Fandom: The Avengers (2012 - Marvel movieverse)
Pairing(s): Loki/Tony Stark; mentions Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Rating/Warning: NC-17; rape, explicit M/M sex, bad things
Word Count: 3771
"I would break you, mortal. I could not make you mine before, but I will now. I have subtler methods at my disposal. I will bend you, break you, see you reborn, and you will be mine. You will be my masterpiece."
Read it at AO3.
what stays and what fades away
by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashinae
Tony kneels.
It's not because he wants to, but because he is compelled to. There is magic here--no. Not magic. It's merely a kind of science he doesn't understand yet.
There is a force here that puts him on his knees. That binds his arms over his head with chains. That keeps it so dark that it is oppressive; so dark that it pushes him, presses him, would make him mad if it were to last much longer.
This force curls around him. It whispers in his ear. It touches him and it leaves him with the lingering echoes of laughter and malice and silken promises that things will only get worse. That it is his own fault; he would not have been caught if, for some reason, he did not wish to be. His capture had been easy.
It was him, or Steve. Of course it was easy.
The blow rings out in the darkness. A back-handed strike across his face that hits with enough force that he would have fallen were it not for the chains. He hears Loki cluck his tongue, like a disappointed parent at an unruly offspring.
"Look what you made me do. There'll be none of that here, mortal. He's not here and he will not save you. None of them will ever find you here."
Long, wicked fingers curl through his hair, pull his head back, and he stares up into the all-encompassing darkness. Loki drags his tongue over Tony's cheek. "Did I hurt you?"
Tony does not respond. He would never, but Loki pulls hard on his hair.
"Answer me, mortal. Did I hurt you?"
"Yes."
Loki licks him again, and Tony feels it. Thor calls it seiðr. Tony refuses to call it magic. But whatever it is, it washes over his face and the ringing pain is gone. The heat is gone. His skin feels cool under Loki's tongue.
"I would break you, mortal. I could not make you mine before, but I will now. I have subtler methods at my disposal. I will bend you, break you, see you reborn, and you will be mine. You will be my masterpiece. Tell me, do you think the soldier will mourn for you? Or your female?"
Tony's jaw works. Loki's lips are ice against his cheek, over his ear, down his neck. He is beside Tony, behind him, before him. Everywhere.
This is not magic. It is science.
"Perhaps they will find comfort in each other. Perhaps they already have. He is, after all, better than you, is he not? Experience has taught me that females do not see the dark ones--not when they have a golden specimen to give themselves to. No, we are best left to our own devices. To each other."
The words twist and tangle and echo--echo--echo--in Tony's ears. Liesmith. Every breath is a lie, every touch, the hand that rests on Tony's belly, that melts his shirt away, that strokes in a sick parody of tenderness.
"We are not so different, you and I. Eclipsed by someone deemed so much more worthy for no reason than he is bigger, faster, gold and strong. They shine in the light. We walk in shadows, do we not? They are the sun and we the moon and we may never share the same skies--only circle and chase each other in a never-ending race we cannot hope to win. You can see that, can't you, mortal? In the eyes of the others, he is so far above you that you can never match him."
Lies. Steve is his friend--his lover--yes, his sun, his glorious, shining sun and he would never--
"She adores him, does she not? Trusts him. And so what if her hand stays a little too long on his arm. So what if she laughs at his bad jokes and drinks tea with him and lets him into your home. Into your lab--all your sacred places that she shared with you for so long while you neglected her and took advantage of her. When you bed her, does she close her eyes so she doesn't have to see your face? So she can imagine it's him instead?"
Wrong. Not Pepper. Never Pepper. She is his one constant, his always, his soul and she wouldn't--
"That's it. Close your eyes. Can you see them? Hear them? In your bed. On your sheets. Your devoted lovers in each other's arms. How long have you been here now? Days? Weeks? Months? I can sustain you longer than you know, mortal. I have breathed new life into you. You are lost to them and now they have each other."
The cry that bubbles up in Tony's chest is raw and aching, leaves his throat sore, leaves him gasping for breath. Leaves him open and vulnerable and Loki's mouth, cool and calculating, descends on his, swallows up his screams of frustration. The words, the curses, everything Tony wants to say is swallowed up into Loki's mouth and gone forever.
There is no light. There should be light, even if it's Tony's own built-in nightlight. The darkness is pressing down on him, in his eyes, his ears mouth heart soul. There is nothing but the darkness and it folds around him, swaddles him, rocks him to sleep as he tries to remember that he needs to breathe.
***
"Shh, now. You've been in darkness so long, Stark. Open your eyes very slowly. There."
Loki crouches before him. He wears his armour, his green cloak, but thankfully has left that ridiculous helmet elsewhere. Green and black and gold and more buckles and straps than appear to be strictly necessary.
And he smiles.
"You must be hungry. Here. Eat." He holds up an apple. Tony's mouth waters. Trickery, surely. More trickery, more magic, when he leans in and takes that first bite. When he moans for he has never tasted anything so sweet in his life.
Tony moans and Loki smiles. Tony eats; Loki smiles. Tony closes his eyes and ravenously eats, chews, swallows, again and again, without a care for if he bites Loki's hand, but somehow he never does.
Then it is gone, that unimaginable sweetness, and Tony lets out a sound of disappointment. He opens his eyes and Loki smiles at him.
Pushes two fingers into Tony's mouth. "Clean up your mess."
Tony sucks the juice from those two fingers. From Loki's thumb. Licks over his palm.
Loki is pleased. It shines in his eyes.
Tony feels a flutter, low in his belly, but then Loki stands. Tony feels cold, bereft, and he realises what he was just doing. God, no, please, no, not this, not that, not--
"Be still, Stark," says Loki. "Not today."
Not today. Perhaps tomorrow. Tony is cold, through to the bone. Chilled.
"I have business to attend to, but I will not leave you alone. My son will watch you and keep you company." Loki strokes Tony's cheek. "Be a good boy for him, won't you?"
He vanishes. There is a low, rumbling sound in the corner; so deep, so resonant, that Tony can't help but think of thunder, of Thor, but it is a wolf. It watches him.
***
Loki is blood-stained. There is a manic grin stretched across his face. Tony watches him warily, without a word; he cannot say how long Loki was gone. He cannot remember thirst or hunger.
Loki has been in battle. He sheds his armour and stands before Tony. Tony looks up at him, and he doesn't want this. This is not what he wants. He wants to go home. He resists when Loki's hand curls in his hair and draws him forward. He resists when his cheek is pressed against Loki's groin, he recoils when he realises that Loki is hard.
"There has been battle," Loki says, voice rough, "and I have been triumphant, and I return to claim my spoils. I will have you. You will hold nothing back from me." The fingers of his other hand pick open the laces of his breeches.
Tony knows it is not necessary. He knows that Loki could have appeared fully nude in front of him, but this is worse. So much worse. Watching him free his cock. Seeing it stand before him, feeling Loki rub it against his mouth.
"Suck on it. I will have you."
There is no protest that Tony can muster that will work. No words, no biting comments, nothing. He is Loki's now.
Those thoughts are not his own.
His body is not his own, not when he lets out a soft sigh and his lips part and Loki's cock slides across his tongue. Into his throat. He works his tongue against the shaft, feels his own cheeks hollow, feels his throat work to accommodate as Loki begins to thrust into his mouth.
Loki's control is absolute. His hand is unforgiving in Tony's hair. His hips never stutter in their rhythm. He uses Tony's mouth until he has had his fill, until he fills Tony's throat and all Tony can do is swallow.
"Greedy whore," Loki says with deep, deep amusement. "If you're very good for me, you can have more after I have my rest. And you will be good for me, won't you?" He crouches down and curls his fingers around Tony's cock, stroking it.
Tony doesn't know when he got so hard. Loki's hand is bliss around him. Tony moans.
"Oh, yes, that's it. Perfect. Move just like that." Tony thrusts into the warm circle of Loki's hand. He can't stop himself. He can't hold back. He has never wanted anything so much in his life. He arches back, exposes his throat, and Loki leans in to lick it. Over his Adam's apple. Around to his ear. And he whispers to him, the sweetest promises spilling from his perfect lips.
"I will pick them off, one by one. They are as nothing to me. And when it is done, Stark, you will bathe in the heat of the fires as this world burns and always, always, you will be mine."
"Yours," Tony gasps, unbidden, as he comes. He comes over Loki's hand, and in that moment of surrender, he knows--
He has nothing left.
***
Tony kneels. Loki's long, clever, wicked fingers stroke idly through his hair, pets him as though he is a favoured cat. Tony kneels next to Loki's throne, still chained, still naked, dozing as he has learned to do when he is not actively needed; when Loki has no desire for Tony's mouth.
He doesn't talk to Tony, but he does talk at Tony. There is a distinct difference; in another life, Tony used to talk at people, too.
Another life.
Loki's fingers tighten and he jerks Tony's head back. Tony's eyes fly open in surprise, but he doesn't dare look at Loki. What has he done wrong?
"No, no," Loki says, all but purring. He sounds amused. "This is your life. This is your place. Kneeling at my feet. Hush now. Hush. That's it. Calm yourself. Breathe. Good boy. My good boy. Let it go. This is your place."
Tony relaxes. He settles again, though Loki still has his head pulled back. He remains very still, but his eyes close again.
"What a clever boy you are. And mine, hm? All mine."
***
Loki doesn't say a word as he procures the apple, but he doesn't have to. His crooked little smile says it all. Tony strains forward, mouth watering. Oh, he needs it. He craves it.
"Please," he says.
Loki's smile goes from crooked to a full-on grin. He's pleased with Tony, and Tony flushes with pride. For saying the right thing. For his good behaviour, he is rewarded. The apple is held up to his mouth and he eats it greedily, its familiar sweetness spilling across his tongue.
Loki feeds him. He does not yet trust Tony enough to free him of his chains. Tony feels a flush of shame when he remembers that he tried to escape not long ago. He had remembered Pepper and Steve (traitors) and home and work (lies) and so many important (trivial) things--
"No. Come back to me."
Tony opens his eyes. He stares into green eyes, too-green eyes, too clever too canny too knowing, knowing, no--
He struggles. He tugs at the chains, but they are too strong, always too strong, and he lets out a wordless sound of rage and frustration. The chains tighten, they dig in to his skin, they threaten to break him. Split him apart.
Tony howls in agony, again and again and again, until his voice is used up and he's exhausted, sagging in the chains.
Loki pulls his head up by the hair. "Are you quite finished, mortal?"
"Fuck you."
Loki strikes him across the face. Tony tastes blood. He laughs. "That's all it takes, huh? One tantrum and you're ready to break your toy?"
"No. That is hardly even worth mentioning in the history of your tantrums. But if you misbehave, mortal, you must be corrected." Loki looks down at him; Tony looks up at Loki. Time stretches between them.
Pepper. Steve. Home. Work. SHIELD. Natasha and Banner and Barton and--
Loki eats the apple. He watches Tony, seemingly unblinking.
Rhodey and JARVIS and--
Loki finishes the apple. He tosses the core over his shoulder; it vanishes.
Happy and pizza and AC/DC and Star Wars and Calvin and Hobbes and--
Loki raises his hand. The room feels cold. Colder. Colder. Colder.
I haven't seen The Hobbit--
Darkness.
Oh, God. No. Not again. Not again.
Why does he remember so much?
***
"There. That's so much better, isn't it? I must admit that it itched dreadfully against my skin. And look at you, underneath that. Look at this face. My handsome dark one.
"I know. I know, I left you for so long. You must be so terribly hungry. Here, I have a treat for you. Yes, I know how much you love apples. Eat up. No, slowly, pet. Slowly. Good boy.
"I could watch your mouth all day, do you know that? Wicked thing that it is. That's why we are so well-suited to each other. That's what makes you mine. You are so much better off here. You understand that now, don't you? We don't want a repeat performance of your last tantrum.
"Shh. It's all right. I'm no longer displeased with you. You're my perfect pet, aren't you? So long in the dark. But if you behave yourself, that won't happen again. I know you can behave yourself. I'm all you have left. You know that if they had meant to come for you, if they had wanted to find you, they would have come by now. You're better off here. They don't want you, pet. They don't need you. They have each other--but you have me.
"No, pet, that's all there is. You ate it all. Here, lick up the rest."
***
Tony kneels.
He tilts his head into Loki's hand. Loki's fingers are long, long and clever, and they stroke Tony's hair, and for a time Tony knows nothing else. The weight of his chains is as nothing; the pressure on his knees seems to fade into nothingness. His body is weightless, it has no substance, and all that exists is Loki's touch.
The chains bind him to Loki's chair. He is not allowed far. His most recent naughtiness is too close behind them and he needs a short leash.
He has to work hard to be a good pet.
Loki reads while he strokes Tony's hair. He reads voraciously but Tony doesn't mind. Tony is allowed to kneel or sit near Loki when he reads--if he has been a good pet--and he receives what attentions Loki deems appropriate. Usually a hand in his hair. That is enough.
Tony craves Loki's touch. If Loki touches him, that means he is pleased. Loki no longer uses physical correction. The darkness is enough.
Tony doesn't want to be in the dark again.
He kneels by Loki's chair and basks in the glory of Loki's touch. He isn't sure how long it is before he feels Loki's fingers tighten in his hair and pull his head back. "Pet. Your mouth."
Tony moves quickly. He kneels, between Loki's legs, and works his pants open. He licks his lip, and dares to look up, and Loki smiles at him. Strokes his cheek. Guides his head down. His fingers are in Tony's hair again, and his cock is in Tony's mouth. Tony moans as he works his lips and tongue over Loki's cock, feeling it swell under his attention. He has been craving this. He craves Loki's taste as much as his touch. And more. He needs more.
Somehow, Loki knows. Loki knows everything. He pulls Tony's head back and fixes him with his bright stare, waiting.
Waiting.
"Please," Tony says. His voice is rough from disuse. He doesn't miss talking. He has little need for it. Loki always knows. "Please. More."
Loki smiles. "More what, pet? You can tell me what you want. I'd like to hear you say it."
"I want you to fuck me. Please. I need it."
Loki's smile grows wider. "Oh, yes, my pet. I'll fuck you."
Tony feels a shiver of delight pass down his spine. "Thank you."
Loki rises to his feet. Tony's eyes are drawn to his cock, and Loki notices. He laughs. "Come. Not here." And he uses Tony's chains--suddenly thin, delicate, golden--like a leash, guiding him away from the chair.
Tony has not been allowed on the bed. He hesitates, but Loki tugs on the chains, and Tony climbs up. He actually moans as he feels silk under his hands and knees. He closes his eyes, only to open them a second later as he hears the rustle of fabric.
Loki undresses, and Tony realises this will be the first time he's seen Loki naked. He has only ever seen his bare hands, his cock, his face. He is not surprised that he isn't allowed to touch Loki's clothes--he can't possibly be worthy of such things yet. Soon, he hopes. He'll be a good pet. He'll earn the right to take care of Loki just as Loki takes care of him.
Pale skin, long limbs, lean lines, and Tony thinks he has never seen anything so beautiful as Loki bares himself to Tony's gaze.
"Thank you, pet," Loki says. A half-grin turns up the corner of his wicked, delightful mouth. "Soon, I promise. You have been so good for me, and you deserve much reward, but for now, I know we both want this. If you continue to be good for me, you will have all the honours I can give you."
Tony will be good. Without thought or hesitation, he lowers his torso to the bed, feels the silk under his cheek, lifts his hips, all for Loki. A moment later, he feels two slick fingers slide along his crease and tease his hole and Tony moans. Finally. Loki's fingers push inside, press deep, rub over that place inside him.
"So long you've wanted this--needed to give it to me. But only now are you truly ready to give it to me. Your body has been mine all this time, but the rest of you needed to be as well. I have you, body, mind, heart, and soul, my pet. You are mine."
The fingers withdraw. Tony whimpers at their loss but he is not left empty for long. Loki kneels behind him, grasps his hips, thrusts inside him with one slow, steady push, buries himself to the hilt in Tony's body.
It should hurt.
All Tony knows is pleasure.
He cannot be still, or silent; rocking his hips back and moaning with every thrust, Tony holds nothing back. Neither does Loki. It should hurt. It's too much. Loki is a god and Tony nothing more than his fragile, delicate mortal pet, and he should not survive this. Loki is too much for him.
Loki is everything.
Tony's fingers grasp the sheets beneath him, curl into fists with the material bunched in his hands. He is overwhelmed, overthrown, with every hard thrust of Loki's hips. Pleasure spikes and spirals in him, again and again, each time Loki rocks him forward on his knees. Tony pushes himself up onto his elbows, head bowed, breath coming in short gasps as he tries to keep up with Loki's relentless pace.
His world shatters and breaks and crashes around him when Loki touches his cock. He screams as he comes, spending his seed over Loki's hand. From somewhere far above him, he hears Loki laugh. Tony knows he has pleased him. This is what Loki wanted. Tony would give it all again a thousand times over.
He collapses forward again. The sheets are not cool enough anymore to soothe his skin, but he can't hold himself upright. Loki's hands on his hips are all that keeps him from sprawling on the mattress. It's almost too much to have Loki still fucking him, and it feels like this may never end, but it's all too soon when Loki gives a cry of triumph. He buries himself deep in Tony's body as he spends inside him, marks him, claims him.
Tony is drifting when he hears Loki's voice. "Good pet. Sleep now, with my come dripping down your thighs. Know that you belong to me and only to me. I will take you over and again, until you know nothing but this. I have made you anew, my pet, and no one else may have you.
"You will be the one to destroy him, my pet. He will look up to see you stand over him, and you will end him, and in that moment I will rejoice as his poor little heart breaks for the final time."
***
Tony's world is different. He knows it is different but he can't remember why. There is no darkness. There is light; there is Loki.
Loki.
Tony kneels for Loki. Loki will read to him; stroke his hair; let Tony please him. Loki feeds him. Loki tells him to sleep. Loki sustains him.
Loki is everything. Tony aches when Loki leaves him. Tony stops when Loki leaves him alone, and lives again and breathes again when Loki returns. He kneels and spreads his legs and weeps for the pleasure that only Loki can give him.
"You are ready now, aren't you, my lovely pet?"
Title: what stays and what fades away
Fandom: The Avengers (2012 - Marvel movieverse)
Pairing(s): Loki/Tony Stark; mentions Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Rating/Warning: NC-17; rape, explicit M/M sex, bad things
Word Count: 3771
Read it at AO3.
by
ashinaeTony kneels.
It's not because he wants to, but because he is compelled to. There is magic here--no. Not magic. It's merely a kind of science he doesn't understand yet.
There is a force here that puts him on his knees. That binds his arms over his head with chains. That keeps it so dark that it is oppressive; so dark that it pushes him, presses him, would make him mad if it were to last much longer.
This force curls around him. It whispers in his ear. It touches him and it leaves him with the lingering echoes of laughter and malice and silken promises that things will only get worse. That it is his own fault; he would not have been caught if, for some reason, he did not wish to be. His capture had been easy.
It was him, or Steve. Of course it was easy.
The blow rings out in the darkness. A back-handed strike across his face that hits with enough force that he would have fallen were it not for the chains. He hears Loki cluck his tongue, like a disappointed parent at an unruly offspring.
"Look what you made me do. There'll be none of that here, mortal. He's not here and he will not save you. None of them will ever find you here."
Long, wicked fingers curl through his hair, pull his head back, and he stares up into the all-encompassing darkness. Loki drags his tongue over Tony's cheek. "Did I hurt you?"
Tony does not respond. He would never, but Loki pulls hard on his hair.
"Answer me, mortal. Did I hurt you?"
"Yes."
Loki licks him again, and Tony feels it. Thor calls it seiðr. Tony refuses to call it magic. But whatever it is, it washes over his face and the ringing pain is gone. The heat is gone. His skin feels cool under Loki's tongue.
"I would break you, mortal. I could not make you mine before, but I will now. I have subtler methods at my disposal. I will bend you, break you, see you reborn, and you will be mine. You will be my masterpiece. Tell me, do you think the soldier will mourn for you? Or your female?"
Tony's jaw works. Loki's lips are ice against his cheek, over his ear, down his neck. He is beside Tony, behind him, before him. Everywhere.
This is not magic. It is science.
"Perhaps they will find comfort in each other. Perhaps they already have. He is, after all, better than you, is he not? Experience has taught me that females do not see the dark ones--not when they have a golden specimen to give themselves to. No, we are best left to our own devices. To each other."
The words twist and tangle and echo--echo--echo--in Tony's ears. Liesmith. Every breath is a lie, every touch, the hand that rests on Tony's belly, that melts his shirt away, that strokes in a sick parody of tenderness.
"We are not so different, you and I. Eclipsed by someone deemed so much more worthy for no reason than he is bigger, faster, gold and strong. They shine in the light. We walk in shadows, do we not? They are the sun and we the moon and we may never share the same skies--only circle and chase each other in a never-ending race we cannot hope to win. You can see that, can't you, mortal? In the eyes of the others, he is so far above you that you can never match him."
Lies. Steve is his friend--his lover--yes, his sun, his glorious, shining sun and he would never--
"She adores him, does she not? Trusts him. And so what if her hand stays a little too long on his arm. So what if she laughs at his bad jokes and drinks tea with him and lets him into your home. Into your lab--all your sacred places that she shared with you for so long while you neglected her and took advantage of her. When you bed her, does she close her eyes so she doesn't have to see your face? So she can imagine it's him instead?"
Wrong. Not Pepper. Never Pepper. She is his one constant, his always, his soul and she wouldn't--
"That's it. Close your eyes. Can you see them? Hear them? In your bed. On your sheets. Your devoted lovers in each other's arms. How long have you been here now? Days? Weeks? Months? I can sustain you longer than you know, mortal. I have breathed new life into you. You are lost to them and now they have each other."
The cry that bubbles up in Tony's chest is raw and aching, leaves his throat sore, leaves him gasping for breath. Leaves him open and vulnerable and Loki's mouth, cool and calculating, descends on his, swallows up his screams of frustration. The words, the curses, everything Tony wants to say is swallowed up into Loki's mouth and gone forever.
There is no light. There should be light, even if it's Tony's own built-in nightlight. The darkness is pressing down on him, in his eyes, his ears mouth heart soul. There is nothing but the darkness and it folds around him, swaddles him, rocks him to sleep as he tries to remember that he needs to breathe.
"Shh, now. You've been in darkness so long, Stark. Open your eyes very slowly. There."
Loki crouches before him. He wears his armour, his green cloak, but thankfully has left that ridiculous helmet elsewhere. Green and black and gold and more buckles and straps than appear to be strictly necessary.
And he smiles.
"You must be hungry. Here. Eat." He holds up an apple. Tony's mouth waters. Trickery, surely. More trickery, more magic, when he leans in and takes that first bite. When he moans for he has never tasted anything so sweet in his life.
Tony moans and Loki smiles. Tony eats; Loki smiles. Tony closes his eyes and ravenously eats, chews, swallows, again and again, without a care for if he bites Loki's hand, but somehow he never does.
Then it is gone, that unimaginable sweetness, and Tony lets out a sound of disappointment. He opens his eyes and Loki smiles at him.
Pushes two fingers into Tony's mouth. "Clean up your mess."
Tony sucks the juice from those two fingers. From Loki's thumb. Licks over his palm.
Loki is pleased. It shines in his eyes.
Tony feels a flutter, low in his belly, but then Loki stands. Tony feels cold, bereft, and he realises what he was just doing. God, no, please, no, not this, not that, not--
"Be still, Stark," says Loki. "Not today."
Not today. Perhaps tomorrow. Tony is cold, through to the bone. Chilled.
"I have business to attend to, but I will not leave you alone. My son will watch you and keep you company." Loki strokes Tony's cheek. "Be a good boy for him, won't you?"
He vanishes. There is a low, rumbling sound in the corner; so deep, so resonant, that Tony can't help but think of thunder, of Thor, but it is a wolf. It watches him.
Loki is blood-stained. There is a manic grin stretched across his face. Tony watches him warily, without a word; he cannot say how long Loki was gone. He cannot remember thirst or hunger.
Loki has been in battle. He sheds his armour and stands before Tony. Tony looks up at him, and he doesn't want this. This is not what he wants. He wants to go home. He resists when Loki's hand curls in his hair and draws him forward. He resists when his cheek is pressed against Loki's groin, he recoils when he realises that Loki is hard.
"There has been battle," Loki says, voice rough, "and I have been triumphant, and I return to claim my spoils. I will have you. You will hold nothing back from me." The fingers of his other hand pick open the laces of his breeches.
Tony knows it is not necessary. He knows that Loki could have appeared fully nude in front of him, but this is worse. So much worse. Watching him free his cock. Seeing it stand before him, feeling Loki rub it against his mouth.
"Suck on it. I will have you."
There is no protest that Tony can muster that will work. No words, no biting comments, nothing. He is Loki's now.
Those thoughts are not his own.
His body is not his own, not when he lets out a soft sigh and his lips part and Loki's cock slides across his tongue. Into his throat. He works his tongue against the shaft, feels his own cheeks hollow, feels his throat work to accommodate as Loki begins to thrust into his mouth.
Loki's control is absolute. His hand is unforgiving in Tony's hair. His hips never stutter in their rhythm. He uses Tony's mouth until he has had his fill, until he fills Tony's throat and all Tony can do is swallow.
"Greedy whore," Loki says with deep, deep amusement. "If you're very good for me, you can have more after I have my rest. And you will be good for me, won't you?" He crouches down and curls his fingers around Tony's cock, stroking it.
Tony doesn't know when he got so hard. Loki's hand is bliss around him. Tony moans.
"Oh, yes, that's it. Perfect. Move just like that." Tony thrusts into the warm circle of Loki's hand. He can't stop himself. He can't hold back. He has never wanted anything so much in his life. He arches back, exposes his throat, and Loki leans in to lick it. Over his Adam's apple. Around to his ear. And he whispers to him, the sweetest promises spilling from his perfect lips.
"I will pick them off, one by one. They are as nothing to me. And when it is done, Stark, you will bathe in the heat of the fires as this world burns and always, always, you will be mine."
"Yours," Tony gasps, unbidden, as he comes. He comes over Loki's hand, and in that moment of surrender, he knows--
He has nothing left.
Tony kneels. Loki's long, clever, wicked fingers stroke idly through his hair, pets him as though he is a favoured cat. Tony kneels next to Loki's throne, still chained, still naked, dozing as he has learned to do when he is not actively needed; when Loki has no desire for Tony's mouth.
He doesn't talk to Tony, but he does talk at Tony. There is a distinct difference; in another life, Tony used to talk at people, too.
Another life.
Loki's fingers tighten and he jerks Tony's head back. Tony's eyes fly open in surprise, but he doesn't dare look at Loki. What has he done wrong?
"No, no," Loki says, all but purring. He sounds amused. "This is your life. This is your place. Kneeling at my feet. Hush now. Hush. That's it. Calm yourself. Breathe. Good boy. My good boy. Let it go. This is your place."
Tony relaxes. He settles again, though Loki still has his head pulled back. He remains very still, but his eyes close again.
"What a clever boy you are. And mine, hm? All mine."
Loki doesn't say a word as he procures the apple, but he doesn't have to. His crooked little smile says it all. Tony strains forward, mouth watering. Oh, he needs it. He craves it.
"Please," he says.
Loki's smile goes from crooked to a full-on grin. He's pleased with Tony, and Tony flushes with pride. For saying the right thing. For his good behaviour, he is rewarded. The apple is held up to his mouth and he eats it greedily, its familiar sweetness spilling across his tongue.
Loki feeds him. He does not yet trust Tony enough to free him of his chains. Tony feels a flush of shame when he remembers that he tried to escape not long ago. He had remembered Pepper and Steve (traitors) and home and work (lies) and so many important (trivial) things--
"No. Come back to me."
Tony opens his eyes. He stares into green eyes, too-green eyes, too clever too canny too knowing, knowing, no--
He struggles. He tugs at the chains, but they are too strong, always too strong, and he lets out a wordless sound of rage and frustration. The chains tighten, they dig in to his skin, they threaten to break him. Split him apart.
Tony howls in agony, again and again and again, until his voice is used up and he's exhausted, sagging in the chains.
Loki pulls his head up by the hair. "Are you quite finished, mortal?"
"Fuck you."
Loki strikes him across the face. Tony tastes blood. He laughs. "That's all it takes, huh? One tantrum and you're ready to break your toy?"
"No. That is hardly even worth mentioning in the history of your tantrums. But if you misbehave, mortal, you must be corrected." Loki looks down at him; Tony looks up at Loki. Time stretches between them.
Pepper. Steve. Home. Work. SHIELD. Natasha and Banner and Barton and--
Loki eats the apple. He watches Tony, seemingly unblinking.
Rhodey and JARVIS and--
Loki finishes the apple. He tosses the core over his shoulder; it vanishes.
Happy and pizza and AC/DC and Star Wars and Calvin and Hobbes and--
Loki raises his hand. The room feels cold. Colder. Colder. Colder.
I haven't seen The Hobbit--
Darkness.
Oh, God. No. Not again. Not again.
Why does he remember so much?
"There. That's so much better, isn't it? I must admit that it itched dreadfully against my skin. And look at you, underneath that. Look at this face. My handsome dark one.
"I know. I know, I left you for so long. You must be so terribly hungry. Here, I have a treat for you. Yes, I know how much you love apples. Eat up. No, slowly, pet. Slowly. Good boy.
"I could watch your mouth all day, do you know that? Wicked thing that it is. That's why we are so well-suited to each other. That's what makes you mine. You are so much better off here. You understand that now, don't you? We don't want a repeat performance of your last tantrum.
"Shh. It's all right. I'm no longer displeased with you. You're my perfect pet, aren't you? So long in the dark. But if you behave yourself, that won't happen again. I know you can behave yourself. I'm all you have left. You know that if they had meant to come for you, if they had wanted to find you, they would have come by now. You're better off here. They don't want you, pet. They don't need you. They have each other--but you have me.
"No, pet, that's all there is. You ate it all. Here, lick up the rest."
Tony kneels.
He tilts his head into Loki's hand. Loki's fingers are long, long and clever, and they stroke Tony's hair, and for a time Tony knows nothing else. The weight of his chains is as nothing; the pressure on his knees seems to fade into nothingness. His body is weightless, it has no substance, and all that exists is Loki's touch.
The chains bind him to Loki's chair. He is not allowed far. His most recent naughtiness is too close behind them and he needs a short leash.
He has to work hard to be a good pet.
Loki reads while he strokes Tony's hair. He reads voraciously but Tony doesn't mind. Tony is allowed to kneel or sit near Loki when he reads--if he has been a good pet--and he receives what attentions Loki deems appropriate. Usually a hand in his hair. That is enough.
Tony craves Loki's touch. If Loki touches him, that means he is pleased. Loki no longer uses physical correction. The darkness is enough.
Tony doesn't want to be in the dark again.
He kneels by Loki's chair and basks in the glory of Loki's touch. He isn't sure how long it is before he feels Loki's fingers tighten in his hair and pull his head back. "Pet. Your mouth."
Tony moves quickly. He kneels, between Loki's legs, and works his pants open. He licks his lip, and dares to look up, and Loki smiles at him. Strokes his cheek. Guides his head down. His fingers are in Tony's hair again, and his cock is in Tony's mouth. Tony moans as he works his lips and tongue over Loki's cock, feeling it swell under his attention. He has been craving this. He craves Loki's taste as much as his touch. And more. He needs more.
Somehow, Loki knows. Loki knows everything. He pulls Tony's head back and fixes him with his bright stare, waiting.
Waiting.
"Please," Tony says. His voice is rough from disuse. He doesn't miss talking. He has little need for it. Loki always knows. "Please. More."
Loki smiles. "More what, pet? You can tell me what you want. I'd like to hear you say it."
"I want you to fuck me. Please. I need it."
Loki's smile grows wider. "Oh, yes, my pet. I'll fuck you."
Tony feels a shiver of delight pass down his spine. "Thank you."
Loki rises to his feet. Tony's eyes are drawn to his cock, and Loki notices. He laughs. "Come. Not here." And he uses Tony's chains--suddenly thin, delicate, golden--like a leash, guiding him away from the chair.
Tony has not been allowed on the bed. He hesitates, but Loki tugs on the chains, and Tony climbs up. He actually moans as he feels silk under his hands and knees. He closes his eyes, only to open them a second later as he hears the rustle of fabric.
Loki undresses, and Tony realises this will be the first time he's seen Loki naked. He has only ever seen his bare hands, his cock, his face. He is not surprised that he isn't allowed to touch Loki's clothes--he can't possibly be worthy of such things yet. Soon, he hopes. He'll be a good pet. He'll earn the right to take care of Loki just as Loki takes care of him.
Pale skin, long limbs, lean lines, and Tony thinks he has never seen anything so beautiful as Loki bares himself to Tony's gaze.
"Thank you, pet," Loki says. A half-grin turns up the corner of his wicked, delightful mouth. "Soon, I promise. You have been so good for me, and you deserve much reward, but for now, I know we both want this. If you continue to be good for me, you will have all the honours I can give you."
Tony will be good. Without thought or hesitation, he lowers his torso to the bed, feels the silk under his cheek, lifts his hips, all for Loki. A moment later, he feels two slick fingers slide along his crease and tease his hole and Tony moans. Finally. Loki's fingers push inside, press deep, rub over that place inside him.
"So long you've wanted this--needed to give it to me. But only now are you truly ready to give it to me. Your body has been mine all this time, but the rest of you needed to be as well. I have you, body, mind, heart, and soul, my pet. You are mine."
The fingers withdraw. Tony whimpers at their loss but he is not left empty for long. Loki kneels behind him, grasps his hips, thrusts inside him with one slow, steady push, buries himself to the hilt in Tony's body.
It should hurt.
All Tony knows is pleasure.
He cannot be still, or silent; rocking his hips back and moaning with every thrust, Tony holds nothing back. Neither does Loki. It should hurt. It's too much. Loki is a god and Tony nothing more than his fragile, delicate mortal pet, and he should not survive this. Loki is too much for him.
Loki is everything.
Tony's fingers grasp the sheets beneath him, curl into fists with the material bunched in his hands. He is overwhelmed, overthrown, with every hard thrust of Loki's hips. Pleasure spikes and spirals in him, again and again, each time Loki rocks him forward on his knees. Tony pushes himself up onto his elbows, head bowed, breath coming in short gasps as he tries to keep up with Loki's relentless pace.
His world shatters and breaks and crashes around him when Loki touches his cock. He screams as he comes, spending his seed over Loki's hand. From somewhere far above him, he hears Loki laugh. Tony knows he has pleased him. This is what Loki wanted. Tony would give it all again a thousand times over.
He collapses forward again. The sheets are not cool enough anymore to soothe his skin, but he can't hold himself upright. Loki's hands on his hips are all that keeps him from sprawling on the mattress. It's almost too much to have Loki still fucking him, and it feels like this may never end, but it's all too soon when Loki gives a cry of triumph. He buries himself deep in Tony's body as he spends inside him, marks him, claims him.
Tony is drifting when he hears Loki's voice. "Good pet. Sleep now, with my come dripping down your thighs. Know that you belong to me and only to me. I will take you over and again, until you know nothing but this. I have made you anew, my pet, and no one else may have you.
"You will be the one to destroy him, my pet. He will look up to see you stand over him, and you will end him, and in that moment I will rejoice as his poor little heart breaks for the final time."
Tony's world is different. He knows it is different but he can't remember why. There is no darkness. There is light; there is Loki.
Loki.
Tony kneels for Loki. Loki will read to him; stroke his hair; let Tony please him. Loki feeds him. Loki tells him to sleep. Loki sustains him.
Loki is everything. Tony aches when Loki leaves him. Tony stops when Loki leaves him alone, and lives again and breathes again when Loki returns. He kneels and spreads his legs and weeps for the pleasure that only Loki can give him.
"You are ready now, aren't you, my lovely pet?"
