“Did no one ever advise you, Mr. Stark, that it’s unwise to go looking for trouble?”
The inventor jerked awake, eyes opening wide and seeing only darkness. His head ached, but he hadn’t lost any blood yet, nor did he feel as concussed as he’d honestly expected. He was even well-hydrated, which didn’t make much sense until he felt an IV tugged unceremoniously from the crook of his arm.
That was when he realized that he was suspended in the air, arms trapped above his head, each wrist shackled to a metal bar that had already warmed against his skin from long contact. The room was pitch black, to Tony’s eyes, but whoever was moving around in it didn’t seem to notice.
Well. That confirmed that rumor, then.
“Is there some low-level light source in here, or are you using some extra-sensory means to navigate?” the hero asked. He moved a bit, enough to feel the air around him, and further confirm he was stripped to the waist, the room was a bit cool and damp suggesting subterranean or some sort of climate-controlled unit (though, given the earthy scents in the air, underground was more likely; climate-controlled environments usually didn’t smell like a forest floor) and his legs weren’t restrained. His arms were held far enough apart that he’d more likely dislocate a shoulder than anything else, trying anything acrobatic to get out of this.
Worst of all, his tech was gone. All of it. He could feel how empty his pockets were, and rips in the fabric of his pants where bits of clever nanotech had been placed, for alerting his team to where he’d been taken if kidnapped, and escaping, and all sorts of other useful things.
For a creature from myth and legend, his kidnapper was unusually tech-savvy. Most people outside of certain top-secret organizations he consulted for failed to consider taking into account Tony’s more subtle technologies when kidnapping him. They always go for the bits that glow, that shine, and which are in all sorts of conspicuously gaudy colors at times.
This one knows his game, there, and that means the mad inventor did find the prey he was looking for.
Except, the prey found him first.
“I know you heard my question,” repeated the calm, mellifluous voice.
Tony remembered green eyes, dark hair, and almost cliche pale skin. Loki the vampire.
All of it had seemed pretty cliche until he’d found so many historical records suggesting just how long this one chaotic figure, this urban legend older than Spring-Heeled Jack, had been playing games with humanity at large. Usually the rich and powerful suffered most, but this old creature didn’t care too much about collateral damage, if the price was right.
The thing was... Tony could trace the path of this villain (possibly a byronic hero, in his own mind, perhaps) but he couldn’t figure out what the villain was chasing. It had to be something big, something that pissed him off. Cities had burned because of it, some of them pretty recently.
And all of it seemed to coincide with massive thunder-storms, and talk of old gods from golden days of yore. It was enough to make Tony sneer.
Until he’d met a few gods. That had been deeply disconcerting.
“I heard you,” Tony said, his voice low and thoughtful. “I look for interesting, unexpected and brilliant sorts of things. Trouble is often all of those, isn’t it? You can’t blame me for never listening when warned to keep away.”
A low chuckle followed that statement, dark and unkind.
“Do I get an answer to mine, now?”
“I do not require light. My senses have never been restricted that way, but my capabilities with some particular sorts of magic did actually benefit from a certain transformation.”
“So I don’t have to pretend I don’t know about your taste for blood?”
“I would be disappointed, if you did.”
“You did a tidy job on Asgard’s forces. Drained them dry, barely left any evidence how you did it.”
“I’ve been at this a very long time.”
“What did they do to you?”
“They undervalued me. I escaped their punishment after the first thousand years, but fell into an abyss of sorts, between the very lowest roots of Yggdrasil, low and thin enough that even Níðhöggr does not bother with them. I was found by old creatures there, older than the gods, but less powerful. They sought to become more powerful by making me one of them, and offering to make me their king.”
“Well, at least they valued you?”
“Not enough to accept ‘no’ for an answer.”
“Ooh. That’d be a mistake.”
“So they did learn,” the vampire purred, now close to Tony’s ear. “You’re a very young creature, yet you see quite clearly. I’m rather impressed.”
“Uh... speaking of... consent...” the inventor said hesitantly, feeling a cold, pale hand trail long fingers up his bare side.
“I’ve been a fairly good host, have I not? You are bound, as any who hunts me, armed to the very teeth as you were, would be, in my home. I can hardly trust you, after all. I did clean the wounds you received from the dragon who guarded the path you took. You sought out the wrong portal to access my hiding place, but I am impressed that you discovered that one.”
“The dragon is... not unfamiliar. He belongs to someone I really hate. Can you... not molest me while we have this discussion?” His breathing was a little shallower, and he couldn’t say that he didn’t want those hands on him. He’d seen Loki in a fight with gods, armor torn and snarling like an animal as he tore through them with knives and poison-green magic. He’d seen the vampire at rest, too, through the eyes of camera surveillance: cool and elegant and captivating.
He couldn’t say he hadn’t dreamed once or twice of having Loki’s hand around his neck in a more fun sort of way than the last time, and given they were underground, so his being thrown out of a window again was unlikely...
“Seriously, get your hand away from my crotch.”
“I mean you no harm, and I want to taste your brilliance, Mr. Stark,” the vampire purred, lips brushing his ear.
Oh. Oh shit. “That... is an unfair appeal to my vanity.”
“I want to take you apart and make you scream, but rest assured, it won’t be from pain that you don’t beg me for more of.”
Tony shuddered outright because that was an unfair appeal to things the vampire shouldn’t even know about. “You don’t want to hurt me, so let me go. I’m unarmed, you made sure of that. Just let me-” His breathing hitched as he felt a talented mouth at the side of his neck, lips and tongue pulling at this skin, teeth nipping just a little sharply, enough he could feel the fangs without being punctured by them. This, as those long, cool fingers trailed down his chest, to his sides, to firmly grip his hips.
“I’m a very generous lover, Stark. You won’t regret giving in.”
“Will I be let go after?”
“I’ll return you to your tower, your team of fellow heroes, marked by me, where you cannot hide all of the evidence from them. You will feel me for days, and then I may visit you. I’ve been watching you.” A long lick up to his ear, a nip at the lobe. The tips of his fingers slid just under the waistband of the inventor’s jeans. “And lately, watching you begin to watch me. I’ve not had such an appreciative, intelligent audience in some years. I want you to keep watching, so let me show you what I’m capable of.”
Tony wasn’t in control at all anymore, all gone, no turning back. Adrenaline coursed through him and he trembled a bit with it. “You usually tie people up in a dark basement before propositioning them?”
“No, you’re a very special case. Unique, and fascinatingly so. You control your team whether they accept that fact or not: you own that tower, you built it yourself. You control your weapons, which in turn make the laws of physics ‘your bitch’ by innovative technological advances. All that control, and yet here you are, tied up in the dark with a monster, trying hard now not to beg for me to make you forget all of that responsibility and all of those expectations you’re busy defying unto your last breath.”
Not quite suppressing a breathless noise like a gasp at that, as the vampire pulled his hips back, rolling his own forward, Tony realized quickly that he was not saying anything remotely akin to “no” and for a supposedly undead creature, Loki was certainly lively in some regions. Lively and gifted. “Why is this even a thing, if regular reproduction isn’t the order of the day for vampires?”
“I’m a different breed, Mr. Stark. New blood. New rules. I’m considered a father of monsters for that reason, too, among others. I don’t plan to impregnate you, however; I just plan to fuck you senseless, if you’re feeling so inclined as to consent.”
“Fffuck,” Tony all but snarled, painfully hard in his jeans by this point, and Loki still hadn’t even actually touched him there. The teasing bastard had barely caressed his hips and thighs, enough to worryingly suggest intent, but never taking. He was being patient, and while not exactly considerate, leaving the inventor clear-headed enough to know it was his own reckless decision-making, not being completely drunk on lust, that had him saying, “Yes. Yes please. Safe-word is Buffy, now fuck me.”
A low chuckle from the vampire. “Good. Now I think I want you to beg for it.”
The inventor may have emitted a sound akin to a whine. “Nnnot fair.”
“I’m neither fair nor kind, but if you beg as prettily as I believe you’re capable, Tony, then I will reward you.”
“You’d fucking better,” Tony growled.
“I see first, I shall have to weary your tongue, if I expect to still it.” The vampire turned him around then, giving the inventor a swift reminded of his helplessness, and how he dangled in the air, nothing in reach except a mad monster in the dark. A mad monster with, he discovered as a cool, clever mouth caught his own, a ridiculously talented tongue. Tony almost didn’t even notice his jeans being unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed slowly down his hips.
Then Loki’s fingers stroked all-too-lightly up the length of his cock, and Tony bucked helplessly into it, seeking any friction, his startled moan swallowed eagerly by the vampire, just before the kiss broke.
“Very good,” Loki purred. “Now you should prove to me what a good toy you are for me, tonight.”
“Hey, now––FUCK!” Tony managed, just before the chain he was suspended from lengthened, taking the bar his wrists were hooked to, and indeed all of Tony himself, abruptly closer to the ground. It halted just in time to prevent him painfully cracking his knees on the cold, smooth stone floor. His knees, in fact, remained just a few inches above the floor, so that he barely steadied himself with his shins and the backs of his feet. It should not have sent more adrenaline and bliss-panic through him, nor should Loki’s hand tangling in his hair have been comforting, as well as literally steadying his swaying.
“Open your mouth for me.”
Tony swallowed tightly, considered refusing, but the vampires fingers stroked his scalp soothingly, even affectionately, and he wanted... more of that approval.
“Show me how good you are, my dear,” Loki encouraged further. Hard and warm, warmer than the rest of the vampire, interestingly (Tony didn’t have the presence of mind to consider fresh blood and other means of borrowed warmth possibly in play) the head of Loki’s cock met Tony’s lip.
Opening his mouth, the inventor felt the decision flip a switch in the back of his head. Going crazy? Make it worth it. Make it unforgettable, even to someone who punches gods in the face bicentennially. He leaned his head forward and swallowed Loki whole. His eyes watered, and his jaw and throat protested a bit, but not enough for him to choke; he’d had practice, here and there, but this was more than he’d had to work with before. The ragged gasp from the vampire, and the softer sounds that followed as Tony slid more slowly down the last few inches until his lips wrapped around the base, made it worth it.
“Oh, yes, you are so very good,” Loki purred, pulling his hips back a little and giving a groan at the suction Tony applied, pushing back in, letting himself be pulled back in by that. He could see the tension, the struggle the mortal endured, taking him so deeply, but that clever mouth was pure wet heat: no teeth, no fighting.
Tony’s breathing forcibly calm as he let the vampire grip his hair more tightly and steer his movements, slow at first, for which the inventor was grateful, but still deep enough to ache and leave him struggling to keep his breath in time with the movements, to keep from choking. There was too much, and not enough, and Tony shuddered at the sounds that the vampire was making, breathless and interspersed with murmured compliments and encouragement and epithets in equal measure. He was being used, and it hurt, but he kept sucking, kept using his tongue as best he could, and let out desperate sounds of his own at how good he felt just getting lost in the pure physicality of it: movement and sound, taste and smell, pain and desperation. His overactive mind was gone, gone in favor of this. And it was glorious.
He did choke slightly when Loki came down his throat, but managed to swallow shortly after, coughing only a bit once the vampire’s grip relaxed and he withdrew from Tony’s mouth.
“Now, my dear,” Loki said, panting only a little, though he still sounded far too composed for someone who had just gotten off to a blow-job quite that intense. Tony felt himself moved again, the floor dragged away as he was again raised until his toes hovered just a few inches above it. “I do believe you’ve earned a reward, but I still so want to hear you beg.” He trailed his hands up the inventor’s inner thighs, stopping halfway up, making him squirm.
“P-please,” Tony groaned.
“A good start. Please what?”
“Please fuck me.”
A thoughtful hum, and the vampire strode around him, admiring him, fingers brushing his skin only lightly, around his middle. The inventor was not so tall as Loki, but broader at the shoulder, and well-muscled. Very pretty, very strong and powerful, now trembling for him beautifully. “Better. Still something missing...”
“Loki, please fuck me. I want you, Loki, please.”
“And what am I to you, Tony?”
“What do you want to be? Seriously, I’m interested, fuck, you’re brilliant and you can––you just––do you know how few men I’ve gone down on? None of them are this good and this interesting, Loki, please!” He gasped as he felt his lover suddenly pressed flush against his back, hard again with inhuman stamina apparently, and breathing fast and hungry, breath only a little cool now, rolling across the skin where the corner of Tony’s jaw and his neck met.
“I want you to be mine, and I want to taste all of you, Tony Stark.” A lick, a little scrape of fang. “I want to be your god, man of science. You know idols to be false, you know heroes to be dementedly optimistic, and you know that the gods you have met are merely different sorts of women and men. I would have you worship me regardless, because you want what I give to you in return.”
Tony shuddered, his whole body flushed hot as Loki’s hands roamed his skin and teeth pressed into his neck. He gasped a little at the sharp pain of the bite, then went boneless under the feel of being drunk off of. He was used to crazy fans, but this wasn’t it. He was used to insane villains, and there was a bit of that. This... this was how it must feel to meet someone as crazy as his own damn self. He could see the madness and the horror and feel the threat of death a hair’s breadth away...
...and he only wanted more.
“Yes, my god, please take me,” he rasped, and felt the vampire shudder against him, teeth leaving his skin, tongue licking across the wound quick and suddenly hot. “Please, Loki. You’re my god of sex and lunacy and if you think I’m letting you get away with this only happening once you’re fucking-Aah!”
Later, he would wonder where, exactly, the lube had come from.
At present, he was distracted by two long, dexterous fingers pushing into him roughly, curling against his prostate expertly and applying force and friction hard and fast. Tony gave a series of loud, incoherent cries as those fingers pushed him open. It burned, but the stretch and the friction were too good, far too good to stop. In fact, it didn’t hurt as much as perhaps it should, but before the inventor could think about convenient possibly-magic-summoned lubrication with healing properties, there was a third finger involved and he was now gasping and bucking his hips in time with Loki’s ministrations, earning a growl and a warning bite at the nape of his neck: not a bloody one, but a sharply painful one nevertheless. Tony struggled to remain still, with minimal success, and was rewarded by the vampire leaning in closer and turning Tony’s head enough to capture a brief, fervent kiss before pulling back his mouth, and his hand both.
Tony’s abject moan of loss was cut off before the end, becoming a gasp as Loki’s cock pushed into him, slow and inexorable and filling him too full, too deep. Tony squirmed, gasping a bit and almost sobbing as the vampire finally slid in to the hilt, hips pressing hard against his ass. “Fuck, Loki, I’m not––I can’t-”
“Shh.” Loki trailed a series of nipping, open-mouthed kisses down the side of his neck. “Relax.”
Slowly, the inventor did, adjusting to the pressure and beginning to squirm as the ache subsided and he needed more than that. He needed friction. “Please.”
“I’ll not be gentle,” Loki warned.
“My god please yes,” Tony gasped, trying to roll his hips back.
With a rumbling hum of pleasure, the vampire grabbed his hips hard and pulled back slowly, enough that Tony’s body began to twitch and try to close again and the inventor was muttering another breathless plea, before shoving back in hard enough Tony half-screamed. He teased no further, providing deep, hard strokes, slowly increasing his speed as Tony arched and struggled to keep up, to get more of him. Gripping the inventor’s thighs, Loki pulled each leg up and apart, hands supporting them under the back of each knee, holding him open and moving forward to get a better angle. Tony’s back arched with each subsequent thrust and he all but sobbed with it as he came, begging Loki until the vampire followed him over the edge not long after.
This time, Loki did sound winded, but Tony was only half-aware of it. He was still coming down, still a shivering, pliant mess, now almost cradled in a monster’s arms as the vampire pulled out, and slowly brought them to the ground, manacles on Tony’s wrists not releasing, though they did disconnect from the iron bar that previously held them. A chain appeared between them soon after.
Mages, Tony thought with a huff, even as he let himself settle bonelessly in this one’s lap when Loki sat cross-legged on the floor, draping the inventor over himself as he did, his chest still against the mortal’s back.
“So...” Tony said, after a few minutes to remember how words work. “Your ass is mine, you know that, right?”
“I would not have shared my blood with you otherwise.”
The inventor stiffened. “Uh... what?! YOU BASTARD!”
“You’re still human, if you’re wondering.”
“You used an IV?! Seriously?”
“Well, you were in no condition to drink. That dragon almost killed you.”
“I... but...” Tony struggled to come up with appropriate indignation. “Why don’t I remember that?”
“Because you passed out before its teeth pierced your armor.”
“Ah... shit.” He did remember fire and losing his helmet and blacking out.
“Some of the blood I gave you was from perfectly normal human donors, if it helps.”
“I expect a run-down of what I get to expect from being... uh...”
“My thrall?” The suggestion was teasing, clearly unserious.
“We are so not calling it that.”
“That’s... closer to acceptable.”
“You’re welcome, by the way, for saving your life.”
“Why are you warmer now?”
“There are... peculiar temperature issues with my kind. I was not human, to start.”
“I gathered that. So...”
“Jotunn. They’re called Jotunns.”
“Ah... long story?”
“Am I an enemy of Asgard now?”
“And when the hell are you going to turn on the lights?”
A low chuckle.
The lights all flared on.
“... Are you fucking kidding me?”
The vampire began to snigger.
“This is my goddamn workshop. Why is there a coffin full of graveyard dirt in my workshop?”
“I believe you ordered it online during one of the more drunken phases of your hunt for me. It was upended when you were discovered missing, I think. Something to do with one of your robots and a small fire that was started by Miss Potts on accident.”
“Shit, I thought we got rid of the pyrokinetics. Extremis is a stubborn bastard to unmake, by the way.” He snorted. “And you decided not to clean it up, and to keep me in the dark, so I’d think I was in your lair or whatever. You, sir, are a bastard.”
“Well, technically, but I did find and kill my father eventually.”
“Uh... well... Awkward.” Tony fell quiet for a moment, feeling the vampire lick at the now-closed wound on the side of his neck of the last traces of dried blood. “I’m insane. You’re insane. This is insane.”
“Oh yes, but isn’t it marvelous?”
“You know... I think we might be.”
Loki hummed, smugly satisfied at that, and Tony laughed, because damn if he didn’t feel the same way.