The problem with moving all the Avengers into the (former) Stark Tower, is that Tony forgets they're there. Not all the time, usually just after she stumbles out of bed after a late night/early morning round of inventing and drinking.
She heads down to the floor below the one her bedroom sprawls across, where there's a kitchen with the coffee she knows JARVIS has started because she had sense enough to program him to do that when she's too hungover to remember what a coffee maker is, let alone how to make it function in a manner that will quickly convey caffeine to her stomach instead of blowing out the side of the building. Again. So it isn't until she's already chugged down one cup and is working on the second that she even notices that she's not alone. That she's actually very much not alone and all her teammates, barring Thor, are there, standing around the kitchen, staring at her. Well, Steve is staring at the ceiling, but he's the only one.
"Late night, Tony?" Bruce asks with a truly happy smile on his face.
"Ugh," is the only reply she feels up to giving.
She feels like shit, her head pounding, eyes squinting at the too-bright sunlight, teeth fuzzy and stomach starting a slow churn that'll probably send her running for the toilet before long. Anyone smiling like that would normally make her tear them apart verbally just for daring to feel more human than her, but it's Bruce and he's her bro and he doesn't smile enough as it is so she lets it go. Clint, on the other hand....
"Damn, the day is looking up," Clint says with a leer, right before the, "Ow!" yelp that escapes him as Natasha punches his arm.
"Look, Green Arrow wannabe," Tony starts, her voice a rough of whiskey and too little sleep. But the ass-tearing she's planning on giving him is interrupted by Thor striding into the kitchen.
"My friends!" he booms.
Tony winces at the volume; can't the guy ever talk normally?
"Is it not a glorious...." Thor's voice trails off and he comes to a stop, staring at Tony with widening eyes. "Glorious day," he finishes, and somehow it sounds less like a question.
"Yes, Thor," Bruce says. "Yes, it is."
That's when Natasha clears her throat and looks pointedly at Tony's chest.
Tony looks down and -
Looks like she managed to only get halfway out of her clothes before falling asleep. Her shirt and bra, to be precise. Which is fairly normal, and since it's her tower there's never been anything wrong with running around it half naked, except for the part where she's sharing it with a bunch of other people now.
Well, at least they're nice tits. Maybe a little on the small side for her tastes, but the arc reactor would've made bigger ones a pain anyway.
Tony looks up to find Steve - still staring intently at the ceiling, suddenly bare chested and holding out his t-shirt.
She can't help it; she wolf whistles. "That's more like it, Cap! Maybe I should institute a no-shirt policy for mornings."
"Hell yeah! Ow! Damn it, 'Tasha!" Clint is rubbing his arm and glaring now.
Steve is blushing but he throws the shirt at Tony and even without looking his aim is perfect and Tony's chest is covered.
That's when the alarm goes off and Fury's on the intercom yelling for them to get their asses in gear and down to the Garment District where apparently Loki is critiquing fashion's latest via magic and arson. Or something. Honestly Tony only pays attention long enough to get a name and location, then she's chugging down the last of her coffee and running back to the elevator at the same time.
She's into the Iron Man armor and out of the tower in under a minute, communications up - and that involves some creative swearing and complements from Clint on the same until she gets the volume adjusted to a lower level - and target in sight. Well, more like collateral damage in sight, because the beacon of smoke and flames in the distance is all she needs to get a bearing.
"Jesus fuck!" she exclaims when she's hovering over the flaming remains of the de la Renta headquarters. "I thought their Spring line was a crime against good taste, but I settled for a strongly worded letter!"
"Cut the chatter, Stark;" Fury, sounding as cheerful as always. "Loki just melted the giant needle and button over at 39th and Seventh."
"Always thought that was tacky, myself," she says as she heads that way.
And there's Loki, in all his diva drama, cape flaring around him as he flings magic at everything in sight.
"Hey, Sparkles!" Tony yells as she comes to a stop, hovering a few feet in front and above him. "Dungeons and Dragons called, they want their Magic Missile spell back."
That gets her nothing but a snarl and a bolt of glowy magic thrown her way, which she honestly expects, so she just laughs and dodges.
"What's the matter, Princess, Spandex House didn't have enough green for your next costume replacement?"
"I will take you apart slowly, Stark!" Loki says through his teeth, another ball of glowy stuff forming in his hand.
"Nah, don't think so. Have to catch me first!" She rolls to the right - midair somersault, perfect form, the judges go wild! More like the few tourists who haven't gotten out now run away screaming since Loki is distracted, but Tony knows the videos will be up on YouTube later and she'll look so awesome.
"You truly think that metal you wear protects you? That it makes you somehow invincible, little mortal?"
"Oh, come on, short jokes? Thought you had more game than that. I mean, I'm not going for the obvious cow puns, am I, Bessie?" She gestures towards his helmet.
Which seems to enrage Loki further if the sudden clenching of his jaw is any indication. But instead of another retaliatory magic bolt, he raises both hands and does some sort of complicated finger wavy thing that Tony would mock on general principle - except for the part where her armor abruptly begins to unlock itself.
"What the-? Oh shit!" And she shoots down to the ground, barely making it before her boots unlock and then everything just falls right off, piece by piece, hitting the concrete with sharp clangs.
"Son of a bitch." She stares down at her armor in disbelief.
"Wait a minute - you could always do that? No, wait, no you couldn't. You would've done that before now if you could, so you just figured it out. But why would you figure it out?" The voices of the rest of the team are in her ear, babbling over the headset she's still wearing, telling her to shut up and run and they're almost there, but Tony ignores them, still looking at her armor, because she's on to something here.
"You could just blast me to pieces with some of that hand wavy magical shit of yours if you really wanted to. I figured you would, one of these days, when I annoyed you enough, but why bother just stripping me out of it? And why when I'm so close to the ground? You could've lured me up higher, made sure I was a nice puddle of Stark and wasted genius when I hit."
She looks up at him then, and he's staring at her, at-
"Oh for-!" She rolls her eyes. "Don't try to tell me you never ran into battle half naked under your armor, because Thor has a big mouth when he's wasted." Half of Tony's liquor stock and worth every drop.
Loki doesn't reply, doesn't rise to the bait that Thor's name usually is. He just keeps looking at her, the anger gone and replaced with a look that at first is unfamiliar, but only because she isn't looking for it on Loki, of all people. It isn't until a second later when he's pulling off his helmet and striding towards her that she gets it and her eyes widen and common sense - yes, she does have it, thank you very much, she just chooses to ignore it 99.9% of the time - tells her to back up and GTFO.
But it's already too late and he's right in front of her and damn him for being so tall because she's going to have a crick in her neck from looking up at him like this.
"I had different plans," he says, and his voice is lower now, smoother and Tony can't help the little shiver it sends through her. "But you are anything but predictable, Antonia Stark."
"Tony," she says, purely out of habit.
And his hand is sliding around her neck and she tenses at that because last time his hand was there she went through her own window. Except it's sliding around to the back of her neck, tangling into her short hair, getting a grip and pulling her forward and-
Kissing. Oh holy shit! Kissing! They are kissing. Their lips are touching and opening and - tongue! That's Loki's tongue in her mouth and god damn does he know how to use it.
Tony can't help the moan she lets out, the way his answering moan makes her knees go weak. She's pressed up against him now and the chill of his armor is making her bare nipples hard; she shivers against him.
Voices in her ear again, raising in pitch, shouting - Tony reaches up, yanks the earpiece out and tosses it away. Loki's other hand is sliding down her back, pressing her even closer, and he's tilting her head, getting a better angle and nothing else really seems all that important. Her eyes flutter shut.
She can't find a good place to put her own hands, too much leather and metal. Settles for raising up on her toes and gripping his slicked back hair, longer than hers, a better hand hold.
Tongues and lips and saliva slicking her chin and it's turning into such a dirty kiss, hungry and hard and she knows she's making all sorts of little noises into his mouth, doesn't care.
She's vaguely aware of the world tilting, wraps a leg around the back of his to keep her balance, then feels hard concrete against her back and thinks that Loki's a genius. Even more so when his hand slides around from her back, fingers hook into the waistband of her jeans, tug once, and suddenly cool spring air is hitting her bare legs.
Magic rocks. She'll never say anything bad against it again.
Not when his hand is ghosting over her bare thigh, just enough pressure to brush against the fine hairs there, send another shiver through her. He keeps kissing her, never lets go of her lips, tongue stroking deep, but his hand roams. Her side, arm, stomach, fingers brushing up the arch of her neck, every touch so light in comparison to the hard press of his mouth, the tight grip on her hair. He never touches her breasts, never moves between her thighs - and it's not like she doesn't have her legs spread now, isn't begging with her body for him to go there.
Instead he just seems to explore, tracing old scars, lingering over fresher wounds - fighting and working in the lab both leave their marks. Every touch gentle, a caress, long, clever fingers skimming over her body.
Tony's fucked before, been fucked, screwed, nailed, gotten laid, but she's never felt this, this soft, careful exploration. She's trembling constantly now, every breath a whimper or moan, hands tight on his neck, ragged nails digging in. He groans in response, kisses her harder, but his touches never grow any more purposeful, never any firmer.
When Loki finally pulls back, bracing himself up on an elbow, his hand doesn't still, trailing across her lower ribs, just under the rise of her breasts. Tony looks up at him, speechless for once, taking in the flush across his cheeks, the way his lips are swollen and shining.
"Don't stop." It's begging and fuck if she cares. She wants so much more.
"You would have me now, here, would you not?" Loki's voice is rough and his smile isn't the harsh smirk she's used to seeing.
"Yeah. Let's go," she says, trying to tug him back down. It's like trying to move solid rock.
"You tempt me, Antonia." He leans down but not close enough. "I should like to spread you open for my tongue. Learn your taste and hear the sounds you make as I lick my way inside you."
Tony makes a high, breathy noise, shuddering at the visual that gives her. Her eyes are wide as she stares up at him.
He's breathing as hard as she is, sucking in air through his slightly open mouth, viridian eyes blown wide with arousal. But his voice is still steady, damn him.
"I think," he says softly, "that were I to this moment open my trousers and slide between your thighs, I'd find you drenched and eager for my cock."
The noise Tony makes then is...well, if she had any real capacity for shame, she would blush. As it is, she just raises one knee and lets it fall to the side, giving him easier access if he'd just take it. Take her.
"You would be so deliciously hot, wouldn't you?" His hand is still moving, sliding down her stomach, across the top of one thigh. "So slick and tight around me." He leans closer, just barely letting their lips brush. “I am not a small man, Antonia, thicker, I think, than you’ve had. You would stretch so exquisitely around me, perhaps even struggle to take me in. I might have to work for the last couple inches. You would keen with it, the burn as I thrust into you.
"Tell me, Antonia, have you ever allowed a man to take you without a condom? Because I will not tolerate such primitive devices. Magic is far more effective. When I have you - and I will have you - it will be skin against skin. My cock pushing into you inch by bare inch. I'll ride you to exhaustion, until you're shaking with it, until all you can do is lie beneath me and tremble as I thrust into you again and again and again, feeling you clench around me. Until I push as deep as I can go and come inside you where no man ever has. Until my seed is dripping out of you. Then, then when I'm satisfied, I'll bury my face between your legs and lick away the taste of us both. I'll share that with you, I think, in a kiss."
He brushes his lips across hers, just once, just briefly, and just as he slides his hand up and brushes one finger, ever so lightly, against her nipple.
She would scream; the way her body tenses up and breaks apart, how suddenly it crashes over her, rocking her up against him. But it clenches her teeth and the only sound she can make is a high-pitched whine, her hands clenching in his hair spasmodically, her whole body shaking under him. Endless spasms rolling through her, jerking her, pressing her body against his.
"Oh my god!" she finally gasps out when it’s mostly subsided. "Oh my god, ohmygod! Did you just-holy shit, you totally did!" She's panting, little shocks rolling through her. "You talked me into orgasm! That's--" She doesn't bother with words anymore, pulls herself up via his hair and slams their mouths together.
"You need to fuck me, right the fuck now," she orders a moment later, then kisses him again.
"Mmm, I think not." And he's pulling away.
Tony tries to hold onto him but he takes her wrists - gently, but no give to his grip - and pulls from her grasp. He's kneeling over her, straddling her hips as his gaze roams appreciatively over her.
"Don't mistake my intentions, Antonia; I will have you. But now is not, I believe, the best time. Until later." Then Loki actually kisses the back of her hands, first the right, then the left. She's naked underneath him and she bets he's hard enough to cut glass, and he's kissing her fucking hands.
And then he's gone. Poof. Greenish light holding his vacant outline before dissipating.
"You bastard," Tony says with no heat.
She just lies there, sprawled out on the ground, feeling the alternating cool breeze and heat from the burning buildings. She should probably get up, see if the armor's still usable, but frankly she just came, just had the best sex ever without actual fucking involved, and she just wants to bask in it, just a little. If she closes her eyes, she thinks she can feel the ghost of his touches lingering on her skin.
When something is draped over her a few minutes later, she opens her eyes to see pretty much everyone standing over her and it's Thor's cape that's covering her. Thor himself is looking down at her with a slightly bemused expression.
"I thought it best that you and my brother were left alone for your...discussion," he says, clearing his throat uncomfortably. Which explains the lack of people running in and trying to "rescue" Tony.
"I think I've figured something out," Tony announces, flicking her gaze from one face to another. Various looks ranging from disbelief - Steve - to glee - Clint - to resignation - Nat - and flat amusement - Bruce, who is very much not green and not in ripped clothes, interesting.
"Loki was never trying to kill me," she says. "Aside from that one time with the invasion and the window, but I kind of think he expected me to survive it."
She tucks a hand behind her head, cushioning it from the hard concrete. Bites her kiss-swollen lip thoughtfully.
"I think...you know, I think he's actually spent time developing that spell." Waves her free hand at her scattered armor. "Must've taken a while. He put a lot of work into that. Thoughtful. Impressive, too. I'm getting this right, yeah?" She raises an eyebrow up at Thor, but it's not him that replies.
"Are you kidding me?" Clint says in disgust. "You think that crazy asshole's been, what, flirting with you?"
"Maybe not flirting, no, more like, I dunno, courting?" She directs it at Thor again, and this time he gives a slow nod.
"That would indeed seem to be the case. As you say, Loki could easily kill you, Tony, the fact that he has not, and his...actions here today.... It would seem that my brother is interested in you."
"Oh. Great. This'll be fun," Bruce deadpans.
"Oh, shut up and get me a cigarette." Tony waves him off.
"You don't smoke."
"No, I don't. But after that? The way I feel?" She stretches, making an obscene little moan. "I think maybe I should start. I can do that, right? They haven't outlawed it yet?"
"You're not smoking." It's an order from Natasha, who reaches down and holds out her hand.
Taking it, Tony stands without keeping hold of Thor's cape.
Why bother? Even with the District burning down around them, no doubt someone stayed long enough to get all the fun bits on video. Besides, this will hardly be the first time Tony has her naked body plastered on the net, or even video of her fucking, she'll just make sure to download the best quality shots later.
"I gotta see if any of this is still usable," she says, bending down to grab hold of a gauntlet. The fact that it gives Steve one hell of a show is actually unintentional, but the half-choked, half-strangled noise he makes is totally worth it.
Fortunately Loki's spell didn't do any harm to the armor. The manual locks are in perfect working order and within a few minutes Tony is suited up and headed back to the Tower. She's never actually been entirely naked in the suit before but her jeans seem to have ceased to exist, so far as she can tell, and the metal is only a little cold.
It's some time later in the day, nearer to evening and long after Fury drags her down to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters for debriefing - apparently her insistence that she's already been debriefed once today and Loki was very thorough isn't enough to get her out of it - that JARVIS puts through an odd phone call.
"Tony Stark," she answers distractedly. She's working on upgrades to the suit's locking mechanisms. Magic doesn't seem as adaptable as technology and she's willing to bet that even a minor change will render Loki's spell useless. It'll be a blatant challenge for him to find another way of stripping her. Hopefully he'll take her up on it soon.
"Um, Miss Stark?" It's not a voice she recognizes. Male, young, shaky.
"Business hours are from whenever I feel like getting up to noon. Unless I sleep through noon. Then they're never. Call back and talk to my PA."
"Wait! Please, Miss Stark!"
There's high-voiced panic now and Tony sets down her welder, shoving her goggles up with a frown.
"Yeah, okay, I'm listening. What’s the what?"
“Um, well, I’m only an intern but I was the one who saw the videos of you and-and Loki on the net this afternoon so they thought I should be the one to-”
“You wanna get to the point here, Squeaky? ‘Cause if this is just about an interview-”
“No! Oh god, please don’t hang up; I’ll get fired!”
“Then let’s move it along here. I’m a busy woman.”
“Of course, Miss Stark. Thank you, Miss Stark.”
She rolls her eyes.
“See, the thing is, the phone number we have now is no good and we thought, since you seemed to, well, know Loki-er, Mr. Laufeyjarson, that maybe you could contact him for us.”
“What? Who’s us?”
“Oh! Right. I’m sorry. I’m calling from Spandex House, Inc. and if you could tell him that we’ve reordered the green and this time we promise it’ll be the right hue.”
When Natasha breaks into her lab a few minutes later, for once Tony’s not sitting on the floor because she’s falling down drunk, she just can’t manage to stay upright because her knees are buckling from the laughter.