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Snowflake	By : LordStrawberry Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 3323 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel, the Avengers, Thor nor any other Marvel Universe fandoms or characters. I do not gain profit from this..

Chapter List
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Natasha had run, then. Clever girl. Tony supposed she had taken Cap with her. He was on his own now. Just what he had wanted, alone with Loki.

Only now there was a corpse in the room and it was wearing Clint's face. There were no easy smiles and light-hearted jokes anymore, just dead flesh. A body. And the eyes looked at him.

Tony did not have time to turn, it came too suddenly and he threw up all over himself. Luckily he hadn't eaten in quite some time, his mind remarked and he wondered, how it was even possible to think about that sort of thing now. Then a violent shiver took him and as it went and left, so did the vomit and he was sparkly clean again.

That was when he freaked, finally.

His feet found the floor and then he was standing, however wobbly, and as he was standing he moved and before he could process his own actions his fists were thrown towards Loki's armored body and it hurt. He felt bones crack and soon his punches were leaving bloody smears on the polished gold as they hit.

Loki did not even try to deflect, so Tony went for his face instead. That was when a hand caught his wrist and held it in a vise-like grip.

That was also when the murderous glint in those pale eyes sparked once again and he had trouble reminding himself of just how the hell he had found such sheer beauty in the feral look, this pure mesmerizing mania that had once instilled such a deep fascination in him. How blind had he been.

"Do not strike me again, or I swear, I will end you."

Part of him just wanted to scream 'yes' and be done with it, but reason still held some control over his actions and he stilled in the god's grasp.

"Why?", his own voice sounded foreign to him, whiny and weak, so broken and sad. That was not him, that could not be Tony Stark's voice.

Loki smiled and again the teeth he flashed were an unspoken promise. Tony believed deeply that if Loki wanted to, he could rip him apart with his teeth alone. A chilling thought. Bloody images flooded his mind and he wondered, just for a second, what it would be like to be consumed by a mad god.

"Do not ask such questions, you know better."

"Why make me feel for you, why not just-.. what for? For building the harness? Is that all? Is that the only use you had for me?"

"Yes, and sadly, you were probably the only person currently inhabiting this planet that could do it. Besides, you were fun."

He felt tears forming and willed them back with all he had. He would not let Loki see him cry. Never.

"Well then kill me now and get it over with."

Spite lay heavy in his voice. 'I dare you'.

The god simply laughed and his other hand shot up to grip Tony by his chin and pull him closer, until thir faces were almost touching.

Tony could feel the other's breath on his cheek as it left Loki's mouth in violent pants. By now he was unable to tell if the god was furious or simply enjoying himself.

"Are you not going to beg?", a sweet smile was only betrayed by eyes that screamed maddened frenzy.

"What should I beg for? My life? Your love? Mercy?"

He was answered in another fit of maniacal giggles before Loki collected himself and calmly continued his little game.

"Oh, please tell me you are going to appeal to my humanity."

Ice and poison shot through Tony's veins as these words hit him with all their might. Silvertongue, so this is your true power.

The man wanted to play, let him play. He would not give him what he craved, never. You won't break me.

"How about this, then: Please, love me, Loki. I can't be without you, I can't sleep without your arms around me. You complete me, I need you. I care for you, deeply. I love you."

His tone was mocking, but the tears that had fallen now betrayed him bitterly and as he felt the wetness on his own cheeks a sob could not be held back anymore and he struggled, fought, as if to deny the sorrow he had just unwillingly admitted to. Stop hurting, oh god, please stop hurting.

He expected to hear a laugh, readied his mind for the torment of yet another jarring taunt, but it did not come.

The grip was softened and then released, only to be replaced by two arms around him. He was held close and for split seconds all he wanted to do was cry into the shoulder that offered itself to him.

Loki had his face buried in his hair, Tony could feel the soft and slowly steadying breath as it brushed against his ear.

This can't be happening.

It took all he had to draw up the walls, get in his metaphorical suit and shut his heart down, which had become warm and soft under the gentle touch, that shouldn't be, mustn't be-

Then he pushed and was let go. Loki looked at him with mock hurt. Or was it genuine? Tony had to admit he could not tell one from the other at this moment.

"You monster, stay the fuck away from me."

His voice was shaken, but the words held enough strength to pull him up. Corpse with Clint's face.

The corners of Loki's mouth were pulled up in a gruesome mockerey of a smile.

"Man of Iron wants to play."

"I'm not afraid of you.", yeah, that'll show him, "Thor is out there. Him and Cap, Widow, S.H.I.E.L.D, they'll destroy you."

A dangerous chuckle escaped the grinning lips of the liesmith himself, poison and ice, as he conjured his staff out of thin air.

"How will your friends have time for me, when they're so busy fighting you."

The tip of his staff hit the arc reactor and for a split second Tony's heart stopped, figuratively speaking. The all-consuming mind-possession did not come, nothing happened, in fact.

Loki should know this, Tony thought. How much time have they spent discussing magic and human technology, energies, interferences.

A second try failed just the same and Loki frowned in irritation.

Glad, that he was not going to end up as Loki's new flying monkey, he still couldn't help but wonder what the alternative might be.

Anger was darkening the crazed eyes of the mad god and before he could think of his options, Loki had him by his throat and hoisted him up in the air, his feet dangling helplessly.

One instant later he found himself thrown onto the luxurious leather couch up in the lounge, the last flickers of magic dissolved around them and then Loki was on top of him.

He was heavy in all the mail and leather of his armor and Tony was struggling to breathe as he tried in vain to fight the man off.

His shirt was ripped off of him with one lazy gesture. It had been the altered Deep Purple one, and it hurt, as the tatters hit the marble floor to his right.

Tony knew he had bigger problems, as his pants were taken from him in just the same fashion as the shirt had, torn to shreds by brute strength.

Then he was naked, all soft pink skin, flushed with adrenaline and so very, very vulnerable.

It hurt as Loki slumped back on top of him, harsh edges of metal cutting into his flesh and the leather was hard and ice-cold, as Loki pressed harder into him, let him feel his helplessness with an insistent leather-clad thigh to his groin.

Loki laughed as he felt him shiver and buckle. That was when panic kicked in.

He struggled harder, pushed and clawed at the god's armor with his already battered hands and the more frantic his movements got, the faster his desperate pants became. He was swallowing loads of air by now, but he couldn't care less. He was trapped, helpless, and he couldn't-

That was when Loki backed off, slightly. Propped up on his forearms he made a point of catching Tony's gaze, his own a mockery of what might otherwise be considered 'loving', as he brough a cold hand up to his Tony's wet, heated cheek and let his thumb catch some of the tears right under a wide eye that shone bright with fear.

He chuckled again, a low rumble in his chest, that god-awful smile still plastered to his lips.

Then the hand sneaked up into Tony's hair, held his head in a tight grip as lips lowered themselves down onto his in a slow, gentle kiss.

Moving his head was not an option, so he did the only thing he could and kept his lips pressed shut. It didn't do much good, the feeling was there, deep in his stomach next to all the dread he felt, there was Loki's kiss and he was so close to giving in when the other pulled away and licked his lips in an almost obscene gesture.

With one last press of soft lips on his flushed cheek he was gripped by the shoulder and turned around. Realisation hit then. Loki was really going to do this.

Tony tried to jump away, but he was too late. The heavy body was already on top of him, all harsh edges and raw material, and an erection pressed against his unprotected ass.

He wanted to struggle, but he realized it would probably just turn Loki on to have his superiority confirmed by his own useless attempt of resistance. He would not struggle, he told himself. He would not move, not make a sound, not cry. He would not give him that satisfaction.

Loki pushed inside him without preparation, but at least he was slick with magic. It did not keep Tony from biting back the howl of pain that had threatened to escape him. He had brought his arms up and slung around his head. To control, to protect himself. Whatever it was.

Loki did not wait and Tony bit his wrist as he was driven deep into the cushioning. The man on top went in all the way, the harsh leather and metalplating pressed hard into Tony's bare ass and he couldn't help but shiver. Next to his ear the god's panting had turned into hoarse moans of pleasure. Sounds of which he knew would have driven him over the edge, usually. Not this time. He felt nauseous. Would Loki stop if he threw up? Something told him he wouldn't.

The irregular stabs sent bolts of pain through his body. Over and over in an antagonizing rhythm he just couldn't figure out.

Then the panting by his ear drew back and his ass was pulled up with ease. Somehow he found his knees sliding in to hold his own weight and there he was, face still pressed into the couch, his ass up high and fucked doggy-style by the man he had trusted, until a couple of hours ago.

Hours, had that little time passed? He willed his thoughts away from the man on top of him, away from Stark Tower altogether. Most importantly: Away from the thick cock that prodded into him relentlessly and away from the little sparks of pleasure he now felt whenever it hit that spot.

Loki's moans were louder and louder, laden with lust and raw desire and it was then, that he felt little whimpers make it past his lips. He wanted to throw up by now, but he couldn't. He even tried to gag, nothing. The sickness that was pumped into his body made him squirm, that awful brush of Loki's cock against all the right places inside of him had him falling apart. Suddenly the grip on his hips turned him on, the helplessness of it all made him shudder in excitement. "No... please, stop, please!" Loki laughed, an eerie sound mingled with the pleasured noises he made in between.

Whimpers had turned into moans in Tony's mouth. Traitor. He struggled harder now, he couldn't allow this, but all it got him was a hand fisted in his hair, ripping his head back, and with a magical shimmer Clint was there, sitting right in the armchair next to them, less than two meters away.

No, Tony corrected. His corpse was there.

He tried to avert his gaze, but Loki had him in a death-grip. He tried to shut his eyes, but couldn't. Only when he began to tear up he was allowed a blink, and then they were ripped open again, his glance forced onto the twisted neck of his friend, the ashen face, so lacking in the life that had made it Clint's and Loki picked up the speed, drove him forward. He would have tumbled off the couch, hadn't Loki held him so tightly. Harder, harder, harder, faster. He felt more and more sounds of pleasure being ripped from his lips against his will. His orgasm had begun to build, soon, he would-

He couldn't allow that.

"No, please.", he begged again, his voice small and needy. It sounded as if he was begging for the opposite.

Loki came with a feral roar and as he slammed into the soft body beneath him some powerful last times, so did Tony with a strangled cry and Clint Barton's dead gaze un-seeing every second of it.

That corpse with Clint's face.

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.

.

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I have to admit, I feel slightly nauseous myself.

I'm all for gore and blood, but... well... that was tough. Poor guy.

Thanks a lot for the reviews again, it means a lot to me!
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Snowflake