(MCU) Going Down, Going Under

[salmon_pink]

Title: Going Down, Going Under
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Pairing: Loki/Tony
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2618
Notes: BDSM. Collars. Deep throating. Dirty talk. Exhibitionism. Masturbation. Roughplay. Spanking. Voyeurism. For avengers_tables, prompt "dreams", and fic_promptly, prompt "Loki/Tony Stark, dream sex".
Summary: It's sex magic. Or it's Tony's subconscious. Either way, it's messy and weird and kind of amazing.



It starts the same as any other of the countless nightmares Tony’s had about that day. He’s in New York, staring down a God, bullshitting his way through buying the other Avengers some time. Confident on the outside, a ball of writhing knots beneath his skin, but bravado’s all he’s got, so he’s clinging to it like a security blanket.

Loki stalks closer, smirking. Tony’s got this theory that Loki’s in the same boat as him, that his haughty sneer hides the panic and frustration inside. So Tony’s picking at Loki’s edges like a scab, doing everything he can to get Loki riled, to keep him occupied.

It’s working, right up until Loki loses patience, and then his hand is around Tony’s throat.

It’s the same dream as always, the threat and the fear clogging Tony’s airways like smog.

It’s the same dream, right up until it isn’t.

Because this time Loki doesn’t throw Tony back through the window, into the paralysing terror of freefall.

This time Loki growls and yanks Tony close, and the kiss is like a slap to the face.

Tony wakes up gasping.

*

He doesn’t let it bother him. That whole day was fraught with so much emotion, it’s no great surprise that his subconscious might get it all muddled up with a different kind of emotion. Tony’s fuck-or-flee response has always been a little messed up.

It was one dream, one kiss, no big deal.

But then it turns into two dreams.

The next goes the same, Loki swaggering, snarling, and then deviating from Tony’s memories into pure fiction.

He kisses Tony, and this time Tony doesn’t wake up. Not straight away, not until Loki’s hand has slipped around to tighten against the back of his neck, not until he’s dragged Tony in with a hand on his ass. Tony’s on tiptoes, and Loki’s hauling him around like a ragdoll, making him tilt his head back with the strength of his mouth moving across Tony’s jaw.

This time he doesn’t just wake up gasping, Tony wakes up hard.

This could be a problem.

*

The next dream goes further. Loki pushes him back against the bar, broken glass crunching under his boots as he moves. The seams on Tony’s t-shirt pop and tear, and his dream-self is apparently done with being passive, because he’s wrapping his legs around Loki’s waist like a three-dollar whore. Trying to grind up on him, but Loki’s weight holds him pinned against the counter top.

He holds Tony like that, trapped and fucking aching for it, and kisses him thoroughly, until Tony’s squirming and desperate for some real friction.

But he can’t get it, Loki’s too strong. It’s all Loki’s show, he’s in charge, and Tony’s always hated being out of control, but he wakes up humping the mattress like a teenager, and comes with his face buried in the pillow to muffle his groan.

*

The next time, Loki doesn’t just hold him against the bar, he spills Tony back across the counter. Knocking ridiculously expensive bottles of scotch aside, hand on Tony’s throat again as he rips Tony’s jeans down his legs, but that’s good, that gives Tony something to push up against. Feeling Loki’s thumb press down over his pulse point, and Tony’s been so preoccupied with how it felt to have Loki kiss him in each of the dreams that he’s not really registered the expression on Loki’s face.

But now Loki’s staring down at him, and he’s grinning, sharp and predatory.

That smile makes Tony shiver harder than the sensation of Loki cupping his balls.

Loki ducks down, mouth opening around Tony’s cock, hot and wet and so painfully good, and Tony shouts loud enough to jolt himself awake.

He barely gets a hand wrapped around himself before he’s coming all over his fist.

*

He’s waiting for Loki to push him on to his back across the bar the next time he falls into the dream, but he doesn’t get it. Instead he gets Loki’s hand in his hair, and he’s spread over the bar but this time it’s on his stomach.

He’s half hanging off the counter, one hand braced against the drink shelf lower down, the rim of the bar pressing into his ribs. He can’t catch himself like this, but Loki holds him steady with ease.

Tony feels his legs being pushed apart, and he barely has time to gasp in a harsh breath before Loki’s tongue is sweeping up the cleft of his ass.

He bites his lip to keep from yelling, determined he’s not gonna wake up anytime soon.

But Loki’s tongue is pushing further, pushing inside, opening him up, and Tony’s sweating, writhing across the bar, the surface squeaking under his damp palms. Making fucked-up noises as he tries to push back against Loki’s face, feet kicking out against thin air.

He feels Loki chuckle against him, feels the vibration of it, hears the dirty low sound of it echoing through his head, and he wakes up twisted in the sheets.

He pushes a thumb into his own ass, dry and not nearly thick enough, and lets images of Loki’s mouth burn across the back of his eyelids when he comes.

*

In the next dream, Loki doesn’t lift him up at all. Instead he pushes Tony to his knees, and there should probably be shards of glass all over the floor because the room is still just as trashed as Tony remembers, but the debris is all gone. The convenience of dreams, all those little details get pushed aside, and then the only thing being pushed aside is Loki’s robes.

He draws his cock out of his trousers, thick and flushed, and Tony opens his mouth like he’s starved for it.

It’s been too long since he’s done this with another guy, but his subconscious apparently remembers it all too well, because the feel of it is so familiar, so vivid. Heavy on his tongue, and Loki holds his hair, rocks deeper, cutting off Tony’s hungry noises with every thrust of his hips.

Tony’s shuffling closer on his knees, trying for more, and Loki smirks down at him and gives him just what he wants. Pushing into the tight space of Tony’s throat as he swallows and gulps and relaxes as best he can, and it’s like everything else falls away but the ringing in his ears.

“You look good like this, Stark,” Loki murmurs, and Tony realises that Loki hasn’t spoken to him during these dreams, not beyond the words Tony remembers from their actual confrontation. Definitely no dirty talk.

It’s that thought that yanks him back to reality, and Tony stares at the ceiling, painfully hard, his throat feeling raw and empty.

*

Maybe it’s a spell. Magic isn’t really Tony’s forte, but it definitely seems like a thing that might be possible.

He can’t exactly ask Thor, “Hey, is there any chance your brother could be visiting me in my dreams to get freaky?”

He very strongly considers asking all the same, but the big guy tends to look miserable and conflicted when people talk about Loki trying to conquer Earth, and Tony isn’t sure he wants to see Thor looking like a kicked puppy if he brings up Loki possibly using sex magic on Thor’s team-mates.

Not that he knows for sure that it’s sex magic. It’s just a theory, but it’s one he’s clinging to, because it kind of takes the blame off his subconscious.

*

The next time, he and Loki are on a couch, which is an improvement on the bar, because there are cushions for his knees to sink into instead of the harshness of a solid surface. Tony’s hands are splayed in front of him, and Loki’s fucking into him with his fingers. Hard and fast enough that Tony feels breathless, head spinning, and when his weight tips forward and he catches himself with his elbows and his face, he doesn’t even bother to try pushing back up to his hands.

His ass feels both numb and overly sensitive, and his cock is leaking, slapping up against his stomach with every particularly vicious thrust of Loki’s arm.

“I’m not waking up until you fuck me,” Tony hisses, voice hitching.

“Whatever you say, Stark,” Loki says with a mean little laugh.

Tony wakes up, on his elbows and knees in his bed, ass raised and cock throbbing.

*

The leather and gold are snug around his throat, warmer than his skin. Loki smiles at him, holding Tony’s chin pinched between his fingers.

“It suits you,” he purrs, eyes bright and hungry, and he spins Tony roughly, until he can see his reflection in the unbroken window.

The collar looks obvious against his skin, a clear sign of ownership. Tony’s never been down with the idea of anyone owning him, but there’s no denying the way his cock pulses for the sight.

“How many people can see you right now?” Loki whispers against his ear, holding Tony’s back flush against his chest. He jerks Tony off with short and brutally quick movements, while Tony stares out over the New York skyline. “How many office workers are looking out of their windows and watching you submit to me?”

“I’m not waking up, you bastard,” Tony snaps. “Not this time.”

“That isn’t how this works, Stark,” Loki grins at his reflection, and Tony bolts upright in bed, a hand around his own throat.

He leaves it there as he jerks off, squeezing just a little because it makes things better.

*

“You seemed to enjoy having an audience last time,” Loki says, holding Tony by the hair so he can’t turn away. “I thought I’d invite some friends.”

The Avengers all stare back at him, wide eyed and with flushed faces. Tony whines as Loki bends him over the back of the couch, long fingers buried deep within his ass. Keeping Tony’s head turned so he has to watch the others watch him, so he can see the way their eyes darken, the way they go from embarrassed to looking at him like he’s a toy to be played with.

“They’d enjoy having you like this, wouldn’t they?” Loki murmurs, lips dragging against the back of Tony’s collar. “But it’s me you’re here with, night after night.”

Tony wakes up shaking, rolling over so he fuck into the tight ring of his fist, ass flexing with every thrust of his hips.

*

Nobody looks at him differently the following day. Tony gets right in Steve’s face, makes every inappropriate comment he can think of, but Steve just rolls his eyes like normal instead of looking guiltily flustered. He flat out asks Bruce if he’d had any interesting dreams lately, but Bruce just looks at him in polite confusion.

Nobody’s avoiding his eye, or blushing and making excuses to leave the room, so he figures whatever sex magic is going on, the guest stars in last night’s dream were just figments of his imagination, not the others getting pulled into Loki’s scheme.

Because it has to be a scheme. Tony’s mind can’t really be doing this to him night after night.

“So, about your brother,” he blurts out the next time he sees Thor, and then has to watch the way pain instantly clouds Thor’s eyes.

“Yes?” Thor replies simply, clearly being careful to keep his voice neutral, as if he’s expecting an attack and bracing himself for it.

“Never mind,” Tony sighs. He pats Thor awkwardly on the arm, and moves on.

*

Loki’s hand slaps down across his ass, and Tony’s expecting the blow to wake him up, but it doesn’t. He can feel his ass clenching down on the next smack, as if he wants to be stretched and filled.

“Are you real?” he moans, fidgeting over Loki’s lap.

“Do you care?” Loki shoots back, and spanks him again.

Tony wakes up feeling like there are bruises across his ass, burning faintly as he drags his fingernails over the skin.

*

Maybe it’s sex magic. Maybe it’s not. And if it’s not, then it’s mind over matter. He’s in control, it’s his dream.

“Here’s how this is gonna go, princess,” Tony drawls, arms crossed.

Loki stares back at him with a raised eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

“No more waking up alone and jerking off. Either you make me come, or you get out of my head.”

Loki’s smile is slow and condescending. “You think you have the power to banish me?”

“Nope, probably not,” Tony admits. “But I will go to your brother about this. And to Banner, and every other Avenger if I have to.”

Loki shakes his head slowly, still grinning. “You’d admit to them what you let me do to you?”

“Let’s be honest, they wouldn’t be surprised,” Tony snorts. “They’ve seen me do worse.”

Loki begins to look a little more serious.

“I’ll get every magical expert we can find in on this,” Tony continues, on a roll. “And do every scan of my mind known to man. I’ll find a way to stop myself dreaming. Whether it’s really you, or it’s all me, I’ll close the door.”

Loki takes a step closer, and it reminds Tony so sharply of that day in New York that he feels himself flinch. Loki’s eyes narrow, his smile returning.

“But if I allow you release in the dream, you plan to continue? Even though you know this to be wrong?”

Tony shrugs. “Right or wrong, whatever, the only thing getting hurt is my sheets.”

Loki’s hand reaches for Tony’s throat, and it’s amazing how right it already feels, having it there, warmth bleeding through the collar he wears in every dream now. “As you wish,” he whispers.

Loki spreads Tony across the couch, taking his time to finger Tony open, making him whimper and beg and shake, but Tony doesn’t wake up. Even when Loki finally drives inside of him, cock so much more than his fingers, until Tony’s eyes are rolling and Loki’s hips are pressed against his ass, he still doesn’t wake up.

Loki fucks him so hard Tony sees stars, a burn in his hips from how wide his thighs are spread, skin slick with sweat. He wants to crow in triumph, to see if he can goad Loki to go faster, rougher, but it feels like Loki’s fucked his voice right out of him. Whenever he tries to speak, all he can manage is a needy whine, and when he reaches for his cock Loki grabs at his wrists, holds them pinned against his chest.

He wraps his hand around Tony’s cock, and it barely takes more than a few strokes before everything’s whiting out, cold and hot at the same time as he comes, the wet feeling of Loki filling him making Tony clench down and arch his back, heels drumming against Loki’s spine.

Tony doesn’t wake until morning, feeling rested and sated and content. There’s a trail of dried come across his stomach and stretching all the way up to his neck.

*

“Well, time for bed,” Tony announces with an over-exaggerated yawn.

“Turning in already, Stark?” Natasha asks, looking suspicious. “It’s not even eleven.”

“Early to bed, early to rise.” Tony gives her his most infuriating grin, and she rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to Clint.

He’s almost out of the room when Thor shoots him a friendly smile and says, “Pleasant dreams.”

Tony somehow manages not to trip over his own feet, and he already knows that the first thing Loki will do when he slips into the dream tonight will be to laugh himself sick.