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Tony is angry, the day he comes back to his toxic woodland creature and finds him half suffocated on his own red robes; slender throat bruised and swollen, twisted into the coils of a makeshift red rope.

'If you find me so defiling, so be it,' he annouces, angered that the god would rather self-destruct than submit to Tony's touch.

At this announcement Loki's red hot anger turns abruptly to desperation, to a fear so naked and intense that even Tony is nonplussed, until he realises what it means, and then his greed increases a thousand fold.

'You've never been taken before,' he murmurs. 'Oh, Loki, Loki how I shall feast on you.'

'Don't you dare- you filthy, stupid mortal, you are dust beneath my feet; no one like you shall touch a god, no, noooo NO-' and Loki is screaming, fighting and struggling with a vigor he hadn't showed in weeks. He scratches his fingernails into Tony's face, attempts to gouge his eyes but Tony is somehow stronger, more confident. He grapples almost triumphantly with the god, who seems to weaken visibly in the face of Tony's cold competence.

Loki struggles with him, almost for hours, even onto the ripping of clothing and up to Tony shoving him face against glass, pinning his arms above them though brutal strength alone, and laughing as he avoided the god's attempts to strike him with his head.

Again and again, Loki attempts to raise the shield of his cracked pride, and again and again Tony brings them crashing down.

Finally the god bellows; 'Why are you doing this? Will nothing stay your hand?'

The human considers him. 'Beg me.'

Loki's features took on a blank and vacant look, before suddenly raising his head to spit in the mortal's face. Tony wipes it off with painstaking slowness, then punches him once, brutally on the mouth.

'Loki, Loki, Loki,' he admonishes as the copy of the god of mischief wheezes and gasps, choking on a bloodied mouth. 'I will take you in pain or in pleasure. Pleasure's always better.'

The god laughs as he dribbles blood and spit through his lips, hateful and derisive. He has not spoken in days; but now he babbles as Tony removes the torn remnants of his garbs. His descriptions of what he will do to are filthy and cruel, visions of torture and eternal pain; worse than any Tony has ever endured –

Then just as abruptly both speech and fight goes out of Loki, as soon as Tony lubricates a his cock on blood and breaches the tightly puckered ring of muscles with his fingers.

'There. That's it. That's what you're giving me.'

There is a cresting point he can feel in the musculature of the god's body that finally go slack beneath him, a tipping point for Loki once his body has been breached that relinquishes Loki's power and strength. Defeat, and the soundless surrender of it is sweeter than anything Tony has ever experienced.

He becomes almost pliant as Tony rolls him over and thrusts his hips between the god's longer legs. Tony aligned their bodies together, the better to see every expression that crosses the god's face.

Loki gasps at the first breach of Tony's leaking cock, but bites his own wrist rather than cry out.

'You are magnificent in my dreams,' Tony pants, driving himself into the god, taking it all. And it feels so good, it feels perfect, even Loki's unwillingness was perfect, a counterpoint to the yielding, supple flesh of the god in his dreams.

'I will kill you,' Loki promises though clenched teeth, 'I am but one copy, and there will be many.'

'It's a small price to pay compared to how good you feel.'

'Death is too good for you.'

'You won't die from this either,' Tony callojes, and twists his hips against a particularly brutal thrust that almost lifts Loki off the floor with a scream. He exults in Loki's subsequent silence and submissiveness. The god's viciousness are like that of an angry snake; easy to contain, once you figured how snakes had to be caught. How they were to be tamed.

'Yes, take it all back to your master,' he croons, riding each thrust through its crest before plunging in anew. 'Feel everything, yes. Feel me. Tony Stark, filthy mortal going deep inside you. Touching you in places nobody else has ever touched, and you can feel it all from there, can't you? Shhhhhh, you can look away but you feel everything I'm doing to you. You can't escape me.'

'Yes. Yes. You're perfect like this, perfect to me,' He hisses with satisfaction when Loki's mouth forms an exquisite round hole, red, wet lips vibrating with agony.

'You are as clay to me, and I intend to remake you.'

'I-I am a god- '

'You can be a god in all matters but this,' Tony tells him as he drives himself to completion into Loki's copy, his mouth sank onto hot lotus lips, eagerly swallowing each shudder, and it is good, it is better than anything.

When he finally rolls off Loki's eyes are red; red as the cloak he wears in Tony's dreams, and dry as bone.