The smoke still hangs thick in the air, the fires have largely died down now, but the largest ones still smoulder. Together with the early morning fog, it leaves an acrid taste in the back of his throat. Everywhere people are moving in the twilight, picking their way through the debris, looking for anything salvageable.
Searching for survivors, though, is futile as the heat was intense enough to melt even metal. Here and there Bucky sees charcoal shapes of what could've been humans once, but he's too numb to register them.
His fault. All his fault. If he hadn't….
They knew. Everyone knew that he'd been the one to destroy so many lives in one fell swoop. They knew and they acted on it.
Somehow, a deal was struck with him as bargaining chip. It’s more than what he could've hoped for.
They approach a coach. A strange sight on the road that's otherwise devoid of traffic. Its lanterns illuminate the smoking remains of what used to be a an orchard behind it, and it's like the carriage emits the vapours itself. The driver, all in black, sits unmoving up front. Two pitch black horses stand eerily still, not even their ears twitch, and if Bucky looks too close at them he's hit by a sense of vertigo.
His attention snaps to the door that opens to a very tall man, also all in black, who steps from the carriage to hold open the door and beckons them closer.
Bucky's pulled forward by his jailer, the son of the town's sheriff since the sheriff himself perished in the fires. The kid is barely older than him, and Bucky feels him quivering beside him, even if his grip on Bucky's arm never wavers.
They halt a few paces away from the carriage, and he waits while the other boy, the sheriff Bucky should call him, quietly confers with whoever sits inside. After a terse nod the sheriff steps back and motions for Bucky to step forward.
He suppresses the need to look behind him and sends a silent prayer to the heavens to protect his mother and sisters as he steps into the carriage.
“-nother thing, where the hell is the law of conservation of energy in this equation? Where does magic just make things appear from? Also, if all this is real, then why the hell haven’t we got any empirical proof? The argument that no proof can exist because it is the nature of paranormal occurrences is unfalsifiable and circular... Rhodey, are you even listening to me?”
“Yes, Tones. I am,” Rhodey says with a long suffering sigh, which rude. “Can’t blame me for spacing out though. I thought I was gonna talk to my best friend about what’s happening in his life, about why he’s suddenly decided to buy an entire library’s worth of books online- and no, don’t lie, JARVIS told me. I did not sign up for a goddamn 25 minute rant on why magic isn’t real.”
“Well, you wanted to know what was going on, this is what’s going on, honeybear.”
“What? Magic? You’re gonna leave the world’s biggest tech and weapons company to become a ghostbuster?”
“No, you ass. Why am I even friends with you? Did you even listen to a single thing I said? I am telling you how magic isn’t real! It’s not possible. I can prove it. Wait!”
“Prove- what? Tony, are you sure this is really about magic and not, you know? I mean I’m no shrink but it really sounds to me like you’re trying to distract yourself from all the shit that went down with Sunset?”
“I can’t hear you over the sound of me being right. Ha! Got it!” Tony sing-songs, willfully ignoring any and all words that fall out of Rhodey’s mouth that are sure to kill his buzz.
“Got what ? Do I need to call Pepper?”
“Ugh, stop being a party-pooper and listen. I’m gonna prove to you this is all bullshit. Magic, religion, God . I got some weird spell book kind of thing here, let’s see if I can actually summon a...hm... demon, apparently.”
“...you’re summoning a demon? Seriously, Tones? Do you want to be the first five minutes of a horror movie?”
“I thought you didn’t believe in all this, my skeptic friend. Where’s that MIT education gone now?”
“I don’t! But this is the same kinda white nonsense that you and I shout at when we’re watching those movies.”
“Life isn’t a movie, Rhodes. Shut up and let me do this.”
“Seriously, Tony I- Tony?”
Tony places the phone on the counter, ignoring Rhodey’s tinny shouts of his name as he drunkenly stumbles over to the side, the old-smelling tome in his hand.
“Okay, here goes!” Tony calls out over his shoulder with a grin as he opens the tome to the bookmarked page. It had taken him the better part of yesterday and the entire night to teach himself how to read Latin. The syllables fall out of his mouth less fluidly than he would have liked, a few hitches and slurrings. Perhaps doing this on no sleep with half a bottle of Jack in his system is a bad idea but, what’s done is done. Or will be done, whatever.
As the last syllable rings out, there’s a moment of what feels like suspended animation, of complete and utter silence before there’s a bright light, a heatwave sending Tony stumbling backwards as a rending sound echoes in his living room. He can hear JARVIS’ frantic, “Sir?” and Rhodey’s angry, “What the fuck was that, Tony?” but only barely.
As everything recedes, in a matter of seconds that feel like hours, Tony sits up against the wall blinking in surprise at what he is seeing.
“Uh, I’m gonna have to call you back, Rhodey. I think I might have finally gone crazy. That or I accidentally summoned a demon? Uh, you can have my Roadster if I die. Okaythanksbyelove you!” He blurts out before cutting the call and stumbling forward.
In the middle of the living room stands a… humanoid being, towering over Tony even with its head bowed. Shaggy long dark hair falls over his face, obscuring it but doing nothing to hide the two spiralling horns jutting out of the top of his head. The person? freak? Male, definitely male's shoulders are bowed but that does nothing mask his broad physique, the definition of his muscles even more prominent due to his shirtless state, which adds more evidence to the theory of this being a whiskey induced hallucination, because goddamn those are some biceps. Tony’s eyes travel along the chest without his permission and down to well defined pecs, lower still onto the dips and definitions of his abs- he even has those muscles on the side, the dick arrows. Although, in this case they point to hipbones Tony could cut his tongue on, that precariously hold up a loincloth barely covering his modesty. A quick calculation tells him the garment is approximately 12 inches long, fluttering over thick, hairy thighs that lead into dark furry looking legs and- are those hooves? A movement just behind the man? Demon? Cosplayer? Catches Tony’s eye and he focuses on it through his haze of whiskey and squints at the sinuous movement. His heart lurches as he sees what he thinks is a goddamn snake but a little longer and he can see that the...snake...rope...thing ends in a spade like structure while the other end disappears behind the humanoid. A tail. It’s a tail.
No amount of leaning around can get Tony a glimpse of the tush. For science purposes only, obviously. He needs to see where that tail goes!
It’s only when he glances back at the hooves that he realises the being? Asshole? Demon? Is standing over scorch marks- and Pepper’s gonna kill him for destroying that wool rug- the smell of ozone heavy in the air. He catalogues the tail, the horns, the hooves in quick succession once, twice, three times. On the fourth such pass, his eyes lock on to stormy looking eyes that almost shine in the darkness.
Tony doesn’t know how long the guy/entity/hallucination has been looking at Tony looking at him and that gaze in itself is unnerving and so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind, raising his hands in a placating gesture and stumbling back into the coffee table.
“Please tell me you’re just an overzealous fan who’s three months too late for comic con and not an actual denizen of Hell which, by the way, I don’t believe in at all and was planning on proving didn’t exist with this little experiment so please, don’t tell me you’re actually a demon because that would mean I was wrong and I hate being wrong, ask anyone. Total brat about it. It won’t be pretty for you or for me.”
James raises his head and scents the air, barely listening to what nonsense the human is spewing. He’s always groggy after a summoning, the whole process leaving him disorientated and raw, getting pulled out of hell hurts , and he needs time to get his bearings. This time’s different, something is wrong. Or not wrong exactly. Something is off, he’s… not bound-- how can this..? He takes an experimental step forward, his eyes widening when he can do so unimpeded and he looks down to see there’s no circle, no anything to hold him in place.
His head snaps to the human who dared to summon him in this manner, who must be a remarkable sorcerer, but James doesn’t feel any power emanate from him, and the man has stopped his muttering in favor of looking, no, leering at James.
He frowns at the human and takes another step forward, rising to his full height as he looks down at the man. His gaze falls on the Book of Summoning in the man’s hand and he shudders. If he has the book he has all the power, he can inflict unimaginable pain with mere words, can make James do anything his deprived mind conjures…
James shudders again as memories of horror and pain cascade into his mind and he makes the decision almost without conscious thought. With a huge lunge he’s on the man, straddling his chest and ripping the book from his unresisting fingers. He resists the urge to take the book and run, there’s always the chance the man has all the words memorised, but the man doesn’t resist, doesn’t start the sequence to bind him to his will, to revert James into a mindless slave… He just looks up at James with wide, frightened eyes, and it’s so much like how his past victims looked at him that he hastily crawls away, pressing himself in the corner of the room, next to a large potted plant. He hugs the book to his chest and eyes the man wearily.
He can’t remember a time where he wasn’t bound, where he wasn’t someone’s puppet to be sent out into the world and rain terror on men, women, children. His whole being is reeling with this feeling of… of freedom , and he’s convinced it’s a trick, a play, a dream. He should run, but somehow he can’t summon the will to do so, he has never gone out without being ordered, he doesn’t know how . He clutches the book thighter and waits what the man will do.
Tony slowly rises up from where he’d been lying supine on the ground, winded by the sudden tackle of the... entity… who sat on his chest and looked seconds away from reaching into his chest and tearing his heart out with those claws of his.
He can feel the sting of the scratches on the back of his hands where the book had been snatched from him.
He’s also completely sober now, quicker than having been dunked in cold water.
Tony pants slightly as he rises up on his knees, his eyes locked onto the being huddled up in the corner, curled into a ball that makes him appear a quarter of his size despite Tony having very obvious evidence of his real size just seconds ago.
His head is spinning in confusion. He doesn’t know what it was that made the…. Thing… attack him like that. And then what made him scramble off Tony as if he’d burnt him.
“Uh, look… guy… mister. I don’t know what to call you. I’m- my name’s Tony and if you’re a hallucination- which I’m really scared to admit you might not be- you have to tell me because all the data is pointing towards you being…. Real. So uh, if you are. You know, real. I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Uh, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t hurt me back in return cause uh, despite my self destructive tendencies I really, really don’t wanna go to Hell earlier than my time. So uh. Yeah.”
As he says his piece, Tony shuffles awkwardly towards the side where his phone had been thrown haphazardly. He’s man enough to admit that he’s shit scared right now. His mind refuses to believe what his senses are telling him. There’s no way in hell there’s some kind of half man half goat Jersey Demon who appeared in his living room out of thin air, attacking him for a damn book before cowering in the corner like Tony was the evil one here. Which, arguments can and have been made for Tony’s vilification and it is a commonly held belief that he has a one way ticket to hell but still.
To make matters worse, he hasn’t heard JARVIS ever since all this started and his only two options are that either he’s passed out/in a coma/blackout drunk and hallucinating, or that he’s actually managed to summon some sort of demonic creature in his living room. Knowing his luck, it’s probably the latter.
So, the faster he can reach his phone and call someone- anyone- preferably JARVIS or Rhodey or even the goddamn police, the better.
James barely understands half of the human's rant, feeling too panicked to listen carefully to the rapid flow of words, but he picks up ‘real’ and ‘hurt’ and ‘hell’, which doesn't do anything to help him calm down. The lack of any ties feels like a veil has been lifted from his mind, but instead of being a relief he feels more constricted, his thoughts going every which way without the lack of reins, and with the human's presence he's not succeeding in ordering them.
When the human gets hold of a strange rectangular device James is sure his punishment will come now, and his panic spikes. A crackling sound tears the air and suddenly the room is shrouded in darkness. The low humming sound that was constantly present in the background has stopped as well, and all James hears is his own ragged breathing coupled with the sounds the human makes.
When nothing else happens he lifts his head, gaze locking onto the human, who stares back at him with wide eyes. He's terrified, James can clearly smell it, afraid of him, and when the man starts scrambling backwards with jerky movements James sits up straighter to watch him, more curious now, until the man's back hits a low wall.
They stare at each other for some time, and in the silence James calms down enough to get his bearings. He realises the outburst that killed the lights was his, and slowly the realisation that somehow fate has seen fit to release him from his bond takes hold. He feels the corner of his mouth lift in a lopsided grin, and the reaction of the human is almost comical.
When Tony sees the demon – and his mind still roils at the moniker – smirk like the cat that just mauled and dismembered the canary and presented its carcass to its master, he balks, a shaky hand scrabbling along the wall to feel for the access panel in the dark, his other hand holding his phone tightly, ramming his thumb into the screen to get it to work again even though it’s very obvious its been fried like all the electronics in the building from what he can tell.
Oh god, JARVIS.
In the dark stillness, the floor to ceiling windows of his apartment let in the soft moonlight and two mercurial eyes shine across the room, sending shivers down his spine.
God, this is how Tony dies. Rhodey’s gonna be so pissed.
James wonders if he retains all of his powers. He closes his eyes and concentrates, until he feels himself shrinking, changing. When he opens his eyes it's to the slack jawed look of the human, and he looks down at himself in satisfaction, it seems he can still change at will.
The human is still clutching the rectangular device, making gestures on its surface with his thumb. James is not afraid anymore that the human is capable of overpowering him, but maybe he can use that thing to call others who can. He concentrates on the shiny black surface, and for a second nothing happens, but then the rectangle starts to shiver until it pulls free from the human’s hand and flies across the room into James’ waiting hand. He fumbles the catch, still getting reacquainted with this body, and it lands on his lap. He picks it up to study it, but it’s like a smooth rock, except warm to the touch, and won't divulge its secrets to him. To be safe he crushes it in his hand, wincing as it breaks into sharp shards that he drops onto the floor next to his leg.
Tony would never believe it if he didn’t see it for himself but the entity in front of him starts shifting, a smooth transition that leaves a very, very hot, mostly naked man with all the musculature of the creature from before, the palpable feeling of danger, only wrapped in a more human looking package.
He can’t help but swallow at the sight.
Before he can get his wits about him, there’s a tugging on his phone and despite his white-knuckled grip, the device flies out of his hand and into the now claw-less hand of the guy. He looks it over, turning it this way and that way before crushing it in his fist as if it were made of cardboard and not an industrial strength titanium-gold alloy.
“Holy fucking hell!” Tony exclaims, his mouth falling open. His mouth runs away from him as he pushes himself off the floor in his offended incredulity.
“What the shit!? That was- how did you- fuck! Who – What are you? Why the fuck did you- that was a prototype you asshole!”
James startles at the outburst, trying to decipher the meaning behind the random flow of words. “Hell is not holy,” he rumbles, then grins sharply, “but I can show you fucking.”
NB: rating has changed to Explicit. For those of you who were expecting plot, we're sorry, pure smut in this chapter, with a bit of plot interspersed. If anyone wants we could give a short smut free summary in the after notes, just let us know in the comments!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Tony blinks once, then twice. His mind stutters slightly as his gaze drops to check out the muscled form once more because he really has no impulse control and to be fair, the guy practically asks for it by hitting on Tony so blatantly and holy shit, he must be dreaming because this whole scenario is preposterously hot.
It’s hitting each and every one of his kinks like someone smashed a two-tonne mallet on a high striker game, ringing Tony’s bell.
“Oh god, are you a sex demon? Did I summon a sex demon? Not that I need help in that avenue given, you know, most eligible bachelor four years in a row, not to mention the positive reviews by my long, long list of one night stands. But if you’re offering...” Tony trails off with a tiny smirk, leaning back on his hands, his legs spread, folded at the knee. It comes naturally to him, cloaking his nervousness in blatant aggrandising and flirting.
This is why he was summoned? It wouldn’t be the first time. What is new, is that he can act freely, and acting without being ordered to feels more exhilarating with each thing that he does. He still has the red book in his hand. He holds it away from him, arm outstretched on the flat of his hand, and with a little effort he makes it go up in flames, watching fascinated as the paper blackens and crumbles to dust.
When it’s all gone he looks at the human again and with a wink he blows the ashes from his hand and stands up, the loincloth falling to the ground. He doesn’t remember a time where it felt so good to just change his posture. For the fun of it he stretches his arms above his head, turning his torso this way and that. A laugh escapes him, he almost feels giddy, and he wants to do something, something fun and just for him.
He turns to the human again and stalks towards him.
Tony’s mouth runs dry when the man stands and starts stalking towards him, all feline and dangerous, without a stitch of clothing on him.
His hole clenches around air as if gaining a mind of its own and starting Kegel exercises in preparation because holy fucking shit. His cock sways with every step he takes, right in Tony’s direct line of sight like a promise and a threat all wrapped up in one mouth watering package- not that he’s sure he can even get his mouth around that damn thing completely.
“Jesus, you look like all kinds of trouble,” Tony blurts out. Behind the bravado, he feels a tickle of fear inside his stomach. He’s not completely governed by his dick, he can feel the aura of creepiness, of darkness cloaking the being in front of him, can recognise what a precarious position he’s in, all alone- no Rhodey, no JARVIS, a strange, naked man in his house with the power to blow out electricity grids, crush nigh-on-indestructible phones, and set things on fire with his mind .
Despite every evolutionary instinct telling him to back the fuck up, roll over and submit in front of this higher order of predator, Tony Stark does not cower in the shadows. He’s the asshole with too much money, too much brains, and too little caution. So, he squares his shoulders and uses the only weapon available to him a this point- his tongue.
“Also, I get that you’re pissed and all but was destroying my shit, the whole light show, setting fire to the book really that necessary? I mean, points for how fucking dramatic it was, but dude, you kinda fucked yourself in the ass there seeing as now there’s no way for you to go back to… wherever the hell you’re from.”
“I know,” James replies with a grin. He knows it’s not as simple as that, they will come for him, no doubt about it, but for now he’s safe. Or as safe as he can be, and he intends to enjoy it while it lasts.
He stops in front of the human and looks down at him. Even in this form James still towers over him, and he admires how the man doesn’t cower, even if he does lick his lips nervously, and isn’t that a pretty sight? James looks him up and down and sniffs, the human smells more than just afraid now, he smells… aroused?
“Why don’t you run?” he asks and bends down to nuzzle the man’s cheek, breathing in his scent. At James’ question the man’s fear spikes, but also something else, something that smells sweet and alluring. “You talk a lot about fucking, little human,” he rumbles, and tries if he can push the man down with one hand on his chest, grinning when he resists.
“Who the hell are you calling little ? I’m averagely sized, you ass.” Tony exclaims, his voice breezy with what he wants to believe is fear or anger but might in fact be 90% lust. He can’t help his shiver at the closeness, the wash of the creature’s hot breath on his flushed skin.
Jesus, his libido really has no restrictions, does it?
“ I’m not running because I’m not afraid of you, you ass. If you’re expecting me to run away screaming, you’ve got another thing coming.” He replies with a sneer, bringing his hands up to the guy’s chest to push him away or at least try to. It’s not as effective since the creature refuses to budge and instead looks down at Tony with a smirk.
At the back of his mind, Tony realises now why people hate him being so smug all the damn time so much. It really is infuriating.
In another corner, Tony catalogues how firm those pecs feel under his hands, how unyielding the strength in his body.
In yet another, he silently freaks out at having just mouthed off to someone with super strength on top of freaky paranormal powers without having anything to back that up with.
He swallows, his eyes flicking down without his approval to that broad chest, the same chest Tony has his hands on, that’s warm to the touch with a smoothness to the skin that is a contrast to the callouses on Tony’s palms.
He really, really should take his hands off the guy’s chest.
And he does intend to, until a stray thought hits him, wondering about whether the pink nub of his nipple would feel the same as it does in normal people or not.
He’s still not sure he’s not having a very lucid, very hot dream but either way, there’s literally no scenario where he’d actually turn down a good fucking. Especially not on a night when his loneliness threatens to claw at him from the inside which incidentally leads to decisions such as getting drunk and summoning sex demons.
Before he can stop it, his thumbs are rubbing along the creature’s pecs, flicking his nipple curiously.
James laughs, startled and delighted as he is with the little creature’s feistiness. His touches kindle James’ lust strong enough for him to grow fully hard, and he pushes the man down with more intent, all the way down until he’s straddling him. In this position there’s really no question anymore how the man feels about being near James, his arousal pushing against James’ naked skin through the thick fabric of his trousers. James does a little roll with his hips, and grins again as the man gasps.
“You like this, don’t you, little man? Maybe you’re not so little everywhere,” he smirks, and rolls his hips again.
Little man?! Tony wants to protest against that once more but then the guy rolls his hips down again and goddamn, he moves like he’s made of sin, all predatory and seductive at the same time. Tony doesn’t even know how and when he ended up on his back with what is evidently a denizen of hell in his lap, grinding on his erection.
God, he didn’t even realise when he turned hard. It could have been when he first glimpsed that large, overwhelming form, or it could have been just seconds ago at the strip show and the proximity of the silver eyed man looming over Tony.
In either case, it’s the threat of danger, of the feeling of dancing on a knife’s edge that makes Tony leak precum in his briefs and his hands fall to those thick, firm thighs.
The last dregs of his self preservation give up the ghost and Tony bites his lower lip, arching his hips up slightly in a question.
If he’s going to die tonight- which, not that big a loss to the world- why not go out after (or during) what promises to be mind-blowing sex?
James grins in victory, and bends forward to take the man’s hands in one of his, forcing them above his head on the floor. He lets one nail grow long on his other hand, and uses it to tear through the fabric of the man’s clothes like they’re made out of paper.
What he unwraps pleases him immensely. The man is well formed, muscled where he should be, and his erection is indeed a good size. He wants to flip the man onto his stomach, bury himself deep within, but he chides himself. There’s no hurry, this is for him to enjoy , so he lowers his head and licks along the man’s collarbone, and down over those pretty brown nipples, feeling pleased with how the man reacts.
He blows over the wetted skin and watches with satisfaction as his human is startled and writhes in his grip.
“Shhh.” He rolls his hips again as the man seems to like that. “I won't hurt you,” he whispers and scrapes his teeth over one of the firm nubs, “much,” he adds with a grin and bites in the firm pectoral muscle.
Tony shudders and moans as their erections grind against each other at every rock of the creature’s hips, his devious mouth nipping and biting, teasing him with sharp pinpoints of pain.
He tugs at his hands – held so casually in the other’s left hand – fingers itching with the desire to touch, to run his hands through the brown locks that tickle his skin as the demon bends over him, to tug at his hair, pull him closer, get that mouth all over him.
He feels everything so much more keenly: the weight of the demon on top of him, pressing him down onto the cold floor, the air on his heated skin, the warmth of the demon’s skin a counterpoint to that sensation, his leaking cock sliding against the demon’s hard length….
“If you’re gonna fuck me through the floor – which I’m all for, honestly – can I at least know your name?” Tony pants out, looking up at the demon from under his lashes.
James sits up to look down at the human, who seems craftier than he first appeared. Names have power, and it's the only thing his masters never could take away from him, as that wasn't part of the original deal. His name is his alone, has stayed that way for centuries, and he'll never give it to anyone.
“You can call me Bucky,” he says and leans down until his face is mere inches away from his human's face. “What shall I call you, little human? Except for mine …”
Tony shivers at the dark promise in the word, as if it is an accepted fact that Tony belongs to him…. to Bucky. It’s only now that it slightly dawns on him that maybe, perhaps, just this one time he might’ve bitten off more than he could chew, but then the demon rocks against Tony again and he can feel that throbbing, hard erection against his hip and fuck it all , he thinks. He wants that in him and he rolls his hips up to transmit that desire.
At twenty three, he’s an orphan, recently dumped, possibly about to be booted out of his own company, with a current BAC well above the legal limit, probably already going to Hell (now that he knows it exists). So why not? Might as well endear one of its denizens on his way there.
“Tony, my name’s Tony,” He breathes out, his gaze snared by the molten silver eyes above him. They remind him of mercury, liquid, dangerous, beautiful.
“Now, are we doing this or not?”
James chuckles. “Impatient.” He doesn't let it hurry his movements, leaning down to lick his human's, Tony’s, lips. He tastes like alcohol and something sweet, something James can't place but wants to try, and with a shock he realises he can go out and do just that. For now he doesn't mind tasting Tony some more, and he tugs on his lower lip with his teeth to coax him to open up for him, smiling against his lips when he does without hesitation.
Kissing Tony is unlike anything James can remember doing in his long (too long) life, and he’s instantly addicted. His little human isn’t afraid to tease and bite him, to try and dominate the kiss, and James lets him for now.
He lets go of Tony's hands so he can use both of his, tracing them over the soft skin of Tony's shoulders and lower. When he reaches those delicious nipples he gives them both a firm tug, soothing them with his thumbs afterwards. Tony seems to be made just for this. He rewards every touch, every lick with breathy moans and wriggling impatiently beneath him, driving James steadily wild.
“What do you want, little human?” he whispers, curious.
As soon as Tony’s hands are free he drops them onto Bucky’s thighs the tingle of blood rushing back in, after being held so tightly in one position, adding to all the other sensations Tony can feel: that of the demon tugging at his nipples, his mouth a hot point of focus on Tony’s neck, breath washing over him as he whispers.
His fingers dig into the firm muscle as he arches up, the scraps of fabric from what had once been his soft AC/DC t-shirt and a worn in pair of jeans rubbing against his skin at every movement.
“I want you to make me forget,” Tony replies in a moment of naked honesty. His words are still cloaked in the breathy tones of arousal and he hopes to god- or Satan in this case- that the being above him doesn’t question it.
“Make me forget my name, I know you can.” He goads, running his hands up Bucky’s thighs, towards his groin where his cock juts out proudly, curved slightly up, thicker than usual at the base. He gets enough brain cells together to wrap a hand around it, gasping in surprise when his fingers barely touch tips at the circumference.
“Sometime during the night, I also want this-” he illustrates his point better by giving the dick in his hand a firm stroke, “-inside me. That’s what I want.”
James bucks into Tony's hand like a schoolboy. It's been so long since anyone touched him like that, but there's something his human isn't saying, and he takes hold of his wrist to keep Tony from distracting him further.
He looks down at him, leaning a bit more of his weight on Tony's legs so he stops his bucking up against James. “You're hurt.” It's a statement, not a question. He can see it clear in Tony's eyes, in his jutted out chin, in the lines around his eyes that have no place on a face this young.
Tony's hurt and scared, and he's completely at James' mercy, but still he fights. Not by resisting, the exact opposite, by making this his own choice, going at his pace. James is flooded with something he cannot place. He wants to please this being, wants to protect him, and when he next bends down to lavish Tony's nipples with his tongue it's not just to chase his own pleasure.
Tony’s stomach clenches at the feeling of the hot, wet tongue against his nipple. Oh god… he’s never really had anyone paying so much attention to them before, only his own hand when he jerks off sometimes. He had no idea how sensitive they actually were.
It’s almost enough to distract him from the demon’s proclamation. You’re hurt… he’d said, as if seeing right through Tony and into his soul. It makes him a little nervous and ironically, it also relaxes him at the same time. Despite hating the vulnerability it brings, the idea that the being on top of him can see behind his masks is… a little freeing.
He very willfully ignores what it means that a creature of Hell is the one who can understand Tony so well.
Instead, he focuses on rocking his hips up against Bucky’s, panting softly as his other hand- the one not held captive- falls to the back of the demon’s long, brunet hair, gripping it and tugging when there were teeth on his nub all of a sudden, pulling and nipping. Instead of pulling him away, Tony directs his attention to the other one with a groan as he arches up into his mouth.
James chuckles. He likes this human, and has no problem of obliging to his request, moving over to the other side to give the same treatment. All these noises Tony makes serve to rack up his arousal, and he can't remember if he ever enjoyed himself so much during sex. This stray thought threatens to open a valve to a maelstrom of horrible memories, and he moves upwards to claim Tony's mouth again.
Kissing is novel enough to help him get lost in the feeling of it, and he moves Tony's other hand to his hair as well, he loves the feel of those nimble fingers through his long hair. As a reward he starts moving his hips against Tony's, their erections rubbing against each other. Tony tastes so good, his mouth, his skin, and James wonders what Tony tastes like down there.
He moves lower, licking every bit of skin he encounters, sucking a mark here and there just for the pleasure of Tony tightening his grip on James' hair. When he reaches Tony's hard length he wastes no time in suckling on the head like a treat, and he can't help the moan that escapes him, Tony tastes
. He looks up at Tony in wonder, how can one little mortal be so perfect?
Tony’s stomach jumps as Bucky starts making his way down his chest, kissing, nipping, teasing, his tongue and teeth driving Tony crazy and he is leaking at the thought of having that sinful mouth on his cock.
Either the demon is capable of telepathy or there really is a genie in the sky granting wishes because the next thing he knows there’s a hot, wet mouth around his cock, and Tony moans, arching up, his fingers tightening in Bucky’s long hair, tugging at it as he tries to buck his hips up, get more of that mouth on him.
His legs fall open, opening wider to accommodate Bucky’s broad shoulders and he drapes a leg over his left shoulder, resting his heel on his spine, giving him more room to maneuver.
The way Tony surrenders so completely has James' heart stutter in his chest, and he sets to make his little human feel good. He can't do anything about the hole in his heart, but he can make him forget just like he asked. He sucks him in to the root without preamble, moving his tongue against the shaft to try and coax more of that delicious fluid out. He moves back and swirls his tongue around the head to lap it up before he sinks down again.
He gently holds onto his human's hips, not using enough force to bruise, but to help him keep still while he bobs up and down. When Tony's cock starts to twitch and harden more he pulls off. It would be a shame if things were done already. Tony's protests silence when James licks lower, playing with his balls before moving beyond. He easily lifts Tony's ass off the ground, enough to give him access, and he licks around his hole a few times before prodding his tongue in.
But what is this? He lets Tony down to look at him. “You're too small,” he tells him with a frown.
Look at the gorgeous art Chaos draws made us!! Go shower them with love.
Plot suspended until the next one in the series. Till then, enjoy the smut!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Tony is just getting into it, having that sinuous wet tongue at his hole, his heel digging into Bucky’s back, coaxing him for more as he pulls at his hair, when suddenly he’s bereft of that mouth between his thighs and in response lets out a dismayed groan.
His annoyance at Bucky stopping quickly dissolves into confusion. It takes him a second to realise what the demon means, at first assuming that he’s continuing in the same vein of calling him 'little’ and ‘small’ – which rude, Tony is an average-sized human. It’s only when he props himself on his elbow that he realises that Bucky is looking at his hole in dismay.
Is he for real?!
“Stop calling me small!” Great job, Stark, focusing on the real issue like the genius you are.
James shrugs and lines himself up. This is the first time James is summoned to have sex with a fully clothed human, maybe it’s different? If Tony thinks it’ll fit he’s probably right, it’s his body after all.
It’s almost a reflex action, what happens next. At the thought of the demon presuming that he could even try to shove that monster cock in Tony without any prep, while he was dry as the Sahara makes him pull back his leg from over the demon’s shoulder and plant his foot in his chest, shoving him back with an offended, “Woah, hey! Pump the fucking breaks!”
James looks at Tony in confusion as the human pushes himself away against James’ chest, sliding backwards over the floor. Isn’t this what he wanted? He crawls back to him and stops when he hovers above Tony, rubbing his cock along the inside of Tony’s thigh. “What’s wrong, little one?”
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong is that you were trying to fuck me dry! What’s wrong is that there’s no way that, ” Tony emphasises by pointing at Bucky’s leaking cock, “is going anywhere near my hole without at least half a bottle of lube! Jesus Christ, foreplay is a thing, you know. And another thing,” he continues, drawing himself up in offense, pushing up to his knees, “stop calling me fucking little! I’m not little or small or… whatever. You’re just unfairly big.” Involuntarily, his gaze drops down to Bucky’s cock and he can’t suppress his shiver in time.
“You need to be prepared.” James agrees with this sentiment. He wouldn’t much want to damage his human. He pumps his member a few times, just for the decadence of it, because now he can without having to wait for orders or spending hours and hours unsatisfied while his masters--
“Okay, usually, the fact that you even tried to do that, that right there would be a deal breaker, but I’m drunk and lonely and you’re really, really hot and I want you. So, we’re gonna go to bed so we can fuck like rabbits in comfort.” Tony pushes up to his feet, shooting the demon a glare. He will not be distracted by wide puppy eyes or the hand that’s stroking his leaking cock leisurely. The juxtaposition is enough to kill a man.
“I can’t believe I have to give sex ed to a demon before I fuck him.” He mutters under his breath, as he walks away towards the bedroom.
James feels the corners of his mouth curl up. Tony is a wonderful feisty little human, but he will call him something else if this upsets him. He doesn’t want to upset Tony with the sad eyes. He does not like it that Tony walks away from him though, and he growls, low in his throat. “Don’t make me chase you,” he warns.
Tony looks over his shoulder with a coquettish flutter of his eyelashes, “Maybe I want that, big boy.” He smirks, loving the sense of predatory determination in Bucky’s face. There’s something about the demon, something about the dangerous, almost possessive edge of darkness that is cloaking him, that makes Tony want to poke at it.
He turns the corner towards the bedroom and takes off in a run across the short distance.
James laughs then, a large and joyous sound. He’s free and here’s Tony who wants to celebrate this with him. Elated he gives chase, going after Tony at a jog, enjoying the way his member jostles at each step. Everything, every movement brings him joy and he laughs again, speeding up, following the silver tinkling sound of Tony’s giggles.
He catches Tony on the threshold of the bedroom, scooping him up into his arms and throwing him onto the bed after three large strides. At the look Tony shoots him he growls again and jumps onto the bed as well, keeping himself balanced with his tail on instinct. He startles, hoping he didn’t scare his little human right when they were having fun, but the way Tony stares at it, almost hungry, seems like it’s quite the contrary, and an idea forms in his mind. His tail is flexible, sensitive (easy to punish him with). His tail wouldn’t be ‘too big’.
Watching Tony intently he brings his tail forward and caresses the inside of his leg with the tip, from ankle to thigh, cataloguing the way Tony’s breath hitches, how he licks his lips as he watches its progress. James moves his tail further up, winding it around Tony’s cock, giving it the lightest of squeezes. When Tony’s eyes flutter shut in pleasure James growls again, possessive, his little human to pleasure. He moves his tail up and down Tony’s length while he crawls over him again. He finds he likes being on top of Tony, and the bit of stretch this position gives on his tail is wonderful as well. He nuzzles Tony’s neck, drinking in his scent, his arousal a thick flavour overhanging his natural scent.
“How do I prepare you, Pulchellus. How do I bring you pleasure?” He licks behind Tony’s ear, nipping his earlobe. “What do I need to do to make you mine?” He whispers, relishing in the way Tony shivers beneath him.
Tony needs to file a complaint against mind bogglingly sexy demons and their whiskey rough voices calling Tony things he doesn’t understand- something with a Latin root.
The fact that he has two brain cells to rub together to identify even that after Bucky’s ministrations is itself a miracle. The surprisingly pleasurable sensation of that sinuous tail milking his cock like the world’s freakiest fleshlight has left him leaking and arching up against Bucky, moaning wantonly.
“Lube, we need lube,” Tony pants out, driven out of his mind with pleasure. Despite his more than average number of dalliances, he hasn’t felt anything like this, couldn’t have ever imagined such burning desire that Bucky invokes in him. Never in his 23 years of existence has he ever thought he’d be here, reaching up with one hand, trying to open the bedside drawer for lube and condoms, lying under a very horny - pun intended- demon who was making it his mission to lick and bite every inch of Tony’s neck, alternating between worrying the skin with his teeth and sucking what Tony knew would turn into blooming red marks come morning. Not that he cares.
Before he can push the demon away so he could gain back some of the motor skills he’s lost somewhere between the living room and the bedroom, the tail unwinds from his cock and he lets out an offended whine at the loss of pleasure. He’s distracted by Bucky’s smug chuckle and before he can smack the demon for being a little shit, his chin is caught by a firm hand and his mouth invaded like Bucky’s planning on planting his flag in Tony’s tonsils, claiming it all as his own. The fucking tail is sliding teasingly up Tony’s body and he opens an eye to glare at it, even as Bucky sucks on his tongue, only to find that tail dextrously opening the drawer for Tony before hovering in the air like a puppy waiting for acknowledgement.
Tony gives Bucky’s lower lip one last tug with his teeth before pulling away and slipping out from under the cradle of his arms to turn onto all fours. He gives the tail an absent stroke before leaning over to grab the supplies from his now open drawer, his ass pushed out towards Bucky’s face in a blatant tease.
“You should see about getting me slick and wet for you. Nothing is going near my ass until I’m dripping.”
Tony caressing his tail has James almost coming on the spot. Never in all his existence has his tail been softly touched by anyone other than himself, and the sensation is leaving him wanting more of it, all of it. With his hands on Tony’s hips he hauls him closer and flips him back onto his back, nestling between his legs and wasting no time now he knows what needs to be done. He lifts both of Tony’s legs onto his shoulders and eyes his prize, a pretty pink hole, clenching around nothing as if it’s begging for James to put something in. He softly licks over the muscle and leans back to watch it flutter again, it’s hypnotizing.
Tony groans at the tease, his thighs parting wider, ankles locking over Bucky’s spine. “You gonna keep looking at it all night or are you actually going to get to it sometime this century?” He snarks, despite shivering from the warm breath that puffs over his skin.
He’s usually not such a demanding lover, not one to beg and plead but it’s thrilling to fall into the role of the pushy, demanding brat when he knows he’ll get the kinds of reactions he secretly craves but never had the opportunity to explore.
“Not all of us are immortal here. I know I have a great ass and all but-” He cuts off into a moan when his goading pays off and Bucky retaliates by gripping his ass and parting his cheeks, lifting his hips up as if he weighs nothing.
With a growl James bites into Tony’s ass, chuckling at his offended cry. When he soothes the skin with his tongue the cry makes way for a low moan and Tony trying to push his ass against James’ face. James bites the other side as well, leaving a pretty red mark, and this time the bite itself has Tony groaning and moving his hips back and forth, digging his heels into James’ back. James could spend the entire night just marking his little human like this, to try what all his sensitive spots are, the ones that make him cry out and shiver, but his own cock is demanding attention. Never before has it been about him finding enjoyment in completion, and that will end now. He will push his seed into his pretty Pulchellus and it will be glorious.
James sets to work for real, pushing his tongue into Tony without preamble, probing around that sweet hole until it’s sopping wet.
Tony is a moaning, panting mess, cock leaking on his stomach, head thrown back, thighs trembling as Bucky drives him to insanity with that tongue of his. He swears that there’s some demon magic operating here because it’s not humanly possible for a tongue to be that… flexible or that long – reaching places inside Tony that he didn’t know were possible. He doesn’t know how long Bucky works his hole, sloppily sucking on the ring, his stubbled cheeks rubbing against the soft skin on the inside of Tony’s thighs, the graze of his teeth which shoots electricity down his spine…. It’s only when there is the pressure of something else nudging at his hole, a blunt tip, too small to be his cock, the wrong shape for a finger that Tony emerges from his lust-soaked haze and pushes up on an elbow. He sees the tail disappear between his legs and there’s the slow breach at his hole of what he’s sure is the spade tip.
He’s loose and wet with Bucky’s saliva but there’s still the burn of stretch and Bucky’s mouth is still there because he’s a nasty fucker and holy shit, Tony is seconds from getting tail-fucked by a demon .
He gasps in realisation, throwing a hand out to search blindly for the lube bottle he’d taken out earlier. Once his hand closes on the plastic cylinder he chucks the thing at Bucky’s head with a precision he’s proud of since he’s floaty with endorphins.
James has never liked doing something as much as he loves doing this. With every new angle of his tongue he coaxes new sounds from Tony, every one like music to his sound starved ears. When James feels the muscle relax and take his tongue with ease he brings his tail towards where his mouth is still working, and oh so gently pushes the tip of his tail next to his tongue, into his human lover.
He did not expect to be hit in the head. Wouldn’t have been if the sensation of this warm, wet hole around the tip of his tail didn’t steal all his attention. He pulls back to see Tony has thrown the lube and is frowning at him angrily. James refuses to be treated in this manner, this is for both of them to enjoy, and pushes the tail in a bit further in retaliation, watching Tony’s reaction. The way his eyes go wide in surprise and the slight shiver that runs through his human’s body is enough for James to continue, and he bends forward until he loses eye contact and can lick inside again.
“Bucky, damnit, I need it, please,” Tony moans, and James can’t quite place how he sounds. Desperate? For more or for less? He stops licking to coat the tip of his tail with the lube. He doesn’t much care for the smell of it, even if it’s supposed to be ‘neutral’ according to the bottle, but Tony seems to really want it, and James is not sure he can deny Tony anything at this point. He folds the spade into a cone, and gently pushes it back in, a bit further than last time, and starts moving it in and out, until that sweet muscle relaxes enough for him to push the tip far enough in to be swallowed completely.
The wonderful thing of preparing Tony with his tail is that he has two hands to caress him with, to stroke up and down that beautiful olive skin. To pinch his nipples and be rewarded by a fierce clench around his tail. James can lean back a bit, and admire how pretty his little human is, how perfect round his ass, how enticing the way his stomach muscles work as he moves to fuck himself on James’ tail.
Soon his tail isn’t enough anymore, sliding in and out with ease, so James adds a finger, then two, slowly working his beautiful lover open enough to accommodate him, keeping his tail buried deep inside.
Tony’s attention is caught by something flickering above his eyeline, near Bucky’s head. He tilts his head up, moaning when the other takes advantage of that and mouths at Tony’s neck. He tugs at his long brunet hair and the flickering stabilizes into a static image. He feels something with ridges bump against his chin and looks down to find two protrusions in his line of sight. He tugs Bucky’s head up in alarm and looks at him wide eyed. It’s like an illusion has melted leaving behind the visage of the demon that he’d seen when he’s first appeared. The two ridged horns are back, curving up, ending in blunt tips. Curiously, he runs his fingertip over one, watching in delight at the way Bucky shudders at the contact.
“That’s new… or maybe not so much,” Tony amends breathlessly; these did exist when Bucky first manifested – or whatever it is these demonic types call appearing out of thin fucking air – but had disappeared at the human-mimicking form of the demon. All movement has ceased above him but he’s way too distracted by tracing the grooves in the horns to notice much.
“Where were you hiding these babies?”
When he gets no reprimand from Bucky, his curiosity can’t be kept at bay any longer and he curls a hand over it, stroking the appendage which is thick enough at the base that he can barely wrap his hand around all of it, decreasing in girth as he strokes up.
James shudders as Tony caresses, actually caresses his horns, the most blatant expression of his demon-ness. They’re not sensitive like his tail, but the fact that Tony touches them without scorn or horror means more to James than he can put into words. He’s overwhelmed, his fingers and tail had slipped from Tony’s hole at the first touch of his horns, his tail curling in on itself on instinct. It takes restraint to keep his human shape, and every slip up--
There’s no punishment.
Only Tony and his wide, curious eyes and his soft fingers and softer hair. James curls his tail around Tony’s wrist, a silent thank you, and slowly bends lower, watching for any sign of disgust on his human’s face. When they kiss it’s softer than before, sweeter, a declaration of something else than just lust. James doesn’t quite know what to do with this feeling that tries to expand in his chest, this warmth, and he looks at Tony for guidance.
The expression of joy on Bucky’s face is something beautiful, something Tony wants to replicate multiple times with various different variables. It requires further study.
He rises up on his knees, pushing Bucky back a bit, the demon almost malleable now that Tony has a hand on his horn, thumb tracing every groove, rubbing into the spot on his skull where they emerge from.
His reactions make it obvious that this is not just an erogenous zone but a vulnerable one as well. There’s something about holding someone’s trust like this in his hands, especially someone who has unfathomable powers, that floods Tony’s shrivelled up black heart with joy.
He wants to appreciate that, to make Bucky feel as good as he has Tony till now so he starts mapping a path down his chest with his mouth, getting his lips, tongue and teeth over all those firm muscles the way he’s wanted to since he appeared.
His little human must be an angel in disguise, the way he lays bare all of James’ weaknesses with barely any effort, rewarding James for them, for being him. In a daze he lets himself be pushed onto his back, his tail moving on its own accord to stroke Tony's arm. James is torn between closing his eyes and giving himself to the sensation of being kissed and teased, and watching Tony, with his ass playfully in the air as he works his way along James’ body.
It's almost too much. The scrape of Tony's teeth over his nipples, the soft brush of his hair on James' skin, and his fingers that never stop their movement, touching James so gently… At the first touch of Tony's tongue on his straining cock James already feels his balls tightening, the heat pooling low in his gut. James is helpless, doesn't even want to fight it, and when Tony wraps that perfect mouth around the head, licking it like he would a treat, James comes violently. As his whole body shudders the lights flicker on and off again, and he rips the bedding where he was clawing at it, afraid he might hurt Tony otherwise. A release has never felt this good, and it seems to last and last, his whole body exploding into pleasure.
Tony pulls back, letting Bucky’s cock slip out, his lips and chin sticky and wet with a mixture of drool and come, splooges of it dripped onto his chest. He’s sure he looks debauched. He licks his lips with a smirk and sits back.
“Pity you didn’t last long, I was really looking forward to having you in me.”
Bucky looks up at him, his rapturous expression turning into a smug, predatory grin, flashing teeth that look much sharper than what Tony felt on his skin earlier.
“Oh, but we’re just getting started, sweet thing.”
The nickname Bucky uses, "pulchellus," is taken from here!
Tony thinks there will come a time when he’ll learn to keep his mouth shut and not needle people into retaliating. But then again, if his provocations lead him to where he is now – on his stomach, legs frogged out, a goddamn creature of hell behind him getting ready to push his huge cock into Tony’s sloppily wet hole – then he really has no incentive to stop, does he?
He can feel the hot breath on the back of his neck, the brush of the base of the ridged horns at the back of his head, Bucky’s bulk pinning him to the mattress. The first breach of the blunt head makes his breath catch and he has to force himself to not clench up, to relax and let the intrusion in. There are teeth on the back of his neck and he lets out a long exhale, relaxing into the pillow that’s propped under his hips. Slowly, almost torturously, he feels Bucky push in more and more, not stopping or pausing but not slamming into him either. He can’t decide if he wants to pull away or push back into the sensation. The stretch is almost painful and it feels like it goes on forever but then finally his ass bumps against Bucky’s hips and he’s all the way in.
God, he feels so damn full.
James lets out a loud moan, and has to consciously tamp his powers down, lest he make things set on fire by accident. His little human’s mouth took away the sharp edges of his lust, but it was nothing compared to this , to the way his Pulchello’s entire body tries to accommodate him, hot and soft and pulsing around him. James’ gaze is glued to where that pretty pink hole is opening and working to take all of James, stretching wide, framed by those perk globes.
He holds still when he’s seated all the way. He needs to adjust to the feeling of this new warm and inviting hole, to the feeling of that perfect ass against his hips. Curious, he pats one of the cheeks, not hard, just enough to make it jiggle, and the moan and clench Tony gives him are mind boggling.
“You like that, lit-- Pulchellus?” he whispers in Tony’s ear, pushing in even deeper with the new angle.
Tony is panting wetly against the pillow, feeling like he’s being split in two, like Bucky is reaching places inside Tony he didn’t think existed. It’s easily the biggest thing he’s taken up his ass but more than that, it’s about the multitude of sensations – of Bucky’s soft lips on his skin framed by the scruff around his mouth and on his chin, of his hot breath washing over his ear, the noises he’s making, the sinuous tail rubbing all up over Tony.
And then Bucky goes and
him when he’s barely settled inside Tony causing his hole to clench at the jostling of that cock inside him and - shit. He fists the bedding and makes a keening noise, pushing back into Bucky’s hips. “Ye-yes, please, I like- I want. Give it to me, Bucky. C’mon.
.” It’s a mix of begging and breathless commands.
James moves in tiny increments at first, afraid he’ll hurt his beautiful little human. He’s not at all convinced Tony will warn him in time if he rips anything. Soon though his lust builds too high to hold back. Tony utters obscenities that belie his sweet visage, egging James on to go deeper, harder, faster; pushing back onto his cock without abandon.
James starts moving in earnest. Moving in and out of Tony with enough force to make the bed rock against the wall, holding his lover in place with one hand on his hip, holding his ass up snug into the air, letting his tail play all over his soft skin. James bends over, putting his nose in Tony’s neck, sniffing the delicious scent of his arousal, all fear gone from it. It makes his stomach flutter, the idea that he was able to take that fear away, replace it with nothing but lust. He growls and bites the tendon in his little human’s shoulder, enjoying how he clenches around his cock.
Tony has been reduced to a creature of nothing but pleasure. He loves how he’s trapped under Bucky, pressed into the mattress as he’s fucked hard and damn , he’s going to have so many bruises come morning. That doesn’t deter him one iota from tilting his head and baring his neck to the demon to chomp on even more.
If it means receiving what is easily the best dicking of his life, Tony will make do with having to concealer his whole damn neck for a few weeks.
Not that he isn’t enjoying it. The fact that he has enough cognitive resources to form coherent thoughts is remarkable seeing as Bucky is doing his best to drown Tony in lust.
Time loses all meaning and all that’s left is the feeling of Bucky on top of him, inside him, surrounding him, owning him. It’s mind-blowing.
When his Tony, his Pulchellus, bares his neck in submission it makes James want to howl to the moon in victory, to cry out “mine!” and kill any challengers who vie for Tony’s hand. He doesn’t want to destroy more of his little human’s belongings though, so all he does is pull him even closer, pulling him into his lap and against James’ chest. He easily holds the weight with one arm as he fucks up into him, the movement making Tony bounce on his cock.
He uses his other arm to keep Tony balanced, keep him pressed upright against James chest. His human’s neck is at the perfect height now, and James sucks at every bit of skin he can reach, using his tongue to probe behind Tony’s ear. James grins when his Pulchellus breaks out in goosebumps, and chuckles when that’s followed by profanities. He files the knowledge away. It seems his little human doesn’t like to be reminded of anything that might seem weak, hiding it behind curses.
To appease him James uses his tail to caress the inside of Tony’s thigh, and lets it play further, until he can wrap it around that pretty little cock.
The way Bucky holds him and fucks up into him, drives Tony crazy. It’s so easy to let go, to let Bucky take his pleasure and in return give Tony pleasure, to just hold on and let himself be used without any of the disgust that comes with it. Instead, it’s almost adoring, gentle, the way Bucky touches him. It makes Tony feel precious instead of a means for someone else’ pleasure.
Perhaps that’s what lets him give up control, just rest the back of his head on Bucky’s broad shoulder and just feel .
To make matters worse, or better, the tail that was just lightly petting winds around his thigh, rubbing up against it. The spade tip sneaks between his thighs and begins sliding lengthwise along his cock, the sensation not enough for it to be anything but a tease. Tony tries to cant his hips forward but they’re trapped pretty firmly by Bucky, and he’s unable to do anything but take it.
“Pl-please- I want- make it touch me. Want you to touch me with it,” He practically begs, letting go of the last of his inhibitions. There’s something so refreshing about being with someone not bound by the limitations of humanity – both physical and the social – with whom Tony can just be .
James growls at the plea. His little human begging for more pleasure calls just as hard on his possessive instincts as baring his neck had done. It makes the heat pool low in his stomach again, but he doesn’t want this to end yet. He wants to feel his little human pulsate in pleasure around him, he wants to feel he succeeded in making him feel good. James lowers the tempo of his thrusts, making them long and deep, as he tightens the hold of his tail on Tony’s cock, stroking him up and down in time with his thrusts.
He feels something change inside of his little human, the pulsing around James' cock becomes erratic, and he adjusts the angle so he’s hitting that spot that made his little human curse the loudest.
The tip of Bucky’s tail retreats and Tony whimpers in disappointment. Before he can berate the demon for that, the tip sneaks back behind his balls and begins rubbing along his stretched out rim before pressing into his perineum, stimulating his prostate from the outside right at the same time when – incidentally or on purpose – Bucky thrusts in and his cockhead hits it from the inside dead on.
And then, that’s all she wrote.
Tony is coming with a howl, head thrown back, fingers digging into Bucky’s arm, pulling at his long hair, as he clutches at him desperately, hole clenching hard as he shoots his release into the air and on his own chest, smearing himself in it, almost blacking out with the force of his orgasm. All the while as Bucky fucks him through it.
James concentrates to hold back his orgasm until his little human is done, but he can’t. It just feels too good, that tight hole clenching and unclenching around him, Tony’s whole body moving erratically, his nails scratching James’ skin where he holds on tight. He comes for the second time that night, this time feels even more perfect than the last. He loves the feeling of filling up his little human, his come dripping down and out of his Pulchellus’ sloppy hole along James’ cock. It makes something else flare into James’ chest, something other than just possessiveness. He wants to protect this little human, he wants to clean him and take care of him and nurse that wonderful sweet hole back to how he found it.
He gently pulls Tony off his cock, wincing in sympathy when Tony hisses at the movement, then lays him down on the bed, pulling his unresisting legs apart to inspect if he has done any damage to his little human. For all the despicable things he’s ever done in his long life, this is something he would never be able to forgive himself for.
Satisfied his little human is just puffy and sore he licks up his own spills until his human is clean again. Unsure what he should do now, he lies down next to Tony, waiting for his next move.
Tony is a puddle of boneless mush on the bed, satiated and sore in all the right places. Even the slide of Bucky’s clever tongue along his throbbing hole, licking up his own come elicits nothing more than a groan of painpleasure and a twitching of limbs. The rough, wet tongue feels almost soothing after a while and his cock twitches valiantly at the dirty, hot act. Finally, after what Tony guesses is a satisfactory cleaning, the mattress shifts under the weight of the creature and he feels a line of heat all along his side, along with a light trail of something – not fingers – touching along the back of his thigh. He turns his head towards where Bucky lies and blearily opens an eye to watch those stormy grey eyes trained on him. Propping himself up slightly, he spies the tail running along his skin curiously, and dare he say a little tentatively.
It’s damn adorable to be honest.
Huffing, he falls back into the comfort of the soft pillow under his head and wiggles closer to Bucky’s heat – and yep, he’ll definitely be feeling it in the morning.
It defies all rules of a one-night engagement that Tony follows and god only knows what conventions demons have but Tony feels so damn content in Bucky’s arms that he stops being subtle about his desire and tucks his head into the crook of Bucky’s neck, reaching out to pull his arm around his waist, and tangles their legs together.
If Bucky has a problem, he can deal with Tony’s sudden transformation into an octopus seeing as he was the one to summon him in the first place and the demon kinda owes him anyway.
He knows that there’s things that need to be talked about like what the fuck and why and who exactly are you and holy shit magic is real?! but Tony is too damn tired, floating in a haze of endorphins and feeling the effects of three days of binge drinking and all of these questions can be solved in the morning. When there’s coffee. God bless JARVIS and his Wake Tony Up protocols.
Speaking of… “JARVIS, lights.” Tony mumbles before memory hits him and he sits up in a panic. “You! Hey, did you short out the mains or is it some voodoo magic shit? I need my electricity back!” He accuses, batting at Bucky’s arm.
Of all the things James thought might happen once they were both brought to completion, this didn’t even feature on the list. He can’t remember if he was ever embraced in this manner, he must’ve been, in the life before? Certainly not since his turning. He pulls his little human closer, his Tony, who has not ceased to amaze James from the moment the veil that had shrouded James’ thoughts and was a mark of his captivity had lifted. This was better than all the things before, better than spilling himself, better than giving his Tony pleasure. Holding him close, being held , was overwhelming to the point that he felt his eyes prickle with moisture.
Until Tony suddenly pulls from his embrace and yells something about magic. James up blinks at him, needing some time to switch from the dreamlike state to this.
“There is no magic,” he says carefully, hoping it’s the right thing to say and Tony will lie with him again. His little human’s frown however spells trouble, and James sits up as well with a regretful sigh. “There’s no magic,” he repeats, opening his hand and letting a little flame play on his palm. “It’s manipulating the energy that surrounds us at all times. You could learn it too, Pulchellus.” He closes his fist to make the flame disappear again.
“You can repair your jarvis in the morning. Come.” James lies down again and stretches his arm in invitation. “You need to recuperate.” He doesn't know what a jarvis is, but it can't be more important than his Tony.
Bucky’s reply does nothing more than give birth to a thousand different questions about what exactly he means by
could do it too and pyrokinesis in bed and... his train of thought cuts off when the nubile tail wraps around his wrist and tugs him down towards Bucky. He goes – not unwillingly – and finds the buzzing of his mind quieting when being pressed against the solid warm body, the scent of something earthy and pewter-like mixed with something smoky and ozone-like fills his head when he buries his nose in the inviting dip of Bucky’s shoulder.
“At least bring my electricity back on. We’ll need the aircon. It gets hot like burning here and you’re not helping,” Tony grumbles, unable to let it lie, using his finger to poke at Bucky’s ribs incessantly until the demon does some… mumbo jumbo energy manipulation shit with a put upon sigh and the whirr of his appliances – especially the blessed air conditioning – starts up again.
He hums in contentment, falling asleep to the soothing sound of JARVIS saying, “
Beta systems online. Beginning diagnosis.
” and the rise and fall of a warm chest against him, and a stray thought of being proven right even despite the minor set back of a demon appearing and temporarily derailing his ‘Magic isn’t real’ hypothesis before actually supporting him.
He really needs to drag the demon down to his lab and quiz him on what he means by energy manipulation seeing as Tony knows all there is to know about the kinds of energy at their disposal and if anyone can make heads or tails of it, then it’s Tony fucking Stark.
But that’s all for tomorrow.
For now, Tony sleeps feeling safe for the first time in more than a decade.
Demon!Bucky and Puchellus!Tony will return in a more plotty Part 2 of the series which picks up right where this ends. Stay tuned!