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Fucked My Way to the Top

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Tony stares in confusion at the man in his workshop—though perhaps man isn’t the right word for the creature that stands before him.

He’s tall and muscular with skin that looks like it should be golden, but instead is an ashy grey, and when he shifts Tony could swear he sees the outline of bone pressed to skin.

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in here?” he demands, hand closing around a crowbar that he wields as a warning to stay back.

The man smiles and Tony shivers; there’s a flash of black bones under grey skin, like his skull is fighting for freedom, and then his face is back to...well, normal-ish.

“I am death Tony, I’ve come to reap your soul and take you to the afterlife,” he explains, voice low and melodic.

Tony stares, stunned, and then shakes his head, “No thanks.”

Death grins and then laughs, shaking his head wryly, “You don’t really get a choice Tony,” he explains, “It’s just your time.”

Tony scowls and steps back, lifting the crowbar and wielding it like a sword, motions for Death to go. “Not happening buddy,” he snaps, “now get out of here.”

Death studies him, head titled to the side as though Tony is some curious being that he’s never seen before and then sighs, “I’m sorry Tony, but I can’t leave you. It’s time to go.”

Tony scoffs, “Fuck you man, I’m not going anywhere.”

Death’s brow furrows for a moment, puzzling over Tony’s words before he lifts his haunting gaze and nods, “Very well, I agree to your terms.”

Tony stares because—“I’m sorry what?”

Death nods, “Your terms—you may fuck me and have one more year of life.”

Tony gapes at the man, speechless.

Now admittedly, the man, creature, Death-thing before him is handsome, but is he really willing to...

“Where am I going?” he asks, “Heaven or Hell?”

Death hums thoughtfully, gaze distant for a moment, “Hell, it appears,” he muses softly.

Well...that’s not good.

Tony shifts in place, lowering the crowbar slowly. “And if I fuck you I get another year of life and I can try to earn my way into Heaven?” he asks, distantly wondering if he’s lost his goddamned mind.

Death nods.

The crowbar clangs to the floor, ringing loudly in the confines of the space between them.

“Well then, let’s do it,” Tony says with a desperate little laugh. What does he have to lose after all?

Just his soul.

When Death kisses him it tastes of myrrh and brimstone and when his large hands cup Tony’s face to deepen the kiss Tony could swear it burns just a little.

Death kisses with an eagerness that surprises Tony—a hunger in his touch that rouses an urge in Tony to touch back, to kiss and taste and ruin.

He finds himself kissing back eagerly, delving into Death’s mouth, hands gripping at his narrow waist, pushing against him till those broad shoulders bang into the wall and Death makes a soft sound of wanting in his throat that sends a thrill through Tony.

He rolls his hips forward and oh...

“Is that for me?” he teases, running a hand down the broad chest until he can cup the bulge in Death’s trousers. The man moans and nods, hips bucking up into Tony’s touch, lids heavy over dark, wanting eyes.

“What should I call you?” Tony asks, rubbing slowly over Death’s cock, smirking when he groans and arches into it. Death opens his mouth to respond and Tony tightens his grip just to see the absolutely lewd way the man’s head tips back against the wall, eyes falling shut as he moans loudly.

“S-Steve, I was called Steve,” the man tells him, voice catching as Tony rubs on his cock harder. It’s odd, his skin almost has a golden hue to it, a pink tinge to his cheeks that makes him look almost human.

“Well then Steve, why don’t you get on your knees and put that mouth to good use?” he suggests with a wry smirk, hand leaving Steve’s cock to undo his jeans. Steve’s gaze fixes on Tony’s cock, a hungry look in his eye, and then he’s on his knees and reaching for it.

Tony moans when Steve’s hand closes around his cock and strokes once, twice, three times before he leans in and licks the head. Tony curses and watches as Steve opens his mouth wider and slides down Tony’s cock till it’s in his throat and Tony’s wide eyed and moaning at the sight.

He winds his fingers through blonde hair and tugs, guiding Steve over his cock again and again, groaning as Steve’s tongue laves over the length of his cock, eyes hooded as he slurps noisily.

When heat pulses in his gut, he pulls Steve off and lets them both catch their breath before he leans over and fumbles through a drawer in his work stand till he finds the lube.

“Up,” he orders, grabbing Steve’s arm and tugging him up till he can shove him against the work table, hands fumbling as he strips away the layers that cover Steve’s glorious form.

He’s a god like specimen of human(?) perfection; lean waist and broad shoulders and a cock so thick it makes Tony pause for just a moment, reconsidering his options here.

He wants that inside him...but more than that right now he wants to fuck Steve and see if that golden glow to his skin will get any brighter.

They stare at each other for a moment before he lunges forward and wraps a hand around Steve’s cock, staring avidly as it twitches and leaks, Steve’s moans filling the air between them.

A pink blush grows on Steve’s face as his chest heaves, moaning louder as Tony strokes his cock hard and fast. When his hips shudder up, Tony lets him go and then slicks his fingers and starts circling at Steve’s rim, watching intently as Steve keens and moans, chest slick with sweat.

“That’s it sweetheart, feels good huh?” Tony croons, “mmm how long has it been since you felt this good?” he asks, pushing a finger in when Steve doesn’t respond.

Blue eyes open wide at the pressure of Tony’s finger sinking into him, mouth open wide in a silent gasp.

“How long Steve?” Tony asks again, fucking his finger in slow and steady.

“S-seventy years,” Steve moans, hips rolling down into Tony’s fingers, gasping and whining as Tony adds a second one, moaning loudly when they’re scissored and stretching him open.

“Such a long time to go without anyone touching you,” Tony murmurs, “poor thing.”

He adds a third finger and curls them, seeking, seeking...


Steve jolts and spasms, muscles rippling as Tony rubs relentlessly on his prostate, watching as Steve’s cock leaks and jumps.

Tony keeps it up another few moments before sliding his fingers free and slicking up his cock instead, watching as Steve whines and rolls his hips, desperate for stimulation.

His fingers slide against Steve’s hips as he grips onto them and pushes his cock past that tight right of muscle that has them both gasping and moaning.

It’s so tight and hot he can barely stand it, cock throbbing as he fucks hard into Steve, cursing as Steve moans and rolls his hips down into Tony’s thrusts.

“Fuck, look at you,” he groans, “taking it so good.”

Steve keens and throws his head back as Tony nails his prostate, over and over again, “Please!! Please Tony, please!”

Tony growls and hammers into him, the work table slamming into the wall loudly with each thrust. One hand slides up Steve’s body to pinch at his nipples, watching in awe as his skin turns golden and pink and perfectly human.

He toys with them as he fucks into Steve, every keening gasp from Steve’s lips like music to his ears. Steve moans and pleads, blond hair in disarray, sweaty and sticking to his brow, lips petal pink and slick.

Tony abandons his nipples and instead strokes that thick cock, moaning praise when Steve shouts and comes, white splattering against his chest. “Fuck! Goddamn Steve, so fucking gorgeous,” he moans, stroking harder on his cock as his own thrusts grow wild and uncoordinated.

Fire races up his spine and bursts behind his eyes in white light as he comes, shouting Steve’s name, spilling hot and hard into Steve.

Tony collapses forward and bites Steve’s shoulder gently, mouthing gently at his sweaty skin as he grows soft and slips out of him with a low groan.

When he opens his eyes again he’s stunned to see Steve’s skin a pale gold, flushed pink all down his chest, nipples pink and pebbled from arousal. He licks one, just to see Steve shudder and moan softly and then surprise them both by kissing him.

They’re quiet as they re dress, and Tony thinks Steve will leave right away, but he’s surprised to find him lingering, looking uncertain. “I...thank you,” Steve murmurs, hand rubbing over the back of his neck.

Tony snorts, “For what? Fucking you?”

Steve peers down at his hands, turning them over before showing them to Tony, “For making me human. I haven’t been like this in...many years.”

Tony nods uncertainly, “Well, you’re welcome then.” He hesitates a moment, “You wanna stay awhile?” he offers.

Steve nods and smiles softly at him, following along eagerly when Tony guides him upstairs and into his bed.

They talk a little, until Tony succumbs to his exhaustion and when he wakes up in the morning, Steve’s gone.

A year passes and Tony changes his life; SI stops manufacturing weapons, he donates to charity and feeds the hungry and gives housing to the homeless and then one night, when he’s half asleep and dozing in bed with a new prototype for cancer treatment, Steve comes back.

Tony stares at him, silent for a long moment.

“Still hell, huh?”

Steve nods sadly.

Tony grins.

“Same deal as before?”

Steve smiles faintly and nods.

Tony crooks a finger and smirks, “Come here big guy and let me ride that glorious cock of yours.”

Steve grins.

Every year he comes back, and every year he stays a little longer, until eventually Steve stays, human and alive once again, and this time when Death comes for Tony, they go together.