Oh, hey guys, I'm a little fuzzy on the rules- what are we supposed to do with a brand-new thread if nobody has anything to contribute ...

sit and wait til someone gets some content. I can always repost stuff from /r/ ?

We managed to keep not one but two KKBB thread without much content.
I bet we'll be able to do the same.

Have a request from the Iron Man (Movie) Kink Meme.

Ivan/Hammer

"You bring me my bird, I give you reward"

Hammer finally gets Ivan the right bird, Ivan rewards him with an amazing blowjob (and maybe even more).

“Listen,” he paces, waving his hands erratically and adjusting his glasses for possibly the thirtieth time, “I’m counting on you, Ivan, you said you had this, you said ‘no problem’, but I’m getting nervous, I really don’t think you do have this, I need you to--”

And then he’s staring up at the ceiling - except he can’t see it at all really, since his glasses skittered to the floor when he was pushed down, and in any case, a giant Russian mountain of a man is blocking his view.

“Mee-an,” Ivan hums, accent rumbling with not-so-pearly whites grinning around his toothpick. “I think you got to calm down a little bit.”

He’s starting to maybe regret leaving Jack to loiter outside - there’s an oversized hand taking hold of his collar, and another one tugging his clean, pressed shirt out of his pants.

“Ivan, what, what? What are you doing, what are you doing, this is--”

Tattooed fingers tapping against his stomach, undoing his belt.

“--completely inappropriate and I, I really--”

Pulling his shirt, and his head, upward, and he’s looking at that toothpick again.

“You are talking too much.” Ivan grumbles, staring down over the edge of his glasses. Awfully nice, those, for a guy like him.

“Ivan”, Justin gasps, reaching a tentative, flailing hand up to tap at the bulky wrist responsible for suspending him half-kneeling near the larger man’s waist. “Let go. This is ridiculous, you can’t just - I’m not some-”

“You want.” Ivan shrugs. “I give.” Crinkled scars tilting upward, toothpick slipping as he grinned. “No problem.”

“But I don’t want--”

“Too much talking.”

“Ivan, I don’t want-- I’ll call security--”

There was that hand again, shoving a finger to his lips.

“You be quiet,” he says, “or I make you quiet.”

Justin makes several small, incoherent sounds of frustration, accompanied by facial expressions that might have belonged on a suffocating goldfish. He flounders and attempts to force Vanko’s hand out of its grip on his collar, gasping finally and falling limp as he notices Ivan simply staring at him, free hand latched in his belt loop like he was waiting for the goddamn bus.

“You are finished?”

“No, Ivan, I’m not finished, I’m really not going to just -- mmmmphh!”

His voice is suddenly inhibited by yellowed, tattooed fingers shoving between his lips, and he nearly gags. The man’s probably never had a manicure in his life, not to mention all that ink in his skin and motor oil and grease and petting that bird, and he tries to yank his head back only to discover Ivan’s other hand now tangled in his hair, holding him firmly in place.

The man himself has somewhere along the line shifted so he’s crouching on the balls of his feet, Hammer on his hands and knees in front of him. Justin attempts to scrabble again at Ivan’s wrist, only to find his mouth sliding helplessly against the Russian’s fingers as he squirms.

“Ummph!”

“I tell you,” Ivan grins again, “I make you quiet.”

He’s struggling harder now, trying to twist his head to the side, shake Ivan off, something; but Ivan snaps him back forward almost immediately, making his teeth tense down on the fingers in his mouth.

The toothpick shifts again, lips holding it pursing. “You bite, I break your nose.” The hand in his mouth twists in spite of the sounds he makes against it, thumb tapping the tip of his nose in emphasis. A flash of metal again as Ivan smiles. “I tell everyone it was terrible accident.”

Justin wants to say something along the lines of how that doesn’t even make sense, because no one would believe you over me, it’s my goddamn company were sitting in - except all that comes out is a muffled whine. He’s kept struggling, pushing back against Ivan’s hand in his hair - and suddenly realized how his mouth is watering, neatly creased suit pants growing too tight.

Ivan hasn’t moved at all, just watching Justin’s mouth dragging across his hand - the way his skin is definitely flushing, eyes flinching closed. He likes this, he’s always liked this kind of thing - and he almost chases after those thick fingers when the bigger man pulls them away with a wet pop.

“I-Ivan...”

The man is inspecting his digits, wriggling them like he’d just touched something unidentified and interesting. Justin slumps further into the floor, feeling suddenly overheated and not quite as concerned for the dirt that might be getting on his shirtsleeves.

“Ivan, this is entirely- ah - uncalled for, and, and, I think you should stop, and maybe get back to work, and I’ll just, um, I’ll just... go...”

“You still do not listen.” Ivan says, and it’s in this very matter-of-fact broken English sort of way that doesn’t at all indicate how he’s taking rough handfuls of Justin’s hair again, tugging him forward to a much closer - and lower - proximity than before. “I do not work if you do not stop with talking.”

“Um, uh, no, come on now, Ivan, I really should just go, you don’t need me here, I can see that, I r-really should... I should... just....”

Ivan’s not listening - Justin doesn’t know for sure if he ever does. A tattooed hand is fiddling with its owner’s belt and the button of his jeans almost patiently, and Justin gnaws his lip and notices for the first time (well, maybe not the first time) exactly how large the bulge in that fabric is.

He must have made some small sound, too, because Ivan is laughing and mumbling something in that stupid Russian of his, rolling his toothpick with a wet sound as Justin looks up.

“I said, you do not talk, but noises - okay.” He tugs his jeans down just enough to pull himself out, and - ohh.

Justin’s mouth goes dry.

“Look,” he manages, trying to lift himself against Ivan’s hand even as the man rocks back to kneel, weight on his booted heels. “I, I, I’m going to, I think I should, um, how, h-how do you even... carry that around...?”

He fully intends to do something sane, like maybe try to fight back again, or yell for help - except his pants feel really, really tight, and his hands don’t seem to want to do anything but reach forward and skitter over the pulsing skin of Ivan’s cock. The man doesn’t pull him, just lets him come forward and drag his tongue across the tip.

He wants this, except he shouldn’t, and how did Ivan even know how bad this would affect him, he didn’t have him pegged as that kind of guy, except maybe the glasses, how, how--

Ivan waits until he’s fastened his lips around the tip of his erection before slamming forward, wrenching Justin’s head up in the same movement like he was fucking practiced at it. The executive inhales sharply through his nose and his throat clicks once as it attempts to adjust to Ivan’s girth - the larger man seems unsurprised at his lack of a gag reflex.

“One thing I learn,” he murmurs as he pulls Justin back again, slower this time, his tone like he’s talking about the goddamn weather, “when you are person who talks all the time - means you like to use your mouth.”

Justin only moans in response, bracing his hands against the floor and rolling forward, this time without the heavy pressure of the Russian’s hand. Ivan hits the back of his throat, and he spreads his own legs slightly at the sensation, hoping to adjust against the taut pull of his pants and failing miserably. He scrapes his fingers against the white floor, trying to shift his weight enough to use one hand on himself, not wanting or able to stop working his mouth against Ivan’s cock. He’s moved again, though, as Ivan rocks up onto his knees and takes Justin’s already dripping mouth with him.

Awkwardly slanted as he now is against the floor, Justin is left clinging to the sides of Ivan’s jeans for balance, held up almost entirely by the criminal’s hard grip on his hair. He can’t do much of his own moving - not that it matters, as Ivan seems entirely content to simply fuck his mouth.

Justin has no breath to complain, hearing a dull hum coming from somewhere in the Russian’s throat, feeling every inch of how his mouth is stretched to accommodate, jaw taut and aching. He whines as Ivan’s thrusts shorten, raking over his tongue; he squirms at the wet sounds he’s making, reminded with every movement of the painful erection straining against his pants. The friction alone is growing to be too much - and the pulling on his hair stings sharply as Ivan tugs him in as far as he can, coarse hair barely brushing his nose.

The muffled shriek that Justin begins on is almost immediately choked by Ivan filling his mouth, coming suddenly and with a low snarl that makes Justin’s hips rock violently against the floor. He doesn’t need much else, with Ivan’s cock pushed so far into his mouth that cum is dripping past his lips and down his chin - he comes, hard, white spots crackling under his eyelids, and Ivan tugs away from him fast enough that his teeth snap together roughly enough to hurt.

All he hears for a moment is a dull buzzing sound, curled up and still shivering through aftershocks of his orgasm. After a moment he manages to sit up, sliding backwards slightly; he tugs a white handkerchief from his pocket and holds it against his lips, throat trying to remember how to swallow the hot mouthful of cum still coating his teeth. He hears the clinking of Ivan redoing his belt, and decides he’s glad that he can’t see quite enough without his glasses to worry about making eye contact.

He assesses the damage methodically - he’s a sticky, uncomfortable mess, pants most definitely ruined, glasses missing somewhere in the vicinity, and aside from his scalp and jaw throbbing dully, he tastes the very faint tang of blood somewhere against his lips. He prods his tongue against the corner of his mouth experimentally - and hisses, finding a small slit of newly broken skin there.

The slightly blurry figure of Ivan is standing, and then walking, hands stuffed in what might be his back pockets as he steps over Justin’s legs to get to the desk. Justin’s eyes squint and follow him, watching him open a drawer, shut it, and open another one to rustle through it.

“What’re you doing?” Justin’s voice cracks, much hoarser than it had been before. He fidgets, clears his throat, and it still feels rubbed raw.

Ivan only replies with a grunt, not finding what he was looking for, and moving on to another drawer. Justin huffs, testing the stinging edge of his mouth with his thumb as he tries to hunt down his lost glasses.

He sees them, finally, half-opened underneath a nearby chair. He hears Ivan slam another drawer shut as he reaches for them, wincing at the rather disgusting sensation that moving brings. Thankfully he keeps a change of clothes in his office...

Justin sighs, staggering awkwardly to his feet and sliding his glasses onto his face - and nearly jumping out of his skin as Ivan taps him on the shoulder.

“Ahh!” he yelps, blinking and turning his head to meet the Russian man’s... collarbone. He looks up. “W-what? What is it?”

The man is brandishing a new toothpick, and sets it between his teeth, grinning. He’s pulled his hair back, too, sometime in the last few minutes.

“You go.” he says, waving haphazardly toward the door. “I work.”

Justin sniffs, crinkling his nose at being addressed so bluntly - but his jaw is developing into a dull stretch of ache, inhibiting him from really wanting to say anything.

“Fine,” he huffs, scooping up his discarded jacket and positioning it carefully over his front. He watches Ivan clamber back up the scaffolding to the drone he’d been working on, thick fingers tapping at computer keys with a deftness that the contractor had never bothered to expect.

Tonguing the cut Ivan left him with almost involuntarily, Justin eyes those broad shoulders again and pouts. He dislikes being ignored, immensely, and lets himself contemplate whether it would be worth it to comment on how he still doesn’t like the whole “drone” idea - but he aches, and wants a drink to ease his throat. Attempting to rake his hair down from its disheveled state, he fidgets briefly in front of a nearby screen before making his way to the door.

And pauses.

“Ivan?”

The bigger man cocks his head over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

“I still want those done by the end of the week.”

Surprised I've never seen Hammer/Veidt.

>>42265

I feel like Hammer would be Veidt's bumbling, incompetent son who, unlike Tony, failed to rise above his father's shadow-- so he decides to stick it to his dad by going into weapons manufacturing. Only he sucks at that too, so Veidt views his endeavors with amusement more than anything else.

And then Hammer's frustrations boil over until it culminates in a kind-of rape attempt that goes horribly wrong because his dad is totally expecting it, and naturally Veidt gains the upper hand and proves why he's the boss, even in this.

Yup.

>>42261>>42262
Huhhhhghghghghnnng

I posted tons of stuff in the /r/ thread with ivan/justin, even something I've written, if you're interested.

AND A SHITTY GRAPHIC I MADE YAY

>>42256
I LOVE YOU JAPAN

Delivery from the /r/ thread.

>>41306
>>41305
>>41304
>>41303
>>41302
>>41301
>>41300
>>40004

The anatomy in this one is crap, you have my apologies.

>>42305
>>42306
hnrgh. awesome. i applaud you for these.

Where is the Tony/Hammer hate sex at? Bring it!

Ivan uses his drones to hold Hammer down while he plays with him.

>>42329
this needs to happen
>>42288
abracadabra is Korean

>>42329
PSSSH. I LOVE IT.

>>42329
do want!!!

not allowing this thread to be on anything but the first page.

>>42305
>>42306
I bet the burd watches.

>>42605

Wouldn't expect any more of it. Its head tuft goes up when Ivan gets an erection.

>>42619
Cockatoos are insane. Mature Cockatoos are jealous fuckers.

>>42619
why do i find that adorable
stupid adorable cockatoos

>>42619

Off to see the movie and count how may erections Ivan had during the movie.

>>42319
yeah, I'm gonna have to second this.

>>42715
i lold

STOP!
HAMMER TIME!
*is shot*

Is Hammer the one getting love here? I have no idea. But don't care, because godDAMN.

>>42810

>>42827
I have been expecting this to happen and I STILL choked on my Dr. Pepper, I was laughing so hard. You win. At everything.

>>42827
I facepalmed so hard.

And I loved every minute of it

Perhaps it's just me, but the whole movie I expected him to have a helmet that runs on lemons.

>>42837
in no way is his brain impaired
it's just not true
he's smarter than you
(and he's better looking, too)

>>42837
Now I want cross-over fic where Zaphod ends ups in the IM-verse and meets Hammer, who is, of course, fascinated by the alternate version of himself who just happens to be President of the goddammed GALAXY.

>>42949
YES

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ef5afHc7cQU

>>42954
not sure how i feel about that lol.

>>42265
>>42810
>>42827
Halt. Hammerveidt.

>>42813
I'd like to think so. So, yes. :D

kinda relevant to our interests:

>>42260
this needs to happen ok.

-insert suggestive content-

ok so. a friend of mine and i were talking about justin sucking on stuff. and she got th tht ivan should fuck his mouth with a popsicle.

Make this happen.

First time posting here so forgive me if I've botched anything.

Not Hammer, but still Rockwell <3

K I have it in my mind to try and write some Tony/Hammer. Anyone got prompt suggestions?

>>43109
There are some good prompts here:
http://ironman-kink.livejournal.com/369.html


Have one

Pairing: Justin/Tony

Prompt/Explanation: Let's be honest - Justin actually wishes he was one of Tony's inner circle; he tries so hard to make it seem like they're old pals in the movie (obviously only making himself look like a douche) This could make for interesting fic, seriously...C:

Title: Untitled (WIP Name: Roots)
Fandom: Iron Man 2
Characters: Justin/Tony
Warnings: Cursing, Oral, Blackmail
Other Notes: Set in a sort of AU where Ivan survived and ended up in prison with Justin, shit happened, they escaped, they "romanced" in Russia, Justin came back to the USA as Daniel Shepherd and built a new life from scratch, he married his boss (Angela Law, the head of Law Industries, Formerly Known as Hammer Industries), had a son with her, Law Ind and Stark Ind merged, so Justin works for Tony as well. That's pretty much all you "need" to know for this story... Also, KAT Tattoo = Russian criminals were branded with K A T on their face before criminals made it "honourable" or w/e to have tatts.

I needed to redo my roots; that was probably the only problem with living a new life, I had to keep up this new image, I had to keep dyeing my hair blond, I had to keep wearing coloured contacts, and I had to keep this stupid little beard. Maybe Angie was right, maybe I should have shaved it off...
“Daniel.” that wasn’t my name, not my real one, but I turned anyway, giving my boss the most charming smile I could muster as he entered the bathroom,
“Mr Stark.” I nodded, looking my former-rival over and admiring the way his tailored suit fit, showing off his physique. We were on a business trip, I wasn’t sure why he’d decided to take me instead of his actual assistant, but I wasn’t about to question a bonus in my pay.

He strode to the other side of me, loosening his tie and pulling it over his head, placing it on the counter between the sinks we were stood at. I turned back to my reflection and touched the scruff of hair on my chin,
"It suits you," I heard, turning to frown at my boss, "makes you look less serious." Stark offered with a shrug, I smiled and watched him splash some water on his face,
"Thanks Mr Stark." I said simply, not really sure how to respond.
"Come on Danny, call me Tony, we're past formalities now," he smirked, placing his cufflinks on the side and shrugging his jacket off. "You don't mind if I call you Danny, do you? Now that we're not /actually/ working." I hated people calling me Danny, it was hard enough not being called /Justin/, the fact that people wouldn't even call me by my /fake/ given name just /bothered/ me.

"Sure I don't Anthony." I sighed, well he was my boss, he'd brought me out here and paid me more than I was due, I wasn't about to shun his desires now.
"Tony," he corrected, I smiled, showing him I'd made a mental note of it; I carded my fingers through my hair and returned my attention once more to my reflection. "You're so prissy, you know that?" Tony huffed against my ear, pulling me to fully face him and pressing his lips to mine roughly.
My mind reeled and my eyes widened, I did the first thing I could think of to do, I stepped back and threw my fist, feeling his nose crack under my hand. "Oh shit..." I gasped as he stumbled back, clutching his nose, he checked his fingers for blood, there wasn't much, I hadn't broken it.

"Woah..." he said quietly, testing his nose a few more times as I stood gaping at him like an idiot.
"Tony... Mr Stark... I am /SO/ sorry! I... I didn't mean to... but you... you surprised me!" I rambled, growing incoherent as my obvious shock seemed to settle in,
"Shepherd, it's /fine/." He said, but his words didn't quite sink in and I continued to babble.
"Oh god, I can't believe I punched my /boss/," I couldn't believe I'd punched /Tony Stark/. Oh jeez, oh god. Then something hit me, "Oh god... please don't fire me!" I pleaded, lurching forwards and grabbing his wrists, looking at him pathetically and shaking as I clung to him, "I swear to god I'll do /anything/." I added, quickly regretting it as I'd remembered /why/ I'd punched him in the first place.

I sputtered and stammered as a wicked smirk grew on Tony's face, dread washing over me when he looked down and began unfastening his trousers.
"M-M-Mr S-Stark!" I cowered, considering running out of the bathroom and finding somewhere to hide,
"Danny, Danny, Danny," he chuckled, shaking his head as he leant against the counter, pushing his trousers and boxers down enough to expose himself, "you /did/ say /anything/... Now I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be a 'man of your word'," he finger-quoted at me before beginning to stroke himself, cocking an eyebrow and watching me through the corner of his eye.

I avoided looking at /it/, staring towards the door and wondering why the hell nobody had come in yet, after all, it /was/ a "public" hotel bathroom,
"Nobody is going to walk in Danny, it's just you and me," Tony said, drawing my attention back to see him licking his palm slowly. "You, me and /whatever/. /I/. /Want/." He purred, palming himself with that slick hand; I gulped nervously and adjusted my collar,
"Mr Stark... T-Tony," I almost whimpered at him, watching his hand glide up and down his shaft slowly. God it had been so long since I'd touched another man. "I... I have a wife..." I said, more likely trying to convince myself than him, but he did stop touching himself.
"She's pretty and all Danny, but I'm not really thinking about her right now," Tony murmured, turning his head to me slightly, "want to know what I /am/ thinking about?" he asked, watching me intently, smirking when I nodded dumbly.

His hand stilled briefly as he watched me, "I'm thinking..." he began, my tongue darting out to wet my lips, "about that pretty mouth of yours," he continued, beginning to stroke himself again and throwing his head back, "sucking my dick..." He didn't even seem shocked when I sank to my knees in front of him.
I licked across the tips of his fingers, moving from the base they covered to the leaking tip, taking it into my mouth and giving it a gentle, teasing suck. His hand moved to tangle in my hair, coaxing me to take more into my mouth; I did as he wanted, smiling around his girth as I took him in with, admittedly practiced, ease.
He wasn’t the biggest I’d had, not by a long shot, but he was impressive no less, twitching as I hummed around him, the hand in my hair tightening.

"Shit... you've done this before..." he panted, chest heaving as he stared at the ceiling, transfixed on a tile or something, it was hard to tell. I sucked harder as his hips began to move slowly, fucking my mouth and being surprisingly gentle about it.
The head of his cock bumped the back of my throat and he seemed pretty impressed with my gag reflex (or lack thereof), I loved this feeling, missed it even. God damn, it had been so long since Ivan...
I had one hand braced on his hip as I bobbed my head in time with his slow thrusts, the other had long since found its place in my boxers, stroking my own aching length as I moaned around his dick.

"Fuck... fuck you're amazing..." he murmured above me, thrusts growing a little jerkier, requiring the hand on his hip to actually work at keeping him from hurting me.
I pulled back; dragging my tongue along the underside and sucking at the head, loving the way he whimpered and tried to push his way back in. I was off completely, tonguing the precum slicked tip and huffing a quiet chuckle as he growled at me, a hand grabbing my jaw and forcing my mouth open, shoving himself into me until my nose was pressed against dark curls.
It was all too sudden, his seed flooding my mouth and coating my throat, his fist tightening in my hair, his body shuddering as he rode out his orgasm, rolling his hips toward me. I squeezed myself, stroking quicker now and getting /so damned close/ to my own orgasm, freezing when he called out my name.

"/Justin/!" My /actual/ name. I choked a little, cum dribbling past my lips as he pulled out; patting my head affectionately like I was some sort of animal. I swallowed loudly and glanced up at him, licking my lips and watching him with my nerves scrawled across my face like a KAT tattoo.
"Huh?" I let out dumbly a few moments later, it was the best I could think of, Tony Stark had just shot his load /in my mouth/ and called me by my /actual/ name. I'd like to see /you/ think of something better.
He was leaning pretty heavily on the counter, looking down at me hazily and smirking, “Something wrong Shepherd? Or is that /Hammer/?” he laughed, no bitterness hinting at his voice,
"Shit..." I muttered, wiping my mouth on my sleeve and slumping on the ground, him calling me Justin wasn't just an accident.

I cursed and berated myself quietly as I sat there, Tony still leaning against the counter like it was the only thing keeping him upright, which was probably the case, given the blatant shaking of his legs.
"I've got a proposal for you," Tony huffed, carefully lowering himself to the ground and tucking himself away. "I know you've got a wife and a kid, so, with your cooperation, I'm not going to break up a family to send you /back/ to prison." He drawled, I sighed in relief, I was safe,
"And your proposal?" I asked, dreading whatever he had in mind. He mulled it over carefully before answering,
"Be the secretary I take with me on business trips permanently, you'll get paid the wage you're getting for this, so don't worry about that." He explained and I frowned, that was it? That didn't really sound like much, besides, what was /he/ getting out of—
"Oh..." I breathed, looking at him with slight alarm; he'd want to do that again, /whenever he wanted/.

I went silent, looking at my hands and trying to think this through, on the one hand, I'd be some sort of /sex slave/ for my former-rival, but on the other, I could lose everything... /again/...
I looked up as he stood, picking up his tie and his cufflinks, tucking them into a pocket, "I'll let you think on that, I expect an answer before we leave in the morning." He said sharply, adjusting himself and striding out of the bathroom.
I grabbed the counter and pulled myself to my feet, grimacing at the uncomfortably sticky sensation within my underwear and realising that I'd been so /shocked/ by Tony realising who I was that I'd not even /noticed/ my own /orgasm/.

I stared at my reflection, wiping a pearly trail from my chin and bracing my hands on the counter. "Damn..." I muttered, "How the hell did I get myself into this mess?" I asked my reflection as I washed my hands, running them through my hair and tugging at it afterwards, cursing under my breath. I couldn't go back to prison; for one, Tony was right, I'd lose my family, I couldn't put them through that; I wouldn't have Ivan there this time either, and just the concept of being /completely alone,/ possibly in /the same prison/... I shuddered at the very thought of it. It was hard enough surviving when I /did/ have almost 200lbs of Russian muscle as a buffer against the other inmates.
I rubbed my face in mild despair, I didn't have a choice, and I don't know why I'd even /contemplated/ thinking it over, what else was there? Run away from /Iron Man/? I groaned once more and splashed water on my face, taking a deep breath and turning away from the sink. I'd made my decision.

Tony was getting changed when I entered his suite, he was sat on the bed in his shirt and pants, his arc reactor on display as he fiddled with it curiously, brows knitted together in concentration.
"She can't find out..." they barely even felt like my words, autonomous and monotone as they were. He looked up at me with an arched brow, leaning back with his hands on the bed, nodding after a second, 'she'll never know'. He never voiced it, but I knew (or hoped, at least) that was his answer, crossing the room and climbing onto his lap, straddling him as I pushed him down into the sheets. I was really beginning to /hate/ that bloody smirk.

>>43118

Uh, this was pretty hot.

I'm going to say though, now I'm interested in Harmmer and Ivan's time in prison.

>>43118
Moar!!!

>>43032

I know! I was like the heck is up with Hammer and that random lolipop?! Oral fixtation much Hammer?

>>43122
This needs to happen yesterday.

Why has the oral fixation + his line of work not produced more gunplay up in here?

>>43150

I'm just going to be a nerd here, and say that Oral fixation often manifests itself trough excessive talking, convulsive need for objects in the mouth and having a "sweet tooth" (and more).

Based on this, both Hammer and Ivan have oral fixations.

That said, give me the porn people!

>>43205
I second this.

I LOVE THIS THREAD.
so I found this over at the kink meme, its mostly rambling but hey, at least its something.

Title: Monologue (1/1)
Fandom: Iron Man 2
Pairing: Ivan Vanko x Justin Hammer
Warnings: meh. justin babbling but that isn't news. there's sorta some 'd'aww' if you look real hard.

It sort of turns into a ritual, after a while. I can't think of any other way to describe it. it's just a long process of delivery and succumbing to thirst and desire. Swapping spit with the abherent lips and moisture traveling from place to place.
Don't ask me how this got started, I didn't really want it to happen, so I apparently keep trying to tell myself. Contact with hands and bodies, pressing hard against cement, against metal, against porcelain, against linoleum; ammonia, gasoline and musk filling our nostrils. Heavy breathing and the sighs with carbon dioxide escaping with all of our little breaths.
It's always a ritual. No matter what, sex is just something that 'just happens' anymore. There's never any personal triumph, or meaning; just a couple of people's hormones jumping into what we were apparently put on this planet to do. That's what I just kept telling myself the first few times that we decided to just go and run with it.
To know what he thinks would be like a blind baby trying to read Greek in braille. He never speaks half of the time, and, if he does, it's in Russian for God's sake. He's leading me down this road of insecurities and confusion and 'what if?''s. Maybe it's his way of communication. I'd rather not think about it. Something tells me I won't like what I hear in the end. I'm gonna milk this for what it's worth.
These intimacies keep my sanity in tact, often. I don't have anything to worry about, considering he seems okay with fucking my brains out a couple times a week. I feel a sense of worth, with it, and, (if I'm lucky, that is,) maybe to him it's more than just a lay while he's in captivity here. He looks like he's been to prison a few times, maybe he just knows what he's doing. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe it's something more.

Fat chance.

This ritual is one for the masses. Starts with a little foreplay, the big show, the main attraction, what have you, and the big finish, the cou de gras. If I'm lucky he sticks around for a while afterward, or just gets the hell out of dodge. But I don't want to make it a red flag that it actually matters to me. To be honest, I don't think he could care less. So that debauch happens, skin against skin, calloused and well worn hands ripping my clothes off with ease, in a closet, a back room I don't remember existing, or on a toolbox for Christ's sake. Not that I'm complaining or anything, I just want his cock in my ass and mouth.

Back to explaining.

I think he forgets he's pulling and yanking at my hair, sometimes. It turns into a shouting match, then all kinds of physical all over again. I remember him telling me that I like to use my mouth, considering I run it so much, but he's the same with his Goddamn hands. Aggressive bastard. He just starts prodding and fumbling and clawing inside my ass like a kid digging around in a cereal box for a prize.
I just live with it, though. Slamming my sweaty, naked body against cold plaster walls in repeated thrusts like a Goddamn piston, never uttering anything outside of a grunt or two. Half the time I feel like a jackass, screaming and moaning his name, bent over a table with a Russian pounding over and over into me. My glasses skid across the floor while I'm kicking and thrashing around with his dick down my throat.
Wet slapping noises are the soundtrack of Hammer Industries. My whimpers and cries are the choir, and spilled tools and clattering metal is the percussion. But I envelop every second of it. It sort of looks like love, if you squint.

Fixation
Chap 1/?

The man was constantly talking. That's what bothered Ivan the most. Sure, he would also have liked his own genius to be recognized once in a while instead of constant quipps

about just what he was doing wrong, but Hammer never shut up. There was only so much Ivan could do to deal with the babbling CEO- humming quietly while Hammer went

on a verbal rampage, tinkering with some homemade project or little play thing for his bird, keeping his father's dying wish in mind to keep his focus- but Ivan's resolve was wearing

thin.

So it had to end.

"Good God, what are you doing now??" Hammer demanded, strutting like an upset peacock in his fine, grey three-piece suit. Ivan glanced up from his welding, toothpick shifting in

his mouth.

"Hm?"

"Do you, do you even know what you're doing?? I didn't mess up and grab the wrong Russian convict did I?? Ivan, come on!! I need this line up and running ASAP!!"

Ivan remained unimpressed by Hammer's demands. Petulant children needed to be punished, whether by simply ignoring or much more drastic measures. Being the mature man

that he was, Ivan set his jaw and kept welding.

"Yeah good!"

Ivan looked up again.

"No, by all means, keep working! Don't let me distract the genius at work!!"

Ivan frowned and set the welding gun down, folding his fingers and resting his chin on his knuckles. He watched Hammer remove his jacket in unimaginable frustration, feeling an

odd comradery with him in that emotion, though he knew they were the cause of each other's anxiety. Hammer marched up to him, frenetic, and held his arms up. It was almost

cute, Ivan thought in an entirely condescending way, how Hammer rolled up his sleeves, his precious little gloves on, as if he were going to work along side Ivan.

"Are you done?" Ivan murmured, flipping his mask down to begin welding again, "Lot of work to do."

"I can see that," Hammer bit, jabbing him in the thigh with his finger- the highest place he could reach on Ivan's ladder, "You have a deadline, buddy. I don't know if you know what

that means or if there's some mistranslation, but I learned the Russian for it. Okay? Predél!"

Ivan had to stop and laugh at that, "Accent is terrible!"

"I said the right word though!"

"You said 'limit', but close enough."

Hammer huffed fitfully, clearly not done harrassing Ivan. Ivan decided to give up on welding for now and turn his attentions to the petulant child craving his attention. Rolling his

toothpick in his mouth, Ivan climbed down from the ladder and stood before Hammer, still towering over him and making Hammer feel almost ridiculous. Fear flickered over his face

for a moment before he opened his mouth to begin yelling again, and it was at that time that Ivan shoved two filthy fingers against the ever-working lips. Hammer froze, not daring

to open his mouth because that's fucking disgusting.

"Quiet now. You talk so much. Never listening."

Hammer furrowed his eyebrows pathetically, remaining silent for once and absolutely hating it. Ivan removed the welding mask entirely, setting it down while the fingers at

Hammer's mouth stayed put, finally silencing the man.

"I have heard sayings," Ivan began again, accent rolling as fluidly as the toothpick in his mouth, "That man who cannot stop talking has oral fixation. This interests me. Because

fixation can be helped by replacing talking with better habit. Less annoying."

Hammer pulled back from Ivan's hand, sputtering, "I don't have an oral fixation! How the Hell do you even know that kind of English?"

"Simple sentences easier. Not an idiot, Hammer. Come back," Ivan grabbed the back of Hammer's neck and forced his hand over his mouth, "I think we work on your problem. Can

supply toothpick if you are willing. Works for me."

Hammer's question was muffled but Ivan understood the gist. 'Wait, what?'

"Toothpick works. I assure you."

In half a second, Ivan's filthy hand was gone and a filthy toothpick replaced it. Ivan's toothpick. In his mouth. Hammer frowned, nearly whimpering, because holy shit this is

disgusting.

Ivan noticed this, "You are not happy. Not a problem, many things replace talking. Just. No more talking. Not while I work."

Hammer tore the toothpick from his mouth, shaking with rage, "Who the Hell do you think you are?! You work for me! Me! I'm your boss you stupid little--"

Ivan's eyes flashed with rage, and Hammer just then remembered just how enormous the man was. He cowered, blue eyes wide and terrified behind thick-rimmed glasses. And if

Ivan hadn't been so furious, he probably would have savored this moment as a victory and gloated his due. However, he was furious and he wasn't humoring the petulant

child anymore. A second of hesitation, almost enough for Hammer to escape, then Ivan grabbed the man by his throat and threw him to the ground, watching him slide back on the

clean concrete. Hammer wheezed, tried to scrabble away, but Ivan was a real fighter and was on him in a second, holding him down by his shoulder and jaw. That shut Hammer

up, fear palpable in his wide blue eyes. Ivan grinned, metal caps of his teeth glinting, and hissed down at him.

"Little rabbit, you are in over your head. It is better to stay quiet before the hawk catches you, eh?"

Hammer whimpered, hands drating up to claw at Ivan's forearms.

"I not kill you. I warn you," Ivan pressed down, listening to the quickened breaths, "Careful among my company. Dangerous convict."

Ivan laughed, sitting up and crouching over Hammer as he took deep breaths of relief. Ivan watched him scramble away, nearly shaking.

"You," Hammer shook, trying to maintain control despite looking disheveled, "You moron! I'm going to have you put away for this!"

"You won't," Ivan pulled a toothpick from his pocket and placed it on his tongue, "No man knows Stark's plans."

Hammer huffed, standing up and straightening himself to save some semblance of dignity. Ivan stood as well, watching Hammer fuss about his appearance and even now the man

was talking, muttering to himself about the indignity of it all. Ivan sighed, knowing he hadn't learned his lesson.

"Hammer."

"Get back to work! What do I pay you for anyway?"

Ivan paused, "You don't pay me."

"... Right."

TBC

>>43387

I think we need moar of this.

>>43387

Please anon, may we have some moar?

>>43387

Anon, please continue, you'll make a lot of people really happy.

>>43387
echoing request for MOAR

>>43297
loliwrotethis. <3

>>43387
this is cute, i love it.

this isn't porn, but it's something, right?

http://hatsuharuaiava.deviantart.com/art/This-Is-My-Bird-IVAN-JUSTIN-164574410

Ivan had settled into the domestic life with relative ease; now that he had successfully forced himself under the radar, he and Justin had situated themselves in a tiny apartment, trying so very hard not to piss each other off too much. And even when they did, it almost always resulted in Justin being bent over something screaming Ivan's name, along with colourful strings of expletives.
He often found himself sitting in a dodgy old recliner, glasses on, hair pulled back and a tome-like book in his grasp, flicking through it with barely a spark of fascination. Justin was usually lurking around the apartment, but today he had gone out without a word; one minute he and Ivan had been arguing over something Justin had deemed unimportant, the next minute, things had settled and the former-industrialist had vanished.
Ivan wasn't one to worry about things he didn't particularly care about, so he grabbed a bottle of vodka and picked up his book, knowing the man would come back eventually. And he did.

Several hours later, Justin was lingering in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder every now and then and waiting for Ivan to notice him. He cleared his throat loudly after about ten minutes, Ivan rolling his eyes and looking up, having already noticed the man, just waiting for him to speak first, as was usually the case.
"Look, Ivan... I... I was wrong," Justin ground out, the words almost looking painful for the shorter man, "it's a big deal, and I was stupid to say it wasn't..." he was gesticulating as he spoke, a small smile quirking Ivan's lips as noted how unintentionally suggestive the man was being.
Justin rambled for a good few minutes before noticing that Ivan had turned back around and reclined his chair, reading quietly again. "Ivan, I'm trying to talk to you." Justin huffed, Ivan rolling his head to look at him, looking rather bored; Justin let out an odd noise of frustration that sounded a little like 'fine' before turning and stepping out into the hallway again.
"Is like having wife..." Ivan rumbled loud enough for Justin to hear, returning his attention to his book.

A familiar squawk met his ears and he turned back around, looking almost confused as Justin stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking rather embarrassed that the thing he'd just put down was making noises.
"So... I guess you uh... yeah... I was wrong about the bird, I know it was important to you and I kind of can't get it for you, what with it being in another country. But I guessed cause you got along with a new one that I could probably jus-what are you doing?" He rambled, pausing when Ivan approached and knelt down, lifting the cover from another bird cage and opening it, letting the bird out onto his hand.

He stood and wandered back to his chair without a word, sitting down and picking his book up, the bird settling on his shoulder and chirping oddly. Justin gawped at him, closing the door of the apartment and walking over, standing over Ivan and watching him, at a loss for words. It didn't take long for Ivan to shoot him a questioning stare, which Justin was all too happy to respond to,
"You like it? No 'this not my bird'?" he asked, imitating Ivan's accent, badly. "Nothing? Just... you... it's okay right? You like it... right?" he questioned, needy little attention whore creeping through in search of approval. Ivan sighed, rolling his eyes for a moment before sitting the chair upright again,
"This," he said, gesturing to the bird on his shoulder, "is my burd..."
"What? Really? I found your bird?" Justin frowned, smiling when Ivan nodded; he felt kind of proud of himself.

He grew serious quickly and nodded back, "Right, well, I smell like pets, so I'm going to go shower." Justin said, turning and heading for their tiny bathroom. Ivan urged the bird off of his shoulder with one hand, pointing at it and narrowing his eyes,
"You're not my bird," he muttered, standing and stroking its breast idly before turning to the bathroom door. "I won't tell if you don't." he shrugged, plucking a toothpick from seemingly nowhere and unbuckling his belt as he ventured toward the bathroom.

>>43513
You wrote that monologue? <3 for you, then.

>>43514

fahaha oh lordy I wrote that XD another random 'arc' in the Justin/Ivan "prison" AU. I've yet to write anything usable (post-able) about them actually BEING in the prison... I'll work on that... and some porn to tag onto the burd thing (that sounds weird) and in general.

Just so I'm not posting without content, a random drabble idea I got after talking to my friend about how many explosions Ivan walked away from without flinching (we counted 3 in the first half hour, need to watch it again to count moar).

~~Cool Guys Don't Look At Explosions~~

They weren't even walking fast. Justin was sure they should have at least been walking fast, if not running from the charge they (Ivan) had set in Justin's mansion.
"Shouldn't we be moving faster? I think we should, I mean, we've got like 60 seconds to get out of the blast zone and I don't know about you but I'm pretty sure we're not out of it yet..." he rambled incessantly, glancing to his Russian counterpart worriedly.
"You talk too much." Ivan mumbled, still taking some sort of leisurely stroll away from the impending doom Justin was predicting.
"Now isn't the time to criticise my talking Ivan, and don't you go getting any id—OH MY FUCKING GOD!" he cried out, glancing in horror over his shoulder as his home (former home, "former" as in "before he went to prison" home) went up with a bang, an eruption of flames. Ivan didn't even flinch, Justin noticed, turning back and walking (somewhat shakily) next to the large Russian.

Ivan smirked, chuckling to himself as they left the property entirely, escaping completely unnoticed by the flurry of fire fighters and police that flooded onto the scene.
"What?!" Justin snapped as they got in the car, folding his arms across his chest and pouting,
"Cool guys don’t look at explosion." Ivan said, chewing the toothpick he'd just pulled from a plastic case.
"I didn't look," Justin huffed, staring out the window at his old life as it burnt to a crisp, scowling when Ivan chuckled again, "I DIDN'T FUCKING LOOK!"

>>43525

Uh, you got a point.
Cool guys don't look at the explosion.

>>43525
AWWW THIS WAS AWESOME LMAO <333
Seriously, I loved this. Moar plz.

>>43602

HNNNG

>>43602 EEEEE~

(decided to name myself now, HatsuharuAiava from DA, writer of "This is my bird" "Roots" and that thing about explosions. So now you know 8D)

>>43602

Fuck! I have a new OTP

>>43613
I think we definitely need a continuation of "Not my Bird," ma'am. Or at least some more porn. I like your writing and accurate characterization a lot. A lot a lot.

Also, Cool Guys Don't Look at Explosions? Fuckin' hilarious.
"I DIDN'T LOOK."

>>43387
Oh my, I loved this =D I hope that's not all.
Mayhaps I need to get to writing or drawing this evening.

>>43602
HNNGHDSDG- made my day ok <3

We need more!

When I found this, I lol'd.
http://reamsloth.exteen.com Is the source. She has some cute stuff, though I prefer my men...well, manly.

>>43887

Dahling, I can't stop laughing!

>>43623
Wouldn't think it (going on my name) but I'm actually a guy. Other than that, thank you very much for your kind words ^_____^

>>43887
Oh god I think I just died a little...

And because I hate not having anything to offer, I give you a sneaky peeky in which Justin decides its socially acceptable to walk around his tiny apartment in a vest, an open shirt and no pants; it'll torture you until I finish the damned story.

Another offcut from the prison AU (again, seriously need to write more IN the prison). These take place on the same timeline but are more small spin-off-esque drabbles me and my friend (who wrote >>42261, drew >>42305 and the likes) like to think up. Most of them will probably not occur in the actual story (but aspects might).

~Teaser~

"What you doing?" he asked, voice almost sing-song as he /presented/ himself to the Russian, rolling his eyes at the mutter of 'nothing' and reaching over to pluck a toothpick from a plastic container. "Well you're /obviously/ doing something, or you wouldn't be ignoring me," he stated matter-of-factly, toothpick now jutting from his lips as he spoke, "Okay maybe you would," he said with a small laugh, "but you're making something, and I'd rather you weren't, because you woke me up..."
"You are lazy, need to get up early anyway." Ivan rumbled, holding the device up in the light for a moment before setting it on the desk and reaching for his blueprints, not glancing up from the device. Justin looked down, a little surprised when rough fingers brushed his skin, his surprise turning into a pout when he realised what Ivan was after.
"Oh /sorry/, am I in your /way/?" He drawled sarcastically, making a sort of tutting noise around the toothpick when Ivan gave the side of his leg a half-hearted backhand,
"Off." Ivan demanded, the back of his hand lingering to push at Justin, who wiggled slightly, making himself more comfortable,
"No." He huffed, turning his nose up and folding his arms across his chest. Ivan frowned at Justin, seeming to have noticed his state of undress for the first time,
"I hope you are clean." He grimaced, Justin scowling at him and grumpily lifting his backside from the blueprints, plonking himself back down again when Ivan yanked them away and checked them over.

>>43899

You tease!

>>43899
god i loved this so much lmfao. keep it up, it's exciting.

>>43887
wut. lmao. wow. nice.

I was watching the Maury show with my bestie and decided to draw Ivan and Justin watching Maury? idk. i need a scanner to scan it.

bump

Not what I gave the teaser for, but I had an urge. The thing the teaser is from is... almost done I think...

Fake Out (Tony/Justin... sort of)

Warnings: cursing, violence, reference to sensitive subjects.

"You're pathetic," he remarked, shoving Justin to the bed and climbing on top of him, leering as the smaller man tried to shy away, tried to convince the mattress to swallow him whole. "You always have been, even from the start," Tony smirked, "just a snivelling little brat that failed at everything he did; I'm surprised you even got /into/ that school." He leant in for a kiss, angry and heated, teeth clashing near violently as Tony forced his tongue deeper and Justin tried to push him away.
"G-get off!" Justin choked out when Tony decided he wanted to break for air, the dark eyed man tutted at him, brushing the backs of his fingers down Justin's cheek,
"Now now /Justin/, I have a nice little facility on speed dial, they have a room made up /just/ for you..." he purred, pressing himself that little bit closer. Justin sighed and glanced away for a moment, turning back and grabbing Tony's face, pulling him into a rough, sloppy kiss; he didn't want to go to prison. "Good boy..." Tony mumbled as he pulled away, petting Justin's hair patronisingly before supporting himself on his elbows and smiling down at the miserable looking man.

"Now where was I?" Tony asked, making a low noise when he remembered, "you always bothered me in school, always trying to get close to me, I bet you wanted to suck me off back /then/ too," he sneered, "I should have let you, fucking your stupid little mouth would have been so good, having you suck me when I studied? What a /dream/." He added, now tracing Justin's features gently, it was scary how intimate the renowned playboy was behaving.
"Tony..." Justin breathed, unsure whether to feel flattered or offended at his boss's words,
"Shhhh... I didn't say you could speak," Tony hushed, brushing the tip of a rough finger over Justin's lips, smirking when he elicited a shiver, "and I'm not done yet, you were amazed weren't you? At how quickly I got through the grades above yours, you were practically creaming yourself wanting to meet me, weren't you?" he asked, sitting up so he was straddling Justin's lap, running his index finger down the bespectacled man's neck, over his clavicle, his sternum, ghosting a pattern on his abdomen lazily. "Tell me how much you wanted me... How much you still want me..." he breathed as he leant close to Justin's ear, lingering and waiting for him to do as he was told.

Justin stared at the ceiling, brow furrowed as he absorbed Tony's words, as the insults sank in and Tony's narcissistic tendencies began prodding at his thoughts, trying to worm in and reassure the man who had them.
"I... I never did..." he finally let out, "I still don't..." he said with a frown, watching Tony sit up looking somewhat taken aback,
"What?" he blinked, somewhat confused by Justin's words.
"I /don't/ want you... I never have... Sure I wanted to be /friends/ with you, hell, I wanted to /be/ you... but I've never wanted to be /with/ you." Justin rambled, glancing off to the side and fiddling nervously with his tie as he lay beneath his confused boss.
"No, if that were true you wouldn't have been half as eager to suck my dick as you were..." Tony said,
"I... I was overwhelmed... it'd been... a long time since..." Justin stammered, his assertive streak managing to falter as Tony looking him over like trapped prey, his mind working on ammunition.

"Oh I get it... you missed cock, you actually /liked/ it when you got fucked in the showers didn't you? Loved the feel of a serial rapist pounding his fat cock into you," he hissed, leaning close again and whispering, "I bet you loved it when they ganged up on you, fucking every hole they could find, they ever stick two in the same hole Justin?" he laughed, watching as Justin's eyes widened and his breathing quickened, "Whoa, you really are a whore, aren’t you? How many of those prisoners /did/ you fuck?" he was sat up laughing wickedly now, shifting to sit at Justin's side. "Was it all of them? Did they take turns making you moan?"
His laughter died out around the time his face collided with the floor, a foot smashing into his ribs as he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees.
"You have no fucking /idea/ what I went through in there!" Justin screamed, grabbing the front of Tony's shirt and lifting him off the floor slightly, hooking the side of his boss's face once, twice, three times before Tony recovered enough from his shock to put a hand up.

He pried Justin's fingers from his shirt and grunted when the smaller man dropped him in favour of trying to kick at his ribs again. Justin was livid, tears pouring down his cheeks, his vision blurred as he repeatedly cracked his foot into Tony's side; he dragged the man away from the bed by his /perfect/ fucking hair, straddling his torso and repeatedly striking Tony's /perfect/ fucking face, he wanted irreparable damage.
"You think I /wanted/ those... those /animals/ violating me?! You think I lay down and /let/ them fuck me?! I wanted to /DIE/!" he cried, punctuating every other syllable with another punch, not caring that Tony had his arms by his face and they were taking the brunt of each strike. He was sniffling and sobbing as he hit Tony, everything he'd felt, every time he'd wanted to punch someone was pulsing from him all at once, all directed at one man.
"You know the guards? They don't give a shit, scream as loud as you fucking want Hammer, they won't come save you. Nobody fucking will," he sobbed, Tony hiding behind his arms with a look of terror marring his bloody face, a look of terror and god damn him if he ever admitted it, a look of /shame/, he was /ashamed/ that he'd pushed the smaller man into this outburst. "'I slipped and fell in the showers' 'I walked into a doorframe' 'I fell off of my bunk' 'I cut my mouth when I was eating'" he whined, mocking himself.

He clutched Tony's wrists, shaking them violently as he sobbed on top of the dark haired man, "I was shoved against the wall, gagged with my own shirt and fucked against my will; I was punched in the face for biting someone; they broke my glasses /and/ my nose cause I wouldn't suck their dick; two guys thought it'd be a nice idea to shove their dicks down my throat at the same /fucking time/!" Justin whimpered, leaning his head on Tony's arms, shaking and cowering as the memories flooded back.
Tony didn't quite know how to react, not willing to move his hands in case Justin was trying to trick him, though his gut was telling him this couldn't be faked. He began to move his arms, taking Justin's hands with them and unintentionally pulling the crying man closer,
"Justin... is that true?" he asked, mouth suddenly dry as Justin shifted to look at him in disbelief. He was further taken aback when Justin began laughing harshly, raising a fist and slamming it into the side of his boss's face, knocking him out.


Tony woke up with a belting headache, a swollen shut eye and a distinct feeling that he had made a terrible mistake. He sat up sluggishly, finding himself on the left-hand side of the bed instead of the floor; he glanced across the bed to see Justin's hunched form perched on the furthest corner, his head in his bloody-knuckled hands and his elbows propped on his thighs.
"Justin?" he called out tentatively, grimacing at how much pain he was in, Justin turned slowly, looking at Tony with a blank expression on his face, "Justin..." he sighed, and despite the pain he felt, he honestly had to know, "what you said earlier... was it true?"
"I'm going to prison aren't I?" Justin asked, ignoring the question completely. Tony stared at him, he stared back, each man waiting for the other to cave and answer the damned question, Justin rolled his eyes and his shoulders sank "No, it wasn't," he huffed, standing up and straightening his clothes, "I'm going to go find a first aid kit..." he sighed, leaving Tony alone in the hotel room.

Tony reached to the small case on his nightstand, pulling a small handheld device out and tapping away at the touch screen, sifting through pages and pages of what looked to be medical records of some kind. A sick feeling settled at the pit of his stomach as the explanations for each ailment matched up; maybe it /was/ true.

made this.
not as good as my last one.
but. eh. it'll do for the lack.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/86711?view_adult=true
^ some ivan/justin and ivan/tony smut i found.

>>44594
hnnnnng

>>44594
That's a good fic.

Not going to let this thread die.

>>44827
sauce?

>>44854

Got it from the Iron Man Kink

http://ironman-kink.livejournal.com/369.html?page=3#comments

Not entirely sure who did it.

http://demonqueen666.livejournal.com/383774.html

Justin Hammer woke up with a dull, throbbing headache, and several alarming realizations right in a row.

First, he didn’t recognize where he was; second, he’d apparently been stripped of everything except his glasses and his underwear; and third, he was bound, at wrists and ankles, with some very uncompromising-looking leather restraint devices that fastened him securely to a large bed.

The grogginess and bewilderment faded somewhat quickly as he assessed the situation, and remembered that, while he’d seen more than few pornos that started out like this and ended pretty well, he’d also seen several horror films that began likewise and did not.

In spite of the restraints’ appearance of being probably unbreakable, un-pick-able and unyielding, he tugged at them anyway, testing their strength while he tried to remember what the hell had happened and maybe figure out where he was.

Note to self number one: fire and replace all personal security staff.

Note to self number two: try not to panic.

Those restraints weren’t budging. Tilting his head back he eyed the ones on his wrists hopefully as he tried some experimental wriggling. Hey, he’d gone through that Harry Houdini phase when he was a kid, too. Right after the dinosaur phase. And right before that phase where he’d started taking things apart to figure out how they worked and try to put them back together again, a phase which he’d never quite grown out of.

Maybe he could escape-artist his way out of this. Maybe he’d get lucky.

It was known, on occasion, in his life, to happen.

He stopped what he was doing and froze, however, at the sound of the door opening.

Tony Stark, apparently fresh from the shower, hair combed back and wearing a white bathrobe, sauntered in (Tony Stark never just ‘walked’ anywhere, Justin was thoroughly convinced. He strutted, swaggered, and occasionally strode, but he never ever walked).

“Hey there, Hammer. Glad to see you finally up and awake.” With conversational tone and careless demeanor, Tony went to the nearby sideboard and poured himself a drink. “I was starting to think you’d still be unconscious by the time Pepper got home.”

He shrugged before taking a sip from his tumbler. “And, well, that’d just be awkward.”

Justin’s automatic inclination in situations where he had no idea what to say was to go with the first thing he thought of. Which in this case, was -

“Did you disable my ankle monitor yourself? Because if so, you’d better be able to put it back together and get it on and working again. I’m serious. If I get pitched in jail for violating parole in a manner that I had absolutely no say in, I’m gonna be really upset.”

Tony grinned, sat himself on the side of the bed and gave Justin a brief pat on the knee. “Oh, don’t worry about that. We can always say I insisted on removing it for ludicrous reasons involving my personal privacy when we had some sort of secret business meeting. You know how eccentric us playboy billionaires are.”

“Yeah,” was Justin’s response. “Uh, you don’t say.”

Which, translated into Justin-Hammer-talking-to-Tony-Stark speak, meant: “What the fuck am I doing tied to your bed?”

Tony set the drink aside. “So. This setup may require a bit of explanation.”

“Um. Maybe,” Justin exclaimed, incredulous. “Considering about the only way this could’ve happened was for me to have been drugged and seriously, who on your payroll did you get to sneak in and drug me, because that’s…gangsta, and I don’t even mean in the cool way like the kids do, and wait. Wait. Is this your house? Oh my god, you - - actually had me knocked out and dragged to your own house, are you kidding me with this? Are you even remotely familiar with the idea of trying to cover your tracks? The boys on CSI: Miami would be all over this, five, maybe ten seconds flat.”

“You sound maybe a little excited at the thought of being inside my house, Justin,” Tony observed.

“Except this can’t be your bedroom,” Justin said without meaning to. “Your California mansion has full-length windows designed to catch the morning sunrise from the best possible angles of reflection.”

Tony smirked, and unfortunately Justin was sure the realization of his own mistake was all over his face.

“You read one of the walk-through articles, didn’t you?” Tony said. “Let me guess…Smithsonian? People Magazine?”

“Popular Mechanics,” Justin mumbled, trying not to make eye contact.

“You know what, I have to admit,” Tony told him, chuckling, “sometimes it really becomes almost adorable, how despondently jealous you are.”

“I’m not-”

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s also incredibly annoying,” - still using a casual tone, Tony reached over to give one of the restraints a tug, as if checking to make sure it was in place - “especially when it involves me and oh, couple thousand innocent bystanders nearly getting mowed down by robots piloted by the maniacal genius you unleashed, as part of a truly sad desperate bid to try and show me up publicly…”

“Anthony,” Justin interrupted him. “Anthony…Tony. Come on. Let’s be rational people here, am I right? There’s no reason we can’t do that. This is no way to handle things.”

He shrugged the best he could, considering. “If you’ve got a problem with me, you know: sue me. I’m sure you read the papers enough to know you wouldn’t be the only one, right now.” He gave a weak, somewhat desperate-sounding laugh. “But, I mean, kidnapping me? Doling out some kind of physical punishment all on your own, vigilante style? This isn’t you.”

Justin shook his head in what was intended to be a sympathetic and concerned manner. All the while, he was trying to conceal his rising panic.

“It’s not. It’s really not. And I think, deep down, you still know that. Just…step back from the ledge, okay? Let’s work this out.”

Tony eyed him calmly a moment. “Where exactly did you get the impression I’d brought you here to punish you?”

Justin eyed him right back for another moment – but in this case, it was because he was gaping.

>>45132

“Uh. I’m chained to a bed? We’re here alone? You’ve already got me…more than a little compromised? Exactly what conclusion did you think I’d come to?”

“You see, this is your problem. Why you can never compete with me. Well, no, let’s be honest: there’s more than one reason why you’ll never measure up. But this is definitely a significant part of it.”

Tony sighed. “You just really aren’t all that creative.”

He absently tugged the front of his robe, enough to expose part of the glow of the arc reactor. “I didn’t have you brought here to hurt you. Actually, I’m planning on helping you.”

“Wait, are you naked under there?” Justin said, realization belatedly hitting him in the face.

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Wow. You really are the next big genius, huh, Tesla.” Justin opened his mouth, but of course Tony kept going right over him. “A couple of things, for the record. One: yes we are, in fact, in the bedroom of my California house. I put down the privacy shading on the windows, hence why it’s so dark. I’ve even got JARVIS in emergency-only standby mode – it’s just you and me. Two: I didn’t actually pay someone to abduct you. Black Widow took care of it, on the house.”

“Black who?” Justin asked.

“You might know her better as Natasha Romanoff. Or, actually, Natalie Rushman. My formerly new personal assistant?”

“The one that shoved me face-first into a desk?”

“Yep, that’s the one.” Tony nodded. “Turns out she’s a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. operative. Kinda confusing, I know. Believe me no one was more surprised than I.”

“You got your associates at S.H.I.E.L.D to drug me, bring me over, take my clothes off and tie me down in your bedroom?” Justin pointed out, disbelieving. “You’re not maybe a little worried about how they could interpret that?”

“Well it’s not like I got the whole department to help. Just Natasha. And I know she can keep a secret: obviously, there’s that whole covert agent thing. Besides, she seemed to find it pretty funny.”

Tony turned around, moving so he was half-seated, half-lying next to Justin, back pillowed on one of his forcibly upheld arms.

“Finally. I’ve gotta ask-” He slipped off Justin’s glasses, turning them over curiously. “Do you have bad astigmatism, or do you keep on wearing these because you seriously think it makes you look all intellectual or suave or, you know, whatever?”

“It does,” Justin retorted, trying not to sound like he was sulking. “What do you know, anyhow?”

Tony snorted. “Okay, fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He placed the glasses on the bedside table next to his drink and…a couple other things, Justin realized with a double-take.

Great. Now if only it had occurred to him to look before he was rendered legally blind.

“Which brings us to why we’re here,” Tony continued, standing up again. He earnestly met Justin’s eyes. “You clearly need to relax more. I mean, really relax.”

Justin gave him a look. “I’m thinking that might be a little hard, at the moment.”

Tony smirked. “Interesting word choice.”

“Okay…there is really no way on earth this is possibly going the way that it’s starting to sound like,” Justin laughed, looking toward the ceiling; because, really, what the fuck? This was legitimately crazy, the whole thing, straight up.

“Why? Too good to be true?” Tony offered, which got him to stop laughing in a heartbeat.

“You shut up.”

“Nice comeback.”

“I’m not…” Justin sneered, getting angry now. “Just because you’re so goddamn crazy awesome and accomplished, and you’re the guy everybody wants to beat, doesn’t mean that everybody’s obsessed with you, Stark. Especially not in that way!”

“Hmm. Think I might’ve hit a nerve, huh,” Tony remarked over his shoulder.

He took a few steps to the side, and without any further warning, dropped his robe, tossing it aside.

Whatever other remarks Justin was about to make were forgotten as he stared, then very quickly tried to find the wall treatments absolutely fascinating.

After all - he wasn’t that legally blind.

“You okay there, pal? You look a little flushed.”

“Um…” The attempt at words was cut off by a nervous swallow. Sure, he probably did look flushed. And like he was starting to sweat. And like his breathing was suddenly shallower. And, depending on where Tony was looking…

Justin desperately tried to think non-arousing thoughts, which was currently proving unfortunately very difficult.

“Uh huh. That’s what I thought.” Tony came over again, looking unbearably smug. Justin clenched his teeth, hating life, and tried not to look at his face or anywhere else on him, for that matter.

“What, are you recording this?” he guessed bitterly. “That’s the plan, right. Even after what happened at the Expo, you just couldn’t resist. Couldn’t help yourself: you and your lack of self-control. So here it is, then, one last chance to ultimately publically humiliate me.”

“I’m not recording this. And why would I need to go out of my way to publically humiliate you? You always set yourself up for it so well.” Tony was sitting on the bed again, one hand resting on the other side of Justin as he leaned in to try and get a good look at his face.

“Which is what it’s all about, really. You and I, we’ve had our little laughs over the years, and that’s fine. Nothing like a good old school professional rivalry. Especially with the security of knowing the other guy’s never really gonna be a threat. May have never liked you much on a personal level, but I was willing to let you try and trip me up whatever way you cared to devise. But you see, when it escalates to the point where you try to kill me, then I gotta do some intervention. Because that’s-”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you,” Justin stated, flatly, meeting his eyes in as unwelcoming a manner as possible.

“Okay. But you collaborated with the guy who you knew was trying to kill me, which is…at the very least, that’s just willfully ignorant on what I personally find to be a worrying level. Why I’m coming in now, because otherwise you’re going to end up hurting someone - smart money says it’ll be you, by the way. Just gonna put a stop to this, before it gets any worse than it already has.”

Tony said this all in a very reasonable tone of voice. Like it was the most sensible thing in the world.

Justin squirmed uncomfortably in his restraints. “What do you want from me?”

“This is how it’ll go. You listening?” Tony lounged forward on his elbows, both far too into Justin’s personal space for his liking, and looking too comfortable in nothing but his skin, the arc reactor, and a serious look. “Here are the rules.”

“Does one of them involve me getting a safety word?” Justin had meant for that to be snide, but somewhere between brain and mouth it’d become more pleading.

Tony smirked, briefly. “No. Like I said, I have no plan of hurting you. But I am going to ask you some questions. And you’re going to answer me truthfully. No backtalk, no smart remarks, none of our usual traded jibes. And bear in mind, that’s not an order. Or a demand. That’s just statement of fact.

“You’re going to be completely, totally honest with me. And after that, as reward – I’m going to make you very, very happy.”

His eyes trailed downward, and he skimmed the area between Justin’s navel and the waistband of his briefs with the tip of his finger.

“I’ll leave the actual specifics of ‘how’ out for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

Justin stared straight ahead at him, wide-eyed, and didn’t – couldn’t – say a thing.

“Silence in this case equals consent,” Tony said offhandedly. “So here it goes. Why did you work with Vanko?”

Justin protested, “You already know why I-”

“Ah ah,” Tony cut him off, smoothly. “That’s not how we’re doing it. I want to hear it in your words. To the point.”

Justin swallowed. His fingers worked into fists, gripping the cords of the restraints.

“He’d already built something as good as you once. I thought he could do it again. Just this time, for me.”

“See, that’s better.” Tony’s voice turned more solemn. “And it didn’t bother you at all, that you were working with a killer and a convict; that you needed to break laws yourself to get that help?”

Justin gave him a briefly withering look. “I sell missiles and anti-tank devices and all kinds of other deadly toy surprises for a living. Come on. I know you’re out of the biz but don’t act like you’ve forgotten how it works. My hands are already far from bloodless.”

“Fair enough,” Tony admitted. “But you knew Vanko wanted to kill me.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, but it was intended as one. Justin swallowed again.

“I thought I could control him.”

“Did you? Really?” Tony gave him a meaningful look, refusing to break eye contact – Justin had to look away first.

“I convinced myself that I believed I could control him,” he gave in miserably.

He didn’t understand it. Why was he going along with this? For some reason, it really felt like he couldn’t say anything but the truth. Like it was physically impossible to lie.

“But on some level you knew you probably couldn’t?”

“Guess so, yeah.”

“And that people could end up getting hurt?”

“Y-yeah.”

“You regret that decision, now?”

“…I don’t know.”

He was possibly going to prison, his company was in the midst of a public relations nightmare, and the government was likely never ever going to want to work with him again. And yet, it had all seemed so reasonable at the time.

>>45133

Justin waited for Tony to keep pushing him; to say that “I don’t know” wasn’t a real answer. But to his surprise, he didn’t.

“Okay,” Tony continued, after a moment. “Now for the money shot. Why’d you do it, Justin? When did trying to be as good as me, better than me, become so important you were willing to cross just about every line you had left?”

“I don’t…” Justin stopped. His voice got very small. “I-I had to.”

“Why?” Tony pressed.

“Because. It…it wasn’t fun anymore.”

Tony frowned, seeming at a genuine loss. “What wasn’t fun?”

“The game. Us. You know, you and me. Always taking shots at each other in public, always trying to cut to the head of the pack. You said it: we had our professional rivalry, and that was fine. But then it got personal. And then…”

When Justin didn’t keep going Tony asked, quietly, “When did it stop being fun?”

“When you kept winning. Always,” Justin mumbled. His eyes were fixed on some distant point on the floor. “When you never took me seriously. I was always working my tail off, trying to catch up to you; I took you seriously, but you…never. I was always just a joke to you. When you even remembered I existed.

“Stark Industries stopped making weapons. We weren’t even supposed to be competitors anymore. And yet somehow you still outshone me.” His lips curled. “It wasn’t fair.”

“Hmmm. You’re right, I never did take you seriously,” Tony admitted, careless. “But really, can you blame me? To be honest, I guess I always assumed you had thicker skin than all of that.”

He moved up further on the bed, knees digging into the mattress, and put his hand under Justin’s chin. Gently but forcefully turning his head so he had to look at him.

“Well. You kept your end of the bargain,” Tony informed him. “Now for your reward.”

“Please, just let me go,” Justin said wearily.

Right now he just felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t even want to be in the same room as Tony Stark.

“Oh come on, I can’t do that. The fun hasn’t even started,” Tony contested, lightly. “I promised I’d make it worth your while.”

“I don’t care,” Justin grumbled, trying to turn away again. “I don’t even want-”

“Liar,” Tony cut him off coolly, in a tone Justin had never heard him use before. “And up until now, you were doing so good with the honesty thing.”

And without pause he leaned over on top of the other man, sinking his mouth into that space between collarbone and neck.

Justin’s entire body yanked instinctively against the restraints, pulling so hard it hurt, but he couldn’t help it; he couldn’t stop as every muscle in him tensed, a sharp gasp rising from the back of his throat.

Tony’s teeth dug into his skin, hard enough to bruise, almost hard enough to draw blood even, as he simultaneously kissed and sucked without mercy. His sturdy, wide palms stayed fast to the other’s shoulders, strong fingers curling to hold onto him tight. There was a tingling warm buzz of energy somewhere around Justin’s belly where the arc reactor touched him, and Tony’s half-erect cock pressed against his upper thigh.

Justin’s head flopped back weakly as Tony finally pulled away, lifting his gaze up to meet his.

“Feeling better?” Tony offered. His tongue absently flicked across his own lips - like he’d tasted something he’d enjoyed and wanted more.

“Y-yeah,” Justin panted. He shut his eyes, partially to disguise the fact they were rolling to the back of his head. “Maybe…maybe a little.”

“So. Should I maybe keep going then?” Tony said, completely nonchalant.

Justin found himself gripping the restraints yet again. “…y-yes. You’re not going to make me beg, are you?” he asked, darkly.

“Oh, I don’t need to hear it. Or want to, even. Besides, maybe you haven’t realized; in a way you already are.”

Tony got off of him, shifting back to the one side of the bed as he reached for something.

“Okay. Now onto phase two: the fun part,” he said, rummaging across the table. “I go first, obviously. And we’re going to do our best to make sure you don’t make a sound.”

“Oh yeah? And how exactly do you plan-”

He fell silent as Tony held up an object between his fingers, with a small gesture of flourish.

A still-wrapped tootsie roll pop. Orange, to be precise.

“Rhodey mentioned that he suspected you might have something for…things that come with sticks,” Tony remarked. He had a faint note in his voice that was strongly indicative of a repressed smile.

“Did he,” Justin returned flatly. Mentally he considered and quickly dismissed the chances he could get away with ordering a hit put out on Lt. Colonel Rhodes. “So, what exactly is your brilliant plan to do with that?”

Tony looked between the tootsie pop and Justin’s face, eyebrows rising. “I was thinking I was going to put it in your mouth, Justin.”

“No thanks. I don’t want it,” he said, teeth grit.

“Really? You sure?”

“I said, I don’t want it.”

“But are you sure?” Tony pressed. “I mean, absolutely?”

He gave the tootsie roll pop a considering look as he spoke, slowly unwrapping it. Turned it around, pulling a thoughtful face. And then he made a show of slowly opening his mouth, sticking it in, and pulling it out again with an audible pop.

And then he licked it. Very deliberately – Justin watched, hypnotized, as Tony Stark did something that had to be illegal in at least the Red States to that lollipop with his tongue.

Tony finished off by pressing a delicate kiss to the hard candied surface. “I’ll bet you want it now,” he stated.

Justin was completely speechless.

“Open up,” Tony commanded.

He obediently did as told. Tony pressed it to the center of his tongue, and Justin closed his mouth, lips brushing against Tony’s knuckles as he pulled his fingers away.

Justin resisted the urge to start sucking on the lollipop – it was kind of unnerving with, you know, Tony staring right at him.

“Good,” Tony said, giving him a considering look, a smile slowly breaking across his features. He cupped one hand against the side of Justin’s face, briefly stroking his cheek. “Now keep it there.”

Then he moved in, pressing a slow, soft kiss to the center of Justin’s forehead. Then another one, right by the corner of his eye.

Then the side of his cheek, then the shell of his ear – this one involved some brief lapping tongue action – then the underside of his jaw. Each one lasting almost unbearably long, tantalizing, each one just a little deeper and less chaste than the last.

Tony got as far as the base of his neck before Justin couldn’t take it any more. The tootsie pop had shifted to the pocket of his cheek by now, his voice muffled as he moaned.

Without looking, without even raising his head from where he was molesting Justin’s throat, Tony reached up and carefully plucked the lollipop between his fingers, shifting it back to center.

“Nah uh. It stays there, remember?” Tony instructed him calmly. “It’s supposed to keep you quiet.”

Justin thought he really couldn’t be blamed if he whimpered, by this point. “Buh-”

“No buts. Do you want me to keep going, or not?”

He gulped, giving Tony a wounded look, but meekly nodded.

“Okay then.” Tony went back to his work.

He trailed more kisses along the line of his victim’s collarbone, all the way to the hollow of his throat. Then he continued in a straight path down the front of Justin’s chest - although he decided at some point to wander over to his left nipple, where Tony’s teeth came back into play.

He kept going down across his stomach (Justin was seriously convinced Tony was trying to count every single one of his ribs with his mouth). He stopped for awhile making a small circle around his navel (a taunting flick of the tongue).

Then Tony proceeded to make a laboriously slow line down one of his sides. Inch. By Inch. Like he was literally afraid to miss a spot. He even tugged Justin’s underwear out of the way so he could kiss the skin that would’ve otherwise remained covered.

And then he just kept going, switching to the inside of Justin’s leg.

By this time, Justin felt like his back was locked in a permanently arched position. He knew at the very least the skin on his wrists and ankles had to be red from pulling against the restraints. His eyes were screwed shut, breath coming in tiny desperate noises. He was trembling all over.

>>45134

Tony Stark was the evilest man on the face of the planet.

By the time Tony was kissing the bottom of his foot, it was too damn much. The lollipop had been pushed to the side of his mouth again but he didn’t dare make a sound – he clenched his teeth, and it smashed between his molars with a loud crunch.

Tony brought his lips away from Justin’s heel. Grinning – of course he was grinning.

“So much for being long-lasting.”

He crept back up so his face was on level with Justin’s. Fished out the stick of the destroyed lollipop, carelessly placing it in his own mouth.

“Go ahead,” Tony told him. “Finish it. Swallow.”

Justin’s main thought was that he didn’t want to choke. He chewed very carefully, one, two, three times, and then downed it with a gulp.

“Good.” Tony pulled out the stick and tossed it aside, carelessly. “You know, I can already tell, I like you a lot better when you just do what you’re told.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to punish me.” Justin’s voice was hoarse. “But this is torture. You’re killing me, over here.”

“C’mon now.” Tony lightly ran his fingers across Justin’s hair. “It’s not nearly as much fun without the buildup. The anticipation. Where would we be if life was instant gratification, all the time?” Justin shifted, making an uncomfortable sound. “You’re right though, guess I am being kind of mean to you. Little unfair. Tell you what, then.”

Tony lowered to a murmur that would’ve been inaudible, were he not inches from Justin’s face. “You can kiss me, any place you choose. Anywhere on my body. Whatever you want. Name it.”

He pulled back a little when Justin didn’t immediately respond.

“Well, come on. Speak up. It’s not like you to be shy. Pick a spot.”

Before Justin was even aware he was having the thought, his eyes moved straight to the white and silver gleam of the arc reactor. Tony followed his gaze.

“You know. You really are a fanboy science nerd at heart, aren’t you,” Tony observed.

Justin scowled, eyes narrowing, but before he could think of a response Tony was moving again, sedate expression on his face.

“Well, hey, that’s what you want. You got it. It’s yours,” he declared.

“Wait-”

But he cut off, startled, as Tony sat on top of him, straddling him (oh god) and moved forward, muscles taut (oh jesus christ). Tony reached past him, gripping the headboard in both hands to help keep his balance.

He leaned forward. The arc reactor was right in Justin’s face.

“Go on,” Tony said softly. “It doesn’t sting, I promise.”

Well, what else could he do, now? Justin inhaled, then closed his eyes and kissed.

The reactor was warm – not burning hot to the touch, but a steady thrumming warmth; feeling like it spread way past his mouth, into him. This close there was a humming sound, and underneath Justin thought he could almost hear the beating of Tony’s heart. There was a tiny dancing jolt, electric tingle like licking the end of a battery, when he touched it with his tongue.

He pulled back, his lids feeling heavy as he opened them, as he heard Tony say, “Let me guess. Tastes like coconut.”

“Nnnn.” Justin had a hard time speaking, voice quiet and breathless. “And…metal.”

“Well,” Tony remarked. “Let’s see.”

And he grabbed Justin by the hair, holding him in place as he kissed him thoroughly on the mouth.

A faint sound escaped from deep in Justin’s throat, eyes closing, lips parting. He waited for Tony to break it off, because he swore he wasn’t going to do it first. He kept going, and going – and okay, so he turned into a sloppy kisser when he got excited. Big deal, nothing wrong with enthusiasm.

He felt Tony’s facial hair scratch against his skin. He could smell the other man’s aftershave and underneath it something else that sort of reminded him of his workshop, which was weird since he knew Tony had just taken a shower - but maybe that was just the price Tony Stark paid for being Iron Man. Maybe he always had that hint of mechanics and machinery hanging about him, now. That wasn’t so bad.

He pulled Tony’s lip between his teeth and, wait, had that hand really stayed on the back of his head like that the entire time now? Weird. He wasn’t sure if he’d forgotten or gotten so used to it, like that was where it belonged – like he couldn’t imagine a world without his hair held tight between fingers, knuckles curled firmly against his scalp.

In the end it felt like they broke at the same time, parting sluggishly. A compromise.

“Think we’re ready for the main event,” Tony said after a couple moments. “Don’t you?” He moved his grip to Justin’s sides, holding him as he nibbled at his neck again.

“You’re gonna untie me first, right?” Justin asked hopefully.

“Depends. Will you keep your hands to yourself?”

The only response Justin was able to give was a wretched groan, limbs straining against the leather, his body rubbing against Tony’s desperately, seeking friction, seeking release.

Tony chortled, head shaking. “See. That’s what I thought. I like it better this way. I keep the control.”

“Son of a bitch-” Justin gasped, strangled. Tony sighed, ignoring his outburst.

“Guess it can’t be helped, though. I’m gonna have to let your legs go anyway, to get these off.” He gave Justin’s briefs a snap. “So, might as well.”

Tony reached across to the bedside table again. Justin’s eyes flicked over, and quickly identified what he’d picked up: a wrapped condom, and a bottle of lubricant.

“Uh.” He swallowed, his mouth suddenly feeling drier. “You know it’s, uh…it’s sort of, um, been awhile…”

Tony paused, lifting his head from where he’d been kissing the inside of Justin’s knee to smirk at him, with slight mocking laughter. “Yeah, I’d already gathered.”

Justin made a halfhearted attempt to kick Tony in the face, even though he knew it was pointless.

“That is not what I meant! Oh, come on now,” he snapped. “Sure, I can’t quite keep tabs with your playbook, but I’m still rich and not physically disfigured in any way – I get action, thanks! Plenty, I’ll have you know.”

He dropped his head back with an angry huff.

“I was trying to say, it’s been awhile since I’ve been with a guy.”

“Thank you for not insulting my intelligence by claiming you never had been,” Tony stated. Justin rolled his eyes.

“Everyone gets bored. Even you, apparently.”

“Well.” Tony crawled backwards, ending up crouched by the end of the bed. He started unlocking the restraints around Justin’s ankles. “For what it’s worth, I’m not bored now.”

Justin gave a hiss, half-pained, half-relieved. He focused on moving his feet in slow circles, trying to get feeling back. Tony knelt over him as he undid one of his wrists.

He gave the leather device a disapproving look, holding it up as he shook his head. “Shame. These aren’t really designed to be comfortable, I’m guessing. But it probably would’ve raised too many questions even for Black Widow if I’d offered to lend her a set.”

He finished up by releasing Justin’s other wrist. At which point, Justin got up and tackled him.

Or at least, he tried. But Justin’s body was stiff and still flustered from the treatment he’d been receiving and as a rule, he really only worked out enough to stay in a shape that wasn’t “round”. Tony on the other hand was ready, composed, and had a hell of a lot more coiled muscle. Without even blinking he quickly had Justin pinned back down, atop him.

Tony laughed, smug. “See. This is exactly what I was talking about,” he commented, holding Justin’s arms down. “It’s just so much easier when I don’t have to bother with pointless fighting over who gets to be in charge. Not that you’re really much of a challenger.”

Justin gave him a sour look.

“What’s the matter, am I hurting you?” Tony asked.

“Maybe my feelings,” Justin shot back. Tony smirked again.

“Cute.” He leaned forward, skimming teeth and tongue along the other’s upper body as he rocked his hips against him – drawing a few low noises in response. “But we both know this doesn’t bother you, not really.”

Tony’s eyes were dark and intense where they briefly met Justin’s. “You don’t want me to stop.”

There was no reason to treat that like a question, no reason to answer it. Saying nothing would’ve been just fine. But against his will and what self-esteem he had left Justin found the word forcing itself from his mouth.

“N-no.”

Tony seemed to like that. His mouth and one hand continued a near-assault on Justin’s body, while the other reached down between them to remove his underwear.

That taken care of Tony gripped around the base of his cock. Justin set his teeth, neck craning back, trying – and failing – not to make a sound.

Tony sat up, eyeing Justin’s erection. “Not just yet,” he said – it was impossible to tell from his tone whether that was a statement or an order. But his fingers tightened securely, guaranteeing that to be impossible.

And then he quickly bent down, to repeat that same motion with his tongue he’d performed earlier on the lollipop.

“Oh g-g-god,” Justin gasped, practically shrieking. “Fuck.”

Forget evilest man on the planet. Try evilest in the whole goddamn universe.

With his free hand, Tony was putting the condom on himself (he used his teeth to open the wrapper. Of course). Then he slicked his fingers up with lube.

Justin tried not to all-out whimper as Tony steadily worked his fingers inside of him.

“Please…please…”

“What’s the matter? Can’t wait just a little more?” Tony returned, amazingly flippant for the situation. He drew a shallow breath as he slid the head of his own cock inside Justin’s ass.

“Don’t worry.” Tony’s voice turned low and rough, somewhat unsteady, as he got himself into a better position. “Something tells me that this isn’t gonna take very long.”

He pushed himself in the rest of the way. The whole time he still kept that hold on Justin’s shaft, keeping him from coming. His free arm he slid beneath the other man’s back, holding him to him, upper bodies pressed together as all the action was in Tony’s hips.

He gave a few slow, shallow thrusts then quickly picked up the pace as he lapsed into a desired rhythm.

Justin stared blindly up at the ceiling, caught somewhere between pleasure and pain, between desire and release. He jerked and writhed beneath Tony’s weight as he pumped into him, his knees bumping, his nails curling and clutching into Tony’s shoulders and upper back, not trying to be gentle but in fact hoping he dug in hard enough to bruise.

He couldn’t even feel the heat of arc reactor where it touched his abdomen anymore – he was hot and sweaty and raw all over, his senses alive to the point of being overwhelmed. He gasped and grunted and sighed, a nonsensical litany he was sure Tony somehow understood anyway: mixed between “Don’t stop” and an endless train of “Please, please, please”. He tugged at Tony’s hair and nipped at him with his teeth, but mostly he hung on for dear life.

In between Tony’s own panting and grunting were just distinguishable the words “Almost…there”, and then “Yes”, and he gave a single, almost clumsy rake to Justin’s cock with his palm, before letting go at last.

Tony pulled halfway out and otherwise froze as he came with a sharp moan. Justin was only a few heartbeats behind, letting out a slow painful-sounding breath.

Once finished, Tony lingered, his upper body seeming to sag as he rested his weight heavily on his arms. Still beneath him, Justin’s every muscle had tensed and then just as rapidly liquidated. He basically lay there on his back, head lolling, lost in his own world.

Slowly Tony pulled away, pulling out. He tied up the condom and threw it in the nearby trashcan, then glanced down at where Justin’s own release was smeared across his stomach. Halfheartedly he rubbed his hand on it then wiped his hand on the sheets.

Watching him, Justin rolled onto his elbows, and then managed to sit up.

Tony was on the edge of the bed now as he picked up the tumbler still sitting beside it.

“So,” he remarked, as he sipped, “I think that was pretty fun.”

Justin gave a short laugh. “I don’t even know what that was,” he confessed.

“But it wasn’t bad,” Tony part asked, part stated, as he took another drink. Justin slid back down to lay on his stomach with a mumble.

“No. No, it wasn’t.”

He couldn’t help an annoyed frown, though, as he realized Tony was smirking.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. How childish is it to resent the fact that I showed you a good time?” Tony remarked.

“Couldn’t have had it without me,” Justin grumbled, which didn’t even make sense.

But that tended to be the kind of thing that came out of his mouth when he was around Tony Stark. And that was normally without having been fucked out of his senses.

Instead of calling Justin on that and making a mocking retort, however, Tony just gave a sort of fond grin.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he said, and reaching over he absently draped the sheet across Justin to partially cover him.

Justin really didn’t know what to say to that.

“I am not falling asleep here,” he eventually muttered, although he’d already closed his eyes.

“Sure. No, of course not.” There was a soft clink as Tony set his glass down. “You just rest your head awhile.”

In spite of his intentions and proclamation, Justin could already feel himself getting comfortable.

Which, of course, was when he heard the distinct though faint sound of heels on hardwood - and realized that somebody else was in the house.

“Tony? Why are all the lights off?” a voice called.

Justin’s eyes popped open, but he couldn’t move. He had a very distrusting suspicion that horrible timing on this grand a scale couldn’t possibly be an accident.

But Tony stayed where he was, looking perfectly at ease. “Hey Pepper,” he called back.

“What are you doing?” Her voice and footsteps grew steadily closer.

Tony leaned back slightly, glass turning in his hand. There was a faint smile playing about his features.

“Well. Remember how we were talking, and you said we could get a puppy?” He sipped his drink.

“I found one that I wanted. And I’ve just finished breaking him in.”

>>45132
holyshit this fic is hot.

I AM NOT LETTING THIS THREAD DIE!!

>>45135

Great fic! Unf x's 10 to Hammer being tied up by Tony. Did not even know I wanted until I read it.

Are Justin and Jack Hammer (aka Weasel) related?

>>46193

Hot diggity!

Yeah.

Makes me laugh, so hard.

Know what...we need a Vanko thread to even things out. Tony has his, Hammer too. How about a thread dedicated to a man who looks like he fights bears, on a mountain, in a blizzard...shirtless.

>>46882
I can dig this.

>>46882

I lol'd a little too hard

Revival, so to speak.

more shit i draw.

>>42305

Lol at file name. xD