MisaSugar: Hey there! Misa here. We're currently posting this fic on FF, but it will eventually be cross-posted to AO3 as well. This is honest-to-god pure PWP. That's ALL it is. I promise you, there is NO plot. It's two writers trying to impress each other and the resulting porn, for your pleasure.

That being said, we'll be covering an awful lot of kinks here, because we like kinks. Some of these kinks you may not like. Because of that, we'll be sure to slather each chapter with copious warnings if we feel you may be offended. Because this is honestly PURE PWP, you can just skip over the chapters that have stuff that squicks you, and still enjoy the rest of the fic. (See what we did there?)

On the other side of the coin, if you have a filthy secret kink that you're just dying to see in delicious Frostiron form, please do pitch it to us! There's a very, very short list of things we won't do, and it's basically comprised of killing either character (because then we wouldn't have a fic) or any sort of eye damage (because I'm scotomaphobic) so really, anything else? Throw it our way. We'll give it serious consideration. Unless it means seriously altering the storyline or fic's universe, we'll probably do it. (Like, if you ask us to make Loki into a six-year-old, that probably won't happen because continuity. And laws. XD)

SheSomeoneSo: Hey, I'm Lost. I'm rubbish with these authors notes, but Misa asked me to write one. Expect a lot more from us in the future. DEUCES

Misa: I'm the talkative one. :D

Fury leveled a skeptical, one-eyed glare at the pair of Asgardians cluttering up his hallway. "What do you mean you can't get back?"

Thor shifted uneasily. "With the Bifrost destroyed, our father-" Loki snorted over his muzzle in defiance at the title, "-has only the strength to summon one of us home."

"You're telling me that we're stuck with one of you for an indefinite amount of time and there's nothing any of you so-called gods can do about it?" Fury looked ready to pop a blood vessel. Then again, he always looked like that.

Thor hung his head, looking for all the world like an oversized, unwanted puppy. "Until the Bifrost can be rebuilt, or another method of retrieval discovered, yes. Father already expended a great energy to send me here - he cannot bring us both back in his condition. Obviously, my brother must return alone. He must face Asgardian justice-"

"Oh hell no." Fury cut him off. "You think I'm sending an inter-dimensionally wanted criminal into the outer reaches of space, unaccompanied and holding that?" He pointed sharply at the Tesseract that Thor held to emphasize his point. Fury wasn't sure if 'inter-dimensionally' was a word, and if it was the right word if it was, but it sounded appropriate.

Thor paused. "He cannot stay here. He must face-"

"Look, Odinson, I don't mean to cut short your broken record track, but this isn't up for discussion. The Tesseract needs to be far out of our hands. It needs to be in Asgard, and only you can get it there. You go. He stays."

Thor looked ready to argue some more, but just then Tony Stark decided to make an appearance.

"Ah, you look busy, I'll just-" He crinkled his nose, in that satirical way of his, and moved to turn back the way he had come.

"Actually Stark, I was just thinking about you. How's that pretty tower of yours?"

Tony frowned, his eyes flitting over the two Asgardians as he answered, "Pretty as ever."

"Still the most secure building in New York City?"

"Likely the world." He said, grinning slyly, before the light left his eyes. "How long?"

"Not long, he would only need to stay there until he could be sent back to Asgard."

Thor's brow furrowed as he looked between the two humans. "Stay where?" He asked, but they paid him no mind.

"And how long do you suppose that's going to take? You ever heard that saying, Nick? A man's house is his castle?"

"You have a tower, Stark. A tower that happens to be the only place worthy to store a god for a couple of weeks..."

Fury watched as the man's features softened in defeat. "Does he have an overnight bag or something?"

"I'm sure you can take care of the necessities." Fury gave a rare, uncharacteristic smile, clearly glad that he'd successfully passed the buck. The problem of Loki Laufeyson was now out of his hands and into Stark's tower. "Thor, escort them back to Stark Tower before you take your leave."

Thor looked between the two of them, clearly still trying to catch up with what had just transpired. He was definitely too far behind to even attempt an argument. Loki fumed next to him, clearly not happy with being passed around so carelessly.

Tony turned toward the door. "Come on, Rapunzel, we have a tower to lock you in." He let out a whistle. "Mama Steve's not gonna be happy about this."

As it turned out, no, Mama Steve was not happy about it.

"And you actually agreed to this?" Steve asked for the five hundred and twenty-seventh time. "You actually agreed to this?" Five hundred and twenty-eighth.

"Fury's orders." Tony repeated, for the four hundred and seventy-third time. He hadn't quite caught up to Steve.

"Horsefeathers." The seriousness of Steve's argument was completely lost when brought into contact with his outdated slang, but Tony didn't comment on that. "It's your tower, he doesn't have the right to tell you what to do with it. Normally you'd be complaining. Why aren't you complaining? Why did you agree to this?" Five hundred and twenty-nine.

"He's not causing any trouble. Gotta put him somewhere. I mean, I suppose we could always freeze him in a great chunk of ice. That worked for you."

"It's not safe bringing him here. It's like letting the enemy into your base of operations. Actually, that's exactly what it is." Steve looked agitated. This was only the beginning, Tony knew. Every one of the Avengers was going to want an explanation. Not for why Loki was there, but for why Tony was okay with him being there. What confused Steve was obviously Tony's complete lack of even trying to fight Fury on this. Well, he wasn't going to answer any questions on why he wanted Loki there. That was none of Steve's business.

Tony feigned an exhausted sigh. "Look, I don't want him here anymore than you do. But it's my problem for now, and if he wreaks havoc, then it'll be Fury's problem. Don't worry your pretty little head thinking about it, you might strain something."

Steve scowled, but he seemed momentarily placated, and dropped the subject. Now to go through the same spiel with the rest of them.

After making sure his brother was secure and comfortable in his new residence - or as comfortable as he'd be chained up in a small cell, lightyears from home - Thor pulled Tony aside for a moment.

"Man of Iron, I do not agree with this plan of action," he began, looking worried.

"I know, big guy, but this is what we've got to work with. Appealing to me won't get your brother home any faster." Tony clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly.

Thor shook his head. "I know I cannot change what has been decided. However, I know my brother. He will find a way out. And when he does, you will be in grave danger."

Tony chuckled. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before. What's he gonna do, push me out a window?"

Thor's face remained serious. "I do not want my brother to die, but I do not want my friends injured either." He held out a thin, leather-sheathed dagger. "Take this. In case you need to defend yourself."

Tony looked at the knife skeptically. "You're worried about me getting hurt, so you give me a letter-opener to defend myself with? You have been present for all our battles with Loki, right? Somehow I don't think a butter knife is going to stop him."

Thor shook his head. "It is an ancient Asgardian artifact, and one of the few weapons resistant to my brother's sorcery. If you must protect yourself, his magic will be unable to block this blade, nor can it heal wounds left by it."

Tony looked at the dagger with renewed interest. "Oh, well, in that case..." He reached to grab it, but Thor's fingers clenched around it tightly.

"Before I give it to you, promise me, Man of Iron. Promise me you will not kill my brother with this weapon. Promise me you will never use it unless you must."

A wide smile graced Tony's features. "Don't worry, Blondie. The gazelle is safe here. I promise, we won't kill your brother."

Thor's features relaxed, his eyes trusting, and he let Tony take the blade, not knowing what he was dooming his baby brother to.

His cell was sound-proof; foot-thick glass reinforced with thick steel beams. At one side, there was a toilet and a showerhead with a drain two inches across set into the floor below it. Loki shuddered at the thought of having no privacy whatsoever. It had only been a few hours, and already his body was itching to escape. He looked out onto four empty white walls. Solitude was maddening.

What could he possibly do to escape? Even his infamous silver-tongue was trapped within his mouth.

His silver tongue... He grinned, as a thought struck him. 'Let's never forget the importance of body language.'

He tugged experimentally on his chains. His wrists were cuffed together and chained to the floor in front of him, and a collar around his neck trailed another chain down his back, also bolted to the floor. He had enough slack to walk around the room, almost to the cell walls, but he still couldn't shake the feeling of being on a leash.

He sat down heavily, stretching out as much as the chains would allow, wondering when he'd next have the chance to put his plans into motion. He just needed Stark in his cell with him, just a brief moment of distraction, and he could be out of there as quickly as he'd walked in.

He knew it wouldn't be so simple, the Iron Man wasn't so easily fooled, but perhaps with the proper motivation his attention might slip. He made a small change, nothing too terribly noticeable. Though now his suit lacked an undershirt, and his pants were that much tighter. He laid there, as pathetically and helpless as he could, contemplating his moment and when it might come.

As it happens, his moment was delayed for several hours. Until after he'd fallen asleep and woken twice. He couldn't say for certain whether it was night or day, his cell without windows, or any means to keep time, but judging from the human's appearance, he had a good feeling it was late in the evening.

Stark entered the cell as if he lived there and Loki resisted the urge to glare at him. No privacy whatsoever, indeed. The mortal was dressed in comfortable black jeans and a black T-shirt, the glowing circle of light in his chest shining through the cloth. He smirked at Loki infuriatingly.

Loki watched him from the floor, contemplating how best to approach this man. Stark was intelligent, generally a step ahead of his enemies, and he adapted to unfavorable situations very quickly. But Loki was the God of Mischief, and he was far more clever than a mere human.

"What are you lying on the floor for? Get up." Stark looked around the cell he'd designed. "Mmm, have to put a cot in here or something..."

Loki slid to his feet slowly, hands trailing suggestively up his thighs as he rose, chains clinking, eyes locked on Stark's in a look that clearly said 'I know what I'd like to use that cot for...' Stark raised his eyebrows in interest, obviously getting the message, and Loki smirked behind the metal muzzle that kept him silent. Oh yes, no mortal could possibly resist the advances of the God of-

"If you're trying to seduce me, knock it off."

Loki's triumph crumbled and he tried to salvage his annoyance by covering his scowl with a look of innocent confusion. Stark wasn't fooled for a second.

"Don't act cute and don't think I can't see what you're trying to do. Being seductive is my specialty. Your specialty is getting your ass kicked."

Loki glared at Stark with hatred, snarling behind the muzzle. Stark leaned over to pick up the chain that was connected to his collar off the floor, rolling the links in his hand thoughtfully as he gazed at his captive. "Now, now, let's have none of that. My tower, my cell, my rules." He jerked the chain just enough for Loki to yelp in surprise, but not enough to hurt. It earned Stark another glare, this time laced with a haughty condescension.

"They say we ridicule others for what we despise in ourselves." Stark smiled, slowly walking in a circle around Loki, almost appearing amused. "If I'm honest, I've felt that before. The need to destroy something because it showed me a reflection I didn't like. It's what you see when you look at us. At humanity."

Loki glared at him over his muzzle, eyes blazing with fury, just barely disguising a slowly rising panic. Stark only continued to smile.

He twisted the chain leash slowly around his hand. "What was it you said before? That we crave subjugation? That we were made to be ruled? And that, in the end, we would always kneel?" A sharp jerk backward had Loki emitting a muffled cry of pain, rage, terror, and a mortifying, betraying arousal. "Sounds intimately familiar, doesn't it?" Another twist and pull and Loki was struggling for breath, anger chasing fear through his veins as quickly as confusion was chasing his excitement.

"The truth is that it's not power you desire, Loki." His own name, hewn from the rough purr of Tony Stark's voice, was nearly drowned out by the pounding in his ears. He felt wonderfully and terribly dizzy. "What you desire is to be dominated, broken, and degraded in the filthiest ways you can possibly imagine." Loki choked, gasping for air as he felt his knees slam into the cement floor when a surprisingly strong hand forced him to the ground.

"The simplest truth, Loki, is that your greatest desire is to kneel."

We apologize for any OOCness, but we're not going to do anything about it. :D - Misa