
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6883120.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Avengers_(Marvel_Movies), The_Avengers_(Marvel)_-_All_Media_Types,
      The_Avengers_-_Ambiguous_Fandom, Avengers:_The_Initiative, Marvel
      Cinematic_Universe, Marvel_(Movies), Marvel
  Relationship:
      Steve_Rogers/Tony_Stark
  Character:
      Steve_Rogers, Tony_Stark
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Slavery, Alternate_Universe_-_Medieval, Alternative
      Universe_-_Kingdom, Conqueror!Steve, prince!Tony, top!steve, bottom!tony,
      Age_Difference, Underage!Tony, Extremely_Dubious_Consent, Public
      Claiming, Public_Sex, Exhibitionism, Sounding, Butt_Plugs, Nipple_Clamps,
      NoShame!Steve, Public_Nudity, Public_Humiliation, PWP, Plot_What_Plot/
      Porn_Without_Plot, Cap-Ironman_Bingo_2016_Round_1, cap-ironman_bingo
      fill, Stony_Bingo, pillories, spreader_bar, Rape/Non-con_Elements,
      Young!Tony
  Collections:
      Captain_America/Iron_Man_Bingo
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-05-17 Words: 2846
****** Claiming a Fallen Prince ******
by Agent_C_(arh581958)
Summary
     Steve rises up to take the throne after winning against Stane's
     Regency. However, as custom dictates, he must claim someone of the
     old regime in order to fully gain his rightful place. His eyes are
     set on only one--the fallen prince, Tony.
Notes
     WARNINGS: This is the darkest story I've written so far. Please be
     warned of the tags, I places as many triggers as I could read without
     giving away everything. If any of those are your triggers, please
     turn back now because this story isn't for you. It's after a way so
     expect some character deaths but none are explicitly mentioned. Hell,
     I didn't name any of the characters except for Steve and Tony.
     CAP_IRONMAN_BINGO_2016_ROUND_1: [S1] bondage
See the end of the work for more notes
Steve Rogers sat on still-warm throne. Regent King Obadiah’s lifeless body lay
on the ground by his feet, throat slit and gushing with blood. Finally, months
after they first laid siege Stane’s abuse of power, the old monarchy has fallen
and with it came a new kingdom’s dawn—one led by the people and by the people.
“Commander Rogers!” One of his knights rushed into the bloody throne room.
“Good. You found him.” Steve’s lips twitched into a smirk. He leaned heavily on
one knee and gestured two fingers for the knight to come closer. “Whose chamber
did you find him in?”
The young knight swallowed. “My Lord, the prince wasn’t—Stark wasn’t in the
castle.”
“Oh, really?” It peaked Steve’s interest. “Then tell me where you found him.”
“In the battle field, sir, in a suit of armor.”
Curiosity gave way to intrigue. “He was fleeing.”
However, the knight shook his head. “No, sir, he was fighting.”
“And where is he now?”
“Captain Carter awaits your orders, sir. He is ready to be delivered to your
new rooms once you’re chosen one.”
Steve thought about this for a good few minutes before deciding. Of the many
lavish apartments in the castle, he only really wanted to see one.  “Take him
to his old chambers. I suppose it’ll make him feel at home. And, tell Captain
Carter to ensure that he’s properly prepared.”
“Yes, sir!”
Too long, the heir to the last reigning family allowed for the towns and outer
villages to suffer. He licked his lips and watched the knight scamper out of
the chambers to do as told.
***
Victory was bittersweet. Night fell over the conquered kingdom. With the castle
secured, Steve allowed the survivors g their dead with dignity. They raised a
large fire in view of the bordering villages for the corpses to burn. Too many
died in the onslaught of battle. The Howling Commandos tallied their dead, and
the figures weren’t easy to stomach.
***
Commotion near his new bed chambers welcomed Steve. His knights had their round
shields up and their weapons drawn. From inside came a racket of voices,
shouting and cursing, followed by the clang of silver and metal.  
“What is the meaning of this?” He demanded with a voice that made grown men
jump from their boots. “What in heavens name is happening in there?!” He tore
through the group with blind determination, intent of gaining passage one way
or another.
“My Lord,” they instantly bowed then they saw him.
“It’s the captive.” One said.
“He is being… disobedient.” Said another.
Steve dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “Stand guard. I will handle the
matter myself.”
“But, my lord…” the man nearest the door opposed. “The prince is no delicate
flower.”
“Neither am I.” He growled, pushing the man aside. “No one is to enter without
my explicit instructions. Am I understood?” All his men nodded.
Inside, the dim room was lit only by the weak fire. Logs lay heavily on one
side of the small alcove. The rest of the room hid greatly in shadows. Movement
from the bed caught his eye, and jangling of thick chains reached his ears.
“I fold to no man.” A voice crept from the darkness. Steve let the silence
prolong. He casually strode further into the space, collapsing of a large
wooden chair draped in thick pelts. There was a growl and more clanking. “Stay
out of my room!”
He heard the swish of something thin cutting through the air. Too far. Too
weak. Too easy. He never flinched as it embedded into the wall just behind his
head. Or perhaps, he miscalculated. Something stung. Raising his hand, he
touched the top of his ear and it came away red. The irony was too great; a
clean injury-free battle and yet he bleeds in his own chambers—he laughs.
“Lucky shot.” He grinned, bringing the bloodied fingers to his lips. He licked
them clean while staring into the abyss. He could feel the fallen prince’s eyes
glaring at him, refusing to look away. Once done, he gripped the hilt of dagger
and licked the blade clean.
“Tony,” he said, breaking the pregnant tension. “You can throw everything away.
Sooner or later, you will run out of things to throw, and then it shall be my
turn.”
Tony took it as a challenge and soon objects of random shapes and sizes came
hurling from the bed. Steve blocked them all with the dagger in hand without
bothering to stand. It was over in an instant. A frustrated yell came from the
shadows. Chains rattled against the bed posts, frantic and wild like an animal
seeking to escape.
Steve’s lips curled into a smile. “Finally,” he bared his teeth, “it’s my
turn.” He stomped to the bed with powerful strides and climbed onto the plush
mattress without hesitation. He shoved the heavy chains away, uncaring for the
yelp of
“No.” His captive fought. “Don’t touch me.”
“Should you have behaved; I would have been more benevolent but you insult my
kindness by acting like a spoiled brat.”
“I am no brat. I am a prince!” It came with such ferocity that Steve could bare
the dark no more. He tore away the curtains which blocked then from the fire.
Light flooded onto the pelts and he could see.
Tony Stark, heir to the throne, a boy at the cusp of youth, spread out bare as
the day he was born. He inherited the last queen’s beauty: long black hair
darker than the starless night, skin delicate and soft like it had never seen
the sun, lashes which could create gusts of wind with every flutter, and
eyes—deep brown stormy eyes burning with fire. Steve yearned to get burned.
He watched with perverted glee as thick chains held Tony down, wrists and
ankles encircled by cast iron with long brawny chains. The prince fought
against them to no avail. It moved against him now that Steve gracefully fell
over him.
 “Tell me, prince, what good are you without a kingdom?” He asked, leaning in
to breathe the words on top of Tony’s lips. He felt the sharp intake of breath
from the torso between his thighs. “My troops have laid siege and we have won.
Do you really believe that your allies would go to war to save you? When they
can enter new alliances with me?”
“You—you—!” The words never finished. Instead, thick bubbly spit struck Steve’s
face, making Tony smirk. “There is no honor in stealing a throne. You don’t
that crown.”
At that, Steve boiled in anger. He gripped the prince by the neck, restricting
the passage of air. The body stopped fighting from beneath him. “You speak so
highly of yourself, Stark. What honor lies with cowering behind a greedy old
lecher when you could have saved your people?”
Tony chocked but it did not stop his response. “Fuck you, Rogers, fuck you.”
Steve licked his lips one more time, easing his hold. He held Tony by the
weight of his stronger body—thighs straddling hips, and hands holding wrists.
It was the wrong more. Given even a fraction of freedom, Tony took an acre. He
swung his legs, aiming to knee Steve’s back. It failed miserably and served
only to anger the taller man.
“Fine.” Steve barked sharply. “I had intended on taking you gently tonight.
But, as it is, our first time will be tomorrow at the claiming.” He said it to
see the fear in spark in Tony’s eyes. He grinned predatorily. “Oh yes, my
prince, I intend to take you for myself—and, as it is, I’m going to enjoy
myself.”
 “No, don’t—” Tony whimpered upon realizing his position. His cries reached
closed ears. The curtains sealed him once more in darkness. Steve marched out
of the room with a triumphant grin, satisfied for tonight.
***
Morning brought new promise. Their customs came from those they now called
barbarians. In order to oust the previous regime, a public claiming must be
made of the remaining household members. There hasn’t been a claiming for the
past fifty years that the Starks have ruled. Now, they must pay the price for
the kingdom to rebuild from the ashes.
Steve sat on the king’s throne. He wasn’t king, not yet, not until he impales
the last heir on his cock. Then, and only then, could he be called the new
ruler of the land.
They planned the war for years, fought in battle for months, and waited day for
the perfect window of weakness. He can easily wait a few more hours. He viewed
with mild disinterest as old court members filed beside the stage, claimed one
by one by his commanders, his knights, and his gentry. Men and women, but
children were spared, wore nothing but their tattered clothes.
It was early afternoon when the trumpets sang, announcing the final slave to be
taken.
Steve rose from his perch and walked slowly down the steps, eyes glued on his
prize. How he wished that he could have prepared the soon-to-be slave himself
instead of waiting under the heated sunlight.
Tony stepped out of the castle with his chin pointed to the sky. He looked at
no one, spoke to no one, as he made his way to the platform. He walked in the
same manner as if he was the one claiming instead of being claimed, like he
still wore the luxuries of his thick pelts or royal armor—except he was naked
and bare for all of the people to see.
Unlike the others, he was adorned in jewelry as a symbol of his status. Gold,
gold, and rubies, from the tips of his ears to the spaces between his toes.
Steve gazed at each embellishment with unabashed want.
Tony bore a thick golden collar encrusted with rich red rubies around his neck.
It rested just at hallow of his neck with fine golden mesh draped around his
shoulder. His wrists and ankles had solid gold cuffs. His dark brown nipples
were pinched taunt by ruby bejeweled clamps. Steve’s eyes travelled down to the
chain which held the Stark Medallion dangling close to Tony’s navel.
His eyes ventured lower to what he wanted the most; Tony’s small boyish cock
was caged with a jeweled urethral sound which doubled as a cock ring. It stood
high and proud between the royal’s legs.  If only they were in the safety of
his chambers, Steve would gladly take that in his mouth.
Tony’s eyes were as fierce as last night. He blatantly glared at the soon-to-be
king but wisely said nothing. Steve smirked to himself as Tony maneuvered into
place—hips over a tall bench, neck and wrists into the pillory, and legs spread
by a bar at his feet. Something red and shiny winked from between the prince’s
cheeks.
Steve licked his lips and shamelessly spread the cheeks wide, earning his very
first sound from the silent Tony. At the crease, oil glinted with the light and
slipping down Tony’s thighs. Steve traced the trickle with a finger before
touching the base of the plug. He pressed on it gently and another mewl came
from the fallen prince.
“Steve.”
Steve broke.
“Look at them, Tony.” He hissed, forcing Tony’s head up with a fist-full of
hair. “They are the people you failed when you hid behind Obadiah Stane. All
these people used to believe in you and for what?” He pulled the plug free and
it dangle between Tony’s legs. Beads, Steve realized, were still inside. He
shoved his fingers through the loose ring of muscle.
Tony chocked but didn’t scream. Steve could see his hands, how they clenched
and unclenched at nothing but empty air. Empty like the hopes of their once
great kingdom in his hands.
“So you can keep your pretty little head away from reality?” He against the
beads between the soft wet channel. He couldn’t wait to sink his cock inside
the heat of Tony’s body. “Beg, Tony.” He ordered, pulling out his cock and
rubbing it on the pink pucker. “Beg them,Tony, and I’ll fuck you full of their
forgiveness.”
Tony kept silent.
It enflamed a fury inside Steve that he’d almost forgotten.
“So prideful, my prince.” He snarled before biting cleanly on the top of Tony’s
shoulder, making the skin with a perfect circle of his teeth. “Beg!”
“Steve, please…”
“Beg!” He yelled with a force that echoes the plaza. He pulled out his cock
from the confines of his breeches. Tony had started to whimper but otherwise
said no word apart from his name. He couldn’t take it, couldn’t hold it,
couldn’t keep his sanity together when Tony kept whispering his name like it
was a prayer.
He gathered the fallen slick from Tony’s ass and lathered up his cock.
Tony sobbed as Steve pressed in, momentarily forgetting his litany of Steve,
please,and curses.
Steve draped over Tony’s back, burying his face in Tony’s nape and smelling the
floral and fruity bath salts that must have come with the bath.
In by agonizing inch, he staked his claim. He held Tony’s shaky hips, feeling
the tremors against the front of his thighs. He didn’t say anything now and
concentrated on a slow tormenting rhythm. The longer this lasted, the better;
he wanted the whole kingdom to know that the fallen prince belonged to him.
Tony continued to quiver, his muscle pulsed around Steve’s cock in a vacuuming
heat.
Steve wanted—how he wanted—to have taken Tony apart, piece by piece, wreaked
under his finger for any other lover in the world, last night. He wanted the
privacy of the bedroom, the intimacy of a familiar space, and a memory of past
they’ve long forgotten.
Everything about this felt so familiar and so wrong. There was no love between
them now but merely a conqueror to his conquest. This was an act, a ritual, a
rite of passage to take over the crown. But he didn’t want this—he wanted Tony.
He wanted the prince sleepy and smiling and sated in his arms, but the stubborn
boy remained unyielding. Steve focused all of his pent-up frustrations into
hitting Tony’s sweet spot. The prince would break in his arms. He would see to
it. Everyone would see how Tony submitted to him, and him alone.  
Yanking the sword from its sheath, Steve broke the metal lock with a mighty
swing. The metal clattered to the floor in piece. He speared the sword beside
his feet and pulled Tony’s torso towards his in a single motion. It made him go
deeper into the prince’s body.
“Beg,” he said one more time, sounding like he was begging instead. “Beg me,
Tony.” His hands dug into Tony’s hips. His face fell in to the middle of Tony’s
sweaty shoulders. He licked at each knob of spine that he could reach. It
tasted like salt and honey and Tony underneath everything. It tasted the same
like it always had. He reached around, pinching the top of Tony’s cock before
tugging the medallion.
Tony fought and squirmed but Steve held firm.
“Steveeeee,” Tony croaked out with a broken voice, hard like gravel and glass.
Steve grinned beside his ear. “Submit to me and beg, Tony.” He pulled on the
ruby clamps, making Tony arch his back. He thrust hard.
Tony cried out—panting and weeping but still unbroken. It wasn’t enough.
Steve stomped onto the board between Tony’s legs and broke it. Not like this.
It wasn’t right. He flipped the slighter man with ease, such that his weight
balance precautious on the bench. He pushed without waiting for Tony to adjust,
all the way to the hilt until his balls rested on Tony’s cheeks. Arms and legs
wrapped instinctively around him.
Like this, he could see Tony’s face, every expression and every emotion in
those brown eyes. Tony was a sight to behold, flushed and sweating and panting
like he’d never been fucked before. Except, Steve personally knew that he had.
He gripped Tony’s legs and brought them to his shoulders, bending Tony in half.
Tony wept. Tears freely fell down his face, dripping to the wood below them.
His mouth opened in a silent scream as Steve hit his insides with precision and
perseverance.
Steve possessed the stamina of a war-hardened knight. When he came, he filled
Tony’s ass with his seed until the edges of the puffy ring lined white and even
then he kept thrusting. Tony’s own impending orgasm stopped by the cock ring
and the sound like he was made for Steve’s pleasure alone. The king-to-be
didn’t stop for his cock remained solid until his second, his third, and fourth
ejaculation into Tony’s used hole.
Tony had gone limp by Steve’s second orgasm.
“Beg, Tony.” Steve whispered softly against Tony’s neck. “Please.”
Only then did Tony move. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders weakly.
His lips at the perfect height of Steve’s ear. “I’m sorry, Steve.”
End Notes
     Story Background: Howard's grandfather upsurged the previous reigning
     monarch in order to make the Stark family the ruling clan. This
     legitimacy has not been questioned until Howard and Maria's tragic
     deaths early in Tony's childhood. Yes, Steve and Tony used to be
     friends but then something happened.
     Notes: This is a one-shot PWP for now. I'm planning to fill-up the S-
     column for my bingo card before time runs out! :D
     As always, kudos/comments/bookmarks are all appreciated by this
     author. I take comments as extra-kudos and I do read the bookmark
     tags (some are really fun).
     If you have a prompt or an idea, you can INSPIRE_ME on tumblr. Or
     TALK_TO_ME.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
