Iron-Hawk Short Stories

I Need You (3/3) [NSFW???]

AN: we have come to the end of our epic trilogy. I'm surprised at how many of you actually like this fucked up sorta plot??? YALL INTO SOME DARK SHIT AND I LOVE IT.

Third Person's POV

He knew this was fucked up. There was no part of this that was okay or humane for that matter.

He stood in the bathroom with a gun in his hands. He stared at the weapon for a while, it would only take one shot. One shot for this hell to end. He pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple and his index finger hovered over the trigger.

His hands shook. He scoffed to himself as he realized he couldn't do it. He couldn't shoot himself even though he wanted an out.

He placed the weapon back down on the bathroom countertop and stared at himself in the mirror.

Five months. It had only been five months, but it felt like this had been going on for years. Everyday Stark found equally fucked up ways to torture him whether it be physically or mentally.

At one point he tried starving himself and when that was about to work somehow the man coaxed him into eating. It didn't take much, a couple of soft whispers and gentle touches and Stark got him to eat.

When he stopped paying attention to his hygiene; somehow the other man made sure he was kept clean. It almost made it seem like Stark cared about him which fucked with him even more.

"What are you doing?" A voice broke him away from his thoughts. He turned his head and found Stark leaning against the doorframe. The other man's eyes turned to the gun on the counter. "What is it? You can't do it?"

"What do you want?" He whispered, his voice was stuck between a desperate cry and a growl. Stark stepped inside the bathroom and touched the younger man's face. He didn't have the energy to fight.

"To see if you blew out your pretty brain or not." Stark mumbled and for a moment their gaze met. "You know, you look adorable when you cry. You should do it more often."

His breath hitched at the statement. His eyes must have still been swollen. "If you don't need anything, leave me alone."

Tony hummed and pulled his hand away. "Take off your clothes. Get in the bath."

His eyes fluttered, and he bit his lip at the request.

The brunette walked towards the bathtub and kneeled down to turn on the water. His hand reached out towards the gun once again, he hesitantly brought it towards the back of the other man's head.

One shot for this hell to end.

"Do it." Stark said without turning around. "C'mon, you have the opportunity. So why don't you shoot?" His hand continued to shake as he held the gun. A moment passed before the man turned and stood on his feet. "What's wrong baby? Hm? Can't do it?"

There was a tightness in his throat, he felt like throwing up. Stark took a step closer towards him, then another. The gun was eventually lightly pressing against the playboy's head.

"I'm practically giving it to you now." The man grinned and continued to study him. "You've killed before, what's wrong with adding one more body to the count?"

He flinched when Stark took a hold of his hand and their fingers hovered over the trigger. He felt tears sting his eyes once again, why was he crying? He should be relieved that he has the chance to make it all end but why was he so unsettled?

"Shh. It's alright." The man whispered and slowly pulled the gun away from his hands. "I got you." Why was his voice so fucking comforting? Why was everything about him so inviting when it shouldn't have been?