Y'AAAALL! I'm way too excited to start this relationship. The filth will open rise from here so buckle your seat belts. I'm going to go update the tags and try to keep them updated from here. Happy Tuesday, enjoy xo.

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Clint hadn't had this much sleep since before he became an agent of SHIELD. He was utterly exhausted and sore and couldn't stop smiling. He also hadn't smiled this much since...way before SHIELD. Loki was wrapped around him, laying over most of him so he was pushing Clint into the bed and pressed against every tender point of his ass and thighs. 

As his eyes flickered open, the first thing he recognized was the heaviness of his limbs and the lightness of his head. Next was the all-encompassing soreness. Then, the pleasant weight that kept him warm and-

And safe, he realized. He couldn't even be bothered to be bothered by the thought with how far away his head was. The new bruises from Loki's hands were flaring bright in his nerves. He hoped they had colored over the night. 

Loki must've felt him wake because he was kissing the damp hair at Clint's nape and squeezing him tighter. "Pleasant dreams?" he asked. He doesn't remember honestly. His sleep was so deep that he wasn't even sure if he dreamt at all. He only gave a noncommital hum to Loki's question, which clearly wasn't good enough. One of Loki's hands traveled down Clint's side and gripped harshly at his bruised ass. Clint gasped, eyes wide open now. "You will answer me when I speak to you."

"Yes, sir," Clint huffed, surprised at how easily the words fell off his lips. "I don't remember."

Loki released his hold and settled his arm around Clint's waist. "Hmm, too bad. I'd like to know what you dream of when I'm not in control of you."

It was like a threat Clint couldn't comprehend. It made him shiver. "I'll try to remember next time, sir."

Loki's deep chuckle was an irritant and a salve. Clint burned with it. "Very good, Barton." With a firm push to Clint's shoulder, Loki pushed up on an elbow. He knew Loki was looking him over and it bothered him much less than it should. "They are coloring beautifully. You mark up well." Loki hummed. "I think I'll keep you."

He knew Loki was teasing, but it suddenly dawned on him that Loki could choose to stop this whenever he wanted. Suddenly, he was too far from the god; he needed to be closer. Clint scooted the last minuscule inch towards Loki and nuzzled his face into Loki's arm. Loki cooed, half sweet and half mocking, and scratched comfortably at his scalp. "Yes, my archer, I will keep you until you no longer have need of me."

"Always need you," he mumbled, speaking before his brain caught up. 

Loki only sighed and leaned down to kiss his neck. "We will see." He rolled away from Clint, standing gracefully from the bed and plucking a robe that was hanging from a coat rack mounted on the wall. "Rise. We have much to do today." He turned and watched patiently as Clint stumbled out of bed on shaky legs, rubbing his face to wake himself up more. "Follow me," he instructed and Clint did without hesitation.

That would be very bad for business.

Loki dropped the robe on his bathroom counter and only then did Clint realize that at some point during the night, Loki had stripped down to just his smooth, silky boxer briefs. Clint hadn't gotten a chance to really observe Loki's body- at least, not this Loki. He knew his body differed from the other Clint's so he suspected this Loki differed from the one in this universe.

The god's long, lean back stretched to flick the shower on before turning back to Clint. When he saw Clint's roaming eyes and slack mouth, he smiled and snapped his fingers. Clint's gaze jerked up to Loki's and then the dominant pointed a single finger to the floor at his feet and Clint was pulled forward by some unknown willing force inside himself. 

He knelt at Loki's feet and looked up at the man with curiosity. Loki didn't smile, but it was something like it. "You have two minutes to touch me however you like." Clint's mouth fell open, caught off guard by the generous offer, but then Loki raised a brow and said, "Time has started."

Clint's hands lifted instantly but then hovered, unsure where to start. After thinking for what felt like too long, he forewent his hands altogether and pressed his face against Loki's flat lower stomach, just above his soft clothed cock, and inhaled slowly, deeply. Loki tensed but didn't move and Clint took it as permission to continue. He brought his hands down on the outsides of Loki's thighs, not squeezing, not grabbing just touching. They were small but deceivingly well-defined.

His palms slid up over his underwear and to his stomach as he pulled his face back enough to watch his own hands touching the untouchable. Loki's stomach muscles clenched under his ministration, fascinating Clint into pressing his thumbs into the ridges and curves. He smoothed his hands up higher, fingers rippling across his Loki's pink nipples, making the god inhale sharply. Clint filed that away for use at a later date.

He stood slowly, waiting for Loki to reprimand him and shove him back down, but when he didn't, he let his hands move up as he rose. He held Loki's eyes to catch every flicker and reaction. When they were more or less eye level, Clint lowered his gaze to watch his hands skim over Loki's shoulders and down his arms. He had a small inclination to hold Loki's hand but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

Instead, Clint brushed his hands back up the length of Loki's arms, the edges of his fingers brushing through soft hair. One hand flattened out on Loki's chest while the other curled up and around the side of Loki's neck. The god tensed harshly and Clint froze, eyes connecting with Loki's. The dominant man was staring at Clint, not angry but unyielding. Clint lifted both hands away from Loki's body.

"What did I do?" he asked quietly.

Loki softened, visibly relaxed, and Clint watched the warning drain from Loki's eyes. "I don't often allow someone to touch me there without my permission."

Clint pressed his hand to Loki chest again, choosing the safer place first. "Here?" Loki's jaw clenched but he shook his head sharply. The archer's hand slid up so slowly it felt like it was encased in liquid amber until it just barely graced the line of Loki's neck. "Here?"

Loki's hand snapped up and circled around Clint's wrist. "Yes."

The archer nodded, trying to stay calm when he wanted to fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. "I'm sorry," he whispered. 

The green-eyed man huffed a humorless laugh and brought Clint's hand to his mouth for a dry kiss to the plump palm of his hand. "Don't apologize for ignorance. Now, you know better. You won't do it again."

He wouldn't. He never wanted Loki to look at him like. "Yes, sir."

Loki's eyes slipped shut as he inhaled deeply. He released Clint's hand and said. "Would you like to continue?"

Continue what again? "Um...yes." It didn't matter what. He wanted what Loki wanted.

"Go ahead," Loki allowed and held his arms out lazily. Clint realized that meant he was granted permission to touch again and leaned into Loki's body, hands slipping around Loki's waist to his lean back. Clint's lips ghosted across Loki's shoulder as he dug his fingers in just slightly. Loki was physically firm under him but he was the only soft place for Clint to rest his hazy mind. 

"What will you do to me today?" Clint wondered.

Loki exhaled a choppy breath and then Clint felt Loki's hands land on the archer's back. "Would you really like me to tell you or do you want to allow me to lead you blindly, force you to trust me completely?"

Clint's forehead pressed into Loki's shoulder as he bit his lip against a whine. "I don't-" He shook his head and slid his hands persistently up Loki's back. "I want you to lead me," he decided.

"Very good choice, Barton." Loki reached behind himself and pulled Clint's hands off of him. "Get in the shower," he ordered. "My cum is flaking off of you."

Memories of Loki sliding back and forth between his cheeks, denying him everything but giving him so, so much as he pressed Clint's face into the mattress and used him to get off flashed through the submissive's mind. Clint blossomed red as the visuals faded away and he bowed his head under the weight of his humiliation. Loki made an unpleased sound and lifted Clint's head again.

"You will never be ashamed of what I do to you. I will tear you down, make you cry, but you will take your degradation with pride. Understand?" Clint nodded even if he didn't quite believe it yet. "Besides, it's obvious you enjoy it," Loki teased as he slid his boxers down and stepped past the glass and into the shower.

Clint afforded himself just a few seconds to take in the smooth, porcelain body presented to him. There was a secret kind of power in the sinew of Loki's form; he didn't look like a threat in comparison to some of Clint's teammates, or even Loki's own brother, but there was no doubt that Loki could use his strength to put Clint into a few precarious positions.

"Barton?" Loki called, brow raised and an amused smirk on his face. "Coming?"

Eagerly, the archer nodded and stepped into the shower, swinging the glass door shut behind him. The water was hot- not just hot; it burned against Clint's skin. He couldn't imagine what it would feel like against his ass if he turned around. Loki was apparently in the same vein of thought because he gripped Clint's shoulder and forced him to turn. Clint yipped a cut-off sound when the steaming liquid splashed against the bruises Loki had left the night before. 

Loki's fingers slid around Clint's flushed cheek and coerced their way between his tightly-pressed lips. He yanked Clint's mouth open and pressed down on the back of his tongue, making the agent gag just a little bit. The god leaned in, his front- and pointedly hard erection- pressed to Clint's back. "If I wanted your sounds subdued, I would muzzle you. Your screams are the best part," he informed Clint, who shuddered at the information. 

"Yes, sir," he tried to answer around the intrusion. 

"Good," Loki praised, short and even. He retracted his fingers and stepped back again, letting the water assault Clint's skin once more. Clint didn't tamp down on his gasp this time, wincing through the pain. His breathing was coming in curt puffs as he steadied himself to keep from falling. He was so out of his element, so deep under the pleasure of having what he'd always wanted, that he was pretty far away when a stinging hand came down on his ass.

"Oh, fuck!" Clint yelped and an arm went out, searching for balance and finding none. He stumbled forward a step but then Loki's hand was on his shoulder, straightening him. 

"Hold still," Loki warned, and Clint could tell it was the only one he would get. The archer widened his stance, resisting the temptation to reach back and sooth the pain. The hand came down again, making a wet sound as water splashed into the air, and Clint's mouth fell open on a groan, fingers curling into fists at his side. 

Loki was a god. His strength was probably at a level Clint couldn't even dream of, so he could tell that the dark-haired man was holding back. "More, please," Clint murmured, head lilting low as he said it. Loki didn't waste a second. His hand came down a little harder the moment Clint finished speaking. It hurt, and it was good, but he needed more. "Harder," he whined.

In the next second, his chin was in a vise-like grip and his neck was wrenched back toward the god. Loki hissed in his ear, "Do not attempt to goad me, archer. You will not like what you receive." Clint doubted that very much, but Loki sounded like vengeance and he didn't want to test the theory. Maybe someday. "You will take what I give you and worship me for it," Loki continued.

"Yes, sir," Clint offered obediently. 

Loki released him and came around to look Clint in the eye. "You've lost the right to touch me until I say otherwise," he notified his lover. Clint opened his mouth to argue, but Loki's eyes glistened with a violent shade of green and he digressed. 

"Now. I will often enjoy washing you. I like to inspect my belongings to ensure quality if I'm to use them." Clint exhaled shakily. Loki ignored him. "Each morning I will decide your attire. I will decide what you should eat, if anything, depending on your behavior." 

Loki halted, narrowed his eyes in thought, then said, "I don't need to see your face to tell you this. On your knees."

Clint dropped like Loki had flicked a switch in him, and only after he was kneeling and looking up the god did he register the embarrassment. Loki stepped forward, hard cock sliding against Clint's cheek as he shifted their positions so the god was under the hot spray and water rained down in sludges over Clint's face and shoulders. He wrapped loose fingers around himself and leaned his hips in. Loki's wet, heavy sac bumped Clint's chin. "Here. Suck on them."

The archer bit down on his moan, but then remembered Loki's request and open his mouth to let his dominant partner hear the tail end of it. He tilted his head in, flicking his tongue out to swipe against one ball then the other. Loki hooked a finger inside Clint's bottom teeth and held his mouth open as he crammed, first one, then both of his balls into Clint's mouth. Clint's eyes went heavy, slipped shut like the weight on his tongue was directly attached to his psyche. 

"Better," Loki purred and rolled his hips, balls swiveling on Clint's tongue and his cock slipping over Clint's nose and eye as he grabbed the shampoo from the shelf on the wall. "As I was saying," he continued and lathered up his hair, "you will greet me on your knees when I return home to you, naked and prepped unless I instruct otherwise." He reached a soapy hand down and stroked a gentle thumb- in direct opposition to how he grinded against Clint's mouth- across the archer's cheek, leaving a possessive trail of white bubbles like war paint.

Clint could barely keep his eyes open; he was sinking fast and Loki was right there with him, leading him the whole way down. Loki rinsed his hair before looking down at Clint with hunger in his eyes. "You have no say in how I use your body. You have no autonomy. In fact," Loki spat and gripped Clint's hair roughly in his hand, "there is no you. You are 'it'. My it. Understand?" 

That was a question, Clint realized. Loki had asked him a question. Fuck. He tracked back through the last couple words Loki had said, trying to piece them together when he just wanted to come apart. My it. Understand? He wasn't his own anymore. He belonged to Loki. It felt obvious. He nodded fervidly and sucked harder on Loki's soft sac.

Loki only smiled, small and part mischief, as he praised, "Good boy," and continued to wash himself while Clint waited patiently on his knees, looking up to his god and his master.

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Is anyone alive? We all good? We're just getting started but I LOVE the dynamic here. See you next week! Mwah! Xoxo, Jess