Hey, y'all. Firstly, Happy Tuesday. Secondly, let me apologize for missing last week's posting. I am dead on my feet and writing volunteer smut is sort of low on the list despite how much I love it. School, work, resume builders, church all come before this and I just couldn't do it all. 

I am going to finish this fic if it kills me but bear with me as I try my very best to keep to the schedule I've set. I'll let you know if I need to change things.

Little warning: this is completely unbeta'd because I thought you guys would want something at least. I will try to go in tomorrow and edit it proper, but until then, enjoy xo. Update: slightly beta'd; continue to ingest at your own peril.

***

"Put these on," Loki instructed and tossed a pair of boxer briefs at Clint who was sitting naked at the end of his bed back at his floor for the first time in nearly two weeks. He'd learned a lot since he'd agreed to let Loki "train him" a month ago. He'd spent more time on his knees than on his feet; he'd started to adjust his eating schedule, sleeping schedule around Loki's wants and whims. The need to please him hadn't diminished like he expected; instead, he wanted more than ever to be good for his dom- his Master.

His slid into the fabric and situated the waistband across his hips, flicking his eyes up to Loki through his lashes and looking for approval. Loki's gaze roved from his face, down his body to Clint's lap. "Perfect." Then, he snapped his fingers and it was an automatic reflex when Clint fell to the floor and crawled to Loki's feet before sitting back on his heels and placing his hands in his lap. The god reached a hand out and stroked Clint's cheek. 

Loki's thumb trailed from the high point of his cheek to the corner of his mouth. "Such a lovely face," he noted and Clint flushed with pride. The god's hand shifted to clench his submissive's chin tight in his grip. "I will enjoy ruining it."

"Please," Clint murmured instantly. 

The dark-haired man grinned, mischief and lust alight in his eyes. "Today, you will focus of attending to my will, whatever that may be." Loki raked his hand through Clint's hair before grabbing a handful and pressing the archer's face to his clothed lap. "You're only objective today is to please me when and how I see fit."

Clint moaned softly, nodding the little bit that he could in Loki's hold. He'd been waiting for this. He wanted to learn what Loki wanted, what he liked, how to please him so that he could do it without being asked. Until then, Loki had spent most of his time introducing Clint to new ideas and techniques and the in's and out's of what it meant to let Loki have him. But now- Clint wanted to learn more about Loki.

Loki released him and stepped around the archer, heading out into Clint's living area. With a snap of his fingers, Clint was following on his hands and knees. When Clint made it out there, Loki was leaning against the kitchen island with his arms crossed, waiting. Clint crawled to Loki's feet and saddled up as close as he could, knees intertwined with his feet. He looked up to the man, questioning, wondering.

"Proceed as normal, dove," Loki urged and Clint nodded, kissed Loki's knee, and rose to his feet. "I'll tell you what I want," the god instructed as he gave Clint's ass a lazy slap on his way by, "and when I want it."

Clint bit down on his smile, trying to keep his mind focused. Loki gave him a task and he would do it. First, breakfast. He wasn't a cook but for Loki, he was learning to get by. The bacon was nearly ready when Clint felt hands on his hips. He looked over his shoulder but Loki only nodded at the skillet so Clint turned back around. 

He tried to stay focused- he did- but Loki's hands were wandering, skimming the waistband of his underwear and tucking underneath the fabric. When one of them flittered over his soft cock, Clint inhales sharply and gripped the handle of the pan tightly in a weak attempt at balance. "Sir," he hissed, pleading for something he didn't quite understand.

"Keep going," Loki warned. "I find it pleasurable to touch you, but I also expect to be fed a hearty meal. Understand?" He did understand. Clint was somehow meant to stay on task while Loki played with him. He steeled himself for the challenge and nodded. Loki hummed against his neck. "Very good, pet."

Those little nicknames always got to him and Loki knew it. He hated them as much as he loved them. They made his blood boil and rush south in tandem, leaving his brain confused and hungry for the god. Loki's current favorite was my dove or some form of it. Clint suspected it was as close to the nickname he had for his own Clint back home as he dared to get considering the archer truly hated when Loki tried that one on him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and lifted the bacon out of the pan with the spatula to set them on the plate he'd prepared. Loki was lazily stroking two fingers over the limp, warm line of him like he was fingering a guitar, brushing in a steady rhythm that made Clint sway backward into his chest. Loki hummed contentedly and kissed up the line of Clint's neck. "Look at you providing for your Master," he teased. Clint felt heat rise across his cheeks and he swore internally.

He never used to blush; he'd never hear the end of it if Natasha ever saw him like this. If any of them ever saw him like this...The archer tried to hide the chill that ran over him at the thought, but Loki was nothing if not observant and bit down lightly on Clint's earlobe.

"Tell me," he ordered, tender but no less forceful. This was something that they had been working on. Clint wouldn't exactly describe himself as an open book, and Loki wanted to know Clint in a way that no one ever had. 

"I was just-" He cut off, unsure how to say what he was feeling without offending the man that he'd come to depend on so heavily. 

Loki offered, "How about this? Tell me what's bothering you and I'll reward you," with a pointed squeeze to the base of Clint's dick. "Trust me, keeping in mind my plans for the rest of our day, you will want this reward."

Clint's breath left in a shudder. He nodded. "I just thought about what would happen if the others saw me right now. I mean- In the cell I was..." Clint winced as he remembered how he'd nearly melted into Loki's lap in front of Steve and Natasha, but then said, "But that's nothing compared to now. I'm- fuck, Loki. I'm yours," he urged and left his head fall back on Loki's shoulder.

The god buried his face in the curve of Clint's neck and groaned, giving the submissive a stroke. "I'm impressed that you've come to terms with who you are so quick," he praised. "You are mine and I would never allow my 'it' to be ashamed of being owned. If your team were to visit, I would proudly display you as my own."

Loki brought his hand out of Clint's underwear and up to the archer's face. Clint responded as he'd been taught, licking Loki's palm and fingers as Loki murmured, "I'd like three eggs, dove." Clint nodded and steeled himself against what he knew was coming as he grabbed the cartoon on the counter beside him. 

Loki's hand slipped back inside Clint's waistband, and even though he'd prepared for it, Clint still cracked the egg a little too forcefully when a warm, wet hand wrapped around him again. "Thank you, sir," he huffed, trying to remember all that Loki had instilled in him so far. Loki stroked him with an infuriating sluggishness that kept Clint stuck somewhere between pent up and needy.   

He didn't realize he'd stopped stirring the eggs until Loki's hand paused and he bit harshly on Clint's neck. "If my eggs are scorched, your ass will follow suit."

Clint whimpered and took up his stirring with vigor. "I'm sorry, sir." He dumped the eggs on the plate with the bacon, thankful when his hands were free to clench onto the edge of the counter. His legs were beginning to shake with desire and he didn't know how long he'd be able to hold himself up without the support. 

"Toast as well," Loki reminded and Clint nodded jerkily before going over to the toaster. The god's hand slipped from around him, making Clint loose an aborted whine as he grabbed the bread from the breadbox. "Don't whine. It's unbecoming of my property."

Clint felt humiliation wash over him and the weight of it lowered his head. "Yes, sir," he breathed, barely audible. 

"Excuse me?" Loki prompted.

He lifted his head again and said more surely, "Yes, sir."

Then Loki was against him again, front pressed tightly to his back. "Much better," he cooed and flipped Clint's around to face him. "Don't burn my toast, Barton," he warned before dropping to his knees and tugging Clint's briefs down as he went. Clint choked on his next inhale, bread nearly falling out of his hand to the floor. 

He didn't have the chance to get his barrings back because then Loki's perfect, velvet mouth was swallowing him down. "Shit, Loki," Clint hissed, stumbling where he stood with the force of his pleasure. 

Loki didn't answer him particularly; instead, he snapped his fingers and pointed to the toaster. Clint nodded but he wasn't sure he could even get the bread into the toaster slots to save his life. Loki hollowed his cheeks and Clint groaned, eyes falling shut as he blindly shoved the bread at the device. Loki slid a slothful hand down to Clint's leg before abruptly pinching the sensitive skin on his inner thigh.

Clint was still always dumbfounded by the amount of pleasure that came with the pain. His hips lurched forward without conscious decision but Clint knew what that pinch meant. If he didn't get his act together and make Loki's fucking toast, he'd be punished. He peeled his eyes open to glance over at the toaster just long enough to slip the bread haphazardly into the slots. 

Loki pressed his tongue into Clint's leaking slit and the archer wildly flung his hand at the lever until it clicked into place and the toaster began to heat up. "Oh, thank God," he gasped as his hand scrabbled at the counter for stability and his head fell back in bliss. "Thank you, Loki. Thank you." Loki only hummed in answer, sending shocks of pleasure up Clint's spine. 

Before he was ready, the toast had popped and Clint's mouth was falling open and he was shooting into Loki's plush mouth. There was just something about coming by Loki's hand. The intensity with which Clint hated Loki was matched by how good it felt to be released at Loki's command- something like hate sex but better. Because this wasn't that Loki, and Clint had accepted that weeks ago. Now, it was more like sweet revenge on his old self and on all the hatred he harbored that he so easily let go now.

Loki rose to his feet with a grace that Clint could only dream of and shoved his tongue between the archer's slack lips, sliding their tongues together and feeding a few drops of Clint's own cum to him. Clint moaned weakly into the kiss, hands coming up to grasp onto Loki but pausing mid-movement. 

When the god pulled away and saw his hands, frozen in midair, he huffed a laugh, something like pride in his languid smile. "You may," he allowed and Clint's hands found skin in an instant. He smoothed both across Loki's bare chest, letting a thumb wander over a nipple or trace the vein in an arm. Clint fell lulled by his own ministrations until his eyes drooped and he was leaning into Loki without meaning to.

"Come now, pet," Loki tisked. "I still haven't eaten."

Clint pulled himself out of his haze, remembering his original task, and nodded. He turned and grabbed the plate of food and a fork, holding them out to his dominant. Loki raised a brow and glanced at the toaster. Clint's eyes went wide for a second before he set the plate down in favor of grabbing the toast and buttering it quickly. When he'd come back with a finished plate, Loki only turned and walked away, snapping his fingering as an afterthought when Clint hesitated to follow.

The incident with the piss and plate wasn't long ago enough to be a distant memory in Clint's head, and whenever he passed by the kitchen island seat where Loki had sat and watched him bury his face in the god's urine, he shivered. Luckily, they walked passed it and to the dining room table. Loki slunk into a chair and Clint set the plate and fork down, folding his hands behind his back dutifully afterward. The god looked up at Clint then flicked his eyes down the floor beside the table.

He dropped like a bag of bricks to his knees, scooting close just to feel the warmth that Loki's body seemed to hold in only a shallow sense. While the dark-haired man ate, Clint just looked. Loki was disturbingly beautiful. Eyes that shone with unearthly depth. Smooth, porcelain skin unmarred by countless battles. Lashes that swept across the air when he blinked. Sharp white teeth that Clint begged to feel the edge of.

"Are you hungry?" Loki asked, seeming to be unaware of Clint's staring. More likely, he was willfully ignoring it. Clint wasn't sure the right answer, so he went with the truth- something Loki told him to always default to.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Come eat your breakfast."

The words didn't come with any physical clue as to instruction and 'breakfast' has meant everything from actual food to cum since they'd started this, so Clint wasn't totally sure where he stood. Before he could really get worked up though, Loki reached under the table and pulled his loose sleep pants down his hips enough to let his mostly soft dick roll out.

Clint sighed in relief. This he knew. This he could do. This he loved.

He crawled under the table to sit between Loki's legs and waited as Loki curled lazy fingers around his base and aimed himself towards Clint's mouth. The archer let his lips part on a sigh and leaned in until Loki's tip tickled the supple point of his tongue. They both let out a gentle sound and Loki fed Clint more of him. 

Just when he'd gotten settled, Loki pulled out and instead pushed a cold piece of scrambled egg between his lips. "Eat," he demanded casually and Clint obeyed. So breakfast would be actual food and cum today. Perfect, Clint thought with a faraway smile. 

This- all of this- felt normal now. It instead felt odd to walk around all day; he felt off-kilter when he hadn't had Loki in his mouth for multiple hours. Which, he'd noticed, was there main activity. Not that Clint was complaining, but Loki had yet to take there training past the point of oral. 

He loved what they had. He was spanked, manhandled, demeaned, but not fucked- not really. He didn't know why Loki hesitated. It was obvious that Clint wanted to, he'd begged for it at some point, he was sure. There had to be a plan or a reason- something- because Clint was ready and he might just lose his mind before Loki decided he'd earned it.

***

Wow just living in their made-up world is so soothing to me. I think we'll ratchet things up next week. I can't decide how though. Let me know what y'all think or would like to see. Besides Loki fucking the living daylights out of Clint because same honey, I got you. It'll happen.

Mwah! Xoxo, Jess