Little Hawk

Sixty days. For sixty days, Clint has been serving diligently under Loki's command, willingly of course. Two months ago the Avengers initiative was completely silenced, in the most grotesque way possible. Each and every member, was abducted and tortured to within an inch of their life, and sentenced to rot in prison for the remainder of their time. Everyone that is, except for Clint. Loki approached him with a choice.

Although he was quite hesitant, the moment he made the decision everything seemed to sink in much deeper. That little screaming voice in his head was reprimanding him for deserting Stark and Banner, and Natasha, clawing at his chest until nothing but a hole was left. He didn't care, hope was gone. New York had been nuked in an attempt to stop the Chitauri, but it didn't help. When Stark tried to redirect the missile through the wormhole, nothing but his immanent death came of it, and the whole decline afterwards.

Loki's armies simply apprehended the rest of the avengers, bringing them to some cruddy, makeshift prison until "further orders" Were given. Each and every member, was tortured to within an inch of their life, and sentenced to rot in prison for the remainder of their time. While the rest of the Avengers were being stripped of everything they had ever worked for, Clint was left in a single cell, waiting. It wasn't long until Loki approached him with a choice: "Join me, or join your companions in the dungeon." And he hardly had to blink before making his painful decision.

Everything seemed the same each day. Wake up, Shower, serve, eat, serve some more, then sleep. It wasn't too terribly bad, as Loki was more inclined to toy with Clint than to make him suffer. He had gotten what he wanted; now he was simply reaping the benefits. Hawkeye had become more a personal assassin for him, picking off those who did not obey, those who dared to rebel. It became a second nature to the archer, plucking an arrow from his target's back. It didn't matter to him that these were once people, people who were fighting for a cause, like he had so long ago. He was a husk of his former self, "The King's Lap Dog." Some would snicker to themselves as he passed. It didn't matter, his companions were dead, Shield had completely evaporated, there was no reason he should be fighting Loki, this was just how it was. Did he feel resentment? No. He was simply too "Done" With everything to resent Loki. He was given a choice, after all. An opportunity to show himself, to make something of himself in this broken world. In all honesty he could thank him, but he figured that'd be going too far.

As Clint awoke one morning, he observed a small, handwritten note that had been placed on his dresser. "I implore you to sleep in a bit longer today, you'll need your energy." Was all it read. Just a bit confused, Clint grumbled to himself and glanced at the clock. 7:01 AM. "Well, bosses orders." He simply shrugged it off, and collapsed back onto his bed. 2-3 hours later, he was roused urgently by a palace slave.

"Hey Catface, outta bed! You've got a shit ton of work to do today!" He quickly tossed clothing onto his face, and returned to work. Clint yawned and stumbled out of bed. Well, this was different. Sleeping in was something he never did, he liked to be up bright and early, else he'd be completely out of it. He groggily threw on his clothing, picked up his bow, and strode down the hall. If making him sleep in was one of Loki's many tricks to slow him down, it certainly was working. As he entered the throne room, he immediately kneeled down to one knee, and looked Loki directly in the eye. That was another strange thing, the eye contact. He certainly hadn't expected to have to make eye contact with Loki, but nevertheless, it kept him fascinated. In some strange, sick way, he enjoyed this work. Never having to worry about being too formal or too submissive. He was treated as a recruit, not a slave. He couldn't help but remember the first time Loki ever approached him, whispering quietly "You have heart" Then pulling him under his command. Thinking back on it now, he found it quite flattering.

As he was drifting into his thoughts, Loki reigned him back in by clearing this throat, lightly. Clint realized he had been staring right through his orders, going through one ear, and out the other. Instead of being insulted, Loki was actually quite amused, and repeated himself once again. "Now that you're entirely with me this time, I am pleased to find that you received my message this morning." He paused, wetting his lips before continuing. "Very well, today, you'll be handling a few different jobs. They're all quite insubordinate, so it shouldn't take you too long." He grinned, observing the obvious confusion on his face. Oh how it pleased him to see his little hawk so baffled, to see the absurd emotion in his pretty blue eyes.

"It will be done, sir. But what was the purpose of sleeping in, if these orders are so significant?" He dared to ask, not once flinching away from the direct eye contact. It was strange how confident he was, not at all afraid of what Loki could possibly do to him.

"Ah, in due time, Barton. Now, report back here immediately when you are finished." He motioned for Clint to stand.

"..Understood." He sighed. Still quite baffled, he bowed to Loki, and received a small letter. "Huh." He chuckled, reading the contents of the letter on his way out of the room. "Well, bosses orders."

Part 2

After a tiring day of running stupid wild goose chases, Clint returned to the palace, an hour earlier than he usually would. It just didn't make any sense. He figured Loki was probably getting bored, and felt he needed to take it out on him. As he approached the throne room, a slave, the one from earlier, barred the entrance.

"You're wanted in the Green Room, Clint. Master's orders." Brutus stated, pointing in the direction of the room.

"Green room..?" He murmured to himself, quite puzzled.

"Yes, the green room! Now don't Dilly-dally! You know the master won't appreciate that." He growled, pushing Clint roughly in that direction.

"Alright, alright! I can walk there myself! Down boy." He joked, and approached the door. He rapped the door lightly, and after a few moments heard the door unlock.

"Enter." Loki announced after a few moments. Clint obeyed immediately, and walked into the room. It appeared empty, save for a dusty fireplace, ratty bookshelf and adequate couch. Before he could make anything of the situation, he heard the door slam shut, and the lock click.

"Uhhh, my lord..?" Clint asked cautiously. He whipped around to see Loki, with a cocky grin on his face.

"Do you now why you're here, Barton?" He cooed, taking a step closer to him.

"Not a clue, sir." He bowed his head.

"Can you guess?" Loki chuckled, tilting his chin up a bit to meet his eyes.

"Did I..screw up?" Hawkeye bit his lip, finding it difficult for once, to look into his delicate blue eyes. There was something about his stare the left him feeling dizzy, at the best of times.

"Not at all, in fact, you did quite the opposite." He breathed deeply, fancying the utter confusion on Clint's face. "Do you miss your companions, Barton?"

"What?" He stuttered, caught completely off guard. This was definitely new. He took a few moments to calm himself, before replying, "No, I think nothing of them." Something inside was screaming at him, clawing at him just like the time he accepted Loki's offer, but he simply suppressed it.

"So you don't mind the fact, that every last one of them is being tortured to death, if not already dead at this moment?" Loki sneered.

"I-.. No. They don't mean a thing to me anymore." He uttered after what seemed like hours. Very slowly, that tiny voice in his head was dying out, desperately trying to drag him down with it.

"And what of Natasha..?" Loki cocked an eyebrow, just inches away from Clint's face. Finally, Clint had caught on, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

"She's nothing but a nuisance." He breathed, weighing the odds.

"My, my Barton. How you've changed." Loki pressed forward, causing Clint to back up against the door with a thud. "I can't say I'm disappointed."
He carded a hand through Clint's hair, and then clenched it into a fist, ever so lightly tugging.

"Changed.. sir?" He bit his lip, feeling small little sears of pain pricking at his scalp. He couldn't deny the flutters in his stomach as Loki pressed flush up against him.

"You've become.. Comfortable, almost as if you don't mind my rule." He grinned, his breath ghosting along Clint's ear, feeling him relax in his grip ever so slightly.

"Well, I don't really have anything to fear, anymore." He stuttered, feeling Loki's knee press lightly against his groin. He did everything to hold in the soft moan that wanted so desperately to spill out of his throat.

"Really? Well, I'm not sure what to say." He joked, lightly nibbling on his ear. "Tell me, Clint. Since you're so, fearless, is there anything in the world, you want?"

"Nn-" he inhaled sharply, feeling Loki push his knee even further. "Sir I-" He gasped, trying not to look him in the eye. His heart was practically beating out of his chest, feeling the adrenaline course through his veins.

"Tell me Barton, is this want you want..?" He gently licked his neck, trailing it from his ear to his jawbone, lightly sucking on a particularly sensitive area. "Do you want this..?"

"HHnn- yes.. sir." He barely choked out, before Loki's lips were crushing against his, his tongue pointedly fighting for control over his mouth. He could feel his cold, pale hands caressing his body, exploring every scar and mark on his arms. He released a shuttered gasp and squeezed his eyes shut, his evident arousal making his pants painfully tight. "Tell me, my little hawk. Tell me what you really want." He pulled off Clint's shirt hastily, and ran his fingertips gently down his spine.

"f-fuck.." He coughed out, gasping for breath as Loki dug the heel of his hand into his crotch. Loki grinned, grabbing Clint by the shoulders and reeled him around, pushing him ever so lightly onto the couch. He climbed on top of him hooking Clint by his belt and pulling him underneath him with unseen strength, grinning at his slight moment of bafflement. Before he had time to say anything, he clutched the archer's pants tightly, and phased both of them out of their clothing, then began tracing his tongue down his collarbone to his chest, leaving little nips here and there. He could feel his entire body tremor whenever he touched a certain spot, and couldn't help but rake his nails along his thighs, grinning at the collective wince.

"Such colorful language." Loki grins, gripping his member tightly and giving it a few harsh strokes. He felt delighted every time Clint wiggled or moaned under his touch, he had all the power in the world, but it meant nothing if he couldn't have him. He pressed his erection against Clint's stomach, enticing him. With a snap of his fingers, he had a small vile in his hands, and was waving it back and forth nonchalantly in front of Clint's face. "I hope you're ready." He chuckled lightly, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. Clint's Adam's apple bobbed nervously, noticing his death grip on the couch.

"Uh, ready as I'll ever be.. Sir." He bared his neck to Loki, arching his back in a submissive manner. He couldn't help but let out a deep, throaty moan as Loki pressed the cool liquid to his hole, slowly pressing one finger inside of him. After waiting an ample amount of time, he inserted a second finger. Clint let out a raspy moan, biting down on his lip. He squeezed Loki's hips, lightly digging his nails into his flesh. After allowing him some time to get used to the sensation- but not much- He began to make a slow scissoring motion, busying his own mouth with Clint's.

"Nnn-" He grunted, shifting his position to allow better access. He would be lying if he said that this didn't hurt, but he couldn't deny the sparks it sent down his spine with each second. He panted lightly, trying to calm himself.

"Relax yourself." He whispered, leaning closely into his ear, his breath tickling the side of his cheek. Loki propped himself up properly and retracted his fingers, only to align himself up with his hole, and press against it slightly. Clint automatically spread his legs a bit wider, trying to find a comfortable position on the couch.

"Right." Clint breathed, preparing himself. With one, solid thrust, Loki entered him, inching himself all the way inside. Both men were panting heavily, soft moans filling the air. Clint was harshly digging his fingers into his back, trying to brace himself more. Loki pressed his forehead against his, still collecting himself. " A-alright?" He heaved, pressing kisses against his neck and jaw line.

"Yeah.." He gulped, feeling a tender hand wrap itself around his member. Shit. He thought. He let out a sputtering moan as Loki pulled himself out about halfway, before slamming back inside of him. He felt Clint's entire body shudder with delight, and he himself could barely contain himself. He began to thrust in and out again, beginning with a slow, irregular pace. When he figured he wasn't going to destroy his perfect little hawk, he upped the pace a bit, trying to find the even rhythm. "F-fuck." Clint cursed, wrapping his legs tightly around Loki's waist. As if hearing his needs, Loki repositioned himself to brush against his prostate, whilst leaving purpley bruises all along his neck. "You're mine." He whispered heavily against his collar bone, taking in his unique scent. He could feel himself heightening, and began to pump Clint's cock viciously, until he felt a warm liquid fill his hand and splatter against both of their chests. Just as he was going to acknowledge Clint's delicious whimpers, he felt himself hit his peak, and let out an ungodly moan as he filled the archer with his seed.

"Good god." Clint huffed, feeling Loki's sharp teeth break through the skin on his neck. Was he..? He was. Loki allowed himself a few more thrusts, before slipping out of Clint completely, and collapsing on the couch next to him.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment..?" He smirked, and grabbed a pillow off the couch, using it to wipe the cum off both their chests. "My my, Barton. You have not disappointed me." He pulled him roughly into his arms, humming.

".. right." He huffed, trying to catch his breath. Clint pressed his head against Loki's collarbone, obviously exhausted.

"You may take a day tomorrow, if you must." He grinned, looking Clint directly in the eye.

"hmmm.." Clint chuckled. "Now why on Earth would I do that..?"