Submission. Return.
Title: Submission. Return.
Author: janesgravity
Characters/Pairing: Loki/Clint
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1807
Disclaimer: the characters herein belong to Marvel. Fan-fiction for fun only. :-)
Warnings: Alpha/omega 'verse, so inherent dub/non-con. Implied mpreg.
Summary: Very loosely based on this avengerkink prompt: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/5758.html?thread=6561662&#t6561662
Note: VERY late birthday present for my girl, i_bleed_magenta Beta'd by aislinn Fill for my kink_bingo square, "obedience"
It’s the smell that draws him. He’s distracted by it, standing outside the warehouse he’s chosen for his base here on Earth.
The nostrils of the man he’s talking to - a former SHIELD lackey - flare and Loki knows he’s not the only one who can smell the rich, musky and earthy aroma of an Omega going into heat.
“Wait here,” he says to the man, whose name he hasn’t bothered to learn.
Loki makes his way into the warehouse, a large, dim space that’s mostly empty. There are a few abandoned offices at the back, and an ancient breakroom. HIs nose tells him that’s where the scent is coming from. That, and there’s an unusual cluster of people outside one door …
He scatters them with a word and a glare - half aware of his mouth watering at the scent coming from the room. Whoever it is, it must be their first Heat, the scent is so rich, and it’s nearly enough to overpower his own will over these idiots.
He’s gratified when he feels the fear coming off them as they scatter away. An Omega’s first Heat is a powerful thing, but he is of Asgard - a god to these fools - and there is no power in the universe stronger than that.
Except, perhaps, shock. Loki stands at the door of the room, staring at the man writhing on the ancient, battered couch pushed back against the far wall. It’s … Barton.
Barton is going through his first Heat. Barton, who is an experienced, battle-scarred SHIELD agent, is going through what he should have gone through when he reached his majority as a human.
Loki strides across the room, and acting without thinking, touches Barton with his staff, lifting the mind-control. Barton glares up at him, his blue eyes blazing out as he rolls himself off the couch, before doubling over.
“Ah, fuck. Ah, fuck you. Ah …”
“Barton,” Loki says, striving for calm. Why hadn’t he known about this? He knows everything about this man - or he should …
Barton turns and glares at him. “What? What do you want now you fucker? Haven’t you done enough - ah, jesus.”
Barton’s intentions are clear, even as his body betrays him, his eyes focusing on the open door. The scent of his Heat seems to fill the whole room, and Loki hastily shuts the door with a thought, sealing them both inside.
“Fuck.” Barton mutters against the concrete floor, before slumping where he is, one arm curled around his stomach. Loki would almost think the agent to be ill, except for the impressive erection he can see, a thick outline through Barton’s trousers.
Loki sits down by Barton, careful not to sit too close, even though he expects the gesture is futile - his blood is already singing with minemineminematematematesubmitsubmitsubmit.
“So, agent Barton, your first Heat. That’s … very late.”
Barton rolls to a sitting position, his arm still curled around his abdomen. He looks at the door again, sees it shut, and refocuses his laser gaze on Loki. Barton’s skin is sheened all over with sweat and Loki can feel the Heat rolling off him in waves. He wants to roll Barton over and rut into him until his knot makes it impossible for either of them to move. He wants to -
“Suppressants,” Barton says suddenly into the thick silence. “I’ve been taking Heat suppressants for years. You - you caught me before I’d taken them. So - “
“So now here we are,” Loki says softly. He’s so very hard, and it feels like his knot is already aching for release - to be released inside Barton, knotting him and tying him to Loki permanently …
Loki frowns and shakes off that thought process. He has a task to accomplish here and he really can’t be distracted by … Barton groans again.
“Son of a bitch, ah fuck it hurts …”
He tips his head back against the ancient sofa, screwing his eyes tight shut.
“So - you just gonna sit there and watch me cook, or are you gonna help me out here?”
Barton’s panting now, one arm curled around himself and the other opening and closing over his thigh, his fingers digging in.
Loki closes his eyes and inhales deeply - tasting the thick heaviness of Barton’s Heat on his tongue.
“It’s either you, you bastard, or I’m going to fucking cook, literally. I can’t survive this without being … ah, without being … “
“Taken?” Loki suggests, giving in to the impulse to lick his lips, gratified when Barton’s eyes drop to track the movement.
“Yeah, let’s call it that. Taken. Fucking prick. I know you’re not going to let any of the other Alphas out there do it, so if I ask you nicely, you fucking psychopath will you please bend me over this couch and fuck me until I forget why this is a bad idea?”
Loki reaches out a hand, touching Barton’s - Clint’s face. His skin is on fire, and he turns his head into Loki’s touch, moaning.
“Please” Clint says, quietly.
“You know that for this to work properly … you … have to submit. To me. If you don’t... I can’t - my knot won’t … come out.”
Clint drops his head back on the couch and swears at the ceiling for a solid minute, some words that Loki is sure he’s never heard before.
“Clint …”
“I know, okay, I know. I know what this means, that I’ll probably - ah fuck.”
He stands up suddenly, stripping off his shirt, bending over to drag off his boots, pulling down his pants and kicking them off.
The smell of his Heat is even stronger now, and Loki groans, pressing a hand against his own erection, straining hard against his pants. Clint glares at him again but turns and drops to his knees on the floor, bracing his hands on the cushions of the couch.
Loki divests himself of his clothing swiftly, vaguely aware of what’s waiting for him on the other side of the door - of all of his careful, careful plans hanging in the balance. Then he slips the tip of a finger into Clint’s hole - it’s slick and leaking already as Clint’s Heat takes a more powerful hold. Loki watches as Clint drops his head in an almost unconscious gesture of submission, and that’s all the sign Loki needs.
He positions himself behind Clint and lines up his now throbbing cock. Clint is leaking now, a thick stream of Heat-heavy fluid and Loki just … pushes in. It’s wet and slick, but still tight and, ah, just - he reaches out and wraps the fingers of one hand around the back of Clint’s neck, holding him in place as he fucks him through the first stage of his Heat.
Clint is moaning underneath him, still swearing, his hands clutching at the fabric of the couch, nearly tearing it in his desperation. Loki can feel the pressure of his knot, can feel that it wants to be released, wants to tie Clint to him like this.
There’s still tension in Clint’s shoulders, though, and his neck is curving upward as he pushes back, demanding that Loki gives him what he wants.
Loki leans over and bites hard on Clint’s shoulder, ruthless and sharp, reminding him of what’s at stake if he fails to give himself over completely to Loki’s attentions.
“Submit,” he says quietly right in Clint’s ear, even as he increases his pace, fucking into him ruthlessly and hard.
“Submit,” he says again, just as quiet, shifting his hands so he can dig his fingers into Clint’s hips, driving into him over and over again, feeling the frustrated edge of his own denied release, and the ache of his knot, still ravelled tight.
Clint groans again and Loki can hear his teeth grind as he tries to keep the words back, but his Heat is more powerful even than Loki’s previous mind control, and he grits the words out like he’s chewing on gravel:
“I - I submit … oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, fuck.”
Loki silently concurs as his knot releases, tying into Clint and he’s coming so very hard, he’s never come this hard. He digs his fingers into Clint’s hips so hard that bruises start to form. He rests his forehead against the back of Clint’s neck for a moment, vaguely aware of Clint shifting and groaning underneath him.
“I can’t - you fucker, I can’t come until you say I can with your submit bullshit and it fucking hurts …”
Loki sighs against Clint’s neck, before taking his cock in hand, rubbing his thumb over the tip before whispering in Clint’s ear, “Come, come for me …” It’s all he has time to say before Clint is coming all over Loki’s hand and his own stomach and the ratty couch.
Loki feels his knot pulse inside of Clint, trying to push even further inside him and he groans softly as he gently maneuvers them both down to the floor. He lies carefully behind Clint, both on their sides, one hand already protective over Clint’s stomach.
“How long will your Heat last,” he asks eventually when the silence seems to lie heavy on the room. Clint stares at the wall opposite, but he tentatively places his hand over Loki’s and sighs. “Three days,” he says. “Because it’s my first Heat in years, and it’s so... strong, I’m probably …” Loki digs his fingertips into Clint’s flat stomach and presses a kiss against the soft skin under Clint’s ear.
“I’m fucked, basically,” Clint says, his voice weary and hoarse. “Probably knocked up already - or I will be by the time my Heat cycle finishes - and you know, I’m kind of in the enemy camp now, so fuck knows what’s going to happen … ah … ah fuck”
Loki feels it, he’s ready for it this time, the thick wave of Clint’s Heat peaking again. He’s still inside him, can feel the fluids of the heat building around his now-thickening cock and his knot, still tied deep inside Clint.
Clint tilts his head back, silently baring his neck, even as he starts to pull on his own hardening cock, guttural moans and nonsense words spilling from his mouth.
Loki closes his eyes and lets the rut take him as Clint’s Heat fully overwhelm his senses and everything else that seemed so very important a few hours ago fades away into nothing but the roar of white noise and the always-triumphant claiming by an Alpha of his Omega.
The rest of the world will wait.
Author: janesgravity
Characters/Pairing: Loki/Clint
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1807
Disclaimer: the characters herein belong to Marvel. Fan-fiction for fun only. :-)
Warnings: Alpha/omega 'verse, so inherent dub/non-con. Implied mpreg.
Summary: Very loosely based on this avengerkink prompt: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/5758.html?thread=6561662&#t6561662
Note: VERY late birthday present for my girl, i_bleed_magenta Beta'd by aislinn Fill for my kink_bingo square, "obedience"
It’s the smell that draws him. He’s distracted by it, standing outside the warehouse he’s chosen for his base here on Earth.
The nostrils of the man he’s talking to - a former SHIELD lackey - flare and Loki knows he’s not the only one who can smell the rich, musky and earthy aroma of an Omega going into heat.
“Wait here,” he says to the man, whose name he hasn’t bothered to learn.
Loki makes his way into the warehouse, a large, dim space that’s mostly empty. There are a few abandoned offices at the back, and an ancient breakroom. HIs nose tells him that’s where the scent is coming from. That, and there’s an unusual cluster of people outside one door …
He scatters them with a word and a glare - half aware of his mouth watering at the scent coming from the room. Whoever it is, it must be their first Heat, the scent is so rich, and it’s nearly enough to overpower his own will over these idiots.
He’s gratified when he feels the fear coming off them as they scatter away. An Omega’s first Heat is a powerful thing, but he is of Asgard - a god to these fools - and there is no power in the universe stronger than that.
Except, perhaps, shock. Loki stands at the door of the room, staring at the man writhing on the ancient, battered couch pushed back against the far wall. It’s … Barton.
Barton is going through his first Heat. Barton, who is an experienced, battle-scarred SHIELD agent, is going through what he should have gone through when he reached his majority as a human.
Loki strides across the room, and acting without thinking, touches Barton with his staff, lifting the mind-control. Barton glares up at him, his blue eyes blazing out as he rolls himself off the couch, before doubling over.
“Ah, fuck. Ah, fuck you. Ah …”
“Barton,” Loki says, striving for calm. Why hadn’t he known about this? He knows everything about this man - or he should …
Barton turns and glares at him. “What? What do you want now you fucker? Haven’t you done enough - ah, jesus.”
Barton’s intentions are clear, even as his body betrays him, his eyes focusing on the open door. The scent of his Heat seems to fill the whole room, and Loki hastily shuts the door with a thought, sealing them both inside.
“Fuck.” Barton mutters against the concrete floor, before slumping where he is, one arm curled around his stomach. Loki would almost think the agent to be ill, except for the impressive erection he can see, a thick outline through Barton’s trousers.
Loki sits down by Barton, careful not to sit too close, even though he expects the gesture is futile - his blood is already singing with minemineminematematematesubmitsubmitsubmit.
“So, agent Barton, your first Heat. That’s … very late.”
Barton rolls to a sitting position, his arm still curled around his abdomen. He looks at the door again, sees it shut, and refocuses his laser gaze on Loki. Barton’s skin is sheened all over with sweat and Loki can feel the Heat rolling off him in waves. He wants to roll Barton over and rut into him until his knot makes it impossible for either of them to move. He wants to -
“Suppressants,” Barton says suddenly into the thick silence. “I’ve been taking Heat suppressants for years. You - you caught me before I’d taken them. So - “
“So now here we are,” Loki says softly. He’s so very hard, and it feels like his knot is already aching for release - to be released inside Barton, knotting him and tying him to Loki permanently …
Loki frowns and shakes off that thought process. He has a task to accomplish here and he really can’t be distracted by … Barton groans again.
“Son of a bitch, ah fuck it hurts …”
He tips his head back against the ancient sofa, screwing his eyes tight shut.
“So - you just gonna sit there and watch me cook, or are you gonna help me out here?”
Barton’s panting now, one arm curled around himself and the other opening and closing over his thigh, his fingers digging in.
Loki closes his eyes and inhales deeply - tasting the thick heaviness of Barton’s Heat on his tongue.
“It’s either you, you bastard, or I’m going to fucking cook, literally. I can’t survive this without being … ah, without being … “
“Taken?” Loki suggests, giving in to the impulse to lick his lips, gratified when Barton’s eyes drop to track the movement.
“Yeah, let’s call it that. Taken. Fucking prick. I know you’re not going to let any of the other Alphas out there do it, so if I ask you nicely, you fucking psychopath will you please bend me over this couch and fuck me until I forget why this is a bad idea?”
Loki reaches out a hand, touching Barton’s - Clint’s face. His skin is on fire, and he turns his head into Loki’s touch, moaning.
“Please” Clint says, quietly.
“You know that for this to work properly … you … have to submit. To me. If you don’t... I can’t - my knot won’t … come out.”
Clint drops his head back on the couch and swears at the ceiling for a solid minute, some words that Loki is sure he’s never heard before.
“Clint …”
“I know, okay, I know. I know what this means, that I’ll probably - ah fuck.”
He stands up suddenly, stripping off his shirt, bending over to drag off his boots, pulling down his pants and kicking them off.
The smell of his Heat is even stronger now, and Loki groans, pressing a hand against his own erection, straining hard against his pants. Clint glares at him again but turns and drops to his knees on the floor, bracing his hands on the cushions of the couch.
Loki divests himself of his clothing swiftly, vaguely aware of what’s waiting for him on the other side of the door - of all of his careful, careful plans hanging in the balance. Then he slips the tip of a finger into Clint’s hole - it’s slick and leaking already as Clint’s Heat takes a more powerful hold. Loki watches as Clint drops his head in an almost unconscious gesture of submission, and that’s all the sign Loki needs.
He positions himself behind Clint and lines up his now throbbing cock. Clint is leaking now, a thick stream of Heat-heavy fluid and Loki just … pushes in. It’s wet and slick, but still tight and, ah, just - he reaches out and wraps the fingers of one hand around the back of Clint’s neck, holding him in place as he fucks him through the first stage of his Heat.
Clint is moaning underneath him, still swearing, his hands clutching at the fabric of the couch, nearly tearing it in his desperation. Loki can feel the pressure of his knot, can feel that it wants to be released, wants to tie Clint to him like this.
There’s still tension in Clint’s shoulders, though, and his neck is curving upward as he pushes back, demanding that Loki gives him what he wants.
Loki leans over and bites hard on Clint’s shoulder, ruthless and sharp, reminding him of what’s at stake if he fails to give himself over completely to Loki’s attentions.
“Submit,” he says quietly right in Clint’s ear, even as he increases his pace, fucking into him ruthlessly and hard.
“Submit,” he says again, just as quiet, shifting his hands so he can dig his fingers into Clint’s hips, driving into him over and over again, feeling the frustrated edge of his own denied release, and the ache of his knot, still ravelled tight.
Clint groans again and Loki can hear his teeth grind as he tries to keep the words back, but his Heat is more powerful even than Loki’s previous mind control, and he grits the words out like he’s chewing on gravel:
“I - I submit … oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, fuck.”
Loki silently concurs as his knot releases, tying into Clint and he’s coming so very hard, he’s never come this hard. He digs his fingers into Clint’s hips so hard that bruises start to form. He rests his forehead against the back of Clint’s neck for a moment, vaguely aware of Clint shifting and groaning underneath him.
“I can’t - you fucker, I can’t come until you say I can with your submit bullshit and it fucking hurts …”
Loki sighs against Clint’s neck, before taking his cock in hand, rubbing his thumb over the tip before whispering in Clint’s ear, “Come, come for me …” It’s all he has time to say before Clint is coming all over Loki’s hand and his own stomach and the ratty couch.
Loki feels his knot pulse inside of Clint, trying to push even further inside him and he groans softly as he gently maneuvers them both down to the floor. He lies carefully behind Clint, both on their sides, one hand already protective over Clint’s stomach.
“How long will your Heat last,” he asks eventually when the silence seems to lie heavy on the room. Clint stares at the wall opposite, but he tentatively places his hand over Loki’s and sighs. “Three days,” he says. “Because it’s my first Heat in years, and it’s so... strong, I’m probably …” Loki digs his fingertips into Clint’s flat stomach and presses a kiss against the soft skin under Clint’s ear.
“I’m fucked, basically,” Clint says, his voice weary and hoarse. “Probably knocked up already - or I will be by the time my Heat cycle finishes - and you know, I’m kind of in the enemy camp now, so fuck knows what’s going to happen … ah … ah fuck”
Loki feels it, he’s ready for it this time, the thick wave of Clint’s Heat peaking again. He’s still inside him, can feel the fluids of the heat building around his now-thickening cock and his knot, still tied deep inside Clint.
Clint tilts his head back, silently baring his neck, even as he starts to pull on his own hardening cock, guttural moans and nonsense words spilling from his mouth.
Loki closes his eyes and lets the rut take him as Clint’s Heat fully overwhelm his senses and everything else that seemed so very important a few hours ago fades away into nothing but the roar of white noise and the always-triumphant claiming by an Alpha of his Omega.
The rest of the world will wait.