Fic: most motherfuckers have a cold-ass stare
Title: most motherfuckers have a cold-ass stare
Summary: Barton's so very useful, especially since he's already been used.
Fandom: Avengers
Word Count: 1074
Rating/Contents: NC-17, noncon, mind control, implied (past) D/s, face slapping
Pairing: Loki/Clint, Clint/Coulson
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: For
kink_bingo (hypnosis/mind control)! My 500th AO3 story! I waffled on this title, like, a LOT, but then I decided that I DO WHAT I WANT. So there is swears.
When Loki comes in, Barton is cleaning his bow, a contraption that seems ridiculous to Loki; humans have no concept of beauty, of the strength in simplicity. Still, he must admit that he seems to be effective with the thing, a capacity that Loki is watching carefully, just in case Barton should somehow slip out of his control.
"Leave," Loki tells the other soldiers in the room, and they quickly obey. "Close the door," he tells Barton, taking a seat on the padded bench against the wall, and Barton sets down his bow, walking over and punching digits into the keypad until the door slides shut. "Come and sit beside me, Barton," Loki says idly. "It must be hard for you, to have your will taken away from you like this." He's actually interested in the answer; it pleases him to know when and how he's making his chief lieutenant suffer.
Barton shrugs, sitting down next to him. "It's not that different from what I get at home."
"I have to confess, that is not what I expected to hear," Loki says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Who controlled you, Barton?"
"Coulson," he says, no hesitation, and that's even more interesting; Loki's heard talk of him, but Barton's never spoken of him like this. "I'm a gun and he pulls my trigger. That's the way it's always been."
"He doesn't draw your bowstring?" Loki suggests.
Barton looks at him blankly. "Coulson doesn't know how to use a bow."
Sometimes controlling another's mind is tedious. "Never mind. Tell me more."
"He's my handler," Barton says. "When we're in the field, what he says goes. I've disobeyed him a couple of times, but it only worked out once." Loki doesn't need to hear that story; Barton's talked about the woman at length, longer than Loki honestly needed to hear.
"But that's not all, is it?" Loki presses. He can sense a weakness here, something to use against Barton, something to use against Coulson, when the time comes.
"No," Barton says, and Loki knows he's got something when he doesn't offer any more information.
"Is he your lover?" Loki asks.
He can see how Barton fights the question. "Yes."
"And he controls you there, too," Loki says, piecing it together; humans and their strange complications of simple things, he's forever dealing with it. "Does he force you?"
"No," Barton says quickly. "I chose him. I do what he wants."
"Ahh, but I chose you," Loki tells him; he's thinking now about further ways to corrupt Barton, taint his memories and his passions as much as he's tainted his mind. "Isn't that so much sweeter?"
"Whatever you say, boss," Barton replies, a hint of a wry smile on his face.
Loki could strike him for that, teach him his place, but these glimpses of his former self are so very interesting, remind Loki of how much strength and will he controls. "Tell me what you do for him," Loki orders. "Does he make you touch him?"
"He doesn't make me do anything I don't want," Barton says stubbornly.
Loki does hit him this time, slapping him sharply. "You'll regret not answering my questions," he warns.
"Yes," Barton says, swallowing. "I- yeah. He does."
"Better," Loki says. He moves his clothing out of the way, taking Barton's hand and settling it over his cock. "Show me."
Barton hesitates for a moment, but when Loki raises his arm, Barton begins to stroke him, his hand sliding slowly over the fabric of Loki's trousers. This is a risk, Loki knows, but a calculated one; the chance of Barton breaking the staff's hold over him is essentially nil, and what is power if one can't abuse it as one sees fit?
His cock is getting harder, as much from the thought of what he's doing to Barton as from Barton's hand. "Do you suck him?" Loki asks. "Do you get on your knees and let him put his filthy cock into your mouth?"
"Yeah," Barton replies.
"You like it, don't you?" Loki taunts, nothing about it a question, and Barton looks away from him. "You wish you could have it right now. I know you, Barton, much better than he does." Loki reaches into his clothing, undoing his laces and getting his cock free. "On your knees. I'll give you what you want."
Barton slides to his knees, and Loki considers keeping him like this all the time, might do it if Barton weren't so useful to him in other ways. It's exactly as he should be, prostrate and receptive, the way all humans should. The fact that he's been coerced means nothing to Loki; he will do whatever is necessary to these animals to make them behave.
Barton doesn't even need to be told to open his mouth; he wasn't lying about being controlled, not that he could lie to Loki if he wanted. "Good," Loki tells him. "Suck me," he orders, and Barton takes Loki's cock into his mouth. Despite his obedience, he's clearly trying to get through with his task as quickly as possible, sucking hard and moving his head. "Not so fast," Loki says, running his fingers through Barton's hair, grabbing onto it and slowing Barton's movements. "Wouldn't want to rush something we both enjoy so."
Barton's talented at this, and Loki savors it, his warm, wet mouth on his cock. It's been too long, far too long, but that won't be the case anymore, not now that he has Barton. All the work has been done for him; all he needs to do is come in and reap the benefits, and he is in no way above that.
Loki gasps as he releases into Barton's mouth, holding his head still so that he has no choice but to swallow. Barton just doesn't know how honored he should be, favored like this by a god, given something precious, allowed to see Loki at his most vulnerable.
"You were just his slut, but you're my warrior," Loki tells him, wiping a bit of his come away from the corner of Barton's mouth with his thumb and sliding it in between Barton's lips. "You'll see in time. This is what you were born for."
"Sure, boss," Barton replies, his voice gratifyingly hoarse.
Loki stands, setting his garments to rights. "Get back to work," he commands, and Barton nods, getting on his feet and going back to his weapon.
Loki leaves.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/425080.html.
comments over there.
Summary: Barton's so very useful, especially since he's already been used.
Fandom: Avengers
Word Count: 1074
Rating/Contents: NC-17, noncon, mind control, implied (past) D/s, face slapping
Pairing: Loki/Clint, Clint/Coulson
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: For
kink_bingo (hypnosis/mind control)! My 500th AO3 story! I waffled on this title, like, a LOT, but then I decided that I DO WHAT I WANT. So there is swears.
When Loki comes in, Barton is cleaning his bow, a contraption that seems ridiculous to Loki; humans have no concept of beauty, of the strength in simplicity. Still, he must admit that he seems to be effective with the thing, a capacity that Loki is watching carefully, just in case Barton should somehow slip out of his control.
"Leave," Loki tells the other soldiers in the room, and they quickly obey. "Close the door," he tells Barton, taking a seat on the padded bench against the wall, and Barton sets down his bow, walking over and punching digits into the keypad until the door slides shut. "Come and sit beside me, Barton," Loki says idly. "It must be hard for you, to have your will taken away from you like this." He's actually interested in the answer; it pleases him to know when and how he's making his chief lieutenant suffer.
Barton shrugs, sitting down next to him. "It's not that different from what I get at home."
"I have to confess, that is not what I expected to hear," Loki says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Who controlled you, Barton?"
"Coulson," he says, no hesitation, and that's even more interesting; Loki's heard talk of him, but Barton's never spoken of him like this. "I'm a gun and he pulls my trigger. That's the way it's always been."
"He doesn't draw your bowstring?" Loki suggests.
Barton looks at him blankly. "Coulson doesn't know how to use a bow."
Sometimes controlling another's mind is tedious. "Never mind. Tell me more."
"He's my handler," Barton says. "When we're in the field, what he says goes. I've disobeyed him a couple of times, but it only worked out once." Loki doesn't need to hear that story; Barton's talked about the woman at length, longer than Loki honestly needed to hear.
"But that's not all, is it?" Loki presses. He can sense a weakness here, something to use against Barton, something to use against Coulson, when the time comes.
"No," Barton says, and Loki knows he's got something when he doesn't offer any more information.
"Is he your lover?" Loki asks.
He can see how Barton fights the question. "Yes."
"And he controls you there, too," Loki says, piecing it together; humans and their strange complications of simple things, he's forever dealing with it. "Does he force you?"
"No," Barton says quickly. "I chose him. I do what he wants."
"Ahh, but I chose you," Loki tells him; he's thinking now about further ways to corrupt Barton, taint his memories and his passions as much as he's tainted his mind. "Isn't that so much sweeter?"
"Whatever you say, boss," Barton replies, a hint of a wry smile on his face.
Loki could strike him for that, teach him his place, but these glimpses of his former self are so very interesting, remind Loki of how much strength and will he controls. "Tell me what you do for him," Loki orders. "Does he make you touch him?"
"He doesn't make me do anything I don't want," Barton says stubbornly.
Loki does hit him this time, slapping him sharply. "You'll regret not answering my questions," he warns.
"Yes," Barton says, swallowing. "I- yeah. He does."
"Better," Loki says. He moves his clothing out of the way, taking Barton's hand and settling it over his cock. "Show me."
Barton hesitates for a moment, but when Loki raises his arm, Barton begins to stroke him, his hand sliding slowly over the fabric of Loki's trousers. This is a risk, Loki knows, but a calculated one; the chance of Barton breaking the staff's hold over him is essentially nil, and what is power if one can't abuse it as one sees fit?
His cock is getting harder, as much from the thought of what he's doing to Barton as from Barton's hand. "Do you suck him?" Loki asks. "Do you get on your knees and let him put his filthy cock into your mouth?"
"Yeah," Barton replies.
"You like it, don't you?" Loki taunts, nothing about it a question, and Barton looks away from him. "You wish you could have it right now. I know you, Barton, much better than he does." Loki reaches into his clothing, undoing his laces and getting his cock free. "On your knees. I'll give you what you want."
Barton slides to his knees, and Loki considers keeping him like this all the time, might do it if Barton weren't so useful to him in other ways. It's exactly as he should be, prostrate and receptive, the way all humans should. The fact that he's been coerced means nothing to Loki; he will do whatever is necessary to these animals to make them behave.
Barton doesn't even need to be told to open his mouth; he wasn't lying about being controlled, not that he could lie to Loki if he wanted. "Good," Loki tells him. "Suck me," he orders, and Barton takes Loki's cock into his mouth. Despite his obedience, he's clearly trying to get through with his task as quickly as possible, sucking hard and moving his head. "Not so fast," Loki says, running his fingers through Barton's hair, grabbing onto it and slowing Barton's movements. "Wouldn't want to rush something we both enjoy so."
Barton's talented at this, and Loki savors it, his warm, wet mouth on his cock. It's been too long, far too long, but that won't be the case anymore, not now that he has Barton. All the work has been done for him; all he needs to do is come in and reap the benefits, and he is in no way above that.
Loki gasps as he releases into Barton's mouth, holding his head still so that he has no choice but to swallow. Barton just doesn't know how honored he should be, favored like this by a god, given something precious, allowed to see Loki at his most vulnerable.
"You were just his slut, but you're my warrior," Loki tells him, wiping a bit of his come away from the corner of Barton's mouth with his thumb and sliding it in between Barton's lips. "You'll see in time. This is what you were born for."
"Sure, boss," Barton replies, his voice gratifyingly hoarse.
Loki stands, setting his garments to rights. "Get back to work," he commands, and Barton nods, getting on his feet and going back to his weapon.
Loki leaves.
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/425080.html.
comments over there.