#lokiclint

[saalk-blog]

LOKIxHAWKEYE ENJOY xoxo

[mint729]

[esmidsm-blog]

(BW theme is my favorite :D )

Master!Loki / Slave!Clint is also my likeable one.

[archivedimanavenger-blog]

ship tag drop: pascale editon

@fortcvolontc any more ships we should have? 

{ & fortcvolontc; amerihawk } No camera could ever capture the look in my eyes and the feelings in my heart when I look at you.

{ & fortcvolontc; wandaclare } I want to wear your t-shirt and I want to wake up and make you coffee and kiss you.

{ & fortcvolontc; scarlethawk } When they ask you what your favorite moment is, you will say her. You will always say her.

{ & fortcvolontc; winterhawk } Bring me your violent kiss with those cruel lips. Just kiss and kiss and bruise until slowly we forget.

{ & fortcvolontc; ironhawk } If I lay here; If I just lay here; Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

{ & fortcvolontc; hawkeye2 } We’ve danced in the rain; Each of us hugged by the drops; Laughing that we’re wet.

{ & fortcvolontc; bird bros } Dear Shithead; I Love you to the Moon and Back.

{ & fortcvolontc; lokiclint } Your mood & attitude won’t mold & unfold me; I only bend for gentle hands. If you touch me; you’ll find stone.

[mint729]

go to sleep~ good night~

[nomercypercyderolo]

Loki/Clint fic, anyone?

                For a second, the briefest of seconds, Loki considered letting him go. He could easily release his mind from its prison but then where would that leave him? Clint wouldn’t hesitate in shooting an arrow through his skull. He wouldn’t wait to hear what he had to say and Loki couldn’t blame him.  

                His frown deepened as he reached up to Clint’s face, whose stony demeanor didn’t even allow him to flinch, and rested his hand on his cheek. Rather than pulling away as he expected, as he knew Clint would, this other being in his shell leaned into the touch as he knew Loki wanted him to. He quickly pulled his hand away, holding back a hiss as if the simple action burned him. At that, Clint appeared startled with a touch of worry and shame around his eyes.

                “Did I do something wrong?���

                He was like a kicked puppy or an aggrieved child. Loki couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes. “No, Clint. I’m afraid, in this state, you can do no wrong.”

                This appeared to please him, or at least he assumed it did. Clint simply resumed his stoic expression and stared at Loki as if awaiting an order. A smile that looked more like a grimace tugged at the corners of Loki's mouth. If he wanted an order, he would give him one.

                “Clint.”

                “Yes, boss,” he responded instinctively.

                “Remove your shirt.”

                He didn’t even think about it before he clasped the hem of his shirt in his hands and pulled it up and over his head. Loki soaked in the sight of every muscle, every shadow, every edge and crevice. Anywhere he could touch. And he could touch. As long as Clint was under his control, he belonged to him. He reached out and wrapped his hands around his shoulders, pushing him back as he stepped forward until Clint’s back hit a wall.

Loki’s hands left his shoulders, trailing down his arms like water until they reached his wrists. His long, pale fingers wrapped around them like thread before yanking his arms above his head, gripping his them with enough force that he was just shy of breaking them. Clint never reacted. He didn’t show pain or fear or anger. Loki pressed his body up against him and stared down at the archer with venomous distaste. The dead blue eyes that stared back mocked him, almost laughing as the swirling magic danced within them. It presented Loki what he wanted wrapped in a bow while showing how little of it he could actually have.

A hot, searing rage tore through his veins. He clenched his teeth as his hold on Clint’s wrists tightened. He wanted to see something in his face. Happiness, hatred, pure, unbridled agony. He could feel the bones in his grip start to fracture before he finally dropped Clint’s arms. He figured his mindless archer would need his arms. He couldn’t bear to look at any part of him anymore as he turned around to walk away. He had important business to attend to. The war against Midgard wasn’t going to start itself.

“Boss?” Clint’s voice almost pleaded behind him, completely purposeless without a command.

                Loki scowled. “Clothe yourself, Barton. We have work to do.”

[archivedimanavenger-blog]

blog chores 1

SHIPS! For the ship page I am making. If I am missing our ship tag then tell me please! 

[renmackree]

NSFW gifs Part 2

Collection of Clint/everyone.... Because Twizzler talked me into it. I love that little hawk... feel free to use them...

[croik]

Clint/Loki - But Don't Say "Ahh"

Rating: PG-13 Words: 1400 Summary:  Written for this prompt on the kinkmeme: Clint orders Loki to suck on his arrow (movie spoilers).  Non-conish Also on AO3

"No," says Clint.

Loki's lips quirk in a sheepish, it-was-worth-a-shot smile, but then Clint inches the head of the arrow closer.  He wants to feel satisfaction when Loki's smile fades, when his gaze flickers from one angry Avenger to the next, but he doesn't.  He can't take any pleasure from Loki's hands slowly rising in surrender.  It's not enough.  Loki may be bruised and bloodied, but he's also breathing.  Clint can see in Loki's eyes that even though he's lost, he knows that imprisonment, not death awaits him.  He will never suffer as much as the people he's hurt, never taste the fear that's pushed his enemies to the point of desperation. 

He will never suffer enough for Clint to be satisfied.

Clint inches closer again.  His entire body is drawn tight and his fingertips quiver against the bowstring, aching and eager to let it fly.  Loki stares straight back, calling his bluff, even when the tip of the arrow presses a tiny crease to his bottom lip.  He's seen Clint's heart and he knows that Clint won't fire with his peers at his back.

A few hours ago, he might have been right.  But the world has fewer people in it that it did then, and Clint can feel the loss more keenly than he ever thought he would.  His life, made up of only a handful of acquaintances to begin with, is falling in on itself, and it's so easy to let it narrow a little further, until it's only him and Loki in their hollow shell of destruction and regret.

"You want to suck on something," Clint says from somewhere outside himself, "you suck on this."

He presses the arrow into Loki's lip and draws blood.  Loki doesn't flinch but his eyes widen and leap to a point over Clint's shoulder.   Clint seethes.  "Don't look at him," he says, his voice calm despite the fire coursing up and down his taut arm.  "You look at me."  His fingers slip a little more off the bowstring.  "Look."

Loki does.  He traces the length of the arrow to Clint's face, and though his nerves are starting to show, it isn't enough.  He will never fear enough for Clint to be satisfied.

"Open your mouth," Clint orders.

"Barton," says a voice from somewhere behind him.  Clint can barely make it out.  "That's enough."

"No, it's not."  Clint's every joint is tight with strain as he leans carefully forward, digging the arrow into Loki's skin.  Blood trickles over Loki's chin and this time he flinches, but he otherwise remains still.  So Clint tells him again.  "Open your mouth."

"Clint."  It's Natasha.  She's edging closer.  "Stop."

"No," Clint says.  Sweat evaporates off his forehead and he shivers.  His fingers are numb but they move without him, flexing against his weapon.  He feels even less in control of himself than when Loki was in his mind, and as much as he hates himself for it, he can't stop.  Natasha is just over his right shoulder and he knows what she's about to do.

"Don't," Clint says, his voice still calm and even.  "Don't touch me, or I'll do it."  Natasha knows better than to expect a bluff from him, and once she's stopped moving, Clint puts all his attention back on Loki.  "Now open your fucking mouth."

Loki sucks in a slow breath through his teeth.  He looks again over Clint's shoulder, but whatever he's seeing doesn't help him, because finally a flash of anxiety draws his face tight.  He opens his mouth.

Clint pushes the arrow forward.  The head is serrated and it catches Loki's skin, splitting his top lip.  Loki shifts as if fighting the urge to retreat, his eyes again skittering to each Avenger, but he's still not worried enough.  He doesn't believe that Clint will let the arrow fly, that at such a short distance it will have all the momentum it needs to bury into the back of his throat, slice through the base of his skull and sever his spinal cord.  Even a god can't survive that.

The men and woman behind him are restless.  Someone is saying something, but from so far away that Clint can't hear.  His heart is pounding in his ears and his stomach clenches at the sight of Loki growing pale on the other end of his arrow.  The serrations rub against the roof of Loki's mouth and his throat convulses involuntarily.  He's staring at his brother, and Clint thinks he hears Thor ordering them both down, but Clint can't obey.  Loki is crumbling in front of him and he has to watch.  He can't look away, he can't let Loki survive with his sins, he can't breathe, and his entire arm is trembling and numb--he has to keep his eye on the weapon lodged in Loki's mouth, because he's afraid he won't know if he's fired or not until Loki's brain pours down his back.

And then Loki meets his gaze again.  The fear turns to something bitter and hard.  His tongue presses up against the head of the arrow and Clint freezes.  It flicks over the sharpened ridges, caressing even as his taste buds snare and spill fresh blood over his lips.  Without a sound Loki leans forward, drawing the arrow deeper into his mouth.

Everyone falls still.  Clint alone is less than statuesque, shuddering with incomprehension as his wrath implodes in on itself.  All Loki has to do is widen his red lips and he's suddenly in control, as easily and as surely as when Clint was nothing more than his willing slave.  He seals his mouth over the widest part of the arrow and sucks, the quiet smack of wet flesh on metal the only sound in Clint's burning ears. 

Kill him, Clint thinks, but he can't move as Loki's eyelids droop and a thin, eager sound hums out of his throat.  The head of the arrow disappears entirely within Loki's mouth and Clint is helpless.  He has no idea how it's happened but he's lost.  Insanity screams at the back of his brain until the inside of his skull is blackened.  He has to kill Loki and he can't, even when Loki draws the arrow in far enough to tickle the back of his throat.

The muscles along Loki's jaws clench.  All at once he bares his teeth and bites through the shaft.  Clint doesn't feel his fingers release the bowstring.  He sees Loki jerk to the side, faster than should be possible even for him, so that the remaining arrow flies cleanly past his cheek.  Five steel fingers wrap around Clint's wrist and he's dragged forward, twisted, long arms pinning his own to his sides.  Before Clint can comprehend what's happened Loki has him back to chest, their legs tangled and secure.  He's a hostage.

Loki's lips pull back, and he uses his tongue to twist the arrowhead around, until it's clenched in his teeth with the blades against Clint's neck.  When Loki chuckles, the fleck of his blood against Clint's jaw makes him nauseous.  "I'd still like my drink," he manages to purr, even around his weapon.

Tony says something, or maybe it's Steve.  Clint doesn't know or care.  Loki's voice against his ear raises every hair on his body and his nerves jolt with involuntary movement.  Without a thought spared to anything else, his hand spasms against the bow still clutched in his grip, triggering the explosive nestled into the arrow head which Loki has overlooked.  It bleats in shrill warning, and when Clint feels Loki's entire body clench against his in real panic, it's worth it.  It's so worth it.

The Avengers flood over them.  Thor rips the arrow out of Loki's mouth, and Hulk heaves it through the shattered windows, and Steve and Tony bend Loki's arms back, and Natasha--Clint can't figure out where Natasha is until he's in her arms, safe from the wrestling and the commotion and the boom of vengeance misfiring somewhere far above Manhattan's streets.  He stares at bright red and orange blossoming beyond his reach and wishes it was closer, much closer.  He wants to feel it hot and devastating against the side of his face while Loki's head disintegrates into ash alongside.  Only that would be enough.

"Clint," Natasha says close to his ear.  Her arms are around his shoulders and she holds him still when his lungs remember how to breathe in painful starts and stutters.  She eases the bow out of his throbbing hands when pins and needles announce the return of blood to his constricted capillaries.  "It's over," she says, letting him hide his face against her shoulder when his world crashes in a little deeper.  "You've done enough."

But she's wrong and it'll never be enough. 

[garfieldandfoes]

A really cute LokixHawkeye fanfic. If you're into the ship I would recommend it. 

[luteces]

Loki/Clint: Gagged

ridiculously short drabble requested by gentletide

Loki slid his fingers up Clint's arms, tracing the veins with avid interest.

“I’m going to bleed you dry,” He crooned into Clint’s ear, watching as his captive shivered, skin already hypersensitive from the frost. He raised his head to level a tired but defiant glare, at which Loki smiled almost lovingly.

He dug blunt nails into Clint’s jaw, watching the ball of his adam’s apple bob and constrict. He slowly squeezed his fingers into the sides of the metal gag and into Clint’s mouth.

He breathed out a satisfied laugh when the archer struggled, clenching his jaw as if to bite but was unable to.

He started move and thrust the fingers inside Clint’s mouth. The archer gagged, blue eyes wet, tearing and narrowing in revulsion. Loki hummed in approval.

“I think I do prefer you in your muzzle.” Loki murmured into the nape of his neck and chuckled softly when he felt Clint’s skin break into gooseflesh. 

“Can’t defy me any longer, little bird.”

[baegentnorthdakota]

chocorainbowbiach gave me the prompt: "Loki's inner beast when it comes to Clint."

Needless to say, I was excited to write this.

As the God of Mischief, Loki had no problem with touching other people's things. You had to know what it would hurt people to lose, what was important enough that they would lose sleep until it was recovered. It was all part of the trick, you see, and it was one of his favorites. As a child he often wondered what would happen if he'd been able to hide Mjolnir. 

And he always wanted to gain something from it. He wanted to play with the new toy, sneak a bite of whatever was for dessert that night. And as he grew he began to covet more dangerous things. Spells, weapons, armies...people.

When he had fallen from the Bifrost, a part of him had broken, split itself wide open, and all the feelings Loki had suppressed or tried to hide from himself all those years had consumed him. His envy, his rage, his sadness, his loneliness...they filled him with the urge to steal and covet.

So when Loki found himself in the position to take what he wanted, to gain a companion, a lover, a friend...

Who could blame him for taking Clint Barton? 

Because surely he was more to Loki than a servant, a bodyguard or a lap dog. He had shared his secrets with Loki. They had a connection. They were similar.

But as it was, as comfortable as Loki was with coveting what wasn't his, he was not okay with others taking his things. He protected what was his, what he claimed as his.

And he intended to keep his archer for as long as he could. 

[mint729]

I like this couple, they look like so far but some time close~

I'm challenge a "Questionnaire for Cohabitation" about them~this is firstday :)