I'm different (Avengers fanfic)

C13-What? Kneel?

Chapter 13: What? Kneel?
*3rd Person’s POV* 
(Monday)
The raven-haired god’s emerald eyes widened in shock. “What? Kneel?” Loki asked incredulously, not believing what he just heard. 

“Yes, Lokes. You have to trust me, okay? This isn’t to hurt you, or to make you feel beneath me, or beneath any of us. I just want to try this out with you, and if you trust me, can you do it please?” the blonde archer asked, hope and encouragement shining in his eyes as he gently grasped onto the god’s wrist, drawing little circles with his thumb to calm Loki down. The god took one look at the pillow already set on the floor beside the couch and then turned his gaze back at Clint. He shut his eyes, lips still pursed, as he sighed. 

“Damn you, Clint,” he muttered under his breath, but knew the archer could hear him when Clint chuckled and let go of his wrist, giving Loki some space. The god slowly bent his left knee, all the way until he hit the pillow and lowered the other knee, before adjusting himself to the correct kneeling position. Legs shoulder width apart, palms face up on his thighs, head down. This was how the submissives were trained back in Asgard. Loki always had to walk past the class for submissives to get to his neutral class, and had caught a few glimpses of this kneeling stance. 

His eyes trailed on the floor, Loki felt someone massaging his scalp, fingers making their way through his black, shoulder-length hair. He sighed contentedly, melting into the archer’s touch. Loki could hear a low chuckle as Clint continued to stroke and massage his scalp. Soon, a cherry red tint graced his snow white face, as Loki noticed how relaxed and comfortable he was while kneeling. 

“Are you comfortable?” Clint asked. Loki wanted to lie. He wanted to say no and stop relaxing. But he couldn’t. He would receive a punishment for lying. Besides, he never wanted to leave the state of bliss he was going through right now. 

“Yes,” was all he said. Clint hummed and continued petting Loki’s hair. 

“Can I add something?” Clint asked after awhile. Loki looked up and gave a look that said go ahead. The archer slowly pulled out something and showed it to the god, who gasped, the rosy blush on his cheeks intensifying, turning his cheeks a lovely tomato red. But, the god nodded shyly and Clint smirked, as he put it onto the god. 

It was a leash. A dark green velvet leash, with the words, “Clint Barton’s property”, embedded in the soft velvet. The said archer tugged on the leash a little, and was rewarded with Loki’s whimpers as the god felt his collar chaffing his neck slightly, but he loved it. The god didn’t know why, but he loved it. He loved being dominated, he loved giving up control. But this made him scared. Scared that this will be used against him. 

Loki soon pulled away, forcing himself to go the other direction of Clint’s pulls, almost choking himself. The archer noticed this immediately and stopped tugging. In one swift move, the blonde managed to heave the raven up onto the couch, between Clint’s legs, and gently wrapped his hands around the god. “What’s wrong, kitten?” he asked, stroking Loki’s hair. 

The god of mischief blushed once more. He loved being called that name too. He didn’t know why, but he absolutely loved it, and he craved it. He needed it. It was like life support to him, depending his whole life onto it, who was Clint. “I-“ he started but cut himself off by looking at the floor, playing with the hem of his hoodie. 

“Go on,” Clint urged gently. 

Sucking in a deep breath, Loki managed to pour out his feelings. “I like being dominated, giving up control. I like kneeling, I like how you pull on my leash, I like how you call me kitten. But this makes me afraid,” he paused, “I’m afraid that you will use this against me, forcing me to do things that I’m not comfortable with. I know you’re my dominant and all but-“ 

Loki’s words were cut off with his own squeal as Clint latched his lips onto the god’s neck and began sucking, one hand holding onto the collar to prevent it from obstructing the Loki’s neck. The archer’s teeth grazed the pale skin, earning a moan from Loki. He kept sucking, as Loki squirmed and moaned, soft whimpers escaping his lips. Eventually, Clint pulled away, revealing a dark red bruise left on Loki’s neck. 

“Now people will really know you’re mine,” Clint grinned, “but its okay to like being dominated, to like giving up control. And I promise, that I won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with, without asking you first, okay?” Loki nodded, still recovering from the hickey that Clint gave him. 

“Words, pet,” the archer growled, mouth right beside the god’s ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Loki’s spine. 

“Yes, Clint,” 

“Ah, I don’t want you to call me that,” 

“What?” 

“Call me either Sir, Master,” Clint chuckled before continuing, “or Daddy,” 

Loki gulped and whimpered, but gave a soft, “Yes sir,” and Clint smirked. 

“This is going to be fun,” Clint thought.