He digs his fingers in harder, and thrusts forward roughly, dragging Toni's body back into the rocking motion until their skin connecting with loud smacks joining the whimpers and keens Toni lets out against the pillow Loki has her face pressed into.
He’s being brutal. it is normal for them but tonight it’s more..... Tonight Loki is pissed. It’s intentional, the way he lets the tips of his fingers curl and dig, little crescents marring her delicate body. He hopes they bloom with bruises come morning in the shape of his fingers despite the extremis. He hears the choked off moans and the dragged out hisses of her muffled keens and he can only think “louder, more noise, more desperation,” he wants her to sob for his cock and leave tear stains on the pillowcase.
It’s not enough. They’ve been at it for a little over twenty minutes now and the hot press of her small body isn’t fixing the dark feeling in his chest. but he just slams in harder, his thighs tense and arms tight as he manipulates her body the way HE wants. he pays no mind to accuracy, he does not feel like being a generous fuck. He is taking, and he will take, just as he wants. He knows he isn’t hitting her bundle of nerves by the way that the mortal beneath him writhes, her range of movement limited by the way he holds her in an unforgiving grip, and the shaking of her limbs preventing her from gaining more leverage.
He is convinced if he can fuck her to tears, to a sobbing mess, it might make the curling, clawing, ache in his chest loosen. It might make him forget the cologne he’d smelled on her when he pressed her against the front door and bit punishing marks down the column of her throat. If he could just bury himself to the point of burning into her body, leave her stinging for days, maybe then she won’t look at the men at the galas they frequent and flirt with them all. Maybe, if he can leave every inch of her perfect body marked in blistering red and nasty purple browns, that she can actually be his.
The thought tears a growl from somewhere in the god's chest and he delivers another gut clenching hard thrust into her, she whimpers beneath him. Loki watches sweat bead and pool between her tense shoulder blades and leans forward across her back, switching to short pumping, too shallow to be satisfying for her.
He drags his teeth down her spine and the sound she makes is high-pitched and desperate. Loki hears the muffled croak of his name from the pillow. her voice sounds tight and jagged and Loki wonders if it’s from when he’d forced her down to her knees to take Loki into her mouth, quick and dirty in the hall between in the elevator. From where he’d gripped her ponytail tightly in his fist, tipped her head back, and made her choke on his cock until there was saliva pressing from the corner of her stretched swollen lips and unshed wetness in her eyes.
Antonia somehow finds the strength to twist her head away from the pillows and meets Loki’s gaze. There’s a glassy, far away slackness to her expression and Loki only finds mild satisfaction in the way her cheeks are flushed and her mouth is bitten raw and slick.
“Ple- please, oh fuck, please, I need, I need - Lokes, please .” Loki knows what she is asking for and fights a sadistic urge to keep her pinned there, belly down, and fuck her in the torturous way he currently is until he finds his own completion and she is left shaking and begging for her mutual release. Instead, he hauls himself back up to where he’s leaning on his knees and pulls out.
The cry she makes is like that of a wounded animal.
“No, no, no, Lo, please, please,” she babbles, she pleads in a way Loki has never heard before and he wonders if he’s brought her to a place where her nerves are so frayed and dragged thin that a coherent thought is no longer possible. He’s managed to make her beg before, but it’s always been with a tone of teasing, this has none of that, it’s like the fever of his ceaseless ministrations has left her half-mad with pleasure.
Loki reaches down and pulls her legs straight, manhandling her easily with his godly strength until his hips are vertical against the mattress and he’s got one of her knees crooked over his shoulder, legs open as he slides forward into his space and back into her body. she throws her head back and in the dim light of the room, Loki can see the trail of hickeys already molting dark against the tendon of her neck, they'll be gone in hours but he'll enjoy them while they last.
The spooling heat of an orgasm thrums heavy in his body and he presses deeper. He can feel the tightness of her thigh under his palm, muscles drawn tight as he forces her into the stretch. It’s sure to be uncomfortable but it allows him to sink just that much further in on his next thrust.
Antonia continues to pant and moan beneath him but she’s not where Loki wants her. she’s not sobbing. Loki, even in the hazy of heady, angry lust, knows her body as well as his own and adjusts the angle of his hips a fraction. The next thrust has her going shockingly taunt, back arching as the walls of her body clench, breath-stealing and tight, around his cock.
“There, there, there ” she wails, leg already trembling in his hold. He presses his fingers into her flesh and watches as she bites her bottom lip and screws her doe eyes shut. Instead of pulling out and pressing back in, he rolls his hips in a tantalizing grind, repeatedly pressing the head of his cock against her G spot in careful deep drags. It makes her eyes snap open again, glowing extremis blue and she’s gasping wet, head thrashing around the pillows, now sweat and spit damp. he can read the way her mouth shapes the word “no” over and over again even as her body greedily tries to work itself down on his dick. she’s past the point of being able to speak and Loki can't fight the self-satisfied smirk from curling dark at the corners of his mouth.
she scrambles with her free hand, the one not holding on for dear life, but. he just takes her wrist into an iron grip and twists until her arm is behind her back and pressing into the bed.
she howls and the darkness in hiss chest is sickeningly satisfied as the first tear streaks down her face. There’s something in the wreckage of her body that makes him preen, the idea that only he can do this, only he can see her this way.
“I can’t -” Antonia's cut off by her own high pitched sob, “I can’t Lokes, I can’t!” she thrashes again but hd refuses to take pity, to take stock of her in the way he should. Instead, he presses hard into the skin of her inner thigh with his nose and growls possesivly.
“You will.”
When her crying doe eyes meet his own Loki curls his lips back in a snarl, draws his hips away, slams in, and bites.
the beautiful mortal’s eyes roll to the back of her head, her mouth falling open in a silent scream and she falls apart.
Loki is sure he will never be able to forget the image for all his long life. Only a moment later does he register the quaking of her legs, muscles bunching tight and then spasming, the coil of her own pleasure drawing tighter. the god fucks her body through her orgasm, chasing his own through the clench and sudden tightness. Past the rush of blood in his ears, Loki can hear the distant “ah, ah, ahs” of Antonia's breath being punched out with each hard thrust, but his eyes have shut closed against his will and with his body, on the edge of bliss he can’t force them open.
Each time he presses in, again and again, her body clenches tightly around him, overstimulated, and after a handful more thrusts the dam holding his pleasure back cracks and crumbles away and he’s cumming in long hot bursts into his beautiful mortal’s body.
The climax leaves him light-headed and all at once, he can breathe again. Once his own shuddering has subsided Loki lets his eyes fall open, and though, still prickling with starbursts as his mind comes back slowly into his body, he absorbs the visage of Antonia's body. All of him seems to have gone limp and the trickster pulls away and out, a string of his own cum following him as he exits her folds.
It’s enough to make his cock give a wretched little twitch, he is disgusted at himself. It’s the first time they’ve had sex without a condom.
Though the rest of Antonia seems to no longer be functioning her chest is still rising in rapid little bursts, slowing gradually with each and every inhale she manages to take. Her eyelids are still shut and if it weren’t for the fact that Loki knows her so well, he’d think he’d fucked her into unconsciousness.
The post-orgasm haze starts to lift and the god is left to finally realize what it is he’s just done. All at once, he feels a sicking twist in his stomach worse than when he had been tortured. He takes stock of her body more carefully, cataloging each transgression as he goes.
There’s the string of hickeys and bite marks from when he’d dragged her, angry and possessive, into the penthouse and slammed her against the door. There are vibrant red lines down over her breasts and around the reactor, cherry bright against golden olive skin from where he had clawed her fitted gown from her small, sculpted torso. There are the bruises, already shifting from maroon to purple on her sculpted hips, if he were to place his hand over them they’d line up with his fingers perfectly, and he doesn’t even have to look at her wrist to know that a circle of matching color will be there by morning. Then, finally, he looks to her inner thighs where the indent of his teeth is pressed deep into the flesh, tender around the edges.
Mesmerized, he traces a fingertip lightly against the outline, still feeling the phantom pressure against his teeth. iron queen’s toned muscle twitches away from his touch and he feels like throwing up. He works his gaze back up the mortal woman’s body to watch as her lashes flutter open and their eyes meet. A slow smile curls onto her mouth, lazy and satiated, though slightly pinched as she tries to sit up on her elbows, only to give a full-body shudder that cuts off in a wince and flop back down.
“loki, what got into you,” she says the words lightly, with a raspy laugh and the god can’t find anything about what he’s just done amusing. In fact, he can pinpoint the moment that she seems to realize he is looking particularly pale-faced, given what they’d just done. her arched brows crease together and again she attempts to rise, only to fail. “Lokes? What’s wro-” the god stands from the bed with as much grace as can. It does nothing to smooth the worry from his mortal's face.
Without a word, he stalks off to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth, body already set to autopilot while his mind runs through every hardship he’d just put the woman he is in love with through. Only for his own sick pleasure and satisfaction. He makes sure the towel is appropriately warm, tries to calm his breathing, and returns to the bed where Antonia is watching his every move. she sees the cloth in his hand and tries to smile again.
“Thanks!” Her voice is still raspy and hoarse. It reminds her of how he’d pressed and pressed and pressed until his cock was trapped in the tightness of Iron queen's throat until he could see her struggling to breathe around the girths. With trembling fingers, the god runs the damp towel between her legs until he’s sure he’s cleaned up most of the mess of cum and semen and saliva from where he’d fucked his tongue into her folds alongside the fingers he’d made her slick up with her own spit. And then of course where his own cock had just been.
He tries to pretend he can’t see the way that she flinches from the gentle brush against her over sensitive skin or the way she whimpers in pain under her breath each time he moves his body over so that he can magically wash the sheets. he lets himself go through the motions of their typical clean up. He slips on a pair of soft pajama pants, gives her a pair to wear as well, then slips away to get her cool water from the fridge and an extra sheet to tuck her body under while she lays in bed.
Once he’s done all that Loki lets himself come back to his body, cages his thoughts, still trapped in horrible guilty circles. He’s hardly been able to look at Antonia since they’d finished. He sits on the furthest edge of the bed, back to her instead of beside her as he might typically do. He hears her place the glass of water on the bedside table and can practically see the way she must be fidgeting uncomfortably.
Loki has always been careful with his words, using them as a sword and shield, using them to get what he wants and spin stories. This time is no different as he takes what feels like his first full breath since earlier that evening at the. charity gala.
“I do not believe we should continue to do this.”
The silence that meets his is a chasm. He knows her hands have stopped their incessant twitching but it seems she’s even stopped breathing as well. The tension in the air is palpable but the god waits for her to respond, he will always wait for her even if it hurts.
He hears the soft and scratchy clearing of a throat behind him.
“Did I…” there’s a catch in her words like she’s trying to work out how to use them, the god digs his nails into his palms, keeps his eyes on the opposite wall, determined to not turn around and allow himself back into the arms of the one he’s ripping himself away from. “Did I do something wrong?”
All of Loki’s resolve shatters helpless against his mortal.
When he turns toward her he feels his jaw clench uncontrollably. Antonia's eyes are glassy again and her rueful little smile doesn’t match the tone that she’d whispered. in “did I do something wrong?” It’s heart tearing.
“No.” he must be firm, letting his face show the conviction he feels.
“Then why ?” And Loki isn’t sure if it’s anger or clipped desperation but he lets his features soften as much as he can force them to, anything to please Antonia.
He doesn’t feel like he should have to explain. His crimes covering the perfect skin he’d wanted to brand his touch into. Even covered now with loose pants and the spare sheets around her strong shoulders Loki can still trace where his marks are painted on her body. But still, she has always deserved everything she wants, and the god has never truly been able to deny the mortal with a brilliant soul.
“I have crossed a line,” he lets his eyes trail to her throat, her wrist, the bite he knows must be sore and throbbing. Antonia’s expression scrunches in momentary confusion and then she laughs, just a little, and it pulls some of the guilty tension from loki's shoulders.
“So you were a bit rough today? That’s not crossing a line, Lokes,” she reaches a hand forward but the godi is resolute in his decision and moves away. It would only be a risk to his mortal if they continue further. The evidence of that is clear. she makes that pinched face again. “Rudolph,” it’s soft, placating, “I’m okay, it’s okay, I didn’t say no right?” And he wishes that were enough, his mortal's insistence and gentle tone.
“But you did not say yes.”
In all the nights they’ve come together over the last few months, friendship slipping into something more intimate over a grueling evening post-battle, they’d never really discussed the boundaries of the fragile thing now between them. Loki has never pretended to be any less desperate for his mortal than he is. He’s left memories of their sex on his only friend's skin, but never like this. There is no excuse. He has hurt her, taken out his pent up confusion and frustration in a way that is indefensible.
she reaches out for him again, he slips off the bed and further from those calloused tempting hands. It makes an angry expression draw tight on to her face.
“So, let me get this straight,” she starts, voice low, “because I’m just a little confused here. You fuck me into your mattress so good I cum multiple times and will be feeling it for weeks, I give no complaints, I don’t tell you to stop, I’m actually very sure I encouraged you multiple times, and you’re using this mindblowing, very sexy, amazing night that I will be using repeatedly, and quite enthusiastically, on the days when you’re busy with new Asgard, and you’re using it as a reason to break up with me?”
the god gets caught on the fact that his mortal is apparently going to pleasure herself with the memories of this night, that he almost, but not really, misses the last bit of what she says.
Break. Up.
“Breakup?” he can’t help the little crack in his throat, the confusion, the sudden tightness.
He hadn’t realized they’d been dating. And suddenly there are so many questions that he wants, no, needs, the answers to. How long? Since the first night, they’d fallen together post-battle, on the workshop floor while he’d moaned openly into her mouth. Or was it the first time he had accepted her constant request to get food? The first coffee shared in a too crowded cafe? The first time their eyes had met? That, at least, was how long he had been hers even if he denied it for a long time.
Antonia is staring at him, watching the way his expression is sure to be morphing as each thought rolls at rapid speed through his brain.
she must catch what he’s not saying because her face goes from slack to sad to suddenly very very embarrassed. she dashes from the bed, legs unsteady at the sudden weight they need to carry, and starts to look around for her discarded clothes.
“Right, yeah, of course, I shouldn’t have - It was stupid, I was stupid, to assume. I mean. We never even talked about it! And look at me! you're a god. you can have anyone why would I matter? I'm just a playgirl and a sugar momma” she laughs in her self-deprecating way, he realizes she’s slipping the mask back over, the ones she uses for the rogues and the media. Hiding away and his body goes ice cold, colder. than his Jotun form. It’s been so long since he’s seen the falseness on her face he’s forgotten how much it hurts him.
he lunges forward when she finds her shirt and lifts it from the ground, clearly intent on leaving. His hand curls around his mortal's wrist, even in panic, careful of the circle of bruises he’s left on there. It stills them both, the skin on skin. Their eyes meet, and he watches a small sad smile curl on her still swollen lips that don’t reach her eyes.
“It’s okay lokes, I jumped to conclusions, I should have realized it wasn’t anything more than a good fuck, that’s on me.”
Loki whines. Actually whines WHY IS HE WHINING HE IS NOT A CHILD, HE IS A GOD!!! but his Antonia is hurt, in a way that he had never seen. He uses his hand to pull her forward, the shirt dropping from her grip to fall back on the floor. and into his arms.
The mask slips away and the god of lies stares as his precious mortal's mouth goes slack and then frowning, eyes wide and questioning but also carefully guarded.
“Loki?” Her voice is soft and it still has the tinge of croaking. He makes that soft little whine again in the back of his throat, words no longer able to serve him as they often have before, his silver tongue is tied. He leans forward, tucks his head into her hair, and takes just a moment to breathe, get his thoughts in order.
The silence seems to drag too long, his darling Antonia whispers his name again, just as confused.
“Did not know,” Loki says sadly, voice muffled by Antonia's hair. “you did not tell me.”
“I didn’t think I had to, I thought you knew,” and Loki is both delighted and exasperated to hear an edge of exasperation, the longer they’re connected like this makes the sudden, dangerous, pressure ease from around them. he pulls back, brings his hand from her arm to hesitantly cup his mortal's cheek. Their gazes meet and even the god of chaos and mischief can’t dare to look away.
“Always hoped,” he lets his thumb brush across her delicate skin, “but I’ve never let myself assume, how could I have known if you did not say?” He lets his lips quirk, just a small amount, teasing in the way that always makes her eyes light up and grin at him.
The effect is immediate, if not a bit watery with unshed tears. he can feel the telltale sting in his own eyes as well, he is a god. he's not supposed to cry but he can't bring himself to care.
“I love you.” she blurts out she starts her endearing rambling “For a while, for forever even, and I never thought- I was being selfish, that first time, but then you let me keep touching you and I thought it meant you loved me too, wanted me too, and I- “ the shameless god feels his cheeks burn, but he can do nothing but lean forward and stop her mouth with a kiss. It lacks intensity but the softness can’t be mistaken, she sinks further against him. When they drawback all the sadness has been banished from her doe eyes and he smiles gently down at her.
“Love you, Antonia. you're my precious little mortal. Always. Forever.” It’s a heavy promise but one that he has no problems with making. It makes her blush adorably all the way down to her still exposed breasts and she weakly punches him in the chest.
“You can’t say things like that, reindeer games! you know I have a heart condition.” she’s being dramatic, and she's back to being his mischievous little mortal, enough that Loki scoops her up and carries her bridal style back to the bed. she squeals into his shoulder and clings tightly to his back.
Loki lowers his precious mortal down and rolls to his side, but not far away, never again, not now that he knows he can be this close without the gnawing jealousy trying to claw itself from his stomach. Toni shuffles closer, wincing slightly as she shifts her obviously sore muscles and drapes across Loki's body. His eyes trace her delicate figure again, cataloging all the places she must be aching. While the jealousy is gone, the guilt is not, he hurt her, he's a frost giant, a monster, but she still loves him. she must be able to read it in his expression and lets out an amused little breath.
“You shouldn’t pull that face, Lokes,” she drags the tip of a finger from his temple, down to his jaw and then across to stroke against his slightly parted mouth, Toni’s eyes darken, “not when I am very much interested in a repeat performance.” The way her voice becomes a low and quiet purr makes Loki’s throat go dry and as much as his godly stamina has been proven time and time again, he doesn’t think even iron queen's enhanced body could take another bout. Toni surprises him, always, and giggles. Reading him as easily as a book. “Not now, of course, I still can’t feel all of my legs, but again, for sure.” Toni pulls her hand back from his face and tucks herself against Loki as his fingers card through her hair.
A beat of comfortable silence passes they’re drained and Loki has never felt more content.
“What did get into you today?” He hears Toni's innocent and slightly mischievous question and Loki's arm tightens. He grumbles his response, too quiet, he knows Toni wouldn’t have been able to hear even with her extremis enhanced hearing. “what?” she’s obviously amused, sensing Loki's rare embarrassment, the traitor.
“at the gala. rogers was getting handsy, he can't touch what isn't his, what he hurt, and everyone was staring at you like they could have you”
Toni giggles and presses closer, following after Loki's comforting presence.
“Never. Only want my Lokes.” Loki can feel Toni's soft smile where her head is pressed against his chest.
“Sleep now.” His tone is a mix of fond and amused.
Loki wraps Toni in his arms knowing he will destroy whoever tries to separate them.
NO ONE will hurt her, especially not him.
maybe he can get her an apple, then she can be his queen.
HIS iron queen.