#hatterweenfics

[wordynerdygurl]

Body & Soul

Author's Note: Hello everyone! This is my first Halloween on Tumblr and I wanted to try my hand at one of the prompt challenges. This story is centered around the Hatterween quote, "I have no plans to love you. No matter what. You can't make me love you." #hatterweenfics

Also, as of today I have 100 followers, which is so amazingly awesome that I can't really believe it's true!! I feel so grateful that you read my little stories and doubly so that you like 'em!!!

Feel free to reblog the stories, drop comments and ask me anything!! You're my people and I love you!!

Now, the details...

Pairing: Dark, Demonic Loki x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, rough language, Dark themes, D/s... in short, not our sweet boy but sexy just the same.

Summary: The best things happen when you dance, especially if your partner is a dark stranger, hungry for you, body and soul!

Damn, tequila tastes good. It's not the first time you've thought this, biting into a lemon, and sucking the tart citrus chaser down. After a long week at work, the shot tasted like forgetfulness, something you craved.

Normally you were a bar girl. A comfy stool or deep booth where you could nurse a beer and sing along to the jukebox, well, that was about perfect. Now though, you were moving on the dancefloor, colored lights making you throw your hips one way and your arms another. It felt great to get all of your angst and frustration out. Smiling to yourself, you let it all go as the tequila kicked in, just one more person in this sea of souls, escaping into the rhythmic music.

You sense eyes on you, unfamiliar and strange, but can't find who they belong too. That's when you realize that your girls aren't next to you. No, you're on your own in the center of the crowd.

The music shifts then. An unfamiliar song pumps over the crowd, rolling across the room like bruised storm clouds, pushing the club even closer to total darkness. It's disorienting and you turn to find one of your friends before a bubble of panic surfaces.

"May I?" The voice is dark like tinted glass and it's so close you feel the whisper on your cheek. Taking a half step back you size up the man who has invaded your space.

He is smouldering. Tall, taller than you by a foot at least and solid but trim. You look him over slowly, surprised by his interest, questioning his intentions.

A perfectly fitting suit of crimson hugs his broad shoulders, a matching vest showcases his narrow waist. His shirt, jet black. There is no tie. Sweeping your gaze over his face you're caught in the pure fire blue of his eyes. You notice raven hair curling across his collar in long strands and there's an itch in your fingers to pull it.

He's offered you his hand and shyly you accept. It's an old fashioned move but you're flattered by it all the same. There's something very formal, antique even, about the stranger and his pristine manners. He seems otherworldly and totally out of place in the nightclub.

You feel his arm wrap around your waist firmly, heat arcing through you at the contact. The touch of his palm against yours straightens your back as you are lead through the dance. "You move well, little one." His rough praise ruffles your hair. Flushing pink at the compliment you embarrassingly murmur, "Thanks."

He stares at you in a ravenous, coveting way, as if he'd like nothing better than to eat you up. You know from his carnal smirk that he would enjoy devouring you, body and soul. Swallowing thickly under his intense scrutiny you realize that you would allow him to, if he wanted, and somehow he knows that too.

You glide across the floor easily, his steps sure and graceful, making it seem like you are a more capable dancer. Trusting him with control of your body, you follow where he leads, mindlessly acquiescing to his urges. Once you stumble but his form never falters, keeping a sacred space between your bodies, his feet tireless as they move in time to the music.

You find the polite distance from him frustrating. If this were any other club jumper, he'd have his hands on your body, grinding his hips into you, timing it to the bass drop. But your red suited suitor is not like that. He makes the most of what physical contact you do share and you have to admit that it's an intimate experience. His hand on your back, your fingers laced together, that primal look in his eyes as they pierce into yours.

To you, it feels like you are the only two bodies in motion, the crowd falling into shadow around you. Maybe it's a trick of the lights, maybe it's the tequila. Either way, you enjoy the movements and the moments you two share, even if no words are spoken.

Too soon, in your opinion, the song finishes. Your partner, releasing his grip on you, presses a gentle kiss to your cheek before parting. "Until we meet again, little one."

You find voice enough to murmur, "Wait... who are you?"

But it's too late. Your breath catches on a soft sob as you watch his long legs carry him into the throbbing crowd. Willing him to look back at you, your searching eyes follow that blazing suit as long as you can. He never turns his head.

For the rest of the night you keep one eye out for your mysterious man. You can feel residual heat from his hand on your back, the skin there marked by his touch but that's not the only place he's set on fire. It's as if your crimson king has found the half gone flame of your arousal and poured lighter fluid on it.

Suddenly your nipples are painfully hard, straining against the cloth prison of your boosting bra. The panties you picked out special because of the tiny witches on them were flooded with your honey. And you could feel the red heat of your unending blush radiating off of your cheeks.

You slam another tequila shot, barely feeling the burn as it slides down your throat, since every other part of you is on fire. Pushing off of the bar, away from your people without a word, you will yourself to walk straight to the ladies room. There's something you have to do and it has to be done now.

Luckily the bathroom is empty. The stalls here are wide with walls that touch the floor and you are so grateful because you need the privacy. You've never done anything like this before but you're too exhilarated to stop now.

Quickly locking the door, you take a deep breath before lifting your skirt. You don't bother taking off your undies. Instead you shift them to the side and moan when your finger connects with your clustered nerves. Resting your heeled boot against the toilet you gather some of your slick and tease it over your sensitive nub.

When you close your eyes you see your man in red. He's on his knees before you with those long fingers on your milky thighs. Imaging his wicked tongue working on your womanhood, you swear you can almost feel him in there with you.

Tipping your head back, you let out a moan, leaning into the wooden wall of your stall. You're close to release imagining the dashing dancer pressing into you with hard hips and soft lips. Panting now, a name you've never heard before, flashes through your mind. The letters pulse behind your closed eyes, growing in intensity at the same rate as your pleasure. Your alcohol addled brain blinks to an image. The face of your scarlet stranger, his lean look and hungry eyes, the scorching sensation of his touch.

"Loki" you say it once, almost a question, testing how it sounds, breathless, as your body tries to reach its peak. "Loki!" Louder, clearer, stronger as your fingers rub roughly over your sensitive silk. "LOKI!", raggedly you scream as your body comes apart quickly in delicious contractions and warm liquid.

Taking a moment to calm your frayed nerves, you collapse onto the toilet seat. With shaking legs and racing heart you curse, "Holy shit." Even in your bed at night your body has never been so quick to reach its pinnacle.

You stand and straighten yourself up, feeling a bit guilty about your self love session. The mirror hides nothing and reflected in the fluorescent light you see your smudged eyeliner and racooned mascara. Cool water and a paper towel help but anyone can see that you've unravelled.

Your lips are swollen, your hair tangled, your skin alternatively flushed and blushing. Desire coils in your belly, dark and sinful. It's shocking to think that even though you just experienced a spell of sensual relief you can already feel the knot of need tightening in you again.

You had to get out of here. Now. Making a mental checklist you start: get to your friends and then get home. Those are your pressing tasks.

Time was of the essence as your skin was in flames. Each breath you took seemed to burn heat through your body, settling ashen embers in your liquid core. Every touch from an unsuspecting crowd surfer brought you closer to cumming. The brush of the waitress against your side was enough to force your thighs together, clenching your teeth.

Your dress was too clingy. The boots you wore, too heavy. All of your layers chaffed against you. Naked. That's what you needed to be and to ensure that you didn't get arrested, you needed to get someplace private, now.

"Guys!" Trying to sound casual when you clearly weren't, your friends looked you over in a loving if judgemental way. "Listen, I need to split. Anyone else coming?"

Without pausing for an answer, you grab your bag and start walking. "Um... ok. Ok. I'll get a car then. See you later!" You bit your bottom lip as you open your phone's drive share app. Head down in concentration, you make your way through the maze of dancers and drinkers, when you feel it again. Not it, rather, him.

You stop dead in your tracks.

He's just outside the door and you know he's waiting for you. Squaring your shoulders, trying to hide your body's betrayal at seeing him so soon, you planned on ignoring him. But your feet moved on thier own, taking you right up to him, as if they no longer were listening to your directions. At your approach he turned, a smile curled over his full mouth, "Little one, need a lift?"

You nod, yes. Loki offers you his strong hand once more, ushering you into his waiting car. He keeps you close to his side with those long arms of his wrapped around you. Cuddling you towards his heavy heat, you sigh and settle in for the drive.

No words are said. His hand idly strokes over your arm. You rest your cheek to his chest. Anyone could have mistaken you for long time lovers rather than the perfect strangers you were.

When the car stops Loki steps out first, straightening his suit coat, then reaching out, helps you gain the sidewalk. He leads you to his building, tall and dark like the man himself, with wrought iron rails around the windows and aging but beautiful stonework. You're reminded of the Beast's castle, from that fairy tale, a gothic haunted place where love, against the odds, manages to grow.

"Are you coming little one?" Loki's voice is feather light but it commands you just the same. Dim lamps flicker on once you cross the threshold, but you pay no attention to what they illuminate. You're being led onward, on to the place you have agreed to go ever since you took Loki's hand on the dance floor.

Heavy doors open to reveal a large, well made bed in the center of the room, the iron headboard reaching for the ceiling. Blood red comforters and black quilts are piled high, like a nest, for the long man in the crimson suit. A fire, raging orange, is the only light in this place. The shadows it cast leaping around the room like the club goers you left behind.

"Dance with me, little one." A song, the same from earlier, begins to play from somewhere in the house. This time, without the eyes of others on you, Loki's grip on you is tighter, his body closer than before. As you spin in time to the music his hands roam freely over your back, down to your bottom, gripping you hard.

You feel as if your person is no longer yours, but rather an extension of him. How did you ever live without his scalding touch? Were you alive before feeling the heat of Loki's gaze on you? Overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention, you lower your lashes, afraid that he will see your shameless, wanting need.

Nosing against you, Loki turns your head to face him, "Little one, you should know, I have no plans to love you. No matter what. You can't make me love you."

Stuck to the roof of your mouth, your tongue is of no actual help. Your mind is struggling to make sense of his words, the weight of them, the tone. It's important, you think, but his blown pupils and full lips distract your thoughts.

"But I will make you mine." And then Loki's blazing lips are on yours, hungry and unrelenting, as they try to drink in all of you. Fiery fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it back harshly, as his tongue licks over your jugular vein. Nipping your ear painfully, Loki tells you, "Give yourself to me, little one. Do it freely and I will let you howl my name, just as you did when you played with your pretty pussy tonight!"

Snapping your head up at the mention of your bathroom debasement, Loki snickers, "You couldn't keep your hands off of your needy body, that's how desperate you were to be mine. Now you will have to prove it to me."

Your knees buckle against the bed. Loki's steered you right where he wants you, and with no effort on his part, he pushes you back on the blanketed bed. Flames burning behind him, Loki towers over you, half shadowed in the flickering light. You think you see red horns on his head, but no, that's just a trick of the fire light, right?

For a second your mind shifts, I should be afraid, you think. But then Loki begins slipping off your boots and kissing a scalding path over each of your calves. You bow up from the mattress as Loki bites on the tendon inside your knee. It's a sensitive and unexpectedly erotic place on your body so you moan softly at the searing contact.

Reaching for him, you want to pull Loki to you. You want to give him some of the pleasure he's giving to you. Every attempt is swatted away until your man in red scolds, "If you can't control yourself, I will tie you down and finish things my way. Be good, little one. Please."

You decide to lay on your hands, tucking them under you, lest you be tempted to touch Loki again. This earns you a devilish grin before he returns to his work. Reaching under your skirt, Loki locks his eyes on yours and rubs you over your panties.

"Oh, little one. You're body is ready to be claimed. Look at how eager you are to belong to me!" Loki can't hide his own elation at your body's response. He traces over your split lips with one of his stiff fingers, pressing firmly against your straining bud, causing you to groan harshly.

Again he pushes down on your pearl, circling it slowly over the thin cotton of your underwear. The fabric, rough and dragging, scrapes against your bundled nerves sending ripples of electricity shooting through your core. Loki hooks his finger under the soaked scrap tearing it from under you with a growl.

In a rush, the breathe leaves your lungs, cool air coursing over your swollen sex only adding to your arousal. Loki rises up again, crooning, "Look at me, little one. I want you to see."

Your eyes widen in shock as he snaps his fingers and your clothes are just gone. No zippers pulled down, no buttons undone, just disappeared. Instead of crying out, you sigh happily. Your overheated body is finally free of your constraining clothes.

Wriggling into the warmth of the bedclothes, Loki warns, "Lie very still, little one. Don't move." And you couldn't even if you wanted to. His words are steel chains that bind you to his bidding, keeping you soothed and silent, while he slowly sheds his suit.

If you thought Loki was striking in his impeccable clothes, you are gobsmacked by his nude figure. Finely muscled, more than masculine and frightening hard, his body glowed in the radiance of fire light. You sucked in a breath and exhaled with a whimper.

Stroking himself lazily, Loki leans onto the bed, that starving look back on his fine features. "On your knees, little one. It's time to take you." You don't know what he means exactly but your body responds regardless.

Loki massages your skin from the swell of your bottom, over your spine, and across your shoulders. Arching your back into his touch, you mewl, impatient to have more of him. Your hips rock back towards his, straining for the contact that has been promised since you met, when Loki swiftly fists your hair. Pulling your head back sharply he snarls into your ear, "Greedy little slut, aren't you?"

Before you can answer, Loki thrusts into you, fully sheathing himself to the hilt. You scream at the invasion. He's large and forceful, buried cruelly against your cervix, and not withdrawing. No, he pushes in deeper, grinding his pelvis into your buttocks. Loki's hands fan across your hips, sealing you together, preventing you from escaping his punishing thrusts.

"Oh no, little one, you'll take all I have to give and be grateful." Loki barked at you in time with his driving rhythm. His fingers start stroking your clit while Loki continues his assault on your quivering body.

Despite the hard use, your hips begged for more of him. With every forward snap from Loki your internal walls reached out to him. Your core was unwilling to be separated from his cock until ecstasy had been reached. Before long you were riding him, bouncing yourself on his impossibly hard shaft, shouting profanity in fits and starts.

"You think you're going to cum, my little hellion? You believe that this devilish brute will let you take your pleasure so easily?" You whimper pathetically, fearful that you will be denied your elation, worried that Loki has found a fault in you.

"Stop moving." Though it almost kills you, your muscles freeze at Loki's command. Teasing you, "Tell me, little one, who do you serve?"

Willing your whole body to behave, you answer, "You... you, Loki" Loki rewards you by pulling straight down on your overly sensitive nipples. When you cry out he laughs deeply, "That's right. I am your god now, little one, your dark master. And you belong to me. Now do your master's bidding and fuck me like the bitch in heat I know you truly are!"

His words drive your flame of desire into frenzy as you force yourself onto Loki's waiting steel over and over. He doesn't touch you, at least not with his hands, only your carnal flesh connects the pair of you. Mere moments of bucking against Loki have you coming undone. He knows how close you are, ordering you, "Tell everybody who your soul belongs to! Let them hear you in heaven, my wicked woman!"

"LOKI! LOKI! LOKI!" The word loses all meaning as it tumbles, repeatedly, from your blubbering lips like a mantra for your body's rapture. Pleasure courses through you like wild fire, out of control and unpredictable. It bends your back as you howl like an animal unchained.

Your black euphoria is followed by Loki's. He makes sure that your bodies are locked together in a punishing hold. Your forms melt into one as his hot release is spent inside you.

Sagging on sore elbows, no longer able to hold yourself up, you drop down onto the bed. Loki has bottomed out, stuttering after shocks rippling through you both, but he hasn't withdrawn yet. He lies, snuggled in your sinful embrace, enjoying the sight of your corruption splayed in front of him.

"Loki...?" Barely a whisper, it's the most you can manage with your raw throat.

"Yes?" He can't see your face, can't read your expression, but he is curious.

"Why me?"

Pulling out of you with a gush of your shared passion, Loki turns you onto your back, his blue eyes narrow. "Why you? Little one, you called to me. The murky, mucky parts of your soul that never see the light of day... they scream out, Loki! Your deviant, dark spirit, always ignored. Trampled on. No longer. Your savior is here, little one."

Your wet eyes held Loki's gaze, enraptured and enchanted, as he rolled off the bed. Quietly padding around the fire kissed room on his long legs, Loki stopped when he reached a desk hidden in the gloom. Groaning, the drawer he tugged gave way and after a moments rummaging, he strode towards you once more.

"Little one, I told you there was no love here. But there is pleasure... so much pleasure." Opening the black box for you, Loki presents you with choker of black leather, slim and dainty. "There is also pain, little one. Freeing, soaring pain... Now you must choose. Go, take your clothes and return home to your half life of cheap booze and disappointments or... stay and begin life anew at the side of your soul's true master."

Sitting on your hip, nude, lavender bruises painted on your fire kissed skin, Loki saw how beautifully broken you'd become while with him. For a fleeting second he imagined what loving you would be like, giving away his heart and taking yours in return. But the rage inside him would never let that happen. Could never let that happen.

No, to have you as his conquest would be enough. It had to be. But the choice was yours.

Your fingers brushed over the smooth leather of Loki's collar and all that came with its acceptance. The clothes you'd worn all night were in a folded pile, the last connection to your "normal" life. What to do, what to do?

"Loki...?"

"Yes, little one... have you decided already?" Loki tried to hide the expectation in his voice but you hear it. It's enough to make you smile softly.

You nod.

.............

Tagging my first peep! @iamverity, ❤ enjoy!!

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki smut #loki fanfiction #hot loki #mcu x reader #mcu smut #hatterweenfics

[the--sad--hatter]

HATTERWEEN WRITING CHALLENGE!

#Hatterweenfics #Writing challenge #Marvel #Fic challenge #Prompts #You don't have to follow me to submit