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Chapter Text

You startle awake when the house door slams against the frame. Your heart is racing and you're sitting up alone in Loki's guest room, staring into the darkness. You were restless enough the past few nights with all the new noises and smells surrounding you, but now you know you won't go back to sleep.

You set one bare foot onto the cool hardwood floor, then the other. Your heart still races, but you don't hear any more sounds. You know Loki goes out at night to feed sometimes, but he's never expressed an emotion in this manner.

Holding your breath, you tiptoe to your door, pushing it open with your fingertips and peeking into the dark hallway. All is static.

You let the air rush out of you, taking small steps forward. Where could he be?

"Did I wake you?" Loki appears from the shadows at the end of the hallway, his shoulders drawn in and his gaze firm.

You freeze in place, staring at him.

"What happened?" Your voice is breathless, but your heart is racing with happiness that he is back.

He pulls himself straighter and stares at you, nocturnal eyes trying to read you.

"Another vampire is in the area. They come into my territory on occasion to keep me in line."

His tongue flicks over his lips, and with the way he's staring at you, you wonder if he failed to catch any prey.

You clutch the front of your sleep shirt, gathering the nerve to approach him even knowing how hungry he is.

"I take it you don't enjoy it when they do?"

His jaw clenches and his black hair swishes with how firmly he shakes his head.

"They have a problem with my lifestyle," he growls. "My mortal pets. That means you."

You freeze, shifting in place to warm your bare feet a little.

"Why... do they not like us?"

He makes a sound between a scoff and a sigh, dragging his gaze to the side. "Lone vampires are dangerous. Lone vampires who live right among the mortals, keep them as company, are even more dangerous. I was once part of a clan. I still am, as far as they're concerned. Instead of killing me, they feel responsible. A predator is not supposed to like its prey more than its own kind. I am a wolf who prefers a rabbit's company. Who integrates into rabbit society and ignores the rules and traditions of my supposed pack. The only reason they leave me be is because I am not a danger to them. But grow a little too attached to one of those rabbits..."

His red eyes blaze as they fix on you, and your heart leaps as if you really were a frightened bunny.

"They're here for me?" you whisper.

He stalks toward you, and before you can blink he is already in front of you with his hand on your arm.

"You won't leave the house until this is settled, understand?" he growls, and the mark on your arm throbs with his power.

Your tongue is a clumsy thing in your mouth as you try to speak. "But I—I have to go to work!"

His head leans to the side, but his eyes remain firm. "Call in sick. You are my responsibility."

You drag in a breath, trying to process all this.

"What will happen if this vampire finds me?" you whisper. The flutter of your heart tells him you already know the answer.

His hand slides over your neck, into your hair, playing with the strands.

"You'll stay here," he repeats, the red washing out of his eyes. "You've heard the saying that a vampire cannot enter somewhere uninvited? It is true when it is a warded place, such as the den of another, powerful vampire. I've lived here long enough for it to be safe. As long as I do not invite him in, you will be safe here."

You nod and drop your head against his chest, closing your eyes. He runs his fingers over your scalp, cradling you.

"I won't let him kill you," he promises, his voice rumbling under your cheek.

You make a quiet noise in acknowledgement, sliding your hands under his jacket to embrace him. His arm wraps around you, holds you close. He doesn't have a heartbeat. You love the stillness.

"What about your other slaves?" you mumble, breathing in his scent.

He's petting your hair, your back, relaxing your body. "I let them go. He won't go after them."

Your heart flutters again, even though you should feel bad for them. It's just you now.

There's a smile in Loki's voice when he notices your excitement. "You'll stay inside, yes, pet?"

You nod and return the smile. "Will he leave if I hide in here?"

His hand stills in your hair and sudden worry twists your gut. You draw back, tipping your head up to look him in the eyes.

There's a small frown tugging at his lips, his eyes lidded with apology.

"He smelled you on me." His voice is thinner than before. "He knows you live here. He knows how attached I am. He plans to kill you. He gave me a day, to feed and let you go. Take your memories."

Your heart jumps and a hot sweat breaks out all over you.

"He'll kill me after you let me go?" you squeak with a dry mouth. Your head is spinning.

He gives you a small shake of his head. His eyes are even more apologetic.

"No, he'd let you live if I let you go soon." His voice softens until its barely above a whisper. "But I won't."

You try to swallow, and your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth. When he takes your hand, yours is slick with sweat, jittering.

"Wh—Why...?"

A tug, and you're pressed against his chest again. Cool, slender fingers tip your chin up. His lips are so close. If he had a breath, you would feel it.

"Why do you think?" His voice, so light and ethereal.

You try to swallow again, and this time you manage. Your hand hasn't stopped shaking and sweating in his grip.

You know what to say. You know, and yet you keep doubting whether you will ever be able.

"You want me to live here forever?" you whisper, an attempt to soften the impending disruption to your very being.

His green eyes search your face before he answers, as if to check whether you are prepared. "Yes."

You know he won't answer your next question. He knows you're stalling. You could just say it, get it over with. He wants you to. You don't want to give so easily.

"What about if I... die," you slur out like your tongue weighs twice as much as usual. "Naturally. Of old age. What then?"

Would you turn me immortal, is what you're really asking. Or maybe: Your forever or my forever?

His cool hand squeezes your warm one. "Pet." There's benevolent condescension in that tone. "I'll give you a good life. I'll take care of you, in every way. Even when you are old."

And that arrogance, in his eyes. Like, is that not enough of an honor?

You think about it. You truly do, for a moment. His servant, forever. Taken care of. Protected. Is that not what you wanted? This is the most meaningful thing you have ever done. Why would you not say yes? He does care about you, clearly. He wants you. He won't let you go.

You peer into his eyes, trying to see beneath them. Is this pride? Does he not want you leaving because he doesn't want his favorite toy taken away?

"Why are you thinking so long, hm?" he asks, rubbing his thumb over your lips. His fangs peek out from behind his when he gives you a little smile, eyes crinkling.

He does look so beautiful, doesn't he? Your racing heart seems to agree, and you smile yet again just because he did.

The words almost pass your lips, but you stop yourself. He doesn't love you. Not the way you love him, or he would have said it. You can never tell him.

***

The next night, he goes out to hunt again, because he is hungry and you have no blood to spare. You sit by a window in your pyjamas and stare at the near-full moon, tired but unable to sleep.

Does he feel the way you do?

You've claimed that he has a soul, one that might love you back.

You hop off your perch and wander around the living room, shivering in just your sleepwear. Something has to happen. He's locking you away, like a possession. It's suffocating.

You turn to the house door, staring at your faux fur-lined boots. It's not that cold out... You could take a few steps, get some air.

The moon is bright and the air is crisp, and you've missed feeling alive.

Your feet slip into to the warming boots and you unlock the door, dragging it open to let the air in.

It's quiet out, no wind. You inhale to the depths of your lungs, staring upwards. The moon is soft, pale and cold. Like him.

The door clicks shut behind you and you take a few steps, peering onto the street touching his property.

You're alone here, and you feel some of your old confidence returning. You were never afraid of vampires.

Your legs are light as you cross the path onto the sidewalk, looking down the empty street. He won't be back for a while, not if he's feasting. You know how it goes. He probably doesn't need to love you if he can just lock you up and know you will be there when he returns.

Bitter and satisfied with your defiance, your act of free will, you turn around and face the house again, happy to step back inside. You've proven to yourself you are not afraid.

The toe of your boot has just crossed onto the sandy path when your throat constricts and you are yanked backwards by the collar of your sleep shirt.

Gagging, you scramble to free your throat, which leaves the attacker time to wrap an arm around your chest and arms, and cover your mouth with a hand.

You go still, breathing sharply through your nose as you finally process what is happening.

"Be very still or this will hurt," a voice comes from above you. A male voice, giving melodic inflections to this threat. Carefree, powerful, unafraid.

Your heart is in your throat and you scream as you launch yourself forward, attempting to shake his grip. You might as well be shoving at a steel bar.

"Didn't your master warn you about me?" he asks, still in a singsong voice.

He did. Loki warned you of this very vampire, and yet you stepped one foot out of his property. Why had you done that again? Your dizzy mind can no longer rationalize it.

You struggle again, weakening when he doesn't budge. You know how strong vampires are. He doesn't care.

"Stop your squirming and come with me," the vampire coaxes, starting to walk backwards and drag you with him.

You stumble, then let yourself go limp, then stumble with him again. Your body weight is nothing to him, his grip never loosening.

The cold hand across your mouth his suffocating, clamping your jaw shut. You wish Loki was here. You wish you had stayed on the property. You wish you hadn't been upset enough to go outside at all.

The moon is swallowed by dark walls, a narrow alleyway you remember being a street away. He's fast, just like Loki. You feel sick from the sudden movement, trying to scramble free again.

With a shove, your back hits the rough wall and the vampire looms above you, his hands pinning down your upper arms.

You choke on your breaths, legs starting to feel like jelly.

He's older than Loki, if you can say it like that. At least, he was older when he was turned. You can barely make him out in the dark alley, but his silver-streaked hair is easier to see.

He smiles and his fangs catch your eye, already out and ready to eat.

"D-don't kill me!" you gasp. "I can give you information! On... On his other slaves!"

The vampire smiles, no surprise at all on his face.

"Go on," he beckons, still looming over you, still ready to bite.

"I'm his favorite," you ramble, forcing smugness into your tone. "He doesn't care at all about the other. I live with him, and he'd do anything I say. I'm not his slave. He is mine."

Your teeth clench when the grip on your biceps tightens, realizing you have to hurry before he kills you out of pure anger.

"But there's one secret I bet you don't know about him," you brag, then pause for effect. You hear the softest growl coming from his throat. "He is in love with me."

The instant you say that, you bring your hands together and slash your nails across the brand on your wrist, then dig them in deep. Blood wells up from thin scratches and it throbs, pain racing up your arm. Destroying the brand is both forbidden and impossible. You know about the latter, because you once splashed hot water on your wrist by accident and the skin over the mark healed within minutes. You'd assumed it was to prevent you or someone else from digging a knife into your skin and removing the mark. It is more powerful than just a physical tattoo.

Loki had known, too. He'd asked you why someone had tried to damage his brand, upset until you'd laughed and told him you'd just been making tea. He'd smiled, then, rubbing his thumb over your wrist possessively.

You scream and then choke when the vampire wrenches your wrist away and presses against your throat with his other hand.

"You think he'll save you?" he hisses, shaking you, hitting your head against the wall.

Tears stream down your face and you're struggling just to breathe.

"I'll snap your neck before he gets you!" All melodic quality has left his voice, red eyes blazing up in the darkness with fury and spite. Your vision dims and dims as his hand tightens, throttling you, his other hand letting yours go to grab your head. He's going to break your neck with sheer force.

You slam your branded wrist against the wall as soon as it's free, rough bricks deepening the scratches, dirt getting in your wounds. Loki, please.

You fall to the ground with a sob, the pressure in your head making everything hurt. Your ears ring, and you vaguely register that you scraped your hands and knees, small stones poking you. You retch and your chest heaves, stomach acid dribbling from your lips.

Before you can begin to understand what his happening, your head is puller back and something is pressed over your mouth. Hot liquid pours inside, disgusting, metallic liquid, and then your nose is pinched shut and you cry as you swallow and swallow it all just to breathe.

After a moment, all goes still in your brain. Then you can hear again. A single car three streets over. A TV playing behind shut windows. The faintest breeze dragging a paper napkin down the alley.

You blink, startled. Your nose is let go and you recognize the taste in your mouth. Blood. And then... the smell. Loki!

You stare up at him, see his blood-covered wrist. You can make out every detail, his face, his clothes, even in the dark.

You lean forward and lick the two rivulets of blood from his skin, the wounds already closed. It doesn't taste so disgusting anymore.

There's a scuffling noise, and you turn to see the other vampire getting off the ground. You can see him clearly now, too. His is indeed older, more lines on his face. He possesses that same otherworldly beauty that every vampire does, but Loki is still special.

You admire your attacker's appearance, appreciating the strong angles, the broad shoulders. His face is twisted in anger.

"If you turned her, I will kill you, too!" he shouts at Loki. "You know the rules! How could you possibly wish to spite me this badly? This creature is not worth all this! Don't take me for a fool. I know this is revenge for what I did to—"

Loki snarls and steps in front of you, blocking your view.

"You best hope you did not kill her," he breathes, his voice still perfectly audible to you.

The other vampire scoffs. "And you best hope I did. You know what happens if she is still alive and drinks your blood."

Loki snarls again, balling his fists. "What matters is that you cannot kill her now, or she will turn. Leave, before I end you."

The other vampire laughs, long and hard, and you swear you can hear it vibrating in your chest.

You look down at your hands, and realize they look completely unharmed. Then you check your wrist, your throat, all signs of damage gone. Did... Did the blood do this?

You get to your feet, swaying for a moment and then giggling, a bright sound that echoes through the alley. Both vampires turn to look at you.

Loki rushes over, puts his fingers on your neck to feel your pulse. You wonder, for a moment, if you really are dead. Then you feel it. Your heart, pumping steadily in your chest, blood pulsing under the pressure of his fingers.

You laugh, embrace him. He stiffens.

You're alive. And you feel... So good.

"Good luck," the other vampire taunts, the melodic inflections back in his voice.

Loki growls, then hugs you back. His grip is tight. He must have been afraid.

You grin against his chest, energy buzzing through your every limb, filling you with joy.

"You think her worth all this?" the vampire asks. "I'd say it was love, but you're not capable of that."

Loki lets you go to face him again, tension in every part of his body.

"Leave," he demands.

"Or what?" the other vampire asks, sauntering closer. "You'll fight me?"

Loki tries to block his path, but the vampire evades him and grips your chin. You're not afraid, staring him square in those red eyes.

"You wanna come with me instead, pet?" he purrs, and the words knock every rational thought from your mind.

You remember that feeling of the vampiric trance. It's different now, with Loki's tainted blood inside you. There is no fear to be conquered.

"Stop this," Loki hisses, trying to pull the other vampire away by grabbing his shoulder.

"She'll be so much trouble in a few hours," he replies, eyes burning into yours. "Let me take her off your hands."

"So you can kill her once it is safe to do so?" Loki spits. "I shall kill you first."

"You can try," the vampire taunts, shrugging Loki off with ease. "Now, little mouse, why don't you give into your desires and be with a real vampire master instead?"

His thumb brushes your lips and you gasp, the words compelling you to wrap your lips around it and suck at the very tip while still staring into his eyes. You want to grab him and press yourself against that muscular body—

You are yanked from his grip and pulled further into the alley, Loki's face in front of yours now.

"Break out of it," he orders, compulsion in his desperate words.

You blink at him, two vampires' orders conflicting in your mind.

His hand wraps around your wrist, squeezing at his mark. You gasp, regaining awareness as it throbs and aches under his touch.

"Loki...?" you whisper, starting to recognize your own master again.

"Listen to me, pet," he urges. "You—"

"You are weak," the other vampire calls over. "Tragic, truly, that you will have to watch your beloved toy succumb to my thrall. Look at me."

Those last words are directed at you, and your head whips toward him faster than you can keep up with. The compulsion from him is so much stronger than anything you've experienced with Loki.

"Tell your master you do not want him," he taunts, grinning at you.

"I don't want you, master," you whisper.

Loki is still holding you, standing very stiff.

"Shall I make her pleasure you?" the other vampire asks him, standing right by you now. "You know your influence is no match for mine. As long as she is with you, she will never be safe. You will need to keep her locked away with you. But perhaps you'd enjoy that, hm? If only you hadn't fed her your blood. Now what will happen? Are you truly prepared? You've heard the stories. You'll have to kill her yourself soon, unless you want her to suffer. Would it not be merciful to end her now? We can make it nice for her. She loves you, I believe. Look how happy she is. I'll let you two say goodbye to each other, and then you can go. I'll take care of it for you. Let me help you, Loki."

Loki is staring at you with a look you can't quite place. You do feel happy, perfectly relaxed.

"You've done this before," the other vampire continues, voice softer. "Losing your pets is never nice, but you know how dangerous attachment is for us. You're strong, Loki. I know that. You've done it many times before, willingly. What happened, hm? What's so different, this time?"

Loki shakes his head, face twisting. "I cannot."

The vampire lays a hand on his arm, gently prying him away from you. "Let me do it. You can go, Loki. Say goodbye, or don't. I'll kill her mortal body and then her immortal one before she knows what is happening. If you let me take her with me, I can stop her from turning. It'll be painless. You know how much worse it will be once her high has worn off. At least now she's happy."

Loki takes a step away from you, grimaces, then begins to cry. Silvery tears stream down his cheeks as he stares at you.

"Pet," he whispers, voice breaking. "You might not hear this, but... I have one last thing to tell you."

The other vampire smiles, stepping back to give you space.

Loki approaches you again, staring deep into your eyes. He bends down and presses his lips to yours, to your cheek, along your jaw. When they are right by your ear, clawed fingers pierce into your brand and in the very first moment of clarity you experience, he growls an order into your ear with every bit of his power in that one word.

"Run."

Your brain explodes with activity as every area of it responsible for running lights up at once. The split second it takes for you to get your legs moving is the split second it takes for Loki to lunge at the other vampire, the sound of claws w through immortal flesh following you out of the alley.

Houses and streetlights blur around you as you sprint faster than you have ever run. He gave you no destination, and your own thoughts return bit by bit with every step you run. You manage to find the direction to his house, manage to gain enough clarity to realize you must go there and not stop until you are well on his property.

No vampire follows you. You wonder if Loki is truly fighting him to the death.

You smack against the front door, barely slowing down enough to break the impact, then collapse on the steps. Everything still feels so vivid. Every color is bright even in the dark, every detail on the moon crisp and clear. You hear sounds from the tiniest motions, even far away. The only thing you can't hear, is Loki. There is no sign of a fight, no matter how hard you strain your ears.

You sit there, on the front steps, catching your breath and waiting. All is quiet.

***

"Hey, are you okay?"

You groan, and then you cry out in pain. Your stomach twists like you gorged yourself on spoiled seafood, and your head feels like it's been flattened by a steamroller.

You can barely make out where you are, but you know it is very bright.

Sitting up, there is an ache in every one of your limbs, and you really need to pee. You squint ahead of you, at the sound the voice came from.

There's a concerned passerby on the sidewalk, and you realize you passed out on Loki's front steps. Shit.

"Ah, y-yes, just hungover!" you lie, and after a disapproving look from the passerby, they are moving on.

You scramble to your feet, immediately swaying and then throwing up in the bushes. You wince. Loki liked those plants.

Loki.

You whip your head skywards, realizing it's probably late morning. No. Where is he?

You shove the front door open, running inside. "Loki?!"

Vertigo hits you after only a few steps, making you collapse on the couch. You don't feel so good. In fact, you can't remember ever feeling this sick.

A sweat has broken out all over you, your limbs aching and nausea simmering just below. You're out of breath after a few steps. What is happening?

You remember drinking something... Poison. No, blood. You drank Loki's blood, and the other vampire said something about...

You can't remember.

Your weak body lays flat on the couch and consciousness slips away for a moment. You are woken by shivers, pain throughout all your limbs. You need help... But Loki...

Your eyes drag to the window. The curtains are still open from when you stared at the moon, and now sunlight is glaring in. He isn't home. He isn't home and it's day.

You pass in and out of consciousness, never sleeping long or deep. It hurts, it burns, your throat is dry. You crawl to the bathroom, drink from the faucet, but don't manage anything much beyond that.

Back on the couch, you watch the sun move across the sky. Just as it sets, you drift asleep properly, so exhausted that even the pain doesn't keep you awake.

***

It's cold when you wake next. You shiver, but find yourself soothed. You're no longer hurting. The relief is endless bliss.

When you blink your eyes open, it's almost pitch black. There's a dim light bulb hanging above your head, orange light flickering on occasion. The air is damp and musty.

Jerking upright, you look around to confirm the fact that you are underground, inside a basement. You don't recognize this place, and panic fills you. Before you can jump to your feet, a familiar scent hits you. Loki.

Beside you, still as a corpse, is your vampire master. His eyes are closed, no part of him moving. For a moment, you're terrified that he's dead. Then you realize how stupid you are, because of course he's dead.

You crawl over to him, startled when you realize the floor here is made of dirt. Not that it matters.

You touch him, his cold skin. Something stick up from his hand, and you pull a piece of paper out.

Stay. Safe.

Two words, nothing else. Stay safe?

You lower the paper and look around. There is a wooden cabinet against one wall, and the basement door against the other. Is it locked?

You stand on shaky legs and approach the door, trying the handle. It opens. You peer up, a wooden staircase leading to another door. Something about it feels familiar... Yes, the wood is the same color as all the other wood in Loki's house. Is this his basement?

You look back at him, then decide to shut the door and sit down beside him again. You look at the paper once more.

Stay. Safe. Not stay safe. Does it mean "Stay here. You are safe?"

You gaze at Loki, wondering why you felt so sick and why you don't, currently. Is it nighttime? It has to be. Or perhaps it's morning again, because he's resting. Either way, he came back. He came and took you to his basement and scrawled out a note and left the light on for you and asked you to stay.

You don't feel hungry, but you do feel weak. You suppose you could rest a bit.

You lay down right beside him, your head on his unmoving chest. Your pyjamas are filthy now, but you don't care.

You drift off to sleep easily, enveloped by his scent.

Chapter Text

Strong arms jostle you awake. You blink, and green eyes peer back at you.

"You're here," he whispers.

"I am," you croak, and realize the pain is back.

"Shh, hold on," he soothes you, slicing his wrist open with a fang and dripping three drops of his blood into your mouth before licking the wound shut again.

You swallow, wondering what the hell is going on.

"I'm sorry," he says, watching you as the pain fades and you start to feel good again.

Your heart is racing from the hit of his blood to your system. What is going on?

"Don't worry," he says, but his expression is concerned.

"What... What is—" You try to sit up, but he pushes you back down where he's cradling you in his arms.

"You'll never leave me, understand?" he whispers.

You blink, and he continues.

"He won't take you from me. None of them will. I... I had to stay out, I'm sorry. The sun came up and I was weak after... our fight. I found a place to hide. I came back as soon as it was safe. You were on the couch, shaking and feverish. I gave you more of my blood, brought you here so we could both recover. I'm still weak, I'm afraid. But I have blood reserves here. I'll be alright, soon. You... You aren't going to like this, but... You have to stay with me now."

You stare at him. "Why?"

He doesn't look remorseful at all about that fact. "I fed you my blood. If he'd killed you, you would have turned. You would have come back. But you were still alive, and so it... It gave you a rush. It is like a poison, a drug. You were safe from him, but now your body is poisoned by me. You cannot go on, now, without getting more of it. But if I give you too much, you will go insane. Have you seen drug addicts? Patients with chronic pain, needing morphine just to live? That is you now. In a way."

You gape at him.

"It... It's alright, pet," he assures you. "Those people manage it. You can have your life back. I... I will help you. You are not truly dependent on my blood. You will not die from lack of it. But you will suffer. You will never be the same. I'm s-so sorry."

Tears well up in your eyes, hearing that. He looks guiltier than you have ever seen him.

"I don't want to be in pain for the rest of my life," you whisper.

He gives you a sorrowful smile. "Then you need to keep drinking it. Think of it as though... you're a living vampire, now. You need my dark power inside you, but you are still human. You can still eat, drink, go out into the sun. Your body is alive, but my blood has cursed you. If you want to be free of pain, you will have to stay with me forever, and drink of me just like I drink of you."

Your heart hammers in your chest, and suddenly you feel small.

"W-would you do that for me?" you whisper, staring up at him. "Would you... feed me for the rest of my life so I don't have to feel pain?"

He smiles, still so sad. "Pet... I would do anything for you."

The confession knocks the breath from you. "Loki," you whimper.

He gazes down at you, and you can see the tiredness now. "Pet."

"Do you love me?" It's the question you've been terrified to ask.

He doesn't move for a second, and then you find yourself on your back, lips devouring your and a strong body caging you in.

"Yes," he hisses, and the elation that rushes through you has you crying tears of joy. "Yes, I love you. I didn't think you would believe me, but I do, I promise. I might not have a soul, but I love you, my human."

You could scream with joy. Everything is alright. Everything you were worried about is gone.

"I love you, too," you sob, wrapping him in your arms. "I love you so much, Loki, my vampire."

He smiles, and you see genuine joy in his gaze.

"You do have a soul," you whisper. "I know you do. Or else you wouldn't be doing this. You still know what it's like to be human; I firmly believe that."

His gaze is warm, and he tugs at your pyjama pants.

"Make love with me," he whispers. "I want to be with you, more than I have ever wanted anyone. Those vampires are still out there, but you are mine now. I will feed you my blood and you will be immortal. You realize that, right, pet? If you die, for any reason at all, you will be like me. It is a curse, my blood is a curse, but you will live forever if you want to. Only if you grow old, and you choose to die naturally, will I stop feeding you and let you pass. But until then, you are mine, and you are immortal."

You choke on your emotions, stroking his cheeks and his hair.

"I love you," you say again.

He smiles as if he were hearing it for the first time. "I adore you, mortal. You are right. I do remember what it is like to be human. And I love you. Like a vampire, and like a human. I love you very much. I... I almost lost you."

Sorrow fills his gaze again, and you pet him reassuringly.

His gaze darkens. "You let yourself be enthralled by him," he growls. "You licked his thumb and stared at him as though you were ready to jump on his cock. I thought I told you that you are mine."

You give Loki a playfully guilty look.

"Was that bad of me?" you pout. "Let me… Let me make it up to you, master."

If you'd been in your right mind, you would have been disgusted by the vampire who'd wanted to kill you. But for the sake of closure, you gladly play along, as if you'd only flirted with a stranger at a bar to make Loki jealous.

He attempts to look angry, but the lust and affection in his eyes overpowers that. "You'd better, little girl. I will not let you leave the house in the foreseeable future until the knowledge that you belong to me has properly settled in your head."

You smile, finally scrambling out of his arms. "Let's go upstairs, then! I'd rather not get any basement dirt in my mouth when I suck you dry."

The look he gives you is hungry, but he remains on the floor. "I am still weak, my pet, and I need to remain far away from the sun for a while."

You pout again. "Drink more blood, then!"

He licks his lips before scowling. "I cannot. Those blood reserves are carefully rationed. If I overindulge, you know what will happen."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, you turn into a feral beast for a while before falling into a state I can only describe as... high. Like a cat. Like a cat on catnip."

The glare he gives you is well worth it. You've made it a point to tell him how catlike he is sometimes, and he absolutely hates it because you're so right.

"Guess I'll... Go upstairs alone then," you tease, but instead saunter over to the cabinet. You yank it open, raising an eyebrow at the fact that it's actually a refrigerator on the inside. Of course he's too classy to have a basement drink fridge, even though that's exactly what this is.

You pluck out a blood bag, shutting the door again and holding it up to him.

"Put that back," he orders, standing up with careful movements.

These blood bags have a screw-on top like they're juice pouches, and you deftly screw it open and spill a few drops onto your hand. "Oops."

His eyes pulse between green and red as he sneers at you, trying so hard to control himself.

You lick the drops away, grimacing at the taste. You really don't like blood, and you realize you probably shouldn't be licking this. Oh well.

You close the bag again, then shuck your sleep shirt off so your chest is bare to him. You are delighted when his gaze lands on your breasts. Smiling, you open the bag once more and drizzle a rivulet of blood right over both of them.

The look he gives you is one of utter disbelief, and then the smell hits him and his pupils blow wide at the same moment his eyes turn red.

You are knocked backwards against the wall, more blood splashing onto your chest and you scream as his tongue attacks your sensitive skin. He's snarling, growling and slurping as he licks the blood from chest. His fangs are out, scratching you, dragging over soft skin and catching on your nipples.

You barely hold the bag upright as his mouth assaults you, sucking so hard bruises form, and then he's on your nipples and he really goes for it, nipping and licking and sucking at them.

You are breathless with arousal, amazed at his speed, his dexterity, his hunger. He cleans your skin and then he is on his knees to catch the last drips on your belly, setting every nerve on fire with his tongue. Your skin is warming the cold blood for him, his lips pressing kisses to you in eagerness.

Your pants and underwear are yanked down, then ripped off your legs by his strong hands, and then he just sits and stares up at you. It takes you a moment to process why he stopped licking at you.

He cleaned away all the blood, took your pants off, and now he's waiting. You glance at the blood bag, then the part of your body he is level with. Surely you can't just....

You squirt some of the blood onto your belly, watch it run down, right between your legs, and then a deft tongue licks a stripe right over your clit and catches it.

You moan, legs shaking in his grasp.

"Ah—Is... Is this sanitary?" you ask, even knowing very well that it isn't.

"Do it," Loki hisses, hungry and impatient. "Your body cannot become infected while my blood courses through your system."

You raise your eyebrows. "Really? So no viruses, no UTIs, no bacteria—"

"They'll be killed," he confirms, practically drooling with impatience now.

You sigh. "Fine." And dump a whole stream of blood over your belly and thighs, the cold liquid making you hiss as it reaches your sensitive spots.

He looks like he's in heaven. You scream when his tongue attacks you, scream when he bites your thigh just to mark you, scream when he sucks so hard on your clit you orgasm instantly, grabbing into his hair and falling into his grip as your legs buckle.

He keeps going, keeps fucking you with a blood-stained tongue, keeps drinking from you. The blood bag splashes in your grip, getting all over him, all over you, and he tears his own clothes off so it runs over his bare skin.

The dirt of the basement floor sticks to the blood, sticks to you and him, but it doesn't matter. He's tackled you to the floor and he's licking every bit of you clean, and you dump more on your cunt and nipples and even into your own mouth so he'll kiss you. You've never experienced something so gruesome and erotic alike.

When the bag is almost empty, you shove him down and fill his mouth with the rest, then sit down on his face and watch him eagerly swallow the blood and your slick arousal. You ride his tongue until you cum twice, and only then do you let him go. He licks the last drops from your cunt, and by then you are both covered in dirt.

"Bath," you pant, and he nods frantically.

He heaves you up and carries you naked upstairs, hissing when he realizes it is still day out. The blackout curtains are drawn in every room but the living room, and he swiftly avoids that as he brings you to the bathroom.

He shuts the door and runs a bath, selecting soaps and products while you wait on a stool.

"I wanna suck you," you say, eyeing his throbbing, blood-filled cock.

"You will," he growls. "In fact, you will have to do a lot of sucking from now on to make up for your recklessness."

You gulp, feeling actually scolded. But the thought of having his cock in your mouth more is never an unpleasant thought.

"If you so much as look at another man this next week," he continues, using a thermometer to test the water temperature, "I will tie you down and edge you so long that you forget how to speak."

You gulp. "And if I suck your cock like a good girl and look only at you?"

He makes a sound you've never heard before and sets the thermometer down on the side of the tub with a clack. It's so sweet when he threatens you while at the same time measuring the water so it's absolutely perfect for you. You can't believe you got so lucky.

"Darling, then you will cum as often as your frail little body can bear," he rasps, turning to look at you.

"Great!" you exclaim and hop over to the tub, stepping inside. Warm water envelops you, washing sweat and blood and dirt away. You sigh in ecstasy, stretching out until he steps in, too, and you have to make room.

He grabs a sponge and soaps it up, rubbing gentle circles over your skin without prompting. You close your eyes and relax, not a single worry in your mind.

Slender fingers wash your hair in just the right way, your face, your body until he's tended to every part of you. You're boneless at that point, but you pry your eyes open and grab another sponge to do the same for him.

The water is filthy, and he drains the tub to pull you into the shower. The both of you stand in each other's arms while you rinse off. For minutes, all you do is kiss as the water rains down on you.

His kisses say all that he couldn't put into words. How angry and scared he was. How sick he felt when he saw the vampire's power over you. How he sliced open his wrist to save you. To form a bond with you that can't be broken. How awful the taunts of the other vampire stung, how dire the situation was. How he made the choice to save you, to tell you "run." The fight he had, to give you time. How the sun came up, how he crawled into a dark corner and passed out as he healed. How he returned home, how he found you feverish and sick, how he brought you to the basement and drank down a ration as he held you.

You return all his kisses, and then you sink down to your knees and lick at him the way he licked at you. Hungry, hurt, in love.

His mouth falls open and his fingers claw into your wet hair. He's hot and silky in your mouth and you push him all the way in, breathing through your nose as you swallow around him. You bob up and down, cradling his balls with your hand.

He leans back against the tiled wall, giving you control as you suck him.

Water runs down your face and you keep your eyes closed, reaching blindly to grab his hip. Instead, his own hand finds yours, and he holds it tight as you pleasure him.

It's perhaps the most emotional blowjob you have ever given anyone, holding onto his hand and remembering everything that happened. When you start crying, hiccupping around him, he tries to pull you off, but you only take him deeper.

You choke and sob and you know he can't go soft with all the blood inside him, so you allow yourself this little breakdown.

Loki seems torn between the pleasure and the clear distress you are in, but with enough persistence, you finally get him to cum.

He grunts and his hips jerk, a hiss leaving him as he finally spills himself down your throat. You swallow and swallow and keep sucking at him until he makes a pained sound and finally gets you off him.

"Are you alright?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm very happy," you choke out, but he looks like he doesn't believe you.

You get up and turn the shower off, staring into his red eyes. "Bedroom?" you breathe, and he nods.

After a quick drying, he sweeps you up and carries you to his bed.

"Can I sleep in here now?" you whisper, suddenly intimidated.

He stands over you, expressionless, and then he nods.

You swing yourself out of bed, dragging your nails down his chest. "Claim me, then."

His eyes are fixed on yours and he holds very still.

"Please," you beg. "I need to know how badly you want me. I need to know if you'd let another man take me, or if—"

"Down," he snarls, fangs bared. "Down on your knees, pet, and you'll do as I say."

Smiling, you drop down, placing your hands on his thighs. "May I—"

"No," he cuts you off, grabbing your hair and prying your mouth open. "Be quiet as I take you. You belong to me, you're mine, and that will never change."

You stick your tongue out and his silky cock slides across it, right to the back of your mouth. You gag and he shoves in further, making you take all of him. You've never quite had your throat fucked like this, but for some reason, he makes it feel good. He holds you at just the right angle, times his thrusts with your breaths and swallows, slides all the way down your throat and then back up. You gag and splutter and drool but it all works so well. Never have you felt more controlled. More owned.

"I want to collar you," he hisses, just as his cock jerks and you wonder if he will cum.

He withdraws, leaving you gasping and empty.

His cabinet of toys fulfills his wish and he comes back with a black leather collar, padded on the inside. It slips around your neck and then he yanks you forward, pressing his cock back into your mouth.

"How long can you hold your breath?" he wonders, thrusting shallowly back and forth. You make a noise, but it is incomprehensible, and all he does is hiss and buck forward.

"Let's find out," he speaks between gritted teeth, and then he pulls you all the way down his cock and pinches your nose shut.

You jerk, choking for breath, but he keeps your head still so you don't hurt yourself. All that happens is that your throat contracts around him, making him groan.

He pulls back and lets your nose go, staring down at you.

"Five seconds. Now breathe."

You heave on air, trying to calm down as fast as possible so you can do it again. Your thighs are getting sticky with arousal.

"Deep breath," he instructs and you comply. Then you're sliding down and your nose is held shut, blood rushing in your ears as all that you can feel is his length throbbing in your throat. He rocks back and forth, just a little, and after several more seconds, withdraws.

"Think you can last long enough for me to cum?" he asks, undisturbed by your coughs.

You're dying for breath, but you nod frantically.

"Good, then. Take a moment, and I'll fuck your throat while you hold your breath. I won't close your nose, so if you must breathe, you can. I want you aware of nothing but my cock, allowing me to use you at the cost of your breath. Think of it this way: if you die choking on me, you'll be my little vampire slut for all eternity."

Your cheeks flush and you suddenly find becoming a vampire just a little appealing.

"Don't even think about it, little cock-drunk whore," he snorts, and then he's gripping your head again.

You open your mouth and relax your throat, feeling him rest on your tongue.

"Breathe in."

You do, and then you hold it, and he slides down your throat. He fucks you in quick, sharp jerks, concentrating hard to cum before you run out of breath.

You hold still, not breathing, waiting for your master to find his release.

The look on his face when he does is better than anything you've ever seen. Your angle of vision is awkward, but you can see the snarl that bares his fangs as his cock jerks and pulses in your throat. He cums and groans in pleasure, spilling down your throat until every drop is gone. Only when he relaxes and pulls back do you breathe again.

"Whore," he says, and you laugh, wheezing for air.

"That was good," he praises. "My dirty little girl. Now get on all fours."

You drop forward, then shuffle around until your ass is toward him. In a deliberate move, you arch your back and part your legs one by one until he has full view of just how wet you are. The snarl you hear forces you to smile.

"So wet," he hisses. "I was going to get lubricant, but I don't think I shall need it."

You go still. Why would he—

"Mm, that's right," he purrs, kneeling down behind you. "I'll take your every hole, my lovely slave. It is about time."

You choke on a breath, trembling at the thought.

"Just a few fingers for now, my girl," he soothes you, petting your hair as he positions you how he likes. "You'll take my cock in your ass when you are ready. But you shall take it in your cunt now. Who knows, maybe our love for each other shall have a baby growing inside you soon enough."

You know it's meant to be a joke, but you can't help it. The thought... of having a child with him, now that you know he loves you...

"Calm yourself," he taunts, shoving your shoulders to the floor. "Now be good and let me claim you. You are mine, you will always be mine, and if you think you'll ever feel this good with another man, you are lying to yourself."

Fingers slip inside you. Long, dexterous, three of them. He rubs your g-spot and thrusts them to the very back, wet noises making you flush.

"Ah!" you cry out, trying to buck back toward him.

"Slut," he comments, stubbornly avoiding your clit.

"Please!" you gasp, legs shaking as his fingers thrust and thrust and drag along your g-spot. "God, Loki, please!"

"There is no god here," he hisses, assaulting you with more pleasure than you can bear. "Fuck, you are wet."

That realization seems to do it for him. He yanks his fingers out, growling desperately. You know he loves licking you, but he needs the lubrication for something else.

Gently, he rubs his slick fingers over your other hole, pressing at it. You squeal at the new sensation, quivering beneath him until he starts petting your back and making you relax.

"Just relax and let me in," he coaxes, pushing in as much as he can with the tip of one finger.

You whimper, overwhelmed as new nerves are stimulated. "Please—!"

"Shh," he soothes, rocking his finger back and forth before slipping it in a little more. "If you're good, you'll have my cock in your cunt, soon. Think of how good that'll feel. Just one finger for now, alright? I promise you will like it."

You wheeze and relax for him, his other hand sliding over your cunt to gather more slick. Then he pushes his finger all the way into you, your tight new passage clenching around him.  "God...!"

"That's it," he praises, wiggling it a bit until you go delirious with sensation. "You've earned my cock now."

You could sob with relief when the thick, hard length finally pierces your cunt and settles right up against your womb, his other hand held flat over your clit.

"You've never been so full before, have you?" he asks, dragging his finger back and forth.

"Mm—no," you mumble, fingers clenching and toes curling.

"Your body is mine." He starts to thrust, his cock sliding through your slick passage and hitting all the spots you need it to. You gasp and thrust back, desperate to for any sort of release. Your clit slides along the fingers of his other hand, making you cry out and move harder.

He draws in a long hiss, then, without warning, presses a second finger into your ass and snaps his hips forward.

You scream, whole body trembling beneath him. It feels so good. The added fullness has you snug around his cock, feeling it so much more intensely.

"L-Loki," you stammer, sparks of pleasure leaving you a helpless mess.

He gives off a low growl and starts fucking you in earnest, dragging his fingers back and forth whenever he has the option.

"Mine," he hisses. "I'm going to... make you mine."

"I'm... Ngh... Already yours!" you pant, grinding yourself back against him. You're so full, your clit dragging against his hand.

"Not fully," he argues. "Not until I've bred you."

He rocks in deep, stroking your delicate wall with his fingers and feeling his own cock beneath it. You choke on a scream.

"Yes, please, breed me!" you cry, and you've never wanted anything more. You wish he could get you pregnant. You wish you could just be with him, forever, just you and him and your children.

"Loki, I love you," you sob, and he folds himself over you and grunts into your ear as he snaps his hips.

"I love you, too," he hisses. "Little whore. My darling. Take it. Take all of me, my slave. I'm going to get you with child. I'll find a way to fill your womb. To make you swell with it. I'll... I'll do it. I've cursed you, I'll curse our children. We'll survive. We'll protect them. If they eat blood, so be it. I'll love them as much as I love you. I'll feed them just like I feed you."

With a particularly violent thrust forward, you are screaming and orgasming around him, shaking and clenching so hard he cries out.

Your nails dig into the floor, hands scrambling for purchase. You can feel his thick, long cock right up against your womb, his fingers in your ass, his others on your clit. You want this. You want him; you want his children.

"Please!" you sob, scrabbling at the floor as he fucks you so hard you jolt forward. "Please, get me pregnant! I love you!"

He moans out, shuddering, and then his hips snap forward and he's cumming.

"Baby," he chokes out, grabbing at you as he fucks you hard and pumps you full of his vampiric seed. "Darling, ah—I—Hngh..."

He's shaking, thrusting forward as he fills your womb. Your mouth hangs open, feeling him pulse and throb.

"I love you so much," he slurs just as he finishes, gently working his fingers out of you and then draping himself on top of you.

"Stay here," he whispers. "I'll be back to clean you. But keep my cum inside you."

You whimper and nod, shivering when he pulls out and a rush of his seed drips down your thighs. He leaves, and you hear water running as he cleans himself, before coming back with a warm washcloth.

You moan when he wipes you clean, but the cum that escaped is pushed right back inside you with his fingers.

"Shhh," he soothes, then lifts you up and brings you into bed with him.

His eyes are still red, pupils dilated with all the blood inside him. He licks his lips as he gazes at your naked body. You must be covered in bruises from when he sucked the blood off you, and now in his cum as well.

You stare back at him, your cunt throbbing again under his gaze.

"You called me baby as you came," you remark, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes flick to yours, and he shifts closer.

"Does it surprise you?" he asks back. "I cherish you beyond anything. I love you, want to protect you, take care of you."

You chuckle and sit up, going into his arms. "Are we going to be that cheesy couple that calls each other babe and baby in every sentence?"

He catches your lips, undisturbed by your teasing. "You're too much of a brat for that, love."

You flush, but smile against him.

"Might have to discipline me, then," you tease, stroking over his chest.

"Oh, I will," he growls, his blood-engorged cock already twitching again. "Lay down. I'm going to leave my cock inside you while you rest."

You whimper, shuffling down the bed until you're laying down, and he takes you in his arms and presses inside you from behind.

Your eyes roll back as he fills you, but no matter how much your cunt flutters and clenches, the only motions he makes are minor adjustments.

"Sleep now, love," he orders. "I'll wake you when it is time to drink more of my blood."

You ball your fists, desperate to be fucked again, but you really do need the rest.

After several breathless minutes of feeling his cock throb steadily inside you, you finally drift off against your vampire lover.

When you wake, his hips are rocking into you, fucking you in lazy thrusts.

You moan out to him, and he presses his wrist to your mouth, a light trickle of blood already present.

You suck up the drops of dark poison, his hips snapping harder against you. Your senses sharpen within seconds, and every drag of his cock is raw and intense. When he pulls his wrist away, he rubs your clit until you cum, and then his fangs sink into your shoulder and he spills himself.

You scream, clawing at his arm as you orgasm again. He fucks every drop into you, snarling as his fangs remain in your flesh. Tears stream down your cheeks until he licks the wound shut and soothes the pain, not drinking more than a drop from you.

You turn around as soon as he pulls out, not caring that all his cum gushes out. You fling yourself against his chest, hugging him tight. He embraces you back, shushing you as you calm down.

"You really want children with me?" you whisper.

"I... I don't know if it will happen, but..." He goes silent for a moment, and your heart races in anticipation. "I... I love you, I think, more than I have ever loved anyone, and I have loved a lot. I love all of you, and I want you forever. I want a part of you, in a child, and I want to love that child together with you. Yes... Yes, I..."

He stares at you, eyes green and wet with emotion. "I am ready to start trying in earnest."