#vampire!loki

♱⃓

Your sister was the first to go.

It happened gradually, so gradually that it took you so much longer than the rest to realize something was wrong. By the time you did, she was already at death’s door, and your mother was sitting you down to have a conversation about preparing for the worst. It was a conversation that you would remember for years to come and even as it was being had, you were deep in denial.

Your sister had always been healthy—much healthier than you—and the bout of illness seemed to have come out of thin air. One morning she was all smiles at the breakfast table, cherubic and perfect and bothering your father with silly jests as she always did, and then the next morning she did not even have the strength to get out of bed. You thought nothing of it.

A simple cold.

“I am having some tea put on for your sister,” your mother had said.

You had only hummed in response then, nothing about the statement causing alarm. A book was in your hand as you glided outside to read under a tree. You recalled the stray thought of wishing healing on your sister, but nothing beyond that. It saddened you now to think about your lack of concern at the time, but how were you to know? 

How could you have known that she would be dead in only two week’s time?

A mere fortnight?

One sick morning turned into two which then turned into three and before you knew it, it had been a while since you had breakfast with the other woman. What you thought would clear up in a few days had only seemed to get worse, and while your parents assured you that she would be better in no time, the worry in their eyes said otherwise.

As did their lips.

“...but you and father tend to her,” you argued one evening, looking at your mother with a frown. “Why is it that I cannot see her?”

Your mother started to take your hand before thinking better of it.

“...because we do not yet know what is wrong with her. We do not know how it could be passed along and one sick daughter is frightful enough,” was her excuse.

An excuse you did not agree with. Did she and father not care if they got sick? Did she not consider how it might affect you should they fall as ill as your sister? Perhaps your defiant thoughts were written all over your face because your mother gently shushed you before you could utter another word. She left you with your thoughts, and the next day you hid around the corner as the doctor came to see to their sick daughter.

“A diagnosis eludes me.”

His confession made your own heart sink, and you could only imagine the look on your parents’ faces as the great doctor in this town admitted to them that he did not know what ailed your sister.

“How can that be?” your father quietly asked him after some time.

“By all accounts…she is not sick—at least, she is showing no outright signs of any illness.”

There was a long beat of silence, and it seemed that he decided to elaborate.

“She has no cough and nothing is irregular about her heart or breathing–.”

“Yes, but she does not eat and she is always so exhausted and…look at her! You know what our daughter looks like, doctor, and she is half the size she once was in only one week’s time. Something is very wrong with her,” your mother hissed.

Your own back was pressed to the wall as they went back and forth with him, all of this information being news to you. Had your sister really lost so much weight in only a short amount of time? Was she really not eating? But was it also true that she had no cough or any other signs of illness?

“I fear that this may be more psychological than anything,” the physician finally said.

“Are you trying to imply that this is all in her head somehow?”

The other man’s statement brought forth a whole new round of questioning and anger, and you were forced to take your leave when you heard their footsteps coming closer. When they all exited through the door—to discuss this more at length, no doubt—you were seated with a book in your lap as if it were the most entrancing thing you ever read.

However, no sooner did the door shut that you found yourself hurrying down the hall and to the one place you had been forbidden from for days.

Your sister’s door had never been a barrier for you, and to stop in front of it with hesitation certainly made it feel as such for the first time in your life. This woman was your best friend, your confidant, the person you were closest to in the entire world. You could find her voice and pick out her face from any crowd, but as it were…she was almost unrecognizable to you.

Your mother’s words did not quite convey just how much weight she had lost, and as you stood in the doorway, you could not help but to think that she looked so frail—terrifying even. Under normal circumstances, one could mistake her for the younger of you two, but as you stood before her, you could only think about how sick one would think she was because she looked very sick indeed.

“Sister?”

Her voice was so small, airy. She sounded like a child.

“Is that you?”

Her thin arm lifted into the air, and her fingers—so skeletal—beckoned you closer.

“They have kept you away, and how I have longed to gaze upon your face…”

You took slow steps with every word that left her lips, and if she noticed the fear and horror on your face, she spoke nothing of it. The bedding was piled so high that only now could you really get a good look at her, and you wished that you had better self control to swallow down your gasp.

Her face was so gaunt that it looked painful, and her once thick and beautiful hair had thinned so. Her skin had lost its color, lips dry and eyes sunken in, and had you walked upon her while she was sleeping, you would have thought she was having an eternal slumber already. With that being said, beyond all that, she was still beautiful in a ghostly sort of way. It fascinated you as much as it terrified you.

“You are sick,” you breathed, looking over her. “Very sick.”

“No,” she hurried to argue, shaking her head. “I am just tired, is all.”

“Tired? This is no mere exhaustion. You look as if you will blow away with the wind.”

When she reached for you, you let her pull you to sit down, and despite how ghastly she looked, there was a twinkle in her eye that you had never seen before. A small smile danced along her lips, and in this moment she looked so much unlike herself.

“Really,” she stressed to you. “I am not sick.”

“Something is wrong,” you told her, sounding like your mother. “What is it then?”

You watched as your sister licked her lips in a way you had never witnessed. It disturbed you, and a shudder crawled up your spine as she slowly swiped her tongue between them. Her eyes glinted in an unfamiliar manner, and for a moment, you felt like she was not seeing you, at all.

“He visits me at night.”

She said the words so quietly that you almost did not hear her, but once you processed what she said, your frown only deepened.

“He crawls through my window…like a cat, you see,” she seemed to gasp. “...in the darkness…and he tastes me…”

Her vulgar words had you gasping, quickly rising to your feet in shock, and you watched as her frail hands glided along her neck and chest.

“He drinks from me, and Y/N, I swear,” she shook her head. “I have never known such heaven.”

Her disturbing words had you so frozen and turned around that you did not even hear your mother return, only the sound of her yelling at you as she pulled you out of your sister’s room. The sound of the other woman’s soft laugh reached your ears even from outside the door, and your feet had a mind of their own as they carried you down the hall.

You could only think to yourself that your parents hid much more about your sister’s illness than you realized. They spoke of no fever, and so you did not think the heat was making her say such delirious things, but perhaps the physician was not far off when he brought up her state of mind. Even hours later, her words disturbed you whenever you thought about them, and you could not get that look in her eyes out of your head.

It was a look of hunger and desperation and elation all rolled into one as she spoke of some phantom man who came into her room at night and drank from her. The thought made you shudder, and even in the darkness of your family’s manor, you swore that you could hear her childlike giggle from down the hall.

One week later, your sister was dead.

Your father was the next to go.

It happened quickly, the complete opposite of your sister, and you did not know if you preferred that. It was a simple carriage ride from the next town over when their carriage was…attacked. Somehow. At least, that is what you were told. You never did see anything for yourself, your mother having the responsibility and burden of identifying his body.

All you knew was that she was a wreck when you saw her.

It was only when you were at the funeral—the second in a month’s time—did you finally hear whispers of what may have happened that fateful night.

“The carriage driver was completely ripped apart,” a woman whispered behind you. “I hear they did not find much to even put in his casket.”

You froze at that, and you wondered if the insensitive woman even realized that you were there.

“...and poor Mr. Y/L/N was completely drained of blood…”

Your heart sank.

“Throat practically ripped out. Or…at least that is what they said.”

“What sort of animal can do such a thing?”

“It sounds like something straight out of a nightmare…”

Their words did not leave you for weeks, and you found it so hard to sleep.

The absence of both your sister and your father—and especially in such a short amount of time—was glaringly present in the manor. While your mother brought on help to lighten the load for the time being, when it was all said and done, she did not need someone to do the cooking and the sweeping and the dusting. Your mother needed someone to bring back your father and sister, and you very much wanted the same.

In the weeks that followed their deaths, a dark cloud seemed to descend over the house. You swore that it followed you with every corner you turned and every step you took. It was dark and ominous and suffocating, and there were many nights you sat up in your bed out of your sleep and gasping for breath. If you did not know any better, you swore that you could feel it choking you with its bare hands if it had any.

The demise of your sister was something you had come to be prepared for even if it was only a few days in advance. That is not to say that it made her death any easier to swallow, but your father’s was so sudden that no preparations—emotional or otherwise—had even been made. When your sister was buried, the grief had threatened to pull you down, but something about your father’s death triggered something else entirely.

You could feel it in your very bones.

There was a danger that hung in the air in his absence. Perhaps it was because you thought your father to be untouchable. His death was something you rarely gave thought to and when you did, you were confident that it would be something you would have to grapple with so far in the future. He was your provider and your protector and with him gone, you felt scarily vulnerable. Vulnerable to what? You did not know.

…but those nights in which you walked the dark hallways to find something to eat or drink grew less frequent. Every trip down to the kitchen and back up to your room felt longer than the last. At one point, you swore that your mind was playing a trick on you and that the hallway had grown in length. 

Every step felt shadowed, and too many times did you stop with a glass in hand, convinced that you could hear the whisper of footsteps echoing alongside yours. In those moments you stood so still and did not dare to release a single breath, afraid that it would bring something about you would not have protection from. In those moments, your hair would stand on end and you would stare straight ahead into the darkness for so long that you swore you even started to see things.

Telling yourself that you could not remain there all night, frozen between floors and rooms, you would force yourself to carry on, walking slow and soft in case you were being followed by something you swore you could not see. And when you finally made it to your room, you faced the door as you closed it, convinced that something would latch onto your back otherwise and that you would take it to bed with you.

As you laid in bed, you told yourself that the faint footsteps outside of your door was all in your head.

Your mother’s uncharacteristic silence had become the new normal. Breakfast was a quiet affair, tea time was a quiet affair, and you were sure that even if she did leave the house with you to go to the market, it too would have been a quiet affair. As it were, you could never even get the older woman to step foot outside of the door. 

Your sister’s death had shaken her, but your father’s had broken her entirely. It sometimes made you wonder how she might have reacted at your death, but as it were, she would never know. Despite how much the house terrified you these days, that ominous darkness had claimed her instead.

Like your sister, it crept up on her.

Unlike with your sister though, you were attuned to everything about your mother these days for she was all you had. So when those dreadful bags started to appear beneath her eyes from a lack of sleep, you were the first to point it out.

“I am just tired, sweetheart,” she softly told you, waving you off.

“...but all you ever do is sleep.”

She had no answer for you, humming softly to herself as if the brief exchange had never happened, at all. You stared at her for so long, and she continued to hum and needlepoint and for a moment, you could have sworn that she forgot you were there entirely. The entire time your gaze remained on her, she did not look up once, and a cold feeling washed over you, feeling the strangest sense of deja vu as you looked over her.

Your mother became something like a ghost—smiling past you and looking through you and resembling something like a lesser version of herself each day.

“Mother, you must get out of bed. Walk around, get some sunlight…eat.”

They were familiar words that she had been hearing for days, and like all the other times, your words fell on deaf ears. She merely smiled at you and took your hand and gently rubbed your skin from the comfort of her bed.

“You are so beautiful, sweetheart,” she whispered.

It was as if she was not even there, at all, and no one was more relieved than you when the physician finally came to see her, terrified of history repeating itself. But it seemed determined to do just that because he uttered the same words to you that he did to your parents all those months ago.

“She has no outright signs of illness,” he told you. “...and I fear…it is all psychological.”

The words ‘care’ and ‘facility’ reached your ears, but you did not know how to tell him that you were afraid to be alone in this house. This house that killed your sister and was currently killing your mother, and should you be left alone in it, you were afraid that it would kill you too.

It certainly felt that way, especially in the darkness, and each step to your mother’s room felt harder and harder to take. She did not want to eat nor drink, and so you felt it was your duty to see to it that she did not suffer her daughter’s fate. Every movement closer to her room felt…unwise, and when the candle in your hand lit up her door, a newfound silence descended over the corridor. As if there were faint whispers you had not been able to register before, only now that it truly felt silent.

“Mother?”

Silence was all that met you, and swallowing down your fear, you turned the knob.

You did not know what sight you expected to be met with, but oddly enough it was not the vision of your mother resting soundly in her bed. The sight genuinely surprised you, and for just a moment you silently told yourself to get it together.

You stepped into the room with a sigh, placing the water on her nightstand and looking over her. Your brows knitted at how peaceful she looked, and you recalled a stray thought about your sister once. If you did not know any better, you would say that your mother was dead, but the slow rise and fall of her chest pointed to otherwise.

Telling yourself that you would leave the water for her to drink in the morning, you made your leave. You turned your back on her and the room, the candle lighting the hallway before you. With the thought of your bed in mind, you turned to close the door…and froze.

It was a cruel trick of the light, but your eyes shaped the outline of a figure nonetheless. It towered over where your mother slept like some grim reaper, and the flame of the candle flickered despite the lack of wind. You did not look away once, and your lips parted in a silent gasp, but when you moved the candle past your face…her room was empty once again.

You told yourself that you were seeing things, but only your mind believed that. Your heart thudded and your skin grew cold and your legs shook as if something had really been there. You tried to convince yourself that it was nothing, but then why did you suddenly feel less alone?

When you looked over your shoulder, all that met you was darkness. No matter which way the candle moved, the flame only shined a light on darkness, and against your better judgement, you slowly made your way back to your room.

You buried your mother four days later.

And then you were alone.

Your sister spoke the truth.

He came in the night.

A house full of maids and kitchen staff and houseboys posed no deterrent for him for his sights had been set on you since before the first member of your family was buried. He did not want the maids or any of the houseboys or any of the cooks. He wanted the last surviving member of your family. 

He wanted you when you were down and isolated and afraid of something you could not see but could surely feel.

Your window was not open, but your sheets ruffled all the same as if it were. They moved like something was beneath them, and even in your sleep, you could feel it. You could feel that something was not right. A ghost of a whisper was in your ear and the whisper of fingers was on your skin. They danced along your flesh like spiders, and when you reached down to push them away, your hand only met air.

Staring up at the ceiling gave you no clarity. Your room was as empty as it was when you retired to bed, and you swallowed at the thought that you were losing your sanity too. It would not be surprising if you were. After all, burying all of the family you had in half a year’s time was not something you would wish on the worst of people.

You continued to stare into the darkness for what felt like hours, and despite your best efforts, sleep eventually won.

It was a good sleep—a great sleep even—and had one of the maids not told you, you would’ve thought that you slept for days instead of only one. Her proposal of breakfast surprisingly stirred up nothing within you, and despite how much it worried you that you did not want to get out of bed, you could not find it in yourself to move. Despite how long you had slept, you felt the most exhausted that you ever felt.

One day turned into three, and each morning you felt weaker and weaker.

Your body and your mind were in a battle, and the latter only won with the help of one of the maids, her shoulder acting as a crutch as she guided you to the washroom. Every action felt tenfold and took the greatest bit of strength to do. All of this seemed so familiar to you but on the other side now, and determined to get back to your room on your own, you brushed off her help.

Your bed called to you, and you almost heeded its call, but one glance in the mirror stopped you.

You looked weaker, yes. You had already started to lose your color, this was true. Looking into the mirror certainly stirred up some feelings that you had when staring into the faces of your sister and mother, but none of those things were what caught your attention. With parted lips, you tilted your head to the side, and your mind struggled to comprehend what you were staring at.

The bite marks were all that you could see, and your gaze eventually lowered to the floor.

Faint memories of waking up in the middle of the night with the feeling of something sitting on your chest hit you. The heavy feeling, the heat coursing through your body, none of it was forgotten, and your eyes traveled to your bed in fear. Its call was so strong, and your mind told you to go downstairs, but your body did not listen.

He found you right where he wanted you when darkness fell again, and this time he was no phantom. There were no whispers of a touch nor the faint murmurs of voices on the wind that you had convinced yourself you had imagined. 

He was before you in the flesh.

His soft hands glided along your frame as if they were committing you to memory. His lips kissed along your skin, and in between every peck, he took a bite out of you. Gentle bites, nothing alarming, but enough to make you gasp and arch off of the bed. His dark hair tickled your shoulder as he drank from you, and you could not hold in your hum as his fingers gently dragged back and forth along your spine.

He was beautiful, but he carried death with him.

When his fingers found their way inside of you—the first to ever do such a thing—it brought a noise out of you that you did not know was possible. It seemed to amuse him, and beyond the haze of ecstasy and horror, you heard something like a sound of appreciation leave his lips. His fingers were soaked with you, and the sheets whispered in the otherwise quiet room from every movement.

Your window was wide open tonight, and the wind blew the curtains along the walls.

His pale skin glowed under the moonlight—you both were bathed in it—and the smell of blood was strong in the room. He bit you everywhere he so desired—your neck, your breast, your ankle, and even that place between your thighs where you had never imagined a mouth could go. It made you feel on fire, and you twisted your hands into your hair as he crawled up your trembling body.

One of his arms snaked its way underneath you, lifting your chest towards his mouth, and the pulling sensation of your blood leaving your frame had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Your legs were tangled with his, and he was on his knees, and your back was completely off of your bed. You felt as if you were floating, and you did not want to come down.

“What a pretty responsive thing you are…”

It was the first time you heard him speak—truly speak beyond whispers in the air and voices in your head.

When he finally slid his cock into you, your head hung off of the bed and your fingers twisted into his hair. It was oh so painful but the sensations were equally new and exciting and the mix of it all had you moaning into the darkness. Your blood from your chest ran down your neck and some of it even onto your lips. 

You even swore that you heard him growl into your skin as he fucked you, and it sounded so inhuman, but you supposed that is what he was—inhuman. He disappeared in the light and came out of the darkness and found his way into your head. He lived off of the blood of people like you, and only something other could do that.

Your foot slid up and down his leg as he stretched you out onto his cock, splitting you open and sinking into your folds without a care in the world. His tongue traced the trail of blood he left behind, and when his lips found yours, you tasted yourself on his mouth. He was rabid and savage and wild just like an animal, but more than anything, he was teasing and cruel and hungry like a predator.

He prevented you from hurdling over that cliff just too many times to keep you sane, and you felt yourself losing your mind more and more every time you were denied. Every stroke of his cock flamed that fire deep within your stomach, and as the night went on, you felt as if you were about to combust. You were sticky with sweat and blood, and your sheets must have looked like a crime scene.

He bit you again and again, satiating more than one hunger by taking his fill of your body. You were in heaven and hell at the same time, and everything around you melted away. You forgot where you were, you forgot your grief, and you forgot your solitude. You even forgot your name, and when you finally came around him, all that you felt was cock and his teeth and the pleasure that both were giving you.

Inky black hair framed an angular jaw. He was tall, easily looming over you, but you didn’t feel threatened. He wore a crisp grey suit blazer, a perfect match to the clouds overhead, with a white shirt underneath and black Armani matching shoes and pants. But what you admired was the green pocket handkerchief a perfect match his eyes. His eyes sparkled even in the low light of the museum like two emeralds..

“Oh…uhm…thank you,” you said as he sat down next to you.

“Have you done any other drawings?” he asked. He must just be waiting for his partner, you thought. Someone as sexy as him had to be here with someone.

“Yes, I have.” You replied, your voice flat but polite.

“May I see them?” That caught your attention. No one had ever asked to see more of your drawings. But here was this prince charming of a man doing just that.

“Oh, I …yes… I just don’t want to keep you from anyone,” you started. This had to be good to be true.

“Not at all, doll.” He smiled at his rhyme. “My name is Loki.”

“Loki, rhymes with lucky. Well, kind of.” You joked back, telling him your name. You offered your hand to shake his, but Loki surprised you by taking your hand and pressing it to his lips. You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt your face heating up. You were starting to feel like a giddy school girl.

“Lovely to meet you. Now, please show me what other artists you’ve paid homage to with your talents.” He purred. You offered him your sketchbook and he flipped through, slowly. Until he came upon your rendition of Starry Night by Van Gogh. “Extraordinary.” Loki’s eyes met yours and you suddenly found yourself feeling very shy. “Your pallet of blues and greens are a match for Vincent himself.”

“Oh, it’s just a recreation.” You said, trying to brush away the compliment. Loki’s voice held it’s charismatic charm.

“And? You still recreated it yourself. Not to mention your personal addition of a mix of purple. Besides, I think Vincent would have felt just as bashful about someone drawing his work.” Loki’s words sent butterflies rushing you through your belly and you were beaming with pride

“You speak as if you know him.” Loki smiled but didn’t answer you. He flipped through the rest of your drawings before handing your book back. “You have a keen eye. I’d love to walk around for a while with a such an artistic spirit.” All thoughts of your drawing abandoned, you packed up your things and joined him as he left the exhibit and strolled to the next one.

The two of you spent the rest of the morning wandering the exhibits and it almost started to feel like a date; your first in a long time. Loki lavished you with attention and compliments, and seemed to hang on every word you said. You kept looking at his lips and it seemed every time you did, he was looking at you and biting them. You hoped it was because he was thinking about kissing you, but he never did.

Around mid-day, the two of you decided to have a quick lunch. The museum had a small restaurant attached where students from the local culinary school got experience.

“I only ask you avoid anything with garlic.” Loki requested. “I have a severe allergy. Might I suggest a steak?. I hear it’s absolutely delicious.”

“Oh, that sounds great. I love a good rare steak.”

After lunch, you and Loki toured the rest of the museum, and of course that meant a trip to the gift shop.

“Choose anything you like, little artist. My gift to you.” Loki said and your heart swelled. You weren’t really materialistic, but that had to mean this was a date, right? You had to make sure to get Loki’s number before you both left. Looking around for a little while, you chose a nice oil paint set.

You also grabbed a book of queer poetry the museum was selling to celebrate their new queer art exhibit, and a set of Vincent van Gogh sticky notes (his ear slowly disappeared the more you used). Since Loki had offered you just the one gift, you went to pay for the book and the notes yourself, but he gladly took all three items up to the register.

“Oh Loki, that’s okay. You don’t have to...” But another pearly white grin made you pause.

“I know I don’t. But you deserve it.” You easily hand over the items and you were sure little cartoon heart bubbles were appearing over your head. Strolling out of the museum you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Loki was kind, funny, caring., everything you could want.

A car pulled up to the sidewalk where you two were standing and Loki opened the door, looking at you expectantly. But you were confused. Shouldn’t you be leaving, alone? But you weren’t moving to do that either. Suddenly you were frozen to the sidewalk. Loki tilted his head and let out a small sigh. Blinking slowly and when his eyes opened, they were a crimson red.

“Well now, it seems my influence didn’t work as strong as I planned. No matter, I can easily remedy this. Give me your hand.” You did as he asked, only for the first time noticing how he’d been subtly ordering you around today. Before you could ask another question, Loki smiled and you saw two white fangs in his mouth.

“I won’t be able to have my full taste of you now, but it’s the quickest way to get you to obey. This may hurt, but just don’t scream.” He ordered before biting down and it did hurt, but all that seemed to come to was a whimper. He drank from you for a moment before pulling your wrist away. “Just as sweet as I imagined.” Loki said with a small groan, as if it pained him to stop. “Come now, little artist.” With no hesitation, you climbed into the SUV with Loki and off it drove.

“Loki, what’s…what’s going on?” you felt like all day had been a pleasant dream and now you were waking into a real nightmare.

Ignoring your question, another thing you noticed he’d been doing all day, Loki leaned over and pulled you closer to him; arranging you to be kneeling in his lap. His hands gripped your thighs firmly but the way he rubbed his thumbs back and forth felt intimate and caring. And you couldn’t mistake the feeling of his very hard cock against your bottom.

The car took a hard turn and you grabbed onto Loki’s shoulders to steady yourself. You found yourself looking at his face, wanting to avoid eye contact but the only other option was to stare at his fangs. Currently on display in a smirk that was dangerous, no matter how alluring.

“Did you know, little artist, that human heartbeats are unique? Each one has a different pitch. You humans can’t detect it with all your scientific equipment though. It’s something only a vampire can sense. And darling, your little heart was singing so sweetly for me. A song of loneliness.” Loki said. You couldn’t tell if was mocking you or genuine, turning your head in embarrassment.

But Loki held your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Foolish humans can’t recognize true beauty when they see it. A lovely specimen like yourself, but not a one amongst them wanting to treasure you. I suppose if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” And for the first time that afternoon, Loki finally kissed you. The taste of your blood still lingered on his tongue, but rather than be disgusted and push him away, you found your hands clasping on to his blazer tighter.

When you finally had to pull away to breathe, Loki smiled. “What a treasure I have.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand.” You panted out. Your mind was feeling floaty. The part of you thinking you should fight back was giving way to how wonderful you felt. Surely something bad couldn’t make you so happy.

“Luckily, you don’t have to understand, little artist.” Loki said, teasing with the edge of your sweater. “You just have to keep doing what you’re doing now; dress in my colors and be my tasty little morsel. In return ’ll shower you with whatever you want for as long you live”. A dark glint flashed in his eye “Or however long I let you live.”

Fear edged it’s way back into your senses with a whimper but he chuckled mischievously. “Oh, don’t worry, darling. With how sweet you taste, I don’t think I’ll disposing of you for quite some time. Perhaps ever.” He leaned in close so his lips were nearly touching yours. “Especially with how wet I can feel you’re getting.” You hadn’t thought of it too much during the day, but you knew it was true. It’d been so long since you’d had sex, all the attention today had been stoking your desire. He leaned back, smiling.

“You were so lonely, feeling invisible. But really you were just waiting for someone to see you. Absolutely adorable.”

You should be stopping yourself. You shouldn’t be loving this like you do. But you didn’t know whether it truly was his influence, your own desire. All you knew was you couldn’t stop yourself from biting your lip and grinding against Loki’s lap.

“Oh dear. What a little slut I’ve acquired. Good girls don’t grind against a complete stranger’s lap.” Suddenly, he pushed your sweater and bra up completely, exposing your chest. “It’s a good thing I like dirty little sluts.” His touch on your chest was ice cold, fondling your breasts before pinching your nipple, making you moan and squirm more in his lap

“You don’t need to make art, little one. You ARE art. And with me, you shall become a masterpiece.” He leaned in to kiss and nibble at your neck, a spot that had always been excessively sensitive for you. “Oh, to ravish you right here, right now. But my masterpiece must have a proper framing.” He leaned back in his seat, but left you in his lap fully exposed.

“Loki…please…I need you…” you begged, clutching at his suit jacket; hoping to entice him more.

“I know love, but I’m right here.” He brought his arms around you and drew you close to him. Though not exactly warm, Loki's body was not ice cold like his hands. You didn’t realize how it had truly been someone had held you like this until you were here. It felt, safe. Despite the fact you shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t want to be here, you found yourself nestling closer, and grinding just a little against Loki’s lap., teasing him ever so. But this time, Loki applied a soft smack to your ass.

“Now now, little one. If I can be patient, so must you be.” Loki chuckled as he stroked your hair. “Besides, I meant what I said today. Most mortals don’t know how to appreciate art. You certainly do. I’m sure you must appreciate the bard.” He said. You heard him tapping away at his phone. “Normally I prefer to read an actual book. You’ll have to see my library.” Another moment passed before Loki began reading to you. Shakespearean sonnets. You recognized your favorite.

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,

For as you were when first your eye I eyed,

Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold

Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride,

Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned

In process of the seasons have I seen,

Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,

Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.

Ah, yet doth beauty, like a dial-hand,

Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived;

So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,

Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:

For fear of which, hear this, thou age unbred:

Ere you were born was beauty’s summer dead.

You looked up at him and admired the mischief in his eyes; playful but with no malice. “Have you ever wondered who that sonnet was about, little artist?” he said with a wink and you couldn’t help giggling. You looked out the window and saw the car had driven out of the city and out into a more rural wooded area.

“Though not immediately deadly, my skin is far more susceptible to sunshine than yours. The woods also give us plenty of privacy.” One second Loki spoke like prince charming from a fairy tale; the next, the villain of the story. And both sides seemed bent on only getting a reaction from you. This time it was to shake, whether from excitement or fear you didn’t know. Loki chuckled

“Don’t worry, pet. Your master will keep you safe from the things that go bump in the night.” You pulled in the driveway of a beautiful stone Tudor cabin, though manor might’ve been a better word for it. Two stories of grey stone and grayish-green walls that almost seemed to camouflage the house. An illusion only helped by standing above an underground driveway built into a hillside. From the driveway a winding cobblestone pathway lined with lavender led to a wooden front door.

“Yes, I suppose it is a lot for just one. Luckily, I have someone to share it with now.” Loki said and you turned to him in shock. He let out a chuckle before kissing your forehead. “I can hear all those pretty little thoughts. Even the sad, lonely ones you don’t want to admit to yourself.”

Loki cradled your cheek gently and even though you weren’t sure you should, you let yourself meet his eyes. “You may not believe me, but I promise I speak with no influence. I know you have longed for someone to love you, support you, care for you as much as you care for those around you. And that kind heart, thoughtful mind, and beautiful soul call to me just as much as the delicious blood running through your veins. And I intend to indulge in both for a rather long time. I want you to say ‘Yes Loki’ to show you understand and accept me. Please.”

Somewhere, deep in your heart and mind, you chose to believe him. If a vampire wanted you dead, you already would be. He’d made no move to harm you. Quite the opposite in fact.

“Yes, Loki.” You answered, smiling warmly.

“Good girl.” He said, pressing another quick kiss to your lips. As the car pulled up to the front door of the home, you asked him

“Loki, can I please…pull my shirt down?” He pondered for a moment.

“Yes, but only until we are inside. Then I want you to strip entirely.” You felt slight relief at the being able to cover up as Loki’s driver came around to open the door.

“Thank you, Jeeves.” Loki nodded cordially to him

“My pleasure sir. Madam.” He gave you a friendly nod. You briefly thought of saying something to him, but would the driver believe you if you did? Instead gave him a small smile.

“Thank you.” You said.

“Anytime, my lady.”

“Shall we?” Loki asked, offering you his hand to lead you up to the front door.

“Loki, does he…?” you couldn’t resist asking.

“You’d be surprised what people will believe or accept for a paycheck. Thankfully, I don’t need to keep much staff; only a driver and a house keeper who comes twice a week. I tend to keep a neat household.” He eyed you playfully with a small tickle to your side. “Though it will be interesting actually having to ‘grocery shop.’” You let out another chuckle, a little shocked at how normal this could feel.

“I have a full kitchen.” Loki said. “It was easier to build a house with one than explaining why I don’t need one to human contractors. Plus, it gives me a place to store blood.”

“Where do you get that?” You asked as Loki opened the door for you, a bit more confidence in your voice. If Loki was going to read your thoughts anyways, you could at least choose to be verbal and open in your side of the communication.

“You’re not the first mortal I’ve lured…through my door,” he explained, shutting the actual door behind you. “I’ve collected a supply over the years.” He hung his suit jacket up, unbuttoning his cuffs and pushing his sleeves up his well toned fore arms.

“And did those mortals…go back out the door?” you asked. Loki paused, smiling at you as he took your umbrella and bag from you. For a moment you weren’t sure if this would be another question Loki would actually answer or not.

“Some. Though not always in the same way they did. Now, I do believe we are inside.” You bit your lip as you undressed slowly. You weren’t used to walking around fully naked but the way Loki stared at you certainly helped any self-consciousness wash away. You found yourself wanting to pose for him, show off a little.

“Beautiful. Come along, little artist. Let me show you your new home.” With one arm around your waist, Loki led you down a hallway.

Leaning into the rustic yet refined nature of a Tudor cabin; Loki’s…your…home felt warm and natural. Dark hardwood floors complimented emerald green walls. Golden metal fixtures added a royal feeling to the whole place. Not to mention the wonderful art and posters decorating the walls in golden frames. Including…

“Is that…Starry Night?”

“It’s only a recreation, but one done but by Vincent himself.” Loki mused.

“Just how well did you know this man?” You couldn’t help but ask. Loki thought for a moment, smiling as he reminisced.

“To borrow a crude mortal saying, the carpets matched the drapes.” He finally answered, making you snort in laughter as you moved along to the kitchen.

Loki was right. The kitchen was immaculate. But more modern looking than the rest of the house. Slate grey tiles complemented the black marble counter tops and grey wooden cabinets. with grey tiled floor. Chrome appliances included an 8-range burner and a dual oven would’ve made any baker salivate.

“My mother would faint to see a kitchen so clean.” You said, admiring the view out the window, seeing a lovely garden that backed up to the forest.

“Don’t be fooled. I told the designers to go with darker colors because blood on white tiles would have me living in an Alfred Hitchcock movie.”

“Did you know him too?” You asked, incredulously. Loki chuckled and you felt him press against you from behind. You’d gotten used to being naked but the sudden chill at the feeling of his hands on your exposed skin had you feeling very exposed.

“Do you cook little one?” Loki asked, kissing along your neck and shoulders.

“Some things.” You breathed. “I suppose I’ll have to cross garlic off the menu.” Loki chuckled.

“Perhaps. But being around for quite some time, I’ve found a good spice mix that takes its place. Now, lean against the counter and spread your legs for me, pet,” You leaned and did so, giving him full access to your pussy. His left hand dipped between your legs while his right held your body close to his. His voice purred in your ear.

“Did you know little artists, humans tend to smell like what they last ate?” His middle finger began drawing small circles around your clit. “And you just smelled so delicious. English tea…and blueberries.” You could feel Loki’s smile against your neck. “Even though I don’t eat, I’ll make sure my little pet gets fed the most delicious foods.” You tried to focus on what he was saying but all you could feel was his hand between your legs, not doing enough to bring you to climax but just enough to drive you crazy.

“Come now, little artist. I have another room I promised to show you.” Loki’s sudden withdrawal of his hands had your knees almost buckling, but you steadied yourself on the counter. With a frustrated sigh, something Loki smirked at, you followed after him.

But you were glad that you did as Loki lead you to the library he’d mentioned. Walls upon walls all lined with books. A central sitting area had an incredibly comfortable looking plush chair set in front of a fireplace. It was like you’d always imagined.

“Plenty of room to paint or draw in as well.” Loki pointed out. You were pleasantly surprised at the sound system. A turntable set in a wooden cabinet with dual speakers and a modern faceplate.

“The directions said it can connect to phones as well, but the record player was most important to me. The best way mortals have thought to preserve music.” His words did make you think of one thing you’d nearly forgotten.

“Loki, I have some…personal, irreplaceable other things at my…old… home…” you weren’t sure what you’d call it now. “could we go pick them up please?”

“Absolutely, pet. Now. I’ve saved the best room last.” You knew what that meant. And this time you were quicker to follow him, full of anticipation. Loki led you to a double set of doors. But before he turned the handles to open them, he turned to you, meeting your eyes.

“Outside of the bedroom, I am rather lenient and want you to be comfortable. Behind these doors, however, I am your king, your god. But that doesn’t mean I wish you true harm. You will address me as master, but if something I do causes you serious, dangerous harm, your safe word is frost. Understood?” The seriousness of his voice could’ve given you fear, but you felt safe and secure as you replied.

“Yes, Loki.” Loki arched an eye brow at your address. “You said, in the bedroom.” You said, trowing a smirk back at hum, unafraid to let a little sass slide.

“Clever, pet.” Loki opened the doors, revealing a beautiful bedroom. Hard wood floors covered by a plush looking area rug Several more bookshelves lined the walls, along with a vintage looking writing desk. A wooden bedframe that matched the floors dominated the space with beautiful dark green sheets.

“Kneel on the bed for me, pet.”

“Yes Master.” You answered, climbing up and relishing in the softness of his blankets. You felt like you were kneeling on a cloud. But unsure of how to position your hands and settling to rest them on your thighs you saw Loki admiring you as he did the paintings today.

“Exquisite.” The feeling made a shiver of anticipation run down your spine, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. He slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, revealing a lithe but toned body. “Do you like what you see, pet? Tell me.”

“Yes, Master.” You expected him to remove his pants, next. But instead, he went to a dresser, reaching into the top drawer to pull out a beautiful gold colored rope. “I told you that you would be my masterpiece. Another thing you learn from living so long is all of the body’s most sensitive spots. And how to stimulate them simultaneously.”

Loki went over to one of the shelves, thumbing through the records and pulling one out to set on the player. He turned back to you with a smile as smooth jazz of Miles Davis filled your ears and not just the physical ones too.” He then lit some candles scent of red berries, jasmine, and plum washed over the space, making your head swim. Stimulated was certainly the right word for how you were feeling.

Loki studied you for a few moments, and you lifted your head confidently, his gaze and everything he’d done were all working together, making you feel sensual and desired.

“So perfect for me. And all mine.” Loki mused, starting to tie the ropes. First, he wrapped ropes around your legs, binding them in a bent position before attaching them to your hands behind your back. Then he encircled your breasts, squeezing them just enough to make them sensitive but not painful.

Every knot he tied was punctuated with a kiss or a little nibble to your skin. Usually followed by a whimper or a moan from you; occasionally a giggle when Loki found a ticklish spot, which he seemed to take special note of. The most sensitive knot though was the one Loki tied just at your clit. Just like you’d grinded against Loki’s lap earlier, you couldn’t help trying to get some friction, but the knot was tied perfectly to apply the same level of pressure no matter how you moved.

“Lokiii…” you whined, which earned a smack to your pussy.

“I’m sorry, you were ordered to call me something, weren’t you, slut?” Loki hissed. “Unless you’d like your master to take full control?” He warned.

“No…Master.” You whimpered in response. You’d gotten too comfortable, unwittingly test a boundary that you thought was a security net, but was revealed to really electric fence; appearing harmless but if you tested it, you would be hurt. Loki’s expression softened.

“Good girl.” Loki gave you a boop to the nose, but with the way your body was tied, you found yourself falling backwards into the plushness of his bed. You looked and saw he was turned away from you, undoing his pants. But that gave you a great view of his ass. Your hands clenched as you had the thought of giving it a hard squeeze. After all, fair is fair, right?

“Oh just wait, pet. The best is yet to…come,” he turned. His zipper was undone and he’d pulled his cock out of his boxers. He was, stroking it languidly and you were a little stunned at the size. You’d felt him earlier but even still. Loki joined you on the bed, settling between your spread legs so his cock was just brushing against your entrance.

“You are positively dripping for me, little artist. So desperate for me to claim you. To be a vampire’s whore. Is that what you are, slut? My little blood bag to fuck and feed from?”

“Ye-yes Master” you panted trying to buck your hips up “Please fuck me.” At that Loki leaned in and you thought he might kiss you but as he thrusr his hips forward, driving his cock deep inside you, he bit down hard on your neck. The pleasure and pain making you scream as your toes curled. Loki drank from you as his hips set a steady pace. When he pulled away, his lips lowered to your ear.

“So warm, so tight, so perfect. No wonder your heart called to me, pet. Your cunt was made for me.” Loki growled, leaning up to grin down at you wolfishly, only helped by the fangs. Your blood was dripping from his lips but that image only drove you crazier with desire. Loki’s cock was stretching you better than your toys ever had; only heightened by the knot against your clit and the edge he’d kept you on all afternoon. It wasn’t long before you could feel your climax building.

“Master, please… it’s so good,” you moaned.

“Such a wanton slut. My little morsel. You want your master’s cum, filing you and claiming you as mine?” His thrusts increased in pace and pressure, fucking you harder and faster. His hands holding your hips with a firm grasp you were sure would leave bruises.

“Bruises, reminding you who belong to. I have such delicious plans for you. Binding you to display you wherever I want, using my control to make you cum over and over again until you’re broken before me.” His words and promises only fueled you more and your pussy was clenching his cock, ready to cum.

“Master, please may I cum?” you begged, so desperate from the incredible pleasure Loki’d given you. You’d had a few sexual encounters in the past, but nothing like this.

“Yes, yes, you will cum for me. With the knowledge I’ve ruined you for any subpar pleasure some mortal man would try to give you. You. Are Mine.” His words were punctuated by extra hard thrusts and the last one finally made the coil snap. Your body tensed in blinding pleasure as Loki again bit down into the other side of your neck. The light headedness only heightening the experience as you felt him still above you, cumming deep within you.

Loki reached down and fiddled with a knot by your knees and you stretched slowly as you were able to unbind your legs, even if you were still wearing the rope like some bizarre set of tights

“Oh don’t worry, little artist. I have plenty of ways to bend your body to my will, I won’t have to force your mind at all.” His hands stroked your hair so gently, while his lips left kisses lighter than air along your neck. Your hands, still bound in the rope, did not feel like handcuffs. In fact, you decided to tease Loki by scratching his back with the ropes.

“Mmm…just a little lower, love. That feels delightful.” You both giggled and he placed quick kisses to your lips. “It’s been quite some time since I shared my bed with someone; at least someone I planned to spend more than one night with.” Loki confessed.

“It’s been a while for me too. I’ve done okay by myself but sometimes…” you trailed off.

Loki’s long fingers brushed over your forehead, tracing your features. You gaze up at him, eyes wide and pupils blown.

“You are so beautiful, my pet,” he coos, thumb tugging at your lips. Loki towers over you at full height compared to you on your knees, and you love how he commands every part of the moment. “So, so beautiful.”

You’ve been working on Loki’s estate for nearly a year but only met the man a few months ago. From the moment you’d laid eyes on him, you’d been infatuated, drawn into the power he exudes. Ever since, you’ve sensed his nearness, felt his presence in every room. 

It has all come to a crux tonight. It was as if something had called you to him, guided you to him. You want to beg him for something, anything, but you’re not sure what.

“Please,” you whisper. Loki smirks and crouches down in front of you. His eyes pierce into your soul, seeing the depths of your being.

“Oh, my pet, the things I want to do to you. The things I crave…” He dips his head, running his nose along your neck. He breathes you in deeply, and you shudder at his closeness. One of Loki’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, tilting it, while the other circles your throat. 

You suck in a deep breath, your heart slamming in your chest as Loki’s essence surrounds you. He lowers his mouth to your neck and licks the soft skin there, tasting you. He growls, tightening his grip on your head and neck.

“You taste exquisite,” he manages to bite out, his lips tickling your pulse point. Loki’s teeth scrape against you, and you shiver, aching to arch into him. 

“Loki,” your voice comes out as a moan.

“Do you want me to show you?” You whimper out your reply, and a moment later, flashes of vivid images fill your mind.

Images of Loki pressing you into the ground, of him sinking into you deeply.

Images of his head buried between your thighs, of your fingers in his hair.

Images of Loki’s mouth on your neck, of his hands all over you.

“Is that what you want, pet?” Loki asks, nipping at your neck. 

“Yes, Loki.”

“Be careful what you wish for.” Your back hits the carpet, the air in your lungs leaving you in a gasp. He crawls over you, and for a moment, fear slams in your chest. But it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

Loki’s head lowers over your pulse point, and pleasure pours through your veins as he drinks from you. You’ve never felt so warm, so alive. 

When Loki pulls away, his smile is menacing but beautiful, tainted with the deep red of your blood on his lips. “Now you’re all mine,” he whispers. “Forever.”

please message me to be added to a taglist. must be 18+

It has been months like this. Loki, a handsome Vampire came for Y/n at every night and took and gave her. He took blood from her, in exchange of pleasure.

Her window was open and she just waited for him to arrive. Soon enough he was there.

“Hello, Darling~”, Loki purred out.

“Hello, Loki.”

“You ready tonight again ?”

“Y-yes.”

Loki nodded and went over to her side.

______________________

Loki rubbed her clit as he bit her shoulder and sucked a bit of her blood out there. All Y/n could do was moan in pleasure and buck her hips.

“L-Loki~!”

He continued to rub her and drink from her.

______________________

He fondled her boobs as he licked her left thigh and then bit inside.

“AH~! LOKI~!”

He pinched her nipples softly and sucked from her thigh, moaning at her taste.

______________________

He positioned his cock at her entrance and pushed inside.

“OH YES~! LOKI~!”

Loki smirked and kissed her, she kissed back eagerly. He fucked her slowly, but roughly. It drove her wild and close to the edge. She moaned his name in ecstasy and Loki bit her neck, sucking from it, making her scream in pleasure and cum all over his cock.

Loki was cuming too, filling her with his cum. He continued to drink from her neck for a while, until she whimpered weakly. Then he pulled away and snuggled with her for 2 hours. Then he had to leave again.

Waiting for the next night to come.

You’re stressed out and tired from the long day you had at work, or rather your old job since they decided to lay you off. So, when you get into your car, check all your mirrors, and back out fast because you don’t see anyone, you don’t expect to hear a thud and feel your car lurch. 

You gasp with wide eyes looking into your rearview mirror. You swallow the lump in your throat and nearly start crying. Today was not your day at all. 

You put the car in park and get out in a rush. Walking towards the back of the car you see a handsome man getting up. 

You hit a person. 

No one was in the mirror!

Where did he even come from? 

“I’m so sorry!” You say with tears falling down your face, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. 

The man looks at you quickly, a concerned frown marring his beautiful face as he rises. 

You take in his looks for a second. He has incredibly pale skin, thin pink lips, an acute nose, sharp cheekbones, and bright green eyes. 

“I am fine, you'd be surprised, it runs in the family.” The man says stepping near you, a hand raised but hesitating to touch you as you cry into your hand. You slightly frown at his remark but it's not enough to fully distract you.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and drop your hand. When you’re settled down enough you talk, looking at him.

“I’m sorry I’m having a really bad day. Are you ok? Do I need to call for an ambulance or anything?” You ask looking him over and seeing nothing wrong but you can never be sure. 

The man smirks, he makes a decision and settles his hand on your shoulder. 

“I am fine. Do not worry. I’m more concerned about you, darling.” 

You give a shaky laugh. “I just hit you with my car and you’re concerned about me? Your priorities are a little messed up I think.” You say as you wipe your tears away.

The man lets out a soft laugh that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. You just happen to see his pearly white teeth flash, two sharp canines but you think nothing of it. 

“Perhaps you can help me rearrange my priorities over a cup of coffee?” The man asks you.

You blush, look down at the ground nervous, but look back at him with a smile. “I would love that. What’s your name?” You ask. 

“Loki.” Loki tells you, letting his hand fall from your shoulder. 

You tell him your name and he says it as if getting used to it on his tongue. 

“Well, I know of a good cafe nearby we could meet at.” Loki tells you.

“Of course, I’ll follow you.” You tell him. 

You’re shocked as Loki grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles.

“I cannot wait to learn more about who you are.” Loki whispers over your knuckles then releases your hand and makes his way to his car. 

You stand there with a smile on your face but quickly jump into your car to follow Loki.

The next time you realize you don’t see Loki in the mirror is months into dating the man. 

You’re at his house, which is sparse of mirrors for some reason. So you pull your compact mirror out and check your make up. 

You open you mouth to yell Loki’s name and turn around to walk to the door since you didn’t see him behind you. 

“Lok-” You grunt when you run straight into Loki’s chest and Loki grabs at your arms before you can fall backwards. Your mirror drops and splinters into shards on the floor.

You look up at Loki shocked. “I didn’t see you, I’m sorry.” 

Loki chuckles. “It is completely fine, darling. I shall buy you another mirror, my apologies.” 

The third time is when you truly notice. After the second time you decided to test your theory out without Loki knowing. It doesn’t go as planned but makes you realize something is wrong.

“Loki! I need a new mirror for my house can we go in here?” You ask as you both pass a Pier 1 Imports store. 

Loki looks at you with a small smile but his eyes try to hide some emotion you haven’t seen before. “You may go in, there’s a shop I need to go to before it closes, we can meet back at the car?” Loki says, leaning down to kiss you when you nod at him. 

You watch as Loki walks away from you and as he passes the mirrors in the store’s display windows you realize his figure doesn’t appear in them. It’s as if no one had walked by at all. You squint at him but go into the store and wander around for a bit thinking since you don’t actually need a mirror. 

There’s only one theory you know of that explains why he wouldn’t show up in mirrors. 

All of a sudden you snicker to yourself, you feel like Bella in Twilight. 

“I know what you are.” You say in a mocking voice and laugh. 

Then you become serious. If he was a vampire where does he get his blood from? How is he able to walk around in the sunlight? How old was he, truly? Why had he not told you yet? 

It’s a few weeks later when you confront Loki about your theory. 

You had given him time to tell you, even had a rousing discussion about vampires hoping maybe he’d tell you he was one, but no such luck. So you decide to bring it up and lay it on the table. 

“Loki, I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Care to fill me in on what it is?” You ask from across the table, lightly, as you both eat. 

Loki looks at you with a cute scrunch of his face in confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” He asks. 

“You have a secret. I’m assuming it’s something dark because you refuse to tell me no matter how many times I give you chances to tell me.” You say, stabbing a piece of chicken with your fork and only looking in Loki’s eyes when you begin chewing.

Loki looks at you with clouds in his eyes. You can see him fighting with himself about telling you. You raise your brow at him and he clears his throat, grabs his plate and stands.

“I believe I shall retire early tonight.” He says in a clipped tone and goes to put his plate up, not at all noticing the disappointment on your face, your shoulders sagging as you look at your food. 

You eat dinner in silence, finishing quickly and making your way to his living room to lay on the couch. 

You lay there for hours staring at nothing, thinking. You don’t notice you’ve dozed off until Loki is picking you up bridal style and bringing you to the bedroom. 

You make a sound as you wake up a bit to which Loki shushes you. 

As he lays you on the bed he rubs a hand over your head and hair, kissing your forehead and saying, “I shall explain everything in the morning, sweetheart.” 

You drift off a few minutes after he says this.

Come morning you notice you’re in one of Loki’s shirts, panties, and nothing else. Your clothes folded neatly and placed on a chair that resides in Loki’s room. Loki is nowhere to be seen. 

When you open his door to peak out of the hallway you smell breakfast. So, you head to the kitchen and find Loki cooking shirtless and in silk pants. 

When he turns to look at you he smiles softly, taking in your form in his clothes. 

“Good morning, darling.”

“Morning!” You quip, walking over to hug Loki from behind. He leans into your touch and sighs. 

When you’re both sitting at the dining room table eating he brings up the taboo topic. 

“I owe you an explanation.” Loki starts, putting down his utensil and rests his hands on the table. His eyes look at his food for a second before raising to meet yours. 

You sit back and wait.

“There is a reason you hit me with your car...” Loki starts a little unsure.

You stay silent. 

“My physical form does not appear in mirrors.” Loki says, his eyes wandering around the room.

He sighs then looks you in the eyes. 

“I’m a vampire.” He says roughly. 

Everything is silent for a few minutes, you hold his eyes the entire time but keep your face devoid of emotions. 

Loki opens his mouth to say something but you interject. “I know.” You say, going back to eating, glancing at what you’re about to eat, but look back at Loki who sits there in shock.

“What?” He asks a little breathlessly. 

“I know.” You state again, “I figured it out that day we were shopping and I told you I needed a new mirror?”

Loki squints at you. “You were testing me.”

You smile a little. “Ya.”

“You smart, little minx.” Loki says in a deep voice, a smirk on his lips. 

Then the smirk falls and he looks unsure of himself. 

“You are not afraid? Afraid that one day I might decide to kill you?” Loki asks carefully.

You frown as you chew on your food. You swallow it before answering. “No? Should I be?” 

“No.” 

“Well, case solved.” 

“Why are you taking this so lightly?” Loki finally asks with a frown.

You smile at him. “I’ve known my theory must be right for weeks now. I’ve had my time to question everything. You’ve never once lifted a finger at me or gave me reason to be scared of you. I do not see you doing it now just because I found out.” You admit. 

Loki hums, looking at you with a guarded look. “And what if I asked to have a taste of you?” 

You smirk at Loki. “I find the idea to leave me a bit bothered...in a good way.” You say the last part quickly. 

Loki chuckles, a hand coming up to rub over his face. “Darling, you said my priorities were skewed, however I think it has been yours all along.” 

You actually laugh at the memories of your first date with Loki. 

“Shut up, you can’t say the thought of drinking from me doesn’t turn on you on a little bit.” 

You smile wide when Loki’s pupils dilate a bit at your words. 

“Shall we, uh, test this out?” You ask shyly, setting your fork down and pushing a lock of your hair behind you ear, nervous.