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barnesafterglow · 2 years

Text

killer

summary: when you meet steve, you don't expect to fall in love, let alone share with him your deepest secret

pairing: pre-serum!steve rogers x vampire!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: honestly pretty soft smut (f receiving oral, unprotected sex, come eating but it's fine), biting (obviously), slightly sub steve, mention of suicidal ideation, me fixing canon bc i can

a/n: this is more plot/feelings than it is filthy smut but i love it anyways. i have 4 other prompts i'm cycling between so i'm hoping to have a couple more done over the course of this week. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed this, every one means a lot to me! (edit to say that while it didn’t inspire the fic, i definitely get killer by phoebe bridgers vibes hence the title)

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You could smell him from blocks away; you always could. It was like every cell in your body was in tune with his. It had been that way since the day you met him.

It was 1943, and you were in charge of taking care of Erskine’s newest candidate. You had seen a handful come and go, all of them eventually proving to be unworthy. But something about Steve Rogers was different. It wasn’t just the pure look of determination on his face the second he stepped into basic training. You could smell the purity rolling off of him in waves. This was a man who was good and true.

Erskine took your word for it; never once in all your years together had you lied to him. Not even when he cornered you in his lab one day - after 30 years of working together - asking why you hadn’t aged a day. You were honest with him, giving the most simple answer: you were a vampire. You had been since long before borders were drawn and humans turned on each other, and you would be until someone drove a stake through your heart. He was deeply interested, asking you questions and seeking the answers to common misconceptions. You were more than happy to share with him. He was one of the very few people you were certain was good.

But Steve Rogers, he really was unlike any person you had ever met before. Sweet, kind, humble. Too humble, in your opinion. The world had beaten him down, and while he would fight tooth and nail for it regardless, he neglected himself and his own worth. You were determined to help him see himself in a new light.

The first time you kissed him, you felt butterflies in your stomach; never in all your centuries had you felt such a thing for anyone. You barely knew him and yet somehow you had known him your whole life.

The first time you fucked him, he melted in your arms. He nearly cried with the overwhelming feeling and worked himself into an asthma attack. You laid with him - the both of you still bare and chilled under the blankets of your cot - rubbing circles into his back until he was calm enough to whisper three little words in your ear. You knew then that if your heart could beat, it would beat for him.

The first time you bit him, you were terrified.

Erskine had finally talked to Steve, told him his plan, and Steve readily agreed. Just as you both knew he would.

The night before, he trembled in your arms, showing you the fear he refused to let anyone else see.

“I know I would die for my country.” He was nothing if not proud of that. “A few months ago, I would have done it without question. Now, all I can think about is you.”

Tears welled in his eyes, as they did in yours. You kissed him softly and sweetly, sitting up with him, moving closer. Just like that, with your foreheads pressed together, you told him your secret.

“I can…I can bite you. Turn you. But I don’t know what effect that will have on the serum. I don’t know what you can survive.”

“I’ll survive anything to be with you.”

You wanted to protest, wanted to tell him that you weren’t worth the possibility of the unknown. But you knew your lover, and the look in his eyes spelled nothing but love and determination.

Who were you to deny him anything?

The two of you were still bare, bodies pressed close in the confined space, and so it wasn’t hard to tilt his head to the left, exposing the beautiful, unmarked skin of his neck.

You licked it teasingly, tasting the salt on his skin and the beating of his pulse underneath. He shivered at the touch, and you knew he was both terrified and excited for what possibilities came next.

Breathing in the sweet smell of his blood, your fangs shone in the pale moonlight, and before he could blink, your teeth sank into Steve’s neck.

You moaned low, keeping him held against you for a handful of seconds. But his own moans were a symphony to your ears. He sung like the angels above he so closely resembled, and when you finally pulled back, you realized he had come all over your thigh. When his eyes finally fluttered open, the shallow breaths deeping out, it took him only moments to apologize.

“Oh god I’m so -” You shushed him before he could get the words out, kissing him like your life depended on it. When you pulled away, a streak of blood marred the beautiful pale skin just above his lips, and you ducked your head once more to taste it.

‘“How do you feel, my love?” you asked him, keeping your hands placed on his face so he wouldn’t try to look away from you.

“I liked it.” His whisper was so low you don’t think you would have heard it if not for your enhanced senses. “I want you to do it again.”

Your brow furrowed. “You only need one bite to turn.”

“I know that, but… I want more.” He swallowed hard, struggling to meet your eyes. “I just want more.”

You nodded knowingly. The thrill of a bite could be exhilarating. Erotic. That didn’t stop you from worrying about him.

“Steve…”

“Please, just give me this.”

And who were you to deny him anything?

Staring deep into his eyes, you caved and nodded. He tilted his neck again, but you took him by surprise when you pushed him down on his back and sunk your teeth into the slight swell of his chest.

He moaned deeply, and you could feel his hardness against you again. In a split second, you were straddling him, rubbing your folds against his length, both of your moans trying to contain themselves to the canvas of the tent around you.

You sunk down onto him slowly - despite his slight stature, Steve Rogers was not small everywhere - until your pelvis was flush against his own and his hands gripped your hips so hard you were afraid the bones might shatter.

When you leaned down to kiss him, you nipped at his bottom lip as you pulled back, drawing the smallest drops of blood.

You started to ride him slowly, rolling your hips to get you both used to the feeling - Steve had gotten better about his breathing in the handful of times you had made love, but you were always so scared after that first time that you couldn’t help but start out easy.

After only a handful of minutes, your movements started to quicken and so did your mouth, Where before you had subdued yourself to playful nips, once he sunk deep into you, you allowed yourself to release some control.

Every slide down of your walls around his cock were enunciated with a bite along Steve’s soft skin. By the time you gained the strength to thrust up into you, he was covered in double crescent moon shapes.

When you clenched around him, close to reaching your peak, you tilted his head to the right and left a twin mark on his neck. His sweet taste pushed you over the edge, and you came with him following right behind you.

And, oh, wasn’t that fantastic. He had never finished inside of you before, always afraid of - on the slight chance he wasn’t infertile - that the two of you would try to bring a baby into a world so unknown. But with that risk gone, you were euphoric with the feel of him coating your walls.

For a few more minutes, you stayed laying on top of him, giving kitten licks to any bites that were still bleeding. When you finally rolled off of him, you expected to feel around for a rag to clean the two of you up, but Steve surprised you by gently pushing you onto your back.

Timidly, he placed tender kisses down your body before settling between your thighs. He looked up at you, eyes boring into your own, and lowered himself to your core.

His tongue swept through your folds, nipping lightly at your clit, and he moaned into you at the taste of himself. He brought both hands - large, gorgeous, artist hands - and spread your lips even more, almost ravenous with the way he swirled his tongue through your mixed releases.

With a harsh suck of your clit, you were falling over the edge again, and he lapped up every drop of you until there was none left.

He crawled up your body again, clearly exhausted, and curled into your side. He whispered a sweet goodnight to you, and was out almost immediately.

You stayed up all night, counting his breaths and making sure his heart continued to beat.

The next morning, Erskine took one look at the marks that could be seen through Steve’s white t-shirt, and ordered everyone but you and Howard Stark - whom Erskine insisted could be trusted with your secret - from the room. The three of you watched as Steve stripped his shirt and stepped into the Vita-Ray Chamber. Your eyes took into the sporadic bite marks across his body, and small smile tugged at your lips despite the pure terror that coursed through your body.

You trusted Erskine’s mind, of course you did, but this was Steve and the thought of something happening to him drove you to pure rage.

Nevertheless, the Chamber closed around him, and the room went silent except for the machine at work.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Chamber opened and through the steam… someone emerged.

He had the same face as your Stevie, but other than that he was like a stranger. Tall and muscled, though he had the same smooth, freckled skin. Skin that no longer wore your marks.

It was a strike to your heart, at first, but a second glance at him spelled one thing: he was healthy.

You couldn’t smell the sickness of his youth anymore, only the scent of a strong man, young and healthy. Still, underneath it all, was the smell of purity that was his and his alone.

He stepped out and his eyes immediately sought you out. And you knew then, even if he was no longer marked by you, he would still be forever yours.

It had been 66 years since you smelled Steve’s sweet scent. He told he loved you one last time before he crashed into the Atlantic and took your unbeaten heart with him to the bottom.

Unable to end your own life, you dedicated every year after to hunting HYDRA. You knew his sacrifice was not the end of their reign, and you tore them down brick by brick. You hoped the end of it was when you ripped Arnim Zola limb from limb and nearly did the same to Peggy Carter for trying to work with him.

You spent the rest of your time with Howard Stark, assisting him in his experiments and even befriending his son from a young age. You helped Tony through his parents’ deaths. A freak car accident, they said - which sounded suspicious to you at first, but after several years of digging into every possible avenue, it truly had just come down to bad brakes and an unlit road. Tony thanked you profusely, his guilt nearly overcoming him at the news because of his rocky relationship with his father, and he offered you his gratitude for making sure he knew the truth.

His gratitude was the reason he called you as soon as he heard the news about Steve at SHIELD.

Steve, your lost love. Steve, the man you thought couldn’t possibly survive almost 70 years buried in ice despite whatever mixture of venom and serum swam through his veins. Steve, who was alive and only a plane ride away.

Suddenly, you were on a sidewalk outside a brownstone in Brooklyn. The kind of place he had told you he dreamed of having on nights when he was especially homesick.

Suddenly, you could inhale and smell the scent of Steve again.

Suddenly, you were knocking on the door, afraid and thrilled of what might come next.

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