Brooklyn has never been a safe place to begin with. Sometimes getting rescued can take you deeper into danger. When the reader finds herself suddenly swept into the secrets of vampires and a pair of crystal blue eyes, she begins to find answers to questions she never thought she would ask.

Pairing: Modern Vampire!Steve Rogers x Reader (Y/N); original villain, appearance by Wanda Maximoff

Warnings/Promises: opening trigger warning for assault (it is unsuccessful), moments of terror, vampires doing vampire things, vampire-related deaths, mentions/descriptions of blood (it is a vamp fic after all), SMUT, oral (female receiving), smut is noted so you can skip it if you’d like

Word Count: 6000 (sorry, not sorry, so much plot!)

Note: Written for @after-avenging-hours August AU Challenge. This is as close to writing horror as I have ever gotten. So be thus warned. On a funnier note, I forgot who I was writing for and had to completely rewrite my outline. (That Vamp!Loki fic might come out at a later date.) It still came out good and I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is super appreciated!

The moment you felt his eyes on you in the diner, your body shivered and filled your bloodstream with adrenaline. Your fingers and toes twitched with the urgency to run. Then you thought it over. You were in a public place. There were several people around, and you could leave when another table did. The idea worked until the party you followed went in the opposite direction from your apartment. Swallowing the dryness in your mouth, you turned towards home a few blocks away.

Your footsteps had an echo.

You looked over your shoulder. There was no one there. By the time you’d walked one block, your heartbeat was louder than your steps and fast enough to sound like running. So you did. You ran.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Three pavement chunks crossed.

Thump. Pat. Thump. Pat. Thump. Pat.

It was harder for your echo to keep up, but he did. A hand snagged your hair and tugged you back into a hard chest. Another hand clamped over your mouth as he dragged you into an alley. The streetlights flashed over the blade that cut through the strap of your purse. Bright teeth smiled, and the knife toyed with the buttons on your shirt. It cut through the top one. With your eyes, you pleaded for mercy.

Over his shoulder, two red lights blinked.

The knife and the smile were gone. You stayed where you were, frozen, as you listened to the scuffle. Somebody thudded into the wall with a groan. Small metal broke on the brick. A larger metal rang as it was picked off the pavement, then jingled as it fell. There was a harsh cry. Then a drowned gurgling.

You squeaked as cold hands tapped at your shoulders. Looking up, the two red lights drained into two blue eyes.

“Are you alright?”

The adrenaline in your system gave up, and darkness rushed up to meet you.

***

Your phone alarm was a rude awakening. It buzzed and fell to the floor, forcing you to crawl out of bed to find it. Officially awake, you took a second to breathe. What a terrible dream. The missing top button said it wasn’t a dream. You shot up. Did your attacker get murdered? Why weren’t you at a hospital? What if your memory was wrong? Were you even attacked? Stretching, you confirmed you had been. The tops of your shoulder blades were sore and you could feel what used to be ragged skin from getting shoved into rough bricks. Who had patched you up?

This was way too much thinking. Especially before coffee.

Groggily you walked to your kitchen, bumping into things that seemed to have shifted overnight. At least your coffee machine was still automatic. The cup seemed unfamiliar, and you weren’t sure why you left it on the counter, but it held coffee just fine. You opened up the fridge for creamer.

There was blood everywhere. Rows and rows of it. Hanging in bags from the racks and from an extra bar on the top. Various types, A+ through O-. And there was a container of creamer, which you hastily grabbed before shutting the door.

You were still dreaming. You had to be. The gurgling. That’s what it was. Way too many movies and then the stress from last night, yep. Your addled brain was making you see things. And the way to prove it was to look again. You took a deep breath and looked again.

Blood packets.

The door shut and opened several times as you tried to bring yourself back to reality.

Coffee. You needed your coffee.

“Don’t drink that.”

With a shriek, you dropped the cup. It never made it to the ground.

A large blond man was before you in a blink, holding your unspilled cup. “It has iron powder in it. Not that it would hurt you, but it probably wouldn’t taste good. At least to you.” The man stepped back and added some sugar to the cup before taking a sip. He reached into another cabinet and pulled out a travel-sized creamer. “Here. Use this, and you can take it home when you leave.”

Home?

Loose ends snapped into place. The things that had shifted overnight were not yours. The cups were in the wrong place. And now that you were paying attention, the walls were a different color and there wasn’t an atom of light coming through the curtains. The fridge. One more thread clicked, and you hastily ran your hands around your neck.

The man chuckled. “I didn’t bite you, don’t worry. I would have taken you home, but I didn’t have your permission to look through your things. Or to enter your place. You passed out before I could ask.”

“Where am I?” Before he could answer, the rest of your questions spilled out. “Who are you? What happened to that guy? When did you patch me up? Are you going to drink me? Am I dreaming?” You let him guide you to a chair and focused on breathing. The man started pouring another cup.

“My name is Steve. You are in my apartment, about twelve hours from when we met. We are across the street from the alley. The man who attacked you has ben taken care of. He’s alive and in jail. I patched you up while watching the police cars through the window. When you didn’t wake up for a while, I almost called the hospital.” He placed the tiny creamer and the bowl of sugar on the table in front of you.

“I don’t blame you for not taking me,” you said, playing with the sugar spoon. “They shouldn’t have had a reason to peek, but your fridge looks incriminating.”

“Thank you. I am not going to bite you. And,” he handed you the cup, “you are not dreaming.” The warmth from your cup and the way it burned our tongue verified his last statement.

Your breathing had eased down to normal. Your heartbeat was approaching sleep-steady. Steve sat across from you and waited patiently. You watched him too. How his eyes didn’t waver under your gaze. Your fear faded away into curiosity. “Am I allowed to ask questions about… being a vampire?”

He nodded. “Of course. Am I allowed to ask your name?”

“Yeah,” you blushed. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Ask away.”

It was the best conversation you think you’d ever had. The books had some correct things but were completely wrong in others. Like Steve couldn’t go out in the daytime. So he had black-out curtains and as a further preventive measure, he painted the glass too. He showed you, pulling back the fabric to reveal pictures rendered in an opaque stained-glass style. If there had been light coming through, you would have believed they came from a church. On the other hand, he was not averse to garlic and used it a lot in his cooking. Neither silver or crosses had any effect on him.

Steve asked you questions too. You told him about your job at the call center for the police station. You had been leaving to enjoy a few days off. He was glad he could help and that he wasn’t costing you your living. You told him about Wanda, your best friend who worked at the station next to yours and about your boss. “She’s not supposed to make us work overtime because of the phycological strain of taking emergency calls. But she’ll squeeze in an extra hour or two and guilt us out of overtime pay. One of these days the regional manager is going to show up and probably fire her. Unless she grovels her way out of it.” When you told him about your kickboxing lessons, he wasn’t as surprised as you were that you froze.

“If you need someone to practice with and gain the muscle memory that you need, let me know.”

It was dark again by the time the conversation puttered out. You were tired, and Steve had noticed. He offered to walk you home. At the main door to his apartment complex, you had to laugh. Across the street and one building over was your apartment complex. You invited him up.

“If you promise not to bite me.”

Steve smirked. “I won’t. Unless you ask me nicely.”

***

“Wanda, you should see this guy.” You flipped through your phone for pictures. It had been a couple of weeks but still, Steve kept checking up with you. “He walks me home from night shifts, so I feel safe.”

She hummed appreciatively at a picture you took of the two of you on the fire escape. “And you kept him a secret for this long because…?”

Oh, so many reasons. “I didn’t want you to freak out. And I wasn’t expecting him to stick around this long.” You hissed as she elbowed your ribs.

“McCready alert,” she whispered. You both lowered your heads and focused on your lunch. Still, your boss came over.

She tsked. “Hurry it up, ladies. Chatting is for once you’ve left the building. And Y/N, put your phone away. I know it’s lunch, but it’s still the tax payer’s time.” She waited for your ‘yes ma’am’ then turned on her heel and left to fret over another group of workers.

You and Wanda leaned back in your chairs. “I can’t wait until management gets wind of this,” Wanda moaned.

“Wait. You did it? You actually did it?”

She gave you a mischievous smirk. “Had to sneak my phone for a video of her pressuring Maria last week, but yes. The email has been sent. There are multiple copies of evidence. We should be rescued any day now.” You gave her a tight hug before going back to work.

The day turned sour after that.

“Yes, Ma’am, help is on the way.” You switched over to a cop ready for dispatch and told him the address. “Another body. Same as the others. Bloodless and with a punctured neck.” That was the third call of it’s kind that day. By the time you were about clock out, there had been three more. But the last person who was called in had survived. And they were still lucid as they were being strapped to the gurney. Which of course was caught on camera by every news station in the city.

The man’s eyes were glassed over with newly formed cataracts. “But I saw him. Big. Broad shouldered. His skin was cold as ice.” He reached out and grabbed at a first responder. “And his eyes. Red as a sunrise. He caught me in those and then I couldn’t see anything.” The doors closed and the sirens ended the video.

Steve was waiting for you in the lobby when you got off. “I know. I heard.” He waited until you were out in the street away from the last people going home before continuing. “It wasn’t me. These attacks happened during the day.” He took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “There’s another vampire in Brooklyn.”

He was forced to stay in as the attacks continued; you stayed with him every night.  Six more each day and there were no other survivors. Even the guy in the hospital died. Some reports said from his wounds. One report you overheard in the break room from the case detective said that he was found with two more holes in his neck. Whoever was doing this had come back to finish the job.

By the fifth day, Steve was weak. He could barely walk from his bedroom to the kitchen. The once eerily stocked fridge was depleted to only a few bags. Rationing them wasn’t working. And worse: because the blood wasn’t flowing, not alive, if the attacks went on much longer he was going to have to go out and hunt. And possibly get caught in the frenzy.

He chuckled as you dabbed his clammy skin with a damp towel. “I can’t starve to death, one of the perks of being immortal. But this isn’t even as bad as when I was holed up during the Jack the Ripper Scare.” You sat back on your haunches and squinted at him. “Fine. I wasn’t around back then.” He looked less in pain while he was talking, so you tried to keep it going.

“When did you turn… get turned?”

“World War Two. I was a skinny kid and couldn’t get into the army. A doc caught me lying on my papers and told me about an experiment he was running. I showed up and he injected me with something blue. Didn’t find out until later that it was vampire blood.”

“Blue?”

“Yeah. Confused me too. Vampires can’t make their own iron, so our blood doesn’t oxidize when it makes contact with air. When we… feed… the iron we ingest flows through our bloodstream like anybody else. That’s what’s so confusing about these attacks. Feeding on people should only give them anemic qualities for a few days. But they have been completely drained.” He gasped and sank further into the pillows. “We only tested with so much. Maybe if they had made me drink more I would know enough to help.” He hissed and grit his teeth and you reached forward to use the towel again. He grabbed your wrist. You couldn’t help but notice the purple back-hue to his eyes as his thumb traced over your veins on your wrist.

You leaned closer. “What? You gettin’ hungry?”

“Don’t tempt me, doll.”

You bit your lip. “What if I want to tempt you?” He let go of your wrist and guided it to your lap. “Really. I hate seeing you like this. Please.” You kissed his forehead. “Let me help.” He shuddered a breath as you nosed across his cheekbones. “Steve, please.”

Next thing you knew, you were on your back. Steve’s eyes were dark and focused. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t take much, but I don’t want to hurt you.” He groaned as you turned your head, giving him access to your neck.

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you.”

He nodded and took a deep breath, gazing at your exposed neck. His eyes glazed over with the same red hue you saw all those nights ago. Your breath caught in your throat as his lips made contact with your skin. He chuckled as your heart rate increased. He nipped at you, just enough with his sharp teeth to allow the tiniest amount of blood to well to the surface.

“Last chance,” he said, his voice an octave lower.

“Yes.”

{Smut Starting}

You gasped. Because of the placement, it felt like any other hickey. It made your skin flush and goosebump. As he kept going, time slowed. His words muttered against your skin sounded like he was yards away in an echoing tunnel.

“You taste so good, Y/N. Makes me wonder what the rest of you tastes like.” He moaned as you gripped his biceps. “Would you like that? Hmm? Me taking all of you. Your blood, your essence, your pleasure.” He inhaled and kissed across your collarbone to the other side of your neck. “If you have an answer, best make it now.”

“Please, Steve,” your breath hitched as he ran his teeth over your shoulder. “Please.”

He pulled back. His cheeks had a rosy hue that contrasted with the dark lust in his eyes. “No tricks, no powers. Do you want this?”

“Yes.” You pulled him down for a kiss. The shirt you had bundled in your fists was tossed away, giving you access to so much skin to touch and admire. He rid you of your clothes too, shredding them. You got rid of your bra yourself.

Steve wasn’t focused on your chest once he had your shorts off. Your thighs were parted wide as they could go. He nipped up and down your stomach, not breaking your skin, before nosing down your thighs. “I hope you like to scream, Y/N. I like my meals vocal.” He caught your gaze. The comparison hit you. The way his eyes hovered between red and blue reminded you of a night sky at its darkest right before the dawn. Satisfied that he had your attention, he began to suck hungrily at your sex. Indeed, you did scream. You would have screamed down the stars if he had just. Let. You. Reach. That. Peak.

You were panting. Eyes glazed and unseeing besides your focus on him. Your nails lightly scratched at his scalp, making him grunt. You were shivering too.

“’bout ready to cum, baby doll?” he joked, taking a breather to mouth at your inner thigh. It made him laugh when you couldn’t form the words, insisting instead by furiously nodding your head. You arched back into the pillows as his hand sank down and a finger curled through your folds. “That’s it, doll. Let me take it all.” He added a second and set his mouth against you again. Your body was quivering on the edge until he sucked down on your clit. While you were falling apart, you could hear him lapping up everything.

His hands, cool against your passionate heat, moved up your body, followed by the rest of him. You reached for his belt buckle and found it missing. Instead, your hands wrapped around his length. It was your turn to toy with him now. Each stroke and twist made him hoarsely moan and gasp.

With a broken chuckle, you reached lower and tightened your grip at the base of his cock. “’bout ready to come, baby?”

He batted your hands away and pinned your wrists above your head with a smirk. He mouthed at the valley of your breasts, then moved up to lave at your nipples. You writhed in his grasp. “Not so cheeky now, huh?” He moved to your other breast, making you mewl under his ministrations. Shifting his grip, he held your wrists in one hand. With the other free, he traced it down your face, pushing your hair out of the way, and then to his bite. You shuddered as he touched it and kept trembling as he continued down your body. He teased his head at your entrance, coating his length in your slick. He captured your lips in his, delightedly swallowing your scream as he bottomed out in one thrust.

Steve fought to control his breathing as your walls welcomed him in. His grip faltered, and he had to brace on either side of you. You kept your arms up. Ready, you started the rolling pace. He moved with you, easing you into something faster and breathing hotly on your neck. He brought his face nose-to-nose with yours and thrust faster. Harder. Until you were seeing stars.

“Steve-“

“I’m right behind you, doll. I’m right. There.” He reached for your clit again. “Let me hear you, Y/N.”

You weakly cried out as your toes curled. It turned into a scream as Steve bit down on your neck as he came. Your vision blanched. He fell to one side, chest heaving. Not that you could catch your breath either.

{Smut Ended}

Faintly, you could feel his lips at your neck again, his tongue running over your punctures. “They’ll be gone in a few minutes.” He sank back into the pillows and pulled your hand onto his chest.

For once, Steve’s skin was warm under your touch. You hummed and snuggled closer to him while you dragged your fingers up and down his chest. Your mind turned on again, against your will.

“Have you loved before?” you asked.

His chest rose and fell deeply. “Yes.” You paused to let him continue if he wanted to or to change topics. “Her name was Peggy. Back during the war. Soft hair. Powerful brown eyes with legs for days. And British. She kept them from putting me in an early version of cryo. Helped me escape too when they wanted to keep using me for spy missions.” His Adam apple bobbed in his throat. “She wouldn’t let me turn her.” He said it without malice or blame, but you could hear the hurt. “We were married, but eventually I had to tell people I was her son.”

You knew the answer but hoped that you could be wrong. “Where is she?”

“Back in the UK. She left in her sleep. Peaceful. As it should be.” He placed his hand over yours on his chest. “I’ll always have her. And you will always have me.” He kissed the top of your head and held you as you fell asleep.

***

As suddenly as the attacks started, they stopped. The public was on edge, but they were comforted by the usual crime documentary idea that serial killings stop because something happened to the murderer. The cops in the precinct were not comforted. It made everybody snappy. Broken pencils. Slammed drawers. And shouted statements that could have been said normally. The only person seemingly unaffected was your boss. She fluttered her hands to get the incoming floor’s attention.

“Good morning to you all. Today is going to be like any other day. Except that we will have a visitor.” She turned and gestured to a man standing so still you hadn’t realized he was there. “This is Mr. Sorin Vladimirescu. He will be observing our process and asking a few of you some questions.” She chuckled nervously. “I know you all will be honest.” Her wristwatch chimed. “And that’s the bell. To your stations everyone.”

You and Wanda giggled as the man gently ordered McCready to her office. Someone must have also given him the heads up how cold they kept the building because he was wearing a dark grey peacoat and matching gloves. His long dark hair swept over his shoulders and was tied back from his face. You looked back at your desk before you were caught looking at his light hazel eyes.

“Handsome too,” Wanda whispered before putting on her headset.

The only person you noticed he took away for questions was the newer girl. Her usual nervousness was replaced by calm ease with just a smile and firm but welcoming handshake. It was about another half an hour before he made it to your and Wanda’s side of the floor.

“You must be Y/N,” he said once you’d turn your station off. “I’ve heard from just about everyone how level-headed you were last week during all those attacks. I listened to some of the recordings myself, and I have to agree.” He smiled and caught your gaze. It was almost impossible to look away except you had to blush. “I was wondering if you could have a longer private chat about helpful calming techniques I could pass along. If that isn’t to forward?” Nothing else came to mind except a yes. “Perfect. I will see you at the end of your shift then.”

Once he had shifted his attention, you shook your head. The front of your head hurt. You must have been staring at the screen too long and didn’t realize the damage until your eyes got a rest. Stealing a glance you noticed he was now talking with Wanda. You didn’t mind resting your eyes on him.  

“Thank you for blowing the whistle,” he told Wanda, giving her the same intense look. “I have learned many things today. Because you stepped up, a lot of your coworkers are going to be better off.”

Wanda beamed under his praise. She shared a giggle with you once he had left. Neither of you could help but watch his retreating form before turning your stations back on.

***

The taxi Sorin had hailed pulled up to the door of one of the nicer hotels in the city. He walked around and offered you his arm to lead you into the building. The doorman greeted you both and encouraged you to enjoy your stay. Sorin kept his hand on the small of your back all the way to the door of his room.

“I took the liberty of having an evening dress brought for you.” He guided you into the suite and shut the door to give you some privacy.

On the bed was a white gown with drooping sleeves rimmed in delicate lace. It was fastened with a belt around your waist and fit you perfectly. Touching your bare throat, you took your grandmother’s necklace and matching bracelet from your purse. Jewelry was discouraged at work, but you usually forgot that until you were at the door. The chain and pendant matched nicely.

Sorin smiled and took your hand in his still gloved one. “Lovely. Shall we?” Dinner was brought to the room. He finally shed his jacket and gloves before pushing in your chair. The staff stayed and served each delicious course. They left after dessert, dimming the lights even lower on the way out. He reached out for your hand then jerked it back. “That is a lovely bracelet. Looks like silver.” He smiled roughly and took your other hand to lead you to the window seat.

“About keeping calm,” you started.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get to that in a minute, dear. Tell me about yourself. Do you have anyone waiting for you at home? We’d hate to keep them up.” When a name didn’t come to mind, he scooted closer and pushed your hair out of your face to get a better view of your eyes. The light kiss to your lips was cold and hesitant. He breathed hard as he moved closer to your neck. “Y/N, would you mind removing your necklace? We don’t want it to get in the way.”

Your necklace? It hadn’t been in the way when… Steve.

“Steve,” you whispered. You said his name again, louder, as your mind slowly became your own. Sorin grabbed for the back of your neck when you jumped off the seat. With a shout, he let go and pulled his steaming hand to his chest.

The front door shook on its hinges. It shattered completely and Steve fell through. He was breathing hard. His eyes were a pale pink. Two steps in he fell to his knees. Strong hands on your shoulders kept you from rushing to his side.

“This? This is Brooklyn’s protector?” Sorin scoffed. “I’d heard stories. The soldier. Defender of the innocent and damnation for the wicked. I would have thought there were plenty of corrupted souls to feed on. And yet here you are. Starving.”

Steve struggled to his feet, bracing on the table. “I only take what I need.”

“All you take is their iron.” Sorin shifted his grip to your waist, wrapping his arms around and pulling you close. “I take it all. It’s not like they are going to need it. Iron, calcium, all the nutrients in their soon-to-be-dead body.”

“Cataracts,” you whispered. You shivered as he kissed the side of your face.

“Beautiful and brilliant. Yes. Sucking the nutrients out of someone has the effect of sucking out a lifetime. The fear in their eyes ages them. And then they die.”

“It’s a waste of life.” Steve tried to step towards you, but Sorin growled over your shoulder.

You licked your lips. “Why waste the life? Why not only do half, then let them heal and do it again? Then you’d have an endless supply.”

Sorin laughed and started dancing around the room with you at a frenzied pace you stumbled to keep up with. “Darling, we are immortal! Your lives are like blips of light to us. What is one more snuffed out now and then? The world does not miss them for long.” He grinned, spinning you and making you scream. “But it’s not a perfect life. I enjoy the finer things of this world. Thankfully, if you drink with the right people, sometimes they lead you to the right people to drink.”

Shivering, you tried to distract him. “Mercenary?” You cried out as he tightened his arm on your lower back. As if to crush your spine.

“You could call it that. I don’t curve my appetites to teaching the unwanted about life. Not that I’m paid to. And then there are the wives. The widows. The ones who have read to many romance novels. I save their souls when I deny them immortality.” He looked straight into Steve’s furious gaze. “Can you say the same?”

“Let her go.” Steve’s eyes were dangerously red now.

Your captor feigned thought. “Um… no. I don’t think I shall.” With a hiss, he yanked your necklace from your neck and leaned for your neck. The second his tongue ran over your skin, he jolted away. Freed, you ran to Steve and helped support him. Sorin’s eyes flashed crimson as he observed your body. “Ah, I see it now. You’ve claimed her.” He shrugged. Unbothered. “No matter. There is another.” He looked pointedly at you, then turned and crashed through the window.

***

The jab about ‘another’ made your blood run cold. There were two options, but the way he had looked at you could only mean one. Then when Wanda wouldn’t answer her phone, you descended into the panic that had been absent in your own encounter. Presently, you were sitting shotgun in a borrowed sports car. The owner, a very unlucky shark that Steve routinely caught frisking frat boys for imaginary debts, had been dropped off in the emergency room.

“Turn here.”

Wanda’s apartment building loomed. Having given Steve permission to enter, you raced up to her apartment, hoping Sorin’s head start wasn’t enough. You used your key copy to enter the door.

She was arched against the ceiling. Her mouth was opened for a body-wracking scream, one that you couldn’t hear. Her eyes were clamped shut. Every half-blink you could make out a swirling red mist surrounding her body, holding her in place, coursing through her.

Sorin sat calmly on the couch.

“Ah, you made it. Just in time to see the finale.”

At his words, Wanda fell to the floor. You moved to help her, but Steve held you back. She clawed at the carpet, her nails unnaturally long and sharp. You gasped as she saw you for the first time.

Wanda’s eyes were blood red.

She coughed. “What did you do to me?” An aftershock made her moan and roll onto her back.

“I saved you. From the march of time that tramples the best of flowers.” Sorin observed his nails as they lengthened to sharp points. “Is that going to be a problem, soldier?”

“Yeah,” Wanda said, wobbling to her feet and running her tongue over her new teeth, “it is. Take it back.” Her voice wavered. “Take it back.”

Sorin came to stand before her. He took her hands and kissed them. “Why would I want to do that? Think about it, darling.” He placed a finger on her lips before she could speak. “Eternity is slow at times, but you can enjoy every moment. Every sunrise. Every soft snow.”

“Then do it yourself,” she spat. “Why do you need me? How did you do this to me and how to you undo it?”

“It’s a lonely life, darling. And painful if done incorrectly. Ask the soldier. To make a bride?” He clicked his tongue and smiled, baring his teeth. “That takes a bit extra. Six days of six full feedings. A beautiful night under an empty moon. Sharing my gift.” He trapped her close to his body. “Even though you are only halfway done, it cannot be undone. There is only one last step to making you mine. And then… eternity carries on.” For a moment he leaned towards her mouth, then with a growl, he turned to look at you and Steve. “I do not wish an audience.”

Steve’s eyes flickered, and he moved you behind him. “Then you’re gonna have to kick us out.”

Sorin pushed Wanda to one side. “So be it.”

They leapt at one another, colliding and twisting mid-air. The slashes they made at each other healed quickly like zippers closing over the wounds. You and Wanda ran from one side of the room to the other as furniture was broken and holes punched into walls. The longer the fight went on, the longer it took Steve to heal. Sorin threw him into the support wall, chuckling as Steve sank to the floor. He pinned him to there, one hand around his throat and the other tense above his heart. Steve gave a shout. He fought against the hand caged over his heart, but the fight and the lack of oxygen were making him weak. Sorin wearied of his attempts. You winced as Steve bounced off the floor.

“Is this enough? This pitiful life you have chosen?” Sorin stepped onto Steve’s chest and pressed until you heard a slight crack. “You only take what you need, so you have the advantage over silver and the like. But I am stronger. I can go out in the light, feed whenever I want to. There is only a short time until the sun rises. My bride and I will be immune. But you? You will scream and smoke and disintegrate into unholy ash. Is that what you want your lover to see? It must be, for your death is imminent.”

“Do you always talk in paragraphs?”

Sorin spun to the source of your voice. Right into your fist wrapped around your grandmother’s necklace. He let out an unearthly scream and twisted away. Into Wanda’s path. Her eyes were an even fiercer red. When her long nails sank into his throat his cry gurgled in his throat. She kept digging and pulling. “Now, Y/N.” You tossed her the chair leg that had been broken during the fight. She looked into Sorin’s eyes, freezing him in place as she used her weapon. He shuddered as the air left his body. Around the wound, cracks formed and crumbled away until there was nothing left of Sorin Vladimirescu.

Wanda sank to her knees. Waiting. Looking at her hands she was surprised when they didn’t fade to dust as well.

“He didn’t make you his,” Steve said, sitting with his back against the wall. “You are your own vampire. Immortal outside of his power.”

She leaned into you as you kneeled and kept her from tipping over. “What do I do now? I don’t know anything about this except from fiction.” Her body shivered in your arms. You sent a look to Steve. Pleading. He nodded in agreement.

“You can stay with Y/N and I. I have the journal I kept when I was turned. It’s not perfect, but it might be the best base-line we have.”

Nodding, Wanda sat up straighter. “Okay. I might call my brother too. Pietro. Though, if you don’t mind, we might get a different apartment close to yours. We don’t want to be wholly in the way.”

You smiled. “I think the apartment right above us just opened up. I’ll give the landlady a call.”

While Wanda went to gather a few overnight/overday things, Steve met you in a reassuring kiss. He hummed against your forehead. “So. Does this mean you are moving in with me?”

“I guess so.”

“For how long?”

There was more to that question than the surface. You took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to turn me. I don’t want to put you through the pain you went through with Peggy again either, but…” You sighed and hugged him close. “I’m afraid even of the idea of eternity. All I want is to love you for as long as I live.”

He breathed deep, letting it out slow. “Then I’ll be here. For as long as you live. And I’ll love you forever.” He kissed the top of your head. “I promise.”

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