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greenbergwrites · 7 months

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I just read your Bucky vampire fic, and oh my gosh, it is SO GOOD. I love Bucky being almost baffled that he's brought Steve to his lair, and Steve seducing Bucky simply by being himself, sweet and innocent and cock-hungry! If you ever decide to write more in that verse, I'd be very excited to read it-- maybe something from Steve's POV, or Bucky getting used to having Steve in his life/space? Or maybe even someone from Bucky's coven finding out that he brought a human home. I love your writing!

I knew I had another vamp!Bucky ask somewhere in the bowels of my inbox.

Anyways!

Part 2 as requested <3 You can find Part 1 here for a refresher.

Something was going on with James.

Natalia couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was that clued her into this. There were no obvious red flags. It was the little things that she couldn’t quite put out other mind.

He had never been a particularly social vampire, but he’d always been around. Lurking in the shadows. Observing. Except no one in the coven had seen him in weeks.

He took her phone calls like always, and nothing seemed amiss during them. Something wasn’t quite right, though. Something wasn’t normal.

It was because of this, and only this, that Natalia slipped into her bloodmate’s lair uninvited. She’d been there before, of course, just as James had been in her own lair. She wasn’t supposed to enter without an invitation, though. No matter how close you were with the vampire in question, entering one’s lair without that invitation was punishable by death. Usually.

Just inside the door, Natalia froze.

Yes, something was most certainly going on with James.

The outer rooms of his lair were lit only by a roaring fire in the hearth. Clothes were strewn about the floor, some pieces intact and others torn beyond recognition or repair. The warm air was thick with the smell of sex and blood.

A slim twink of a young man was passed out on what Natalia knew to be a stylish yet ultimately uncomfortable couch–not that the twink seemed to mind. He was also entirely naked. His body was littered with the bruises of enthusiastic sex and the tell-tale marks of a vampire’s bite.

Many, many bites, by the look of it.

One on his exposed neck, another on his wrist, a line of scrapes along his belly, more bites on the inside of his thigh. There were so many marks, she’d wonder if the boy were drained of his life it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest or the dull throb of his heart in her ears.

Natalia wasn’t naive. She hadn’t been naive even as a human. She knew exactly where she was and what she was looking at and what it meant. For the life of her, she couldn’t comprehend it, though.

There was a human, for pity’s sake.

Before she could make a fuss, James’ familiar voice said, softer than she’d ever heard it, “Don’t. You’ll wake him.”

She looked to the side, where James was coming from the shadows of the hallway with a blanket slung over his arm. He was half-naked, wearing only a pair of wrinkled, unbuttoned slacks slung low on his hips. His bare feet didn’t make a sound as he closed the distance between himself and the sleeping human.

With a gentleness she hadn’t known he possessed, James unfolded the blanket and covered his lover.

The human made an indecipherable noise, stirring until James laid a hand on his head. He leaned down and kissed the human’s temple, settling him with tender touches.

“Sleep, kitten,” he whispered, before bestowing another kiss.

The human rolled onto his side, grabbing James’ hand. A contented little sigh escaped him as he stilled. James watched it all with a disgustingly warm, indulgent expression. He was so soft, looking at the human. Soft in a way she’d never seen before. She hadn’t thought him capable of such softness.

James brought their joined hands to his lips, kissing the humans knuckles before gently laying them back down. He stood slowly, making sure the human was settled before he finally looked at her.

They had known each other for a long time. Lifetimes. The history they shared with sometimes bleak, sometimes dark, and much of it was covered in blood. Still, James had never looked at her the way he did now.

He was wary. Untrusting. Of her.

Without even asking, she knew that look wasn’t because she’d entered his lair uninvited. He wasn’t reacting to that at all.

No, the reason for that look was the sleeping human on the couch.

Natalia scowled.

The things they had endured together, the sins they’d committed, and it was this boy that came between them? This nobody human whose ancestors probably hadn’t even left their homeland when Natalia, James, and their bloodmate, Yelena–all of them centuries old at that point–had killed their maker?

James inclined his head toward the kitchen, bidding her to follow as he walked away. She stalked after him, the anger inside of her only building.

“What,” she hissed, barely containing the question until they were in the other room, “was that?”

She thrust an accusatory finger back toward the living room. Even she didn’t know if the question was about the human or the look he’d given her.

James did not immediately answer. He opened his fridge--that was full of food, now, real human food because there was one in his lair--and began to take out an assortment of fruits.

Putting them on the counter, he opened cabinets and drawers to pull out other things. A cutting board, a knife, a round serving plate divided into sections.

His goal was obvious and for reasons Natalia couldn’t explain, it infuriated her further.

“Did you seriously install a food bank in your lair?” She demanded incredulously, her voice rising despite herself.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been emotional. Of course James would be the one to make her this way. Not even Yelena–the youngest of them and a little sister in every way–could break her composure the way he could.

The air shifted. It was only after Natalia had caught the knife aimed at her head that she registered he’d thrown it. She met his angry gaze, more bewildered than anything else.

When was the last time they’d gone to blows?

“You will not speak of him that way,” James said, slowly and clearly, as he approached her.

He yanked back the knife. She thought about not letting him have it, about turning this into a true fight, but the thought was fleeting. Angry as she was, she didn’t want that. Neither of them did.

As he resumed his task, James added, “He is my mate.”

Some part of her had known that was coming--or something like it, at least--and yet it still blindsided her.

“James,” she said tightly. “Vampires do not mate.”

Not the ones that wanted to remain in polite society, at least. Not openly. Mates were given silly little names apprentices and traveling companions.

Mating was too entwined in the society of their brutish, canine cousins for any self-respecting vampire to ever claim it. If any dared, they were ostracized.

Again, James didn’t deign to answer her. Instead, he methodically began to cut up the fruits he’d set out into perfect bite-sized pieces. Each one was given its own divider on the plate.

He put such care into the making of it. How Natalia wanted to hit him for it.

“The coven won’t allow this,” she said finally, when the silence had gone on too long. “You know they won’t allow it, just as you know they will not allow you to stay if you persist.”

“I don’t care what the coven allows,” James answered. “If they deny my mate, then I will leave.”

Natalia stilled.

“We are their best soldiers,” she said softly. “They respect us. You would throw that away for an infatuation?”

James paused, turning a dark expression her way.

“There is no infatuation,” he said. His voice was just as soft as hers, but there was a dangerous edge to it. “He is my mate. We do not need the coven, Natalia. We have never needed the coven. The coven needs us, and I need him. I will have him. It is the coven’s decision whether our future together includes them.”

Natalia’s lips thinned.

Damnably, of course, he was correct. They didn’t need the coven; they never had.

Their maker had been a powerful, ancient vampire known only as the Skull. His sire–their grandsire–was rumored to have been the First.

Modern fledglings, they were at a disadvantage. Their blood was diluted from generations of siring. The ancients no longer sired as they once had. New vampires made new vampires and because of that, they were weak.

But not the three of them. Not Natalia or James or even Yelena, turned a full century after they’d been. No, their bloodline was short and immaculate. Even as fledglings, they’d held great power.

That power had only grown when their sire, the Skull, had perished. He had been so disappointed with his progeny and their lack of ambition for absolute power. He’d wanted to kill them and begin anew. Instead, the three of them had banded together and killed him.

Upon his death, his power had been transferred to them. Even divided thrice, it was enough to put them at the top of the food chain.

Alone, very few vampires could claim to be a match. But the three of them together? They had no equal.

Their current coven, they’d joined decades ago. They were feared, they were respected, but they were not trusted. Lesser vampires would always see them as a threat–would always assume that they wanted to kill those in charge, take over by force.

Despite those ongoing fears, the coven kept them close. They feared what James or Natalia or Yelena might do, but they still wanted the protection offered by such powerful beings, too.

No, they didn’t need the coven. But walking away would certainly cause problems.

“If you leave,” she pointed out, because she had to, “they might try to kill you.”

It was what lesser beings did. It was the way they thought. Either you were with them or against them, and nobody wanted an enemy so powerful.

James tilted his head in acknowledgement, a little smirk playing at his lips.

“Will you help them?” He asked. “Will Yelena?”

Natalia scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Perhaps, as fledglings, they might have. Old as they were now, there was no question. She trusted no one the way she trusted James and Yelena, and she knew the sentiment to be returned.

“Then I have no reason to fear.”

James dumped his knife in the sink and then picked up the plate he’d prepared. She stepped in front of him before he could leave the kitchen.

“Will you turn him, then?” She asked, because she had to know.

“If that is what he wants,” James said, “then I will do it happily. If not, my blood will keep him by my side. Now step aside and come meet my mate.”

The words hit her like a blow to the gut. He brushed by her, seemingly unaware of how his declaration had frozen her.

My blood will keep him by my side.

So. Not a passing infatuation, then. Not by a long shot. Nothing short of true love would separate a vampire from their blood.

Natalia rubbed her forehead. Vampires couldn’t get headaches, but she was sure one was coming on.

“Alright,” she muttered, mostly to herself. “Let’s meet your mate, then.”

She followed James into the living room.

#nani asks #greenberg replies #vampire bucky #my fics #i know next to nothing about yelena except the black widow movie and a few clips i've seen of hawkeye on tik tok #but somehow it felt like she belonged here #(PS. To the Nani that sent this message: you are wonderful and kind thank you for such nice words <3)

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