What Lurks in the Pines
Vampire Bucky x Reader
Summary - Lost in the woods during a storm, you stumble into the cabin of a vampire who hasnât fed in far too long. Determined not to hurt her, he fights his instinctsâuntil her blood proves different, stronger, impossible to ignore. As danger closes in from outside and his control begins to crack, staying alive might mean trusting the one thing that should want her dead.
Warnings - Vampire!Bucky au, dark Bucky, blood/graphic description of blood, hunger/feeding instincts, loss of control, predatory behaviour (non human), stalking/hunting, violence, physical fighting, injury (head injury/bleeding) implied sexual tension (non explicit) panic/fear, isolation/trapped in a cabin vibe, dark atmosphere, predator v protector, touch starved Bucky, mutual tension, slow burn, heâs trying not to hurt her, protective Bucky, mentions of period blood, murder.
Writers notes - No proof read or word count, this is a different type of writing for me, I donât read Vampire fics dunno where this came from just popped in my head! It is quite long grab a snack!
The woods felt wrong the moment you stepped into them.
Too quiet. Too still. Even the air felt heavy, like it was watching you.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing back the way you cameâbut the path was gone. Just trees. Endless, dark trees.
âGreat,â you muttered under your breath. âLost. Perfect.â
A branch snapped somewhere behind you.
You froze.
âHello?â Your voice came out smaller than you meant it to. âIs someone there?â
Silence.
Thenâanother sound. Closer.
Your heart started pounding as you turned slowly, every instinct screaming at you to run, but your legs refused to move.
A figure stepped out from between the trees.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in dark clothes that seemed to swallow what little light filtered through the canopy. His hair brushed his shoulders, damp as if heâd been standing in the rain long before it started.
His eyes caught yoursâand for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
âAre you lost?â he asked, voice low, calm⌠too calm.
You swallowed. âYeah. IâI canât find the trail. Do you know how to get out of here?â
He studied you for a long second. Not just lookingâassessing. Like he was trying to decide something.
Then he nodded. âYou shouldnât be out here alone.â
A strange chill crawled up your spine.
âI wasnât planning to be,â you said, attempting a nervous laugh. âI just⌠wandered off.â
His gaze lingered on you again. This time, it felt sharper. Hungrier.
Before you could question itâ
Thunder cracked overhead.
You flinched as the sky opened, rain pouring down in seconds, soaking you to the bone.
âCome on,â he said, already turning. âMy place is nearby.â
You hesitated.
Every horror story youâd ever heard flashed through your mind.
Strange man. Woods. Isolated house.
But another crack of thunder shook the sky, and the rain turned freezing.
You didnât really have a choice.
âOkay,â you said quickly, hurrying after him.
â
His house appeared out of nowhere.
One moment, just treesâand the next, a dark, old cabin sat between them, barely visible through the rain.
No lights.
No sound.
No sign anyone else had ever been there.
Your stomach twisted.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside without looking back. After a second, you followed.
The inside was dim. Sparse. No electricityâjust candles already lit, flickering like theyâd been waiting.
âHowâŚâ you started, then stopped yourself.
He moved across the room with quiet, unnatural grace, grabbing a towel and tossing it to you.
âDry off.â
âThanks,â you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
You stood there awkwardly, dripping onto the wooden floor, suddenly hyper-aware of everything.
The silence.
The darkness.
Him.
He was watching you again.
Not your face.
Lower.
Your stomach dropped.
âUmâŚâ You tightened your grip on the towel. âListen, I really appreciate the help, butâŚâ
He tilted his head slightly.
âAre you going to hurt me?â
For a second, the room went completely still.
Thenâ
He laughed.
It wasnât loud. Not cruel.
But it wasnât normal either.
âNo,â he said, stepping a little closer. âIf I wanted to hurt you⌠I wouldnât have brought you inside.â
That didnât make you feel better.
Not even a little.
Another step.
Your breath hitched.
Something had changed.
His expression was tighter now. Controlled. Like he was holding something back.
âYouâre bleeding,â he said quietly.
âWhatâ? No, Iâm notââ
But even as you said it, you realised - your period
And the way his eyes darkenedâ
Oh.
Oh.
You took a step back. âItâs justâ itâs nothing, Iââ
âI know what it is,â he said.
His voice had dropped lower now. Rougher.
Hungrier.
Your heart slammed against your ribs.
âHow?â you whispered.
He inhaled slowly.
Too slowly.
Like he was savoring the air.
âI can smell it.â
Your stomach flipped.
Every instinct in your body screamed at you now.
Run.
âHey,â you said shakily, backing toward the door. âYou said you wouldnât hurt meââ
âI wonât,â he snapped.
The word came out sharper than before.
He froze, like he surprised himself.
Then he dragged a hand through his hair, turning away from you.
âYou need to stay back,â he muttered. âIâm trying⌠not to lose control.â
Your breath came fast now. âLose control of what?â
He didnât answer.
Slowly, he turned his headâand when he looked at you againâ
His eyes werenât the same.
Darker.
Glinting.
Something not human flickering behind them.
And when he spokeâ
âYou really shouldnât have come here.â
Your pulse roared in your ears.
ââŚWhat are you?â
A long pause.
Then, very quietlyâ
âA mistake.â
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room for just a secondâ
And you saw it.
The sharp edge of fangs.
Gone as quickly as it appeared.
You stumbled back, hitting the door. âYouâreââ
âYes.â
The word landed heavy.
Final.
Your hand fumbled for the handle behind you, but he moved fasterâappearing between you and the exit before you could even blink.
You gasped, pressing yourself against the wood.
âI said I wouldnât hurt you,â he murmured, voice strained, like every word cost him something. âAnd I meant it.â
âThen let me go,â you whispered.
He closed his eyes.
For a second, you thought he might.
That maybe this was some twisted misunderstanding.
But then he inhaled againâ
And his jaw clenched hard.
âYou donât understand,â he said, barely holding it together. âYouâre standing in a room with something thatâs starving⌠and you smell likeââ
He cut himself off, taking a sharp step back.
Like he was afraid of himself.
âIâm trying,â he said, almost to himself.
Your fear flickeredâjust slightlyâinto something else.
He hadnât touched you.
Hadnât even tried.
Despite⌠everything.
âThen keep trying,â you said softly.
He looked at you, something conflicted flashing across his face.
âYou should hate me,â he said.
âI donât even know you.â
Another pause.
The storm raged outside, thunder shaking the walls.
Inside, the tension was worse.
Finally, he movedâslowly this timeâstepping away from the door.
Giving you space.
âIâll take you out of the woods when the storm stops,â he said quietly. âUntil then⌠stay as far away from me as you can.â
You didnât move.
Didnât run.
Even though you could.
âOkay,â you said.
He nodded once, turning away again, shoulders tense like he was fighting a battle you couldnât see.
And for the rest of the night, you stayed on opposite sides of the roomâ
Listening to the storm.
And to the sound of something dangerousâŚ
Choosing not to be.
â
The storm didnât let up.
If anything, it got worse.
Rain hammered against the cabin like it was trying to get in, wind howling through the cracks in the walls. The candles flickered violently, shadows stretching and twisting across the room.
And himâ
He was unraveling.
He told you his name. Bucky hadnât looked at you in what felt like forever. He stood on the far side of the cabin, one hand braced against the wall, head lowered, breathing slow and controlledâtoo controlled.
Like if he slipped for even a second, something bad would happen.
You tried to stay still. Quiet. Small.
But the silence between thunderclaps made everything louder.
His breathing.
Your heartbeat.
The distance.
Your fingers fidgeted nervously, picking at the skin around your nailâsomething to distract yourself, something to doâ
Untilâ
ââshit,â you whispered.
A sharp sting.
A tiny bead of red welled up at your fingertip.
You didnât even think about it.
Not at first.
But he did.
He went completely still.
Not tense.
Not strained.
Just⌠still.
Like the world had stopped.
Slowlyâtoo slowlyâhis head lifted.
You felt it before you saw it.
That shift.
That pull.
âDonât,â you said quickly, instinctively closing your hand.
Too late.
He inhaled.
And the sound that left himâlow, unsteadyâsent a chill straight down your spine.
âThatâs⌠different,â he murmured.
His voice wasnât the same anymore.
You swallowed. âItâs nothing. Just a cutââ
âNo.â His head tilted slightly, eyes locked on you now. Darker. Focused. âNo, thatâs notââ
He took a step forward.
Then stopped himself like heâd hit an invisible wall.
His jaw clenched.
âWhy does it smell like that?â he asked, more to himself than you.
You didnât have an answer.
But you could feel it too nowâthe shift in the room.
The tension had changed.
This wasnât just hunger anymore.
This was something sharper.
Pulling.
âYou should stay back,â he said, but the words lacked the force they had before. Like he didnât entirely mean them.
Or didnât want to.
Your heart was racing nowâbut not just from fear.
You looked at your finger.
Then at him.
He hadnât hurt you.
Hadnât even come close.
Even now, he was fighting it.
Fighting himself.
Slowly, cautiously, you stepped forward.
âHey,â you said softly.
His head snapped up. âDonât.â
But you didnât stop.
âItâs just blood,â you said, even though you both knew it wasnât. âYouâre in control, right?â
His expression twisted. âYou donât understand what youâre saying.â
âThen help me understand.â
Another step.
Now you were too close.
You could see the tension in every line of his body, the way his hands flexed like he didnât trust them, the way his eyes kept flickering to your handâ
âI can hear your pulse,â he said quietly. âI can feel it.â
âThen donât lose control.â
Your voice was softer now. Steadier than you felt.
You lifted your hand slightly.
Not forcing.
Just⌠offering.
His reaction was immediate.
He backed up a step like youâd burned him.
âNo.â
But his eyes didnât leave your finger.
âYou need it,â you said.
âI donât take from people.â
âYouâre not taking,â you whispered. âIâm giving.â
The storm roared outside.
Inside, everything held still.
For a long moment, he didnât move.
Didnât breathe.
Thenâ
Slowlyâ
He stepped forward.
Every movement was careful. Measured. Like he was walking a line that could snap at any second.
âLast chance,â he said, voice low, rough. âTell me to stop.â
You didnât.
You just nodded once.
That was all it took.
His hand came upâhesitant at firstâhovering near yours like he was afraid to touch you.
Then his fingers closed gently around your wrist.
Cold.
So cold it made you shiver.
He paused there, eyes searching yours one last time.
And thenâ
He leaned in.
The moment his lips brushed your skin, everything changed.
Not sharp.
Not violent.
Careful.
Controlled.
But the second he tasted your bloodâ
He froze.
A quiet, broken sound left him.
And then he lost ground.
Not completelyâbut enough.
His grip tightened just slightly, breath hitching as if something in him had snapped awake.
Like your blood wasnât just feeding himâ
It was doing something else.
âGodââ he whispered against your skin.
You felt itâthe shift in him. The way his control wavered, then strained back into place like it was barely holding.
It only lasted a few seconds.
Maybe less.
But when he pulled away, it was abrupt.
Like heâd forced himself to stop.
He stumbled back from you, releasing your wrist instantly, staring at you like he didnât recognize what had just happened.
âWhat⌠was that?â he asked hoarsely.
You swallowed, your pulse still racing. âI donâtââ
âThatâs not normal.â He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing now. âThatâs notâ Iâve fed before, I know what itâs supposed to feel likeââ
He stopped.
Looked at you again.
Something like realizationâfearâsettled in.
âThat wasnât just hunger.â
Your stomach dropped. âThen what was it?â
His voice came quieter now.
Worse.
âNeed.â
The word hung between you.
Heavy.
Unsettling.
He shook his head immediately, like he could undo it. âNo. No, thatâs notââ
But even as he said it, his eyes flickered back to you.
To your hand.
To you.
And the way his expression tightenedâ
Horrified.
âI shouldnât have done that,â he said. âI shouldnât haveââ
He backed away further, putting distance between you again like beforeâbut now it felt different.
Not just to protect you.
To protect himself.
âBecause now,â he said quietly, voice rough with something dangerously close to panic, âI donât know if I can stop wanting it.â
The silence after his confession stretched thin.
I donât know if I can stop wanting it.
It lingered in the air between you, heavier than the storm, heavier than the fear.
You flexed your fingers slightly, still feeling the ghost of his grip, the cold of his skin, the way he had reacted.
Not just hunger.
Something worse.
Something deeper.
And thenâ
A different kind of discomfort hit you.
Subtle at first.
Then not.
Your stomach tightened as reality crashed back in, grounding you in something painfully normal compared to everything else.
You shifted your weight, glancing down for a second before looking back up at him.
ââŚHey,â you said, a little awkwardly.
He didnât answer right away. He was still watching youâbut more carefully now. Warier. Like youâd become something unpredictable.
âI, umâŚâ You cleared your throat. âI need to use the bathroom.â
His expression didnât change.
âBathroom?â he repeated, like the word didnât quite register.
âToâchange,â you said, quieter now. âMy pad.â
The reaction was immediate.
His jaw tightened.
âNo.â
You blinked. âNo?â
âYou canât,â he said, sharper this time.
A flicker of irritation cut through your nerves. âI canât just notââ
âYou donât understand,â he interrupted, running a hand through his hair again, pacing once before stopping. âYou canât leave blood here. Not like that.â
You stared at him. âItâs not like Iâm planning to redecorate your floorââ
âThatâs not what I mean.â His voice dropped, strained. âI can already smell it. Every second itâs stronger. If itâs⌠out, if itâsââ
He cut himself off, visibly forcing the thought away.
Your stomach sank.
âOh.â
Right.
This wasnât just awkward.
This was dangerous.
You wrapped your arms around yourself slightly, shifting again, more uncomfortable now.
âOkay⌠but I donât exactly have a choice,â you said, trying to keep your voice steady. âIâm already bleeding. If I donât change soon, itâs going to soak through my clothes.â
His eyes snapped to you again at that.
Not predatory.
Not exactly.
But intense enough to make your breath hitch.
âYouâre saying itâs going to get worse,â he said quietly.
âYes,â you said bluntly. âThatâs how it works.â
He looked away immediately, like that information alone was too much.
For a moment, he didnât speak.
The storm filled the silence againârain, thunder, wind rattling the cabin.
You could practically hear him thinking.
Calculating.
Struggling.
âThereâs no bathroom,â he said finally. âNot really. Just a back room.â
âFine,â you said quickly. âThatâs all I need.â
âNo.â Again, firmer this time.
Frustration flared. âWhat do you want me to do, then?â
He hesitated.
And that hesitation told you everything.
He didnât know.
Because every option was bad.
Let you go alone â more blood, more scent, less control.
Keep you here â same problem, just closer.
Send you outside â worse than anything in here.
You exhaled shakily. âIâm not trying to make this harder, okay? But this is happening whether we like it or not.â
His hands curled into fists at his sides.
âI know.â
âThen help me figure something out.â
He went still again.
Then, slowly, he looked at youâreally looked this time. Not just as a threat.
As a problem he didnât want to hurt.
ââŚI canât let you out of my sight,â he said.
Your brows knit together. âThatâsâkind of weird, given the situation.â
âItâs not about control,â he snapped. Then softer, strained, âItâs about making sure I donât lose it if the scent spikes.â
That⌠made sense.
In a terrifying way.
âSo what,â you said carefully, âyouâre just going to stand there while Iâ?â
âNo.â Immediate. Tense. âI wonât look.â
You let out a disbelieving breath. âThat doesnât make this less awkward.â
âIâm aware.â
Silence again.
You shifted uncomfortably, wincing slightly.
âBucky,â you said, more serious now. âIâm not kidding. I will bleed through my clothes.â
His jaw clenched hard at that.
Like the words physically hit him.
âThen we do it fast,â he said.
You blinked. âWe?â
âIâll stay by the door,â he clarified quickly. âBack turned. You go into the back room. Keep it contained. Wrap whatever you use. Donât let itââ
âI get it,â you cut in gently.
He stopped talking.
Breathing.
Thinking.
Then gave a short, stiff nod.
ââŚOkay.â
You hesitated before moving, studying him for a second.
âYouâre sure you can handle that?â
He didnât answer right away.
His eyes flicked to your hand againâwhere the smallest trace of blood had already set him off earlier.
Then back to your face.
âNo,â he said honestly.
That made your stomach flip.
âBut I donât have a better option.â
Fair enough.
Slowly, you stepped toward the back of the cabin.
He moved immediatelyâpositioning himself near the doorway like he said, turning his back to you, shoulders tense, head slightly lowered.
Putting distance.
Giving you space.
Trying.
You slipped into the back room, closing the door most of the way behind you.
Not fully.
Just enough.
For a few seconds, everything was quiet except the storm.
Thenâ
From the other side of the doorâ
You heard it.
His breathing change.
Sharper now.
Less controlled.
Like he could smell it already.
Your hands shook slightly as you worked quickly, trying not to think about itâabout him just a few feet away, about what your blood was doing to him, about how close things already came to going wrong.
âAlmost done,â you called out softly, more for his sake than yours.
No response.
Just the sound of him gripping onto control with everything he had.
When you finally finished, wrapping everything as carefully as you could, you hesitated before opening the door.
âOkay,â you said quietly.
He didnât turn around.
âIs it contained?â he asked, voice tight.
âYes.â
A beat.
Then another.
Slowly, carefully, he nodded.
âGood,â he said.
But he didnât move.
Didnât relax.
And when you stepped back into the room, you realized why.
Because even like thisâ
Even careful.
Even controlled.
It was still affecting him.
You could see it in the way his shoulders were locked, the way his hands trembled just slightly at his sides.
And the way he refused to look at you.
Like if he didâ
He might not stop himself this time.
The shift is instant.
You feel it before you hear it.
Bucky goes completely rigid.
Not tense like beforeânot struggling.
Still.
Predatory.
His head tilts slightly toward the door.
And thenâ
Knock.
Three slow, deliberate hits against the wood.
Your stomach drops.
You hadnât heard anyone approach.
No footsteps. No branches snapping. Nothing.
Justâ
There.
Bucky moves fast.
One second heâs across the room, the next heâs right in front of you, his hand gripping your armânot rough, but firm enough to lock you in place.
âDonât move,â he whispers.
His voice is different now.
Low.
Sharp.
Dangerously focused.
Another knock.
This one harder.
More impatient.
âBarnes,â a voice calls from the other side of the door. Male. Smooth. Wrong. âI know youâre in there.â
Your breath catches.
Buckyâs grip tightens just slightly.
âBe quiet,â he murmurs, eyes locking onto yours. âNo matter what you hear.â
You nod quickly.
He releases you just as fast, stepping backâputting distance between you and the door.
Positioning himself between you and it.
Always between you and it.
A third knock.
Thenâ
A slow drag of something against the wood. Finger nails, maybe.
âI can smell it,â the voice says, quieter now. Almost amused. âDonât make me knock again.â
Bucky exhales slowly through his nose, like heâs bracing himself.
Then he reaches for the handle.
Your heart slams against your ribs.
âStay behind me,â he says under his breath.
And thenâ
He opens the door.
The storm howls louder for a second as it swings open, rain blowing inâ
And thereâs a man standing there.
Tall. Pale. Dark hair slicked back, clothes untouched by the storm like it avoids him.
His eyes flick past Buckyâ
And immediately try to look past him.
Bucky shifts instantly, blocking the line of sight.
âThereâs nothing here,â he says flatly. âYouâre mistaken.â
The other vampire smiles.
Slow.
Knowing.
âFunny,â he says. âBecause Iâve been following that scent for miles.â
Your pulse spikes.
Bucky doesnât move.
âThen you should keep following it,â he replies. âBecause it doesnât lead here.â
A pause.
The man tilts his head slightly, studying him.
Then he leans forward just a fractionâ
And inhales.
Your stomach twists.
âOh,â he murmurs. âNo⌠it definitely leads here.â
Buckyâs posture changes.
Subtle.
But unmistakable.
More grounded.
More dangerous.
âYou need to leave.â
The manâs gaze sharpens, something darker flickering behind it.
âAnd miss out on whatever youâre hiding?â he asks. âI donât think so.â
He shifts, trying to step past the doorwayâ
And Bucky blocks him immediately.
Faster than you can track.
A low, warning sound builds in his chest.
âDonât.â
The other vampire pauses.
Then slowly looks back at him.
Really looks this time.
And something clicks.
ââŚYouâve already tasted it,â he says softly.
Your breath catches.
Bucky doesnât respond.
Doesnât need to.
The silence says enough.
The man smiles wider.
âWell,â he says, voice dropping, âthat explains the territorial attitude.â
âGet. Out.â
Buckyâs tone is no longer calm.
Itâs controlled violence.
Barely contained.
âYou donât get to keep something like that to yourself,â the man continues, ignoring him completely now. âNot when it smells like that.â
Your pulse hammers louder.
You can feel it.
You know they can hear it.
Both of them.
Bucky shifts again, subtly forcing you further behind him.
Shielding you completely.
âThereâs nothing here for you,â he repeats.
The man laughs softly.
âYouâre lying.â
âAnd youâre trespassing.â
Another step forward.
Another block.
Closer now.
Too close.
The air between them feels like it could snap.
âMove,â the man says, voice losing its softness.
âNo.â
A beat.
Thenâ
âYou think you can stop me?â the other vampire asks.
Bucky doesnât hesitate.
âYes.â
Certain.
And somehow, that makes it worse.
The manâs expression darkens slightly.
âYou always did have a stubborn streak,â he mutters. âBut this isnât about you.â
His eyes flick againâtrying to see around Bucky.
Trying to see you.
âWhoeverâs back there,â he calls, louder now, voice smooth again, coaxing, âyou donât have to hide. Iâm not the one keeping you locked up.â
Your chest tightens.
Buckyâs shoulders tense hard at that.
âDonât listen to him,â he says immediately, not even turning around.
âIâm just offering options,â the man continues lightly. âBecause trust meâif heâs already fed, heâs not going to stop.â
Buckyâs fist clenches.
âYou donât know what youâre talking about.â
âOh, I think I do,â the man says, amused. âI know what that kind of blood does.â
Silence.
Heavy.
Charged.
Thenâ
A quieter, more dangerous shift.
âLast chance,â Bucky says.
The storm cracks with thunder behind them.
The man smiles again.
âOr what?â
And for the first time since you met himâ
Bucky doesnât look like heâs trying to hold himself back.
He looks like heâs about to let go.
â
The shift from tension to violence is instant.
One second theyâre staring each other downâ
The nextâ
Bucky moves.
He slams his hand into the other vampireâs chest and shoves him back off the porch, the force enough to send him skidding across the mud and gravel.
âLeave,â Bucky snarls.
The other vampire barely reacts to the impact.
He just straightens slowly⌠then smiles.
But itâs not amused anymore.
Itâs feral.
âOh, I donât think so,â he says, voice dropping into something uglier. âNot when youâve got something like that in there.â
His eyes flick past Bucky againâlocking onto you for just a split second.
And thatâs all it takes.
âI think Iâll drag her out,â he continues, almost conversationally. âSuck her dry⌠and make you watch every second of it.â
Your blood runs cold.
Bucky doesnât hesitate.
âNot a chance.â
The words are sharp. Final.
And thenâ
The other vampire lunges.
Too fast.
Faster than before.
A blur of movement straight for the doorwayâ
For you.
But Bucky is already there.
He intercepts him mid-step, slamming into him with enough force to crack the wooden frame, both of them crashing into the side of the cabin.
The sound is violent.
Wood splintering.
A low, animalistic snarl tearing from both of them as they collide.
You stumble back instinctively, heart racing, trying to get out of the wayâ
But theyâre everywhere.
Too fast.
Too strong.
The other vampire swingsâBucky blocksâgrabsâslams him into the wall hard enough to shake the entire structure.
The man recovers instantly, twisting, striking backâ
A blur of fists and movement you can barely track.
Thenâ
He breaks away.
And heâs coming straight at you.
Your breath catchesâ
You try to moveâ
But youâre too slow.
A hand shoots outâ
And thenâ
Bucky is there again.
He grabs the other vampire mid-lunge, yanking him back, twisting his body away from youâ
âStay back!â Bucky snaps.
You stumble further away, but your foot catches on somethingâ
The edge of a chairâ
And suddenly youâre falling.
Hard.
Your head slams against the side of the tableâ
A sharp crackâ
Pain explodes behind your eyes.
For a second, everything goes blurry.
Warmth trickles down your temple.
Blood.
The scent hits the air immediately.
And everything stops.
Not physicallyâ
But instinctively.
The other vampire freezes for half a second.
Then his head snaps toward you.
Eyes wide.
Hungry.
âOh, thatâsââ
His voice breaks into something desperate.
ââthatâs even better.â
Bucky feels it too.
You see it in the way his entire body goes rigid.
The way his breathing stutters.
The way his controlâ
fractures.
The other vampire lunges again.
Pure instinct.
Pure hunger.
But Bucky doesnât block him the same way.
He doesnât just defend.
He attacks.
Thereâs a crack as he grabs him mid-motion, slamming him into the floor so hard the boards groan beneath them.
âYou donât touch her!â Bucky roars.
The other vampire snarls, fighting back, teeth bared now, fully feral as the scent floods the room.
âYou canât keep that from me!â he spits. âYou think you can control it? You canât even control yourselfââ
Thatâs it.
Something in Bucky snaps.
Not control.
Not entirely.
But restraint.
His movements changeâsharper, more brutalz
He doesnât just hold the other vampire backâ
He overpowers him.
Pins him.
Hands locking around his throat with terrifying strength.
The other vampire struggles, clawing at him.
But Bucky doesnât budge.
âYou picked the wrong door,â Bucky growls.
And thenâ
A sickening crack.
The body goes still instantly.
Silence crashes down just as hard as the storm outside.
Youâre breathing fast, vision still swimming, hand pressed weakly to your head.
Bucky stays there for a second, unmoving, like heâs making sure itâs over.
He grabs it by the collar, dragging it across the floor and out the door, tossing it into the rain like discarded trash.
Thunder cracks overhead.
He stands there for a moment, staring down at it.
Then mutters, low and coldâ
âWolvesâll eat good tonight, asshole.â












