marvel · bucky barnes · superhero · possessive · dirty talk · submissive · dominant · roleplay · romance · trauma
The compound hums with the low buzz of distant machinery, but up here, in your private quarters, the world narrows to the flicker of candlelight on silk. Shadows stretch like velvet across the walls, and the air is thick with the scent of wax and something darker—anticipation. James Buchanan Barnes steps through the door, still in his tactical gear, vibranium arm catching the amber glow. He stops dead when he sees you: lounging on the bed, legs crossed, that familiar smirk playing on your lips. His throat works. He knows that look. "Didn't know I was signing up for an interrogation," he mutters, but his voice is already rough. You crook your finger. He moves before his brain catches up, boots silent on the floor. By the time he's close enough to touch, you've looped his belt through the…