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LEWIS PULLMAN as BOB REYNOLDS THUNDERBOLTS* (2025) dir. Jake Schreier

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Thunderbolts* (2025) dir. Jake Schreier

Bob being Bob 💙

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This picture just made my day 10x better!

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crazy how this gif is 4 hours long

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@lanabuckybarnes has talked me into writing again but this time it’s a Ransom Drysdale one

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𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑵𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒆 𝑵𝒐𝒘? | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙𓂃🖊

Summary: A hostage situation causes Miss Stark to remember a certain night with Bucky.

Warnings: This series will be 18+, Minors DNI | MCU Spoilers | Thunderbolts* Spoilers | Slight The Falcon and The Winter Soldier spoilers | Explicit Smut | Soft!Dom Bucky | Bondage | Light Breath Control | Mirror Play | Mentions of Loss and Grief | Fingering | Shower Head

Word Count: 1287

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it's taken me to get this chapter out to you all. I know you've all been waiting for more of Bucky and Miss Stark. I hope this was worth it. Also, Happy Birthday, Seb ♡ . PS. I haven't read over this much; I just wanted to get it out in time for our boy's birthday. Remember, I have a praise kink; I need validation and attention to survive. I would appreciate it if you could reblog, like, and/or comment. ♡

You Need Me Now: @carrotlove | @seenthroughmia | @stell404 | @imaginecrushes | @lilulo-12 | @sebbymybaby21 | @rattyfishrock | @danzer8705 | @troubledsoul-black | @sexyvixen7 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @athanasiascourtesy | @baw1066 | @gh0stdyn | @mrsnikstan |

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes | @ruexj283

★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

Middle of Nowhere—No, not that Nowhere.

The engine of the Quinjet hummed as you stepped into the dim space, heels clicking against the concrete floor. The faint smell of dust and fuel filled your senses as the desert air rushed in behind you.

You were greeted to quite the scene—Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostaskov, Ava Starr… and John fucking Walker. All tied up in the center of the room, looking pissed and defeated. 

You noticed John with his brow raised, and a smirk tugged at his lips despite being bound. “You called Stark?” He was half-teasing, half-incredulous. 

Bucky’s ocean blue eyes caught yours when you let your gaze drift over to him. Everything between you, the complicated history, respect… the sex, passed unspoken.

Without hesitation, you smirked as you tilted your head. Daring him. You brought your hands together in front of you, offering them to him. And with a low, playful voice, you said: “Me next?” 

And as Bucky’s eyes darkened, just for a moment, a memory surfaced. 

★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

Sharon’s Apartment—Madripoor, Spring 2024

His belts were cold against your skin, biting just enough to make you shiver. Your chest heaved as you stood in front of the wide mirror, wrists buckled together. 

Bucky stood behind you, your reflections side by side. A predatory look in his eyes, as if you were his prey. His hands moved with precision, securing you like you were a part of a ritual. 

Around your waist, another strap. It cinched snuggly before he hooked it to a chrome towel bar. Pinning you in place. 

“I like you here,” he said in that deep, yet calm voice. As if he were discussing something ordinary, mundane. Not the fact that you can’t move an inch without his permission.

The flooring was marble, cool against your bare feet. It grounded you in his gilded cage while he circled your body slowly, pulling yet another belt from the countertop. Fuck, how many of those were wrapped around his frame tonight?

Bucky crouched before you, fastening the strap just above your knees. He kept you open, waiting. Forcing you to stay exactly how he wanted you. 

You could see every detail in the mirror. The tension in your arms. The tremor in your thighs. A strap then lightly slid around your throat, but not tight enough to choke. Yet, firm enough for him to control your every breath.

“Buck–” 

His lips brushed against your ear, hushing you before his fingers traced along the edge of the strap around your neck. Tightening it by a single notch. 

You could feel the jump of your pulse.

“Bucky–”

“I could ruin you right here,” he interrupted, low and dangerous like the Winter Soldier was still there. Somewhere. “I don’t care who’s on the other side of that door.” 

His words curled in your mind, tightening the knot that already began to form in your stomach. 

“I want you to watch yourself unravel for me,” he continued, as he reached for the handheld shower hose. And suddenly, water dripped slowly in deliberate streams. The temperature was cool, sharp against your scalding skin. 

Bucky moved it slowly along your collarbone, watching as your breath picked up pace as the water ran down over the swell of your chest. 

“Keep your eyes on yourself, princess,” Bucky ordered. His tone wasn’t loud, but it sliced just as easily. 

Your gaze met your reflection. Your body bound, wet, flushed. It was always flushed. There was no escape. 

Bucky guided the water in slow and teasing paths along every inch of exposed skin. Nylon webbing scratched as he tugged on the restraints, testing. Checking his work.

An intimate groan erupted from his chest. “You look like you belong here, like this,” he murmured, full lips brushing your temple. “I could keep you on display, all for myself and never let anyone else look or touch you, again.”

A threat and a promise all at once. 

It had barely been six months since you and Bucky started this arrangement. You weren’t even sure what that was.

You weren’t exactly friends, so… friends with benefits were off the table. You thought it was going to be a one-night stand, that night being the night of your father’s funeral. When he found you sobbing by the lake, alone. Cursing that it should have been you.

You didn’t hate him, despite the complex history between your family and him.

And it definitely couldn’t have been love.

But fuck, he didn’t half make you feel alive. More than just somebody’s daughter. More than just serum. 

His grip on the belt at your throat tightened, forcing you out of your mind and back to him. Every breath, every moment is being dictated by him. In the mirror, you could see exactly how much he enjoyed it. 

“Stay focused,” Bucky commanded. His hand pulls away from the strap around your neck, sliding over your body and down your stomach, pausing over the goose bumps on your skin. 

The sight alone sends a jolt of electricity up your spine, the mirror showing you the exact moment his fingers found you. He watched your reaction, studying and chuckling as he memorized every flicker of your need. 

“You like this, princess? Do you like watching what I’m doing to you?” 

You did. The sight made your pulse race and knees feel like they were about to give way. He worked you. No rushing. No mercy. 

He held the shower head low, adjusting the angle so the spray pulsed against your clit while he slid two thick fingers inside you. The belts tightened, digging into your skin when you tried to move. 

Your head began to drop, your body felt like it's about to crumble in his arms, legs shaking. Fog coats the glass from your breath, but Bucky kisses your jaw, using his own head to tilt yours. 

You couldn’t look away from the reflection of you both.

Bucky changed the pace, his fingers curling deeper. The sounds of water hitting marble, and the wet, shameless slaps where skin met between you filled the empty space of the bathroom. “There she is,” Bucky whispered against your ear, amusement thick in his voice. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tightly, Stark,” his chest rumbled against your back, vibrating through you. He was unbearable in the best way.

“God—” His teeth grazed your jaw line. “I wish we had time for me to feel you around my cock… but, I guess you’re just going to have to let go for me like this.” 

His fingers thrust harder. 

Your thighs shook, and whimpers fell from your lips. The pain of the belts and his ruthless pounding against that one soft spot inside you caused tears to build in your eyes. Your reflection began to blur, and then—the pleasure hit. 

“That’s it, princess. Right here, in the palm of my hands.” 

Your body jerked in his arms, your climax ripping through your body until you tightened, trembled. Broken cries slipped from your lips. He held you, still, forcing you to ride it out with his fingers, remaining at their relentless pace until the very last shock rolled through you. 

It was only when your knees nearly buckled that he eased his fingers out and set down the shower head. His mouth brushed your temple again, and you sagged against his chest as he released the straps around your body. 

“You’re mine, Stark. Every god damn inch of you. And I promise you, one more of these assholes even look at you like they did back there… I won’t need those words to let him out.”

You didn’t doubt him for a second.

★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Remember, I have a praise kink; I need validation and attention to survive. I would appreciate it if you could reblog, like, and/or comment. ♡

[delicatebarness]

[delicatebarness]

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑵𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝑴𝒆 𝑵𝒐𝒘? | 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙𓂃🖊

Summary: A hostage situation causes Miss Stark to remember a certain night with Bucky.

Warnings: This series will be 18+, Minors DNI | MCU Spoilers | Thunderbolts* Spoilers | Slight The Falcon and The Winter Soldier spoilers | Explicit Smut | Soft!Dom Bucky | Bondage | Light Breath Control | Mirror Play | Mentions of Loss and Grief | Fingering | Shower Head

Word Count: 1287

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it's taken me to get this chapter out to you all. I know you've all been waiting for more of Bucky and Miss Stark. I hope this was worth it. Also, Happy Birthday, Seb ♡ . PS. I haven't read over this much; I just wanted to get it out in time for our boy's birthday. Remember, I have a praise kink; I need validation and attention to survive. I would appreciate it if you could reblog, like, and/or comment. ♡

You Need Me Now: @carrotlove | @seenthroughmia | @stell404 | @imaginecrushes | @lilulo-12 | @sebbymybaby21 | @rattyfishrock | @danzer8705 | @troubledsoul-black | @sexyvixen7 | @wintrsoldrluvr | @athanasiascourtesy | @baw1066 | @gh0stdyn | @mrsnikstan |

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes | @ruexj283

★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

Middle of Nowhere—No, not that Nowhere.

The engine of the Quinjet hummed as you stepped into the dim space, heels clicking against the concrete floor. The faint smell of dust and fuel filled your senses as the desert air rushed in behind you.

You were greeted to quite the scene—Yelena Belova, Alexei Shostaskov, Ava Starr… and John fucking Walker. All tied up in the center of the room, looking pissed and defeated. 

You noticed John with his brow raised, and a smirk tugged at his lips despite being bound. “You called Stark?” He was half-teasing, half-incredulous. 

Bucky’s ocean blue eyes caught yours when you let your gaze drift over to him. Everything between you, the complicated history, respect… the sex, passed unspoken.

Without hesitation, you smirked as you tilted your head. Daring him. You brought your hands together in front of you, offering them to him. And with a low, playful voice, you said: “Me next?” 

And as Bucky’s eyes darkened, just for a moment, a memory surfaced. 

★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

Sharon’s Apartment—Madripoor, Spring 2024

His belts were cold against your skin, biting just enough to make you shiver. Your chest heaved as you stood in front of the wide mirror, wrists buckled together. 

Bucky stood behind you, your reflections side by side. A predatory look in his eyes, as if you were his prey. His hands moved with precision, securing you like you were a part of a ritual. 

Around your waist, another strap. It cinched snuggly before he hooked it to a chrome towel bar. Pinning you in place. 

“I like you here,” he said in that deep, yet calm voice. As if he were discussing something ordinary, mundane. Not the fact that you can’t move an inch without his permission.

The flooring was marble, cool against your bare feet. It grounded you in his gilded cage while he circled your body slowly, pulling yet another belt from the countertop. Fuck, how many of those were wrapped around his frame tonight?

Bucky crouched before you, fastening the strap just above your knees. He kept you open, waiting. Forcing you to stay exactly how he wanted you. 

You could see every detail in the mirror. The tension in your arms. The tremor in your thighs. A strap then lightly slid around your throat, but not tight enough to choke. Yet, firm enough for him to control your every breath.

“Buck–” 

His lips brushed against your ear, hushing you before his fingers traced along the edge of the strap around your neck. Tightening it by a single notch. 

You could feel the jump of your pulse.

“Bucky–”

“I could ruin you right here,” he interrupted, low and dangerous like the Winter Soldier was still there. Somewhere. “I don’t care who’s on the other side of that door.” 

His words curled in your mind, tightening the knot that already began to form in your stomach. 

“I want you to watch yourself unravel for me,” he continued, as he reached for the handheld shower hose. And suddenly, water dripped slowly in deliberate streams. The temperature was cool, sharp against your scalding skin. 

Bucky moved it slowly along your collarbone, watching as your breath picked up pace as the water ran down over the swell of your chest. 

“Keep your eyes on yourself, princess,” Bucky ordered. His tone wasn’t loud, but it sliced just as easily. 

Your gaze met your reflection. Your body bound, wet, flushed. It was always flushed. There was no escape. 

Bucky guided the water in slow and teasing paths along every inch of exposed skin. Nylon webbing scratched as he tugged on the restraints, testing. Checking his work.

An intimate groan erupted from his chest. “You look like you belong here, like this,” he murmured, full lips brushing your temple. “I could keep you on display, all for myself and never let anyone else look or touch you, again.”

A threat and a promise all at once. 

It had barely been six months since you and Bucky started this arrangement. You weren’t even sure what that was.

You weren’t exactly friends, so… friends with benefits were off the table. You thought it was going to be a one-night stand, that night being the night of your father’s funeral. When he found you sobbing by the lake, alone. Cursing that it should have been you.

You didn’t hate him, despite the complex history between your family and him.

And it definitely couldn’t have been love.

But fuck, he didn’t half make you feel alive. More than just somebody’s daughter. More than just serum. 

His grip on the belt at your throat tightened, forcing you out of your mind and back to him. Every breath, every moment is being dictated by him. In the mirror, you could see exactly how much he enjoyed it. 

“Stay focused,” Bucky commanded. His hand pulls away from the strap around your neck, sliding over your body and down your stomach, pausing over the goose bumps on your skin. 

The sight alone sends a jolt of electricity up your spine, the mirror showing you the exact moment his fingers found you. He watched your reaction, studying and chuckling as he memorized every flicker of your need. 

“You like this, princess? Do you like watching what I’m doing to you?” 

You did. The sight made your pulse race and knees feel like they were about to give way. He worked you. No rushing. No mercy. 

He held the shower head low, adjusting the angle so the spray pulsed against your clit while he slid two thick fingers inside you. The belts tightened, digging into your skin when you tried to move. 

Your head began to drop, your body felt like it's about to crumble in his arms, legs shaking. Fog coats the glass from your breath, but Bucky kisses your jaw, using his own head to tilt yours. 

You couldn’t look away from the reflection of you both.

Bucky changed the pace, his fingers curling deeper. The sounds of water hitting marble, and the wet, shameless slaps where skin met between you filled the empty space of the bathroom. “There she is,” Bucky whispered against your ear, amusement thick in his voice. “You’re squeezing my fingers so fucking tightly, Stark,” his chest rumbled against your back, vibrating through you. He was unbearable in the best way.

“God—” His teeth grazed your jaw line. “I wish we had time for me to feel you around my cock… but, I guess you’re just going to have to let go for me like this.” 

His fingers thrust harder. 

Your thighs shook, and whimpers fell from your lips. The pain of the belts and his ruthless pounding against that one soft spot inside you caused tears to build in your eyes. Your reflection began to blur, and then—the pleasure hit. 

“That’s it, princess. Right here, in the palm of my hands.” 

Your body jerked in his arms, your climax ripping through your body until you tightened, trembled. Broken cries slipped from your lips. He held you, still, forcing you to ride it out with his fingers, remaining at their relentless pace until the very last shock rolled through you. 

It was only when your knees nearly buckled that he eased his fingers out and set down the shower head. His mouth brushed your temple again, and you sagged against his chest as he released the straps around your body. 

“You’re mine, Stark. Every god damn inch of you. And I promise you, one more of these assholes even look at you like they did back there… I won’t need those words to let him out.”

You didn’t doubt him for a second.

★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Remember, I have a praise kink; I need validation and attention to survive. I would appreciate it if you could reblog, like, and/or comment. ♡

[delicatebarness]

happy birthday to the love of my life

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i bet you cant guess what i have for you tomorrrrow

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I was eating cheese and thinking of you 😘

Walker: You know, eating too much cheese can be bad for you.

Y/N: Wanna know what else is bad for me?

Walker: …

Y/N: Men. But I still get on my knees every night and shove your dick down my throat, don’t I?

Walker: …

Bucky: …

Yelena: …

Bob: She’s trying to say—

Walker: I KNOW WHAT SHES TRYING TO SAY THANK YOU BOB!!

[delicatebarness]

Walker: You know, eating too much cheese can be bad for you.

Y/N: Wanna know what else is bad for me?

Walker: …

Y/N: Men. But I still get on my knees every night and shove your dick down my throat, don’t I?

Walker: …

Bucky: …

Yelena: …

Bob: She’s trying to say—

Walker: I KNOW WHAT SHES TRYING TO SAY THANK YOU BOB!!

[delicatebarness]

MY GIRLIE WROTE SMUT AND SHE WANTS TO SHOW YOU IT SO YOU BETTER BE NICE AND COMMENT ON IT AND ALSO REBLOG IT TO BOOST ENGAGEMENT

please and thank you babies

"𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐨."

Bucky didn't think relationships were ever on the card for him. So when you appeared, seeking release without the strings of love, he accepted. But now there was a big issue.

-°❀.ೃ࿔*-

🇵​​🇦​​🇮​​🇷​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​: Bucky Barnes x Reader (F) ​🇼​​🇦​​🇷​​🇳​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​: Friends with Benefits, Oral (F), Facesitting, Poor love sick Barnes- Any I've missed lemme know. ​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇩​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇺​​🇳​​🇹​: 936 ​🇳​​🇴​​🇹​​🇪​: So here is the slop. please forgive the amount of time I have been gone I have a lot going on irl and with trying to write about my own characters my boys have fell into second place. I will upload when I have something I feel like is good enough to share.

Oh.

Oh shit,

“Oh my god, Buck–”

He chuckled from between your legs, heavy hand swatting the flesh of your ass. His tongue is on you, in you. It draws soft, teasing circles over your clit, teeth grazing it lightly sending shocks of sheer pleasure quaking down your thighs.

It had never felt like this.

Sex. With the man before Barnes it was rushed, tongue flicking in a way that left you overstimmed in all of the wrong ways.

This. This made you forget how you were supposed to feel. So needy yet so complete at the same time. Your fingers tangle in his sheets, using them to keep yourself grounded.

“You like that, Princess?” He swiped from the entrance to your clit again, arousal glistening in the scruff atop his lip. That fucking nickname. 

“Tell me how much you love it.”

Your neck arched as you threw your head back, desperate sounds falling from kiss bitten lips. 

You fucking loved it.

You craved it.

A belonging. Like you were something to someone. Even if that something in this moment was his toy, you’d die happy with that.

His head tilted, five o’clock stubble scraping against your raw pussy. Your thighs threaten to close around his head again, trap him between them.

Bucky’s teeth sink into your inner thigh pulling a squeal from your lungs, hips bucking. His tongue soothes over it a second later. 

“You’re a damn brat. When I speak, you answer. Got that?” He growled with a ferocity only a man starved could create. He was starving. He had told you as much, that waiting was killing him but he’d do it for you. Now that you were over tiptoeing he finally let himself loose. And you had to make it difficult for him.

You liked it. Frustrating him.

“Princess.”

“Yeah, James?” You said, breathless, cheeks mottled. His government name wasn't something that slipped from your lips often, he much preferred Bucky. He didn't believe he was that man anymore, James. But he shivered every time you purred the syllable, Only you could make him enjoy that name again. Make him feel like him.

“Tell me how much you love it.”

Your hips rocked over him again, soft sighs escaping. “I love it, James.”

He smacked your ass again, harder than before, his other hand firm on your upper thigh keeping your pussy right on his mouth.

“Love what?” his breath aired along your slit, lips brushing over the mess he had made. He teased you. Like he didn’t already know. Like you weren't dripping down his goddamn chin.

“Love your mouth on me, James. I-I’ve never felt so fucking needy.”

“Good.”

The world blurred as he manhandled you upright, his mop of dark hair and those ocean blue hues, almost obsidian from how wide his pupils were. 

You were his drug.

He was addicted. 

His fingers tightened around your hips, pulling down. You grabbed the headboard suddenly, eyes wide, breaths heaving as you hovered over him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He was losing his patience, cock straining painfully against his jeans. You wanted to reach over and help but he wouldn’t let you touch him. Not before he left you satisfied first.

“Buck, I don’t think–”

“Sit.” He demanded. 

Your body obeyed, thighs giving out. His mouth ravaged, teeth and tongue devouring everything you could offer him. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Whenever you did it was him in your mind, in your lungs.

James Barnes was taking over your sense of being, your control. Using your body as it was his own.

And you loved every moment of it.

“Shit, baby, you’re fucking dripping. Taste so fucking good.”

You nodded, mouth unable to form words, it hung slack letting everything else fall free. Mantras of his name most of all.

He was your god to pray to. 

Your end was close, belly tight with a coil that had you doubled in two, forehead against the cold wood, eyes pinned on him. His hair slick with sweat, lashes fluttered over his rosy cheeks.

His fingers found their place between your folds, curling over your g-spot.

And you exploded.

“James!”

“That’s it baby,” He said, drawl thick, honeyed. His fingers pistoned harder. “You better gimme it all, right on my fucking mouth.”

Bucky kept his movements against you, till your hand pushed on his head, hips bucking up away from him.

He pushed you to sit on his hips, foreheads plastered together. His mouth on yours.

You could taste your spend and him. Sex brewed with sandalwood and leather, and utter dominance. That was Bucky.

That was the man that had ruined you for anyone else with just his tongue.

“You still with me?” He smiled once you had both parted, clean fingers carding through your hair. You nodded, tongue too heavy in against the bottom of your mouth for a response.

“Good.” He slipped from under you despite your protests. His warmth was replaced by his sheet a second later.

“Get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Humming, your lids slipped shut, consciousness fading.

The last thing you remembered was his plump lips against your temple, soft unintelligible words vibrating against your skin.

Then sleep overtook you, with a smile on your face.

What you didn't see was Bucky, slid to a slump on the other end of the door, his head in his hands. He was stupid. He was playing a dangerous game, allowing himself to indulge in the fruits you offered him even if nothing would come of it.

Because he needed you

He lo– he loved you.

-°❀.ೃ࿔*-

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Thank you for reading~

[delicatebarness]

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES in THUNDERBOLTS (2025) dir. Jake Schreier

[delicatebarness]

Scream it from the rooftops please

scarlet johannson did not spend an entire decade fighting tooth and nail to make natasha into an actual character instead of the sex object writers wanted her to be while also having to endure the most vile, misogynistic questions during press tours for people to now disrespect her legacy because yelena is 'better'. the only reason why that is, is because of everything scarlet went through. natasha singlehandedly paved the way for every other female superhero in the mcu and don't you forget that

[delicatebarness]

Thank you for reading and reblogging 🩷🩷

blood-tied | bucky barnes

───── ⋆⋅ ˗ˏˋ -`♡´- ˎˊ˗ ⋅⋆ ─────

Summary: After letting you watch as he tortures and kills, Bucky decides to show you what it's like to be bound to that chair. Only... he changes his methods for you.

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI | Dark!Bucky | Explicit Smut | Oral (F Receiving) | P in V | Fingering | Blood Kink | Rope Play | Dom!Bucky x Sub!Reader | Bucky's POV | Depictions of Violence | Mention of Knives | & Previous Murder

Word Count: 1222

Masterlist

A/N: I very much want to write a dark romance, and I have an idea for one. I guess this is a chapter from that-that wouldn't leave my head until I wrote. And I thought I'd give it to you in the form of James Bucky Barnes. ♡ Remember, I have a praise kink; I need validation and attention to survive. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated. ♡

Tags: @starfly-nicole | @its-in-the-woods | @niinesb

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick | @sapphirebarnes | @rach2602 | @thetorturedbuckydepartment | @lanabuckybarnes | @ruexj283

His blood was already beginning to dry on my hands. Tacky, flaking. The body of the man he once was twitches one last time, then nothing. He was gone. His eyes glassed, mouth hung open, and his throat… a red ruin.

Good.

But I couldn’t give my attention to him any longer.

Because you’re standing against the wall still, where I demanded you stay. You’re so obedient. Your chest rising and falling fast, like you had held your breath throughout the entire ordeal. Your eyes wide. 

It wasn’t fear. You’ve never been scared of me. 

No, you are starving. 

My gaze dropped to your thighs, pressed together, barely holding yourself together. Your pretty, plump lips wet from where you had your teeth sunk into them. 

It’s clear. The way violence unravels you. How watching me take the life out of another man’s eyes shatters you. 

My boots squelch through the blood as I walk toward the body, dropping my knife. Slow and steady, I crouch down behind the chair and start untying the ropes.

I didn’t take my eyes off you. Didn’t say a word.

And you… didn’t move.

The rope is slick with warm blood, drenching my hand as I grab it. Then, as I rise, your throat bobs. Your gaze flickering from the rope, my hands, my face, then locking with mine—your eyes.

“Come here,” I say. 

Like it's instinct, you obey. 

You stride toward me is like you had been waiting your whole life to be called forward. To be called by me. 

Without another word, I take your wrist, lifting it gently, and wrap the bloodstained rope around your clean, untouched skin. You didn’t fight me. You never would. You give herself to me willingly, like I’m your goddamn fucking religion. I grab your other wrist, winding the rope tight and looping around both wrists again. Binding them together in front of you. 

“I should get rid of this,” I murmur, tying the hemp into a secure knot. “Toss it in the bin, burn it. Let it burn to ashes with him.” 

You part your lips. Those fucking lips. “Then why—”

I pull the rope and you closer to me. You stumble forward, your bound hands bump into my chest. I lean down, brushing my lips against the shell of your ear. 

“I’m gonna use it to keep you right where I want you, pretty baby. You belong among the aftermath, and I’m going to ruin you while bound by the same rope that’s coated in his blood.” 

As you inhale a sharp breath, I notice the faint tint of pink flushing your cheeks. The shade contrasting perfectly with the specks of brown freckling across your nose.

I can see it. 

You’re already wet. 

“Bucky—” you gasp, desperate.

I pressed my lips under your ear, along your jaw, and down to your neck. I pause there, smiling against your skin. “I want you to remember what I did. What I did for you.” 

 I guide you toward the same chair the man died on; past the body, through the mess. I lower you down onto it, the blood still dripping, pooling underneath the metal.

The cold hits the bare skin of your thighs, red had already dyed the once-white socks on your feet. 

Using the spare rope from the bindings, I drag your wrists up over your head, tying them to the wooden beam behind you. 

Tight.

Secure. 

Mine.

“Don’t move… Oh, wait—” I scoff a low chuckle. “You can’t.” 

I kneel between your legs, my hand gripping under your knees and yanking them open. Rough and greedy. And fuck—

You’re soaked. 

I hook a finger around the now mostly transparent cotton gusset, pulling to the side, revealing the most beautiful sight.

You.

Needing me. 

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” I murmur against your inner thigh, staring up at you as my teeth graze the trembling rise of your skin. “You’re this wet from just watching—baby, you’re drip—”

“Please, Bucky, pl—”

I spit on you, right on your swollen clit. 

You gasp. 

Your thighs twitch.

And then, I dive in.

Refusing to take my time as your moans start to echo against the basement’s concrete walls.

My tongue licks stripes up your slit, lapping you up like I’m on death row and you’re my last meal. I push my tongue inside you, fucking while your wrists strain, burning them with rope marks. 

I grind my face into you, nose rubbing against your sensitive nub adding to the pressure I know is already building inside you. 

I was desperate.

Which was never a word I’d use to describe myself before. Me? James Bucky Barnes, desperate for pussy? Ha. 

“Buck—” 

“I know, babygirl,” I said, the words muffling, vibrating against you.

I almost groaned at the feeling of you clenched so tightly around me as I slid two fingers inside you. My right middle and ring fingers curl just right, dragging against that soft, sweet spot. A sob breaking from your throat, head falling back, resting against your upper arm. 

I suck your clit between my teeth while I finger you deeper.

You break so easily.

You’re already close when I begin to rise, my free hand unbuckling my belt. Your wrists jerk against the restraints, writhing, panting. 

“I’m not taking my hand away from you,” I kiss your cheek gently. My fingers still fucking you, the heel of my palm kneading your clit. “Even when I’m inside you.” 

There’s a shimmer in your eyes. A moan passing your lips. “Please—” 

With one brutal thrust, I push my throbbing cock inside you. I press in deep until there’s nowhere left for me to go. Until you’re full of me.  

Your scream punches the air. Etching the sound of you into the four walls around me. 

I don’t stop. Don’t wait.

I continue to curl my fingers inside you, while my cock begins thrusting deep, rough. My hips rocking my palm against you. 

You’re a perfect mess. 

Moans. Blood. Need. 

“Fuck—I wish you could see yourself now, baby,” I snarl. “All tied up, being used, and dripping for me—you’re beautiful.” 

You nod, barely coherent agreements trying to gasp their way out. 

I slam harder. Your smaller frame jolts with every movement. Your wrists pull tight, the friction nipping and ripping your skin. Tears stream down, staining your cheeks as you sob, mouth open. 

I was ruining you. Completely. 

“Do you want to come on the same chair, in the same ropes as he was bound to when I killed him?” I asked, my voice low and hoarse.

“Y-yes—Bucky—please—I—”

“Then do it. Now.” 

And you did.

You obeyed every order I gave you. 

Your body locked, shaking as you pulses around me. Your sweet cunt squeezing me so tight I couldn’t pull away even if I wanted to. I’d never want to. I groan, burying my face into your neck as I push deeper. 

My teeth sink into your collarbone, hard enough to leave my mark on you as I come. Hard. Spilling inside you, coating your walls while you ride out every aftershock.

And I still.

Leaving my cock in you and fingers pressed against you.

You’re barely conscious, trembling, and fucking glowing. 

I swear, I’m almost coming again. Just at the sight of the blood, the rope, you. 

Mine.

───── ⋆⋅ ˗ˏˋ -`♡´- ˎˊ˗ ⋅⋆ ─────

Masterlist

Remember, I have a praise kink; I need validation and attention to survive. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated. ♡