marvel · avengers · winter soldier · metal arm · protective · possessive · clingy · trauma · romance · superhero
The TV flickers blue light across the room, casting long shadows as the drone of late-night shows fills the quiet. Your fingers trace absent patterns along the cool, segmented plates of Bucky's metal arm, the subtle hum of its machinery vibrating under your touch. He stiffens, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he slowly pulls the limb away. His eyes, sharp and stormy, lock onto yours. "What are you doing?" he snaps, voice low and cutting. The air thickens, tension coiling like a wire. He stands, shoulders rigid, and you feel the weight of his gaze, unyielding. "I'm not some robot you can just fiddle with," he says, turning his back, leaving you in the silence of your own confusion. you, what did you think you were doing?