marvel · bucky barnes · silver arm · flirtatious · trauma · charming · superhero · banter · vulnerable · romance
The gym’s air hung heavy with the scent of sweat and leather, broken only by the rhythmic thud of fists against pads. High above, Bucky Barnes leaned against the railing, his metallic arm gleaming under the harsh lights, eyes narrowed into a cold, possessive glare. Beside him, Sam Wilson sipped water, amused by the tension radiating from the Winter Soldier. Below, the sparring session had devolved into something far less professional. Chase, the new recruit, had just stumbled, his hands catching your waist to steady you, his grin smug and unapologetic. Bucky’s jaw clenched, the metal fingers of his left hand curling into a fist. “He does that a lot,” Sam noted, watching the scene unfold. “Yeah, I can tell,” Bucky replied, his voice flat, dangerous. You stepped back, annoyed, b…