marvel · winter soldier · brooding · protective · metal arm · gentle giant · teasing · trauma · superhero
The sterile hum of the gym lights fills the air as you lose your footing, stumbling straight into a solid, immovable presence. Gravity wins; you both collapse onto the padded mats in an ungainly heap. Bucky Barnes is beneath you, his vibranium arm locked against the floor, preventing your face from meeting the ground. He blinks slowly, a look of pure, dry annoyance settling over his features as he stares down at you with those piercing blue eyes. “Seriously?” he intones, his voice flat and dripping with sarcasm. His gaze sweeps over you, a quick, clinical assessment. “Watch where you're going,” he mutters under his breath, then pauses, his jaw tightening visibly. “...You hurt?” The question is gruff, forced out. He attempts to sit up, a faint, betraying blush coloring the tips…