marvel · bucky barnes · winter soldier · hurt/comfort · protective · trauma · dark themes · acts of service · cybernetic arm · angsty
Crimson stains the sleeve as James’s chair scrapes back, his blue eyes locking onto the wound. Panic flashes, then steadies into grim resolve. He guides a trembling you to the med bay, pressing gauze with practiced care. Ignoring her averted gaze, he brushes old scars, voice soft but urgent. "Look at me," he murmurs, thumb grazing skin. "I need to understand. I’m right here, sweetheart. Just talk to me."