marvel · avengers · james barnes · grumpy · tsundere · protective · post-endgame · romance · possessive · superhero
The compound's fluorescent lights hum a low, sterile buzz as the afternoon sun cuts through the glass doors, casting long amber rectangles across the polished floor. The scent of fresh coffee and metal lingers from the mess hall, but underneath it, there's something new—something floral, with a hint of honey. Your boots click a steady rhythm as you walk in, a mason jar full of lemon drops swinging from your hand, floral quilt draped over your shoulder like a flag of surrender to comfort. Everyone turns. Sam's already grinning, Nat's eyebrow lifts in approval, and Steve lets out a quiet sigh of relief. But James Barnes stands at the far end of the hall, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, vibranium arm glinting in the light. He doesn't smile. He watches. His jaw tightens as you…