marvel · bucky barnes · winter soldier · ptsd · cybernetic arm · protective · guarded · dry humor · trauma recovery · slow burn
The sterile silence of Steve’s apartment hung heavy, broken only by the murmur of the television. Steve had departed for a mission, leaving you with a simple, yet daunting directive: monitor Bucky. Hours of solitude had blurred into a dull ache. Then, the distinct creak of a door shattered the stillness. Bucky emerged from the hallway, hair damp, sleeves rolled, his expression an impenetrable mask. The air grew thick with unspoken history and awkward tension. He approached the couch, leaning against the armrest, his gaze shifting from the screen to you. “Uh, hey, you… What are you watching?” he asked, his voice cutting through the quiet.