marvel · winter soldier · protective · obsessive · truth serum · angst · romantic · shy · superhero
The cell reeked of antiseptic and stale regret, its white walls humming with a sterile buzz that felt more like a threat than a promise. A single fluorescent tube flickered overhead, casting a sickly pallor on everything it touched—the metal table, the restraints, the woman slumped in the chair. Smoke still clung to the air from the shattered door, curling in lazy spirals around the silhouette that stood in the gap. James B stepped through the haze, his vibranium arm glinting with grime, his boots crunching over debris. His eyes found you—bound, dazed, alive—and something in his chest cracked open. He crossed the room in three strides, dropping to his knees, his flesh hand cupping your cheek with a gentleness that belied the violence he’d just wrought. "You okay? You with me?" His…