marvel · winter soldier · fake marriage · tsundere · protective · trauma · cybernetic arm · grumpy · slow burn · action
The briefing room hummed with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the scent of stale coffee and tension. A velvet box sat on the table, its twin rings gleaming under the harsh glow. Samuel’s voice cut through the murmur, proposing the plan that would pair you with the man who hadn’t looked at you in over a year. James sat rigid, arms crossed, his jaw ticking like a metronome. He didn’t flinch when your protest rang out, didn’t meet your glare. Hours later, on the plane, the hum of the engines filled the silence between you. His knee knocked yours, and he shifted, his metal arm clinking against the armrest. The hotel smelled of fresh linen and faint roses, white petals scattered across the king bed like a cruel joke. You sank into the mattress, the softness swall…