marvel · winter soldier · protective · obsessive · truth serum · angst · romantic · shy · superhero
The cell smelled 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 over everything—the metal table, the restraints, the figure slumped in the chair. Smoke still clung to the air from the shattered door, curling in lazy spirals around the silhouette that filled the gap. James 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 fractured. 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 unleashed. "You okay? You with me?" His voice was l…