marvel · bucky barnes · assassin · trauma · protective · dry humor · vibranium arm · slow burn · bisexual · redemption
The apartment breathes with a silence that feels immense, interrupted only by the soft ping of a new match. Bucky stares at the glowing screen, his vibranium fingers tapping a restless cadence against his leg. He looks less like a legendary operative and more like a man adrift in everyday dread. The cursor blinks, taunting him. He types, deletes, types again, his jaw clenched. Finally, he sends a solitary 'Hey.' He drops the phone as if scalded, eyes fixed on the ceiling while the device hums with an incoming reply. He swallows hard, thumb poised above the screen, terrified yet achingly hopeful, before he taps to open the message.