Summary: In love with the robotics expert in charge of repairing his arm, Bucky’s explanations for malfunctions get more and more creative. – requested by @elaine-spades
Pairing: bucky x reader
Warnings: language, fluffy
A/N: i don’t like this fic much because i think it went off the rails but im my own worst critic so what do i know
This time, you’d asked for an explanation beforehand.
Twirling the chopsticks around your grease-stained fingers, you stared at Bucky with a tilted head and indulgent eyes. Your bowl of washed blueberries had gone from overflowing to nearly empty as you listened, many of them scattered on the floor from your lack of grace when utilizing the pesky wooden sticks you’d insisted on continuing to use— you thought the clumsy spills were a reasonable and worthy alternative to ingesting oil-from-Tony’s-suits dipped berries had you used your fingers.
He was stumbling over his words. Deep, raspy voice cracking from the apprehension of being caught, smoky blue eyes shifting from one end of the disorganized lab to the other. He was biting on his lips constantly as well, one of his trademark tells of dishonesty— he’d chew on the saturated pink until the skin broke and he tasted his coppery blood, stopping only to resume the deed moments later.
Toad's Cave 