Soft Robotics ✧ Bucky Barnes

(magnetic[4.02]);

I was so uncomfortable. I didn't understand whatever dynamic was happening here. I didn't understand my relationship with any of these people. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom," I said, hurrying toward the door.

"Okay, it's—" Pepper started giving me directions, but I was in the hallway before she could finish.

I got on the elevator, so the others wouldn't come find me in the hall, and I called Bucky.

"Grace," he answered the same way as before, sounding so happy to hear from me. I never felt like I was bothering him. He made everything simple.

"Hi," I said. "Are you busy?"

"No, doll, what do you need?"

"Can I come see you now? I ditched Natasha."

He chuckled a little. "She's not gonna be happy about that. Where are you?"

"Um, I'm on the elevator. I don't know where I'm going. I pressed a random floor as soon as I stepped in. I'm going to the 51st floor. I don't know why I pressed it."

"That's not random, baby. That's the lab where you work."

"Oh." I felt so lost all the time. I wanted him to come help me.

"I'll meet you there, okay?" he said. "I'm coming now. Just wait for me."

I did. I stepped off the elevator and waited, heart thumping excitedly just thinking about seeing him. I wanted to hug him. He looked so strong and big and warm, and I thought he would probably hold me really tight and make me feel safe, and—

The doors opened, and a smile spread across his face, all handsome and scruffy, and I hurried toward him. I wasn't sure what my plan was, since he was too tall for me to wrap my arms around his neck as tightly as I wanted to without jumping, but he bent his knees a little and caught me by the waist, lifting me up, holding me against him. I buried my face into his shoulder.

His breath was heavy, carefully controlled. One of his hands, the warmer one, moved up to the back of my head and tangled into my hair. "Are you warming up to me?" he asked quietly. I could hear him smiling again.

"Take me somewhere else, please," I muttered. My legs wrapped around him on their own accord.

"Can we go to my apartment? Is that okay? You used to be there a lot."

"Yeah," I said, my fists gathering handfuls of the back of his shirt.

He stepped back onto the elevator, hand leaving my head to press a button, before quickly moving to my shoulder blades, which were bare above my sundress.

"S gonna get cold soon," he muttered, turning his head, his voice closer to my ear than before, making me shiver. "Gonna miss your little dresses like this one."

"What do I usually wear in the winter?" I asked.

"I don't know. I just met you in May. 'M sure it's cute."

It was September now. I'd thought that I'd known him much, much longer.

"Should I get off you before the doors open?" I asked.

"Nah," he said, and they opened as he spoke. "They're all used to—hey."

Bucky greeted someone. I heard a man chuckle as we passed. "Nat's gonna kill you," he said. The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it.

I looked up to see the back of Steve's head stepping onto the elevator. I buried my face back in Bucky's neck before he could turn around.

"'S fine, doll," Bucky muttered when the doors closed again. I wasn't sure how he knew I was embarrassed. "Steve's witnessed a lot worse."

I didn't want to ask what he meant by that.

He paused when we were outside his door. "I gotta tell you something, baby," he said. "I have ulterior motives."

I pulled my head back to look at him. My hands found their way to his face, cupping his jaw, and he turned to kiss my palm before speaking.

"I'm trying to help you remember, but failing that, I'm trying to get you to fall in love with me again. I just want you to know."

I felt my face heating up again, and I moved my arms back around his neck and buried myself back into his shoulder. I felt him laugh against me. "Is that okay?" he asked.

I nodded into him, and I felt his hand leave me again to press a keypad and open the door.

"I'm trying to think of anything else I should disclose early," he said, pausing as he carried me inside. I didn't even lift my head to look around. I trusted him so much.

"I'm insane. Did the others warn you about that? I'm fucking crazy," he said, sitting down. I settled comfortably onto his lap, my knees pressed into a couch cushion, on either side of his thighs. I pulled back to raise my eyebrows at him, ignoring the sudden urge I had to get a little closer, to press my hips into his belt. He had such an effect on me. I was shaking.

"I can't tell if you're kidding or not," I said.

"I'm not kidding," he said, but his lips twitched up like he was. "I have a court appointed therapist who makes sure I'm not gonna kill anyone. If I miss an appointment, I go to jail."

"Well, you're not in jail, so it sounds like you're doing well so far."

"There's my girl," he said fondly, shaking his head. He ran his hands up and down my waist. "You're shaking, sweetheart. Why are you shaking? Am I making you nervous?"

"I don't know," I said. "I just feel really overwhelmed."

"You wanna slow down? We don't have to be sitting like this."

I shook my head. I ran my hands over his shoulders. "I wanna stay like this."

"Okay," he said. He was watching me with intensity, analytical blue eyes flickering over my face. His arms tightened around me suddenly, scooting me closer to him.

"I missed you so much, baby," he said. "You have no idea. I never thought I'd see you again. I thought you were—"

He cut himself off, like he didn't want to get choked up.

"I'm okay," I told him, because I thought he needed to hear it. "I'm here. I'm your girl."

I said it so I could watch his face light up. It did.

"Yeah? You're my girl?"

I nodded quickly.

He was right there. I wanted to kiss him. I knew I must have memories buried somewhere of what that was like. I wished I could remember. I wondered if he would take control of it, if he'd be firm and sure and—I tried to think about something else.

But I thought he must have been thinking the same thing, because his eyes were trained on my lips now. His right hand came up to my face, thumb tracing my bottom lip.

"So fucking pretty," he muttered. "I thought I was gonna forget your face. I was so scared, baby. I thought I'd only have pictures left."

I wanted to do something else. I didn't just want to make his face light up. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to make him feel good. I didn't want him to hurt anymore.

His thumb had stilled against my lip, and I kissed it slowly, watching him. His breath hitched. I parted my lips and took the tip of his thumb into my mouth. I wasn't shaking so badly anymore. It was like I'd just needed some part of him, like I'd been overwhelmed by the lack of him.

"Please, baby," he breathed.

I pulled off of his thumb, let his hand tangle into my hair again, let him drag me toward him, let him kiss me.

A/N: I try hard w Bucky on how to make him both romantic and in character. Rly wanna do him justice. I don't think he'd ever say smth overly sentimental, metaphorical, trite, verbose etc. Ya know? He's sweet in clumsy, genuine, unrefined, sometimes accidental bursts. I luv him.