#and i hate to find therapist who doesnt ask for a reading list two sessions in i have to wade through lists of ‘alternative therapists’

[mulchwave]

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[cordytriestowrite]

Monday Mornings

Bucky x Reader

Previous Chapters

Summary: All you wanted to do was help the people of New York get through what had happened to them. But how were you supposed to help the man who just sat on your couch?

Bucky arrived promptly at six to your office the week following his abrupt departure. You half expected this to be the start of what you typically and ominously referred to as The Departure. You had seen it before, a client would leave early or arrive late for a few more sessions before never returning, avoiding phone calls and emails checking in on their wellbeing that would have to morph into unpaid bill notices and threats of collection agencies. You hated reaching that point, usually reminding yourself not to take it personally, it was just business after all, but rarely could you separate yourself from the situation and think of your services as simply transactional. When Bucky had left it took until he stepped through your door the following week to let go of the knot of anxiousness you had been holding in your chest. A knot that tangled and twisted around itself at the idea of losing him.

But here he was, bright eyed and slightly bashful as he held out a paper coffee cup that you had yet to take from him. Not only had he come back, he had arrived on time and with a coffee obviously meant to be a request of repentance. You took it from him gingerly after a beat, smiling graciously.

"Thank you, this is very sweet, but you didnt have to-"

He let out a small chuckle before shaking his head, "I wanted to."

You nodded, the gesture one of thankful acceptance. You brought the lid to your lips and let the hot mixture of coffee and milk settle on your tongue. Unthinkingly you pulled a face at the flavor, something was off.

"Uh sorry if it tastes weird. I tried to describe the markings I saw on the side of your cup to the barista. Must've got it wrong." He shrugged sheepishly, head hung low as he rubbed the back of his neck with his exposed metallic hand.

Your eyes coasted along the unclothed limb, taking a mental note of his decision to leave the metal uncovered. He was apologetic, thoughtful of your time, and getting more comfortable in your presence. Your stomach soured as you took another sip of the coffee, though the curdling in your middle had nothing to do with taste and everything to do with the bitterness you felt at your selfish wish that Bucky wasn't your patient. The actions blurred the professional line you had drawn upon his first session, the line that held you desire to know him on a more romantic level at bay while your duty as a psychologist continued it's more important job.

You cleared your throat and gestured to the couch which Bucky sat upon eagerly, as if he were waiting for your permission, as if the coffee wasn't enough for him to know he was in your good graces. You set the drink down on the table between you, noticing the mark on the cup that made this concoction different than your usual. Soy milk.

"Well I am glad you are here because we have a score to settle." You teased, rising from your seat and making your way to the shelf beside your still open door, you closed it softly and the room was wrapped in a blanket of privacy. You bent slightly to grab the deck of cards, now shuffled and stacked in a pile on the second to last shelf. It was time for a rematch.

"Can't let my best girl think she's won by default now can I?" Bucky said from behind you, his tone cocksure. You smirked and turned back to look at him, finding him relaxed against the back of the couch, his arms stretched wide taking up the entirety of the seat and allowing you a greedy look at his strong arms and muscular chest, your eyes flicked up from their lingering glance and your eyes would have met Bucky's if his gaze was not squared intently on your backside.

You bit your lip and straighted, trying with all your might to ignore the image in your mind; eyes of bright blue drinking you in like a tall glass of lemonade. You reasoned with yourself, forcing your logical mind to accept what you planned to say next which could continue you on this flirtatious track.

"Best girl huh?" Your voice was casual, lilted with the smallest tease that matched the pointed raise of your eyebrow. You doled out card between you, setting up the game while Bucky's laid back stance shifted yet again to one of uncertainty, a timid stumble of sputtered words that did not end in a complete sentence until a couple of tries in.

"I don't know a lot of dames so yeah, out of the ones I know I guess you're my favorite. You're the only one-" he cut off suddenly, picking up his cards and studying them too keenly to be believed. You moved about the cards in your hand, matching up pairs and suits while you waited patiently for what would hopefully be a big stroke to your ego. He sighed petulantly after the silence stretched long enough to tell him you would not give in and change the subject.

"You're the only one I find myself wanting to be around."

Your heart practically jumped from your chest, up your neck, and out of your mouth to hurl itself at Bucky and promise to be his forever. Luckily your heart was incapable of embarrassing you in such a way.

"Is there a reason you don't know a lot of women?" You asked as you displayed the triplet of cards bearing the number eight in black, black, and red. You asked partially out of curiosity, but mostly out of habit, knowing these inquires would bring you closer to helping him with whatever brought him to you in the first place.

"The ones I know I..." he started, then closed his lips and gave himself a moment to roll a few words around in his mouth before choosing the one that tasted best, "work with. I don't get out much."

"What do you do in your spare time?"

He considered the question as he placed down a pair of jacks and discarded a two. It was fascinating to watch him choose his words so carefully, like he knew each one had to have significance. Thoughtful. The word echoed in your head.

"I mostly work out, I dont just lie about my running habits to my friends to spend time with you." He joked and you cracked a smile. You drew a card from the deck and immediately threw it down as a discard.

"I like to read." He offered as he took his turn, "I also like to go to the farmers market on Saturdays."

"The farmers market is a great place to meet people." You said.

"I've met a few people," he sighed putting down a full set of fours, making you pout at his sudden lead. "But it doesnt ever go anywhere."

You mulled over the halfhearted excuse, letting it swim in your head. Bucky was gorgeous, there was not denying it and no doubt that's what drew women to him as he perused the Saturday market. What happened after that? What caused the fizzle and eventual death of a relationship that never even started? These were questions you could ask him, but you figured such a direct cause for self reflection would be too much for the man who deemed his therapist to be his best female friend.

Bucky ended up winning the game, his moves so strategically made that you hadn't realized your fate was sealed until you had caught his victorious grin three turns before the end. Your banter had shifted away from Bucky's dating life and practically left the realm of counseling all together in favor of smack talk and flirtatious digs. As you collected the cards Bucky looked up at the clock above his head.

"I got a few minutes left." He commented.

You hummed in acknowledgment, not looking up from the deck you were shuffling, the cards bent in your hands as you prepared to let them flicker from the halves you held into a complete set on the table.

"So, do you have a boyfriend?"

The cards you had been holding with just the right amount of pressure suddenly shot from your grip as your fingers reflexively moved in surprise. You felt your mortification double at the mess of cards strewn about the coffee table, some falling to the floor on either side as their momentum carried them over the edge. Bucky laughed lightly and you both bent down on your respective sides to collect the fallen cards.

"Sorry doll, didn't mean to get you all flustered." He said as he resurfaced and placed the rogue cards on the table. He didnt sound apologetic.

"No, no, I just lost my grip." You said lamely, faking more cards to be picked up on your side so you wouldnt have to look at him. You knew he didnt believe your fib.

"Well would you look at that your time is up. See you next week." You said hurridly, timing your completion of card settling with the start of the new hour. You rose and returned the deck to its spot on the shelf, opening your door for him immediately after.

"Are you gonna make me wait until next week to find out if you gotta guy?" Bucky whined, getting up from the couch and joining you near the doorway. His plush lips were held in a small pout, eyes large and innocent if you ignored the playful shine ribbing you had given them.

"No I don't have a boyfriend." You conceded.

"Why not?"

"Dont get out much." You said, mirroring Bucky's own words back at him. He smiled, his face alight with a satisfaction you couldn't pinpoint a sensible reason for. With a nod he walked through the doorway and around the corner, whistling a mocking tune that echoed in your ears long after he left.

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