#i apologized profusely for her and that I'd been working with her on boundaries when it came to me for years but apparently you are not your | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astro-rain · 3 years

Text

delicate; b.barnes

chapter fourteen - “pinky promise”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: bucky and the reader reconvene after the events of the previous night, figuring out what they need to do from there. pinky promises are endearing but they don’t prevent the effects of distressed regret & emotional frustration.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

She awoke with wet regret staining her cheeks. She remembered falling asleep with shame, liquid guilt seeping out of her eyes. Slowly and silently weeping herself to sleep while drunk. What a colossal fucking mistake she made. She felt terrible, and she could only imagine how Bucky felt. She needed to apologize. Immediately.

She found that her shoes were still on when she got out of bed.

"Oh, Christ," she huffed at her messiness.

Regardless, she grabbed a jacket for protection from the chilly Wakandan morning air before rushing to the door, determined to find Bucky as soon as possible and apologize profusely for the previous night.

She opened the door but before she could dash out, she smacked directly into what felt like hard wood. Wait, no. The "hard wood" was a chest, and that chest belonged to a person... it was Bucky. Damn it.

"Sorry!" the two exclaimed simultaneously.

They both backed up.

"Y/N..."

"Bucky."

"Can we talk?"

"Yes. Please."

They awkwardly made their way into the room, eventually sitting side by side on the end of her bed. The air was quiet and void of their usual content and lighthearted atmosphere. Both of them sat staring straight forward.

"Bucky, I... I am so sorry about last night. I know being drunk isn't an excuse for being unprofessional, but I really have no other explanation as to why I'd ever do something so inappropriate. I feel awful and I can't imagine how uncomfortable I've made you. I will completely understand if you don't want to work with me anymore. I can talk to Shuri or T'Challa and we can find someone else to take my place if—"

"Woah," he turned to her, slightly alarmed. "Slow down, slow down. Who said anything about replacing you?"

"Well, I just thought after...last night, you'd rather have someone else work with you. It probably wouldn't be wise to continue treatment with me after certain... professional boundaries have been damaged."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

She looked at him bewildered, but he looked dead serious.

Y/N shook her head. "I—"

"Look, I'm not a therapist and I don't know the criteria of your 'professional boundaries'... But you were drunk. It happens. I don't think any less of you because you had a little too much. Believe me, I've been there."

"I know, but it's not necessarily the drinking that was the problem. It was... my actions."

"Right. And I don't think leaning a couple inches is really grounds for leaving Wakanda."

It was more than just "leaning a couple inches," and she knew that. She was humiliated by her drunken errors, but it was seductively dizzying to be that close to him. In the moment, she relished in every second, every atom of hers that was touching him. However, it was the afterthought that was the problem, the realization of what she had done and how wrong it was.

"Bucky..."

"I'm not working with anyone else."

"I'm not the only good therapist, you know."

"But you're my therapist. I don't want a new one."

"And I don't want to disrupt your progress, but there's no way I can keep treating you after last night."

"Why not? What's gonna happen if you do? Nothing."

"It's not that simple."

"Nobody was here. No one knows but us. There's no way you can get into trouble."

"It's not entirely about getting in trouble. It's about the nature of our relationship and how that change can impact how effectively and ethically I can treat you."

He was quiet for a minute, thinking.

He shook his head, looking down at his feet. "We can work something out..."

"I don't think so, Buck..."

"So you're just gonna leave then?"

"I think that's what needs to happen."

He turned his head to her, making deliberate eye contact.

"Y/N, please."

"All I wanna do is do right by you, and I can't do that after I've compromised our relationship."

"But you didn't compromise—"

"Bucky," she exasperated, "Can you please try to understand?"

"Can you please try not to be so hasty about things? Our relationship is fine. You don't need to leave."

Stubborn. He was being stubborn. But, all she could see was strong will and passion. That was the problem. All his faults morphed into aptitudes when they filtered through her perception.

"I really care about you, Buck. I just want you to have access to the help you need, and as much as I hate to say it, I don't know if I can be that help anymore."

"Can't we just try?"

"Try what?"

"Just... hear me out. We can continue the sessions as if nothing happened, and if everything is fine, then great, but if not, then you can go."

Is that what it would take for him to be okay with her leaving? Is that what it would take to make her departure less of a complete upheaval? There was no way this would work, she thought. But what were the lengths to which she would go to make the transition smoother? Was she willing to make sacrifices to help ease his hardships? She reflected for a minute.

For him, she would. For him, she considered, she'd do most anything.

"Okay," she said after brief contemplation. "We can try. But you have to keep in mind, the entire time, that I still might have to leave in the end."

He smiled, sincerity almost suffocating her. "Thank you."

"Promise me you won't be disappointed if I end up having to leave."

"You want a pinky, blood oath, or spit shake?" he asked, jokingly.

"Bucky," Y/N deadpanned.

"Well, it's not like we need to promise, because you won't have to leave... 'cause everything will be fine."

God, she hoped so.

"Promise me anyway. Just in case."

"Fine. I promise. You have my word."

She held out her hand to him, pinky finger raised high.

"Make it official."

"You know I was kidding?" he asked.

"I know. But you brought it up, so now you're payin' the price," she smiled, feeling herself momentarily slipping back into their dynamic. "Officially promise me with your pinky, James."

In acquiescence, he lifted his hand up to hers, pinky extended, and wrapped their fingers together. As it turned out, her hand had desires of its own and begged for additional contact. It yearned to smooth over the skin of Bucky's hand and press their palms together. Her hand wanted to intertwine the rest of their fingers and hold on ever so tightly. It wanted to hold on and never leave Wakanda, never leave his side.

As it also turned out, the hand is not the mind. These were surely not Y/N thoughts. Definitely not... Desires were kept repressed and no actions were taken. Sorry hand.

Their fingers stayed connected for just a few brief seconds of silence. Not nearly long enough for it to be awkward or for them to get second thoughts about the integrity of their agreement. Their fingers disconnected.

"So..." Bucky started, "are things gonna be weird now? With us?"

"They don't have to be, but I guess it depends."

"On what?"

"I don't know. Whether you're upset with me over what happened - which you have every right to be."

"Upset with you? No! Not at all. It seems like you're more upset than I ever was."

"I'm only upset because of what I did!"

"Well, I'm only upset because you're upset, so... stop being upset."

"I-..." she sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. Are we good?"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for..."

"Just say we're good."

She let out a nervous laugh.

"Fine, we're good. I'm just surprised at how you're so cool with this."

"Well, friends bounce back quick, right?"

Her demeanor changed. The mood sunk.

"Bucky..."

"No, no. Don't sit there and tell me that now we aren't friends. You just pinky swore with me," he said with a meek smile, attempting to lift her mood back up. "C'mon, that counts for something."

She looked down at her hands, suddenly missing the skin-to-skin contact. "I just think it might be better to be more professional and less... personal."

"Better for who exactly? 'Cause I know it wouldn't be for me."

She turned her head to look at him, face earnest and contrite. He only looked confused and a little mentally disheveled.

"I want to make this new... plan thing work. If you don't want me to have to leave, we have to reinstate some sort of boundaries, Buck."

"So boundaries means throwing away being friends?"

"I'm not throwing it away. I want to make sure we can be successful, and to be successful we have to be a little more..." she took a breath in, hating how much she kept bringing up this word, "professional. We gotta have more good days than bad, you know?"

A few beats of silence passed them by. Bucky's expression softened to a dangerous level of sincerity.

"I think you are my good days..."

Y/N tore her gaze away. She couldn't do this. She wished he wouldn't say such gentle things; she was trying so hard. The tension in her heart began to frustrate her. And it was because of him. She wished her emotions weren't always so escalated in his proximity.

"How long were you outside for?" she changed the subject.

"All night."

"What?!"

"Just kidding. Only for a couple minutes. Why are you changing the subject?"

"I'm not."

"You really are. And you're uneasy."

Trying to deny feelings was harder when someone else called them out.

"Stop trying to analyze me."

"M'not analyzing. I'm just reading you."

Reading her?

"Reading me?"

"Yeah. You were looking at me, but now you turned away. You're bouncing your leg but otherwise you're completely still, tense, like you are when you're nervous. You're also turned away from me... kinda like you don't wanna be near me."

Yeah, because her heart felt like it was going to burst.

She stood up, walking away from him and his infuriating correctness. How dare he know her like that? Anger bubbled in her stomach. She faced him, arms crossed over her chest, as if shielding herself from his prying efforts to understand her personality. How dare he decipher her.

"Really?" she huffed, amped up nervousness morphing into irritation. "You barely slept last night, and it's not just noticeable because of the bags under your eyes. You do this thing when you're tired - you blink really slowly and then rub your eyes. It's subtle. How's that for reading? Oh, and you're more uncomfortable about having one arm than you let on. When you sit next to me, you always make sure to sit so that your arm is on my side. In fact, you're so bad at tolerating uncomfortable that you refuse to even think about getting a new therapist - even though it's the right thing to do - because you don't want to deal with the change."

She took a breath after expelling her vexation. Bucky stared at her with wide eyes, never before hearing her angry, much less at him.

"That's not why..." he all but whispered.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?"

"Apparently not," he rolled his eyes. "And I thought we made a deal."

"I think you should leave."

He looked up at her. "Y/N.."

She turned away from him, deciding she couldn't handle looking him in the eyes.

Glancing at the door, she muttered, "I'll see you at our next session."

"But— I thought..."

"A deal's a deal. I'll see you, Bucky."

The room was eerily silent until Bucky decided to move. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for something, anything out of her. Perhaps she was hasty, but there was no room for second thoughts, second emotions. She completely steeled herself. Feeling around him was just... a lot. A lot to deal with. Maybe too much.

"Okay," he said, voice quiet. "I'll see you... I guess."

With that, he left. He left her in an empty room with empty feelings and an empty hand. She looked down at that hand, the very same one that wrapped its finger around his in the lighthearted simplicity of a juvenile gesture. Joy with Bucky was like that - simple. Being happy was effortless with him. Yet, it was so troublesome to be displeased with him. She could sense another distressed night sleep coming her way.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance @ilovespideyyy @xpurpleglitter @bluelakeee @darkacademic2 @nickkie1129 @eclipsedplanet @paradisedixon @crazy-beautiful @coffee--writes @lauxrens @lilithknight1111 @buckybarnesishot310 @softladyhours @alwayssandy @quxxnxfhxll @those-sea-green-eyes @hero-ically @devilswaldorf @cc13723things @buckys1thiccbih @maravderofthephoenix

149 notes · View notes