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[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [12] - Pressure

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Having a high pressure job has its consequences.

Warnings: Explicit language, panic attacks.

Word Count: 4.9k

Series Masterlist

The news of the breakup spread like wildfire.

To be honest, you hadn’t expected anything different. This had to be one of the rare times that Caleb hated being in PR because even you could tell that he was working way too hard.

And of course, your name had been brought up multiple times, but so far there wasn’t anything actually threatening thanks to Bucky and Hazel having attended the gala together right before they broke up. 

“Mom, how did you know dad was the one?”

Your mother looked up from the bowl she was mixing the cake mixture in, then let out a laugh.

“What brought this on?”

“Just curious.” You dangled your legs from the high stool and sipped your coffee before putting the mug on the kitchen island. “Also, I would like to ask again, why are we in the kitchen? You don’t cook.”

“I’m baking.”

“You don’t bake either.”

“Well, one of the girls in my spiritual retreat said it would be a good bonding practice between mothers and daughters.”

You pulled your brows together.

“I guess today is good as any to start,” you murmured. “Fine, okay. We’re bonding, see? Tell me how you knew, other than the fact that he dazzled you with money.”

“Oh I didn’t care about the money.”

You tilted your head. “Uh, are you sure? I mean no offense obviously, but I always assumed money played a part. Safety and all that.”

“I did feel safe with him but that had nothing to do with the money.”

“So you were actually in love with him.”

“I was and I am.”

You made a face. “Oh come on, that I don’t buy. You can be honest, there’s no way you’re still in love with him.”

“Why not?”

You let out a laugh. “Because he’s evil?”

She rolled her eyes and started pouring the mixture into the cupcake tray. “He’s not evil, honey.”

“Well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean he has been bribing and extorting politicians for decades so that things work the way he wants them to work. That’s like, textbook bad. Disney movie bad.”

“Funny, I heard a lot of people say Bucky Barnes is a bad man, but you seem very eager to defend him.”

“That has nothing to do with—okay, let’s never ever put Bucky in the same category with dad ever again,” you said with a laugh. “It’s kind of like lumping The Night King and Jon Snow together.”

“I didn’t watch that show.”

“They’re like complete opposites.” You took another sip of your coffee. “Let me put it this way; Bucky would sacrifice his own life to save someone, dad would sacrifice the whole world to save himself.”

“And you, and me.”

You made a noise of disagreement.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you said. “You yes. Me, doubtful.”

“He does love you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shrugged your shoulders. “And I don’t mind, really.”

“He does,” your mother insisted. “It’s just that, you’re both very stubborn and don’t know how to communicate.”

“That and our political stances and our principles and our goals are very different.”

“So what?” she asked as if it was just trivial, and you scoffed a laugh.

“You seriously don’t mind what he does?” you asked. “All those people he hurt? All the corruption?”

“I’m not interested in what he does at work. I’m interested in what kind of a man he is with us, his family.”

You grimaced. “That’s not how it works, mom.”

“It’s how it works with me.”

You rubbed at your eyes, heaving a sigh. “I guess this just proves it.”

“Proves what?”

“I’ve always thought that…” you trailed off. “I’ve always thought you and him were just meant to be together, but I wasn’t supposed to be in the picture.”

“Never say that!” She gasped. “We love you!”

“That’s not it,” you said with a weak smile. “No, you guys make sense together, in some very weird and unhealthy way. But I don’t, you know what I mean?”

“That’s so not true,” she said, putting pieces of chocolate into the batter in the pan. “And as I’ve said, your father loves you and me. What he does at work doesn’t matter.”

“It actually does,” you said. “You might be able to pick and choose, but I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Is that why you broke up with Max?”

“That dickhead voted for the opposition.”

She turned to you. “Please tell me you didn’t break up with him over that.”

“See? It doesn’t matter to you,” you said. “But it matters to me. And hey, it’s a good thing I dumped him, apparently he was cheating on me anyway.”

Her jaw dropped and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “Aw I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” you said. “I mastered the art of detachment thanks to the revolving door of nannies you guys kept changing when I was little, so it’s okay.”

“Well, we just didn’t know who was the best for you.”

You bit at your lip to hold back your retort.

“How’s everything at work?” she asked. “Are those rumors still going on?”

“Well, to some extent but no picture or anything,” you said. “Just whispers.”

“And you like him?”

“Professionally, yes.”

Bullshit.

It was a good thing that your mother hardly ever spent time with you, she didn’t know how to read you.

The truth was that every day your feelings for Bucky were getting deeper. You knew that Hazel was right, you knew the risks but somehow, when you thought about him kissing you…

Your brain just refused to be logical.

Granted that didn’t mean you were going to throw all the caution to the wind, but you were wondering if something was wrong with you if that didn’t intimidate you as much as it was supposed to.

“A lot of my friends think he’s too handsome to be in politics.” Her voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “And they have a lot of questions.”

“About him?”

She hummed and walked to the oven to take a look at it. “Which button do I turn?”

You jumped from the stool to turn the button. “This one.”

“Aw thank you,” she said as she put the tray in, then closed it and turned to you. “So what’s he like?”

You took your seat again. “In politics?”

“In his daily life. Why did he and that girl break up?”

You cleared your throat. “Um, difference in opinions.”

“On what?”

“No idea, that’s what I’ve been told.”

She hummed, sitting down as well. “And you guys are close?”

“Professionally.”

“But you consider him a friend as well?” she asked. “I don’t know many people who are friends with their boss.”

“You don’t know many people with a boss.”

“Fair,” she admitted. “But that’s irrelevant. Tell me more about him, we’re all curious. Is he nice?”

“Oh absolutely.”

“To you? Even with all these rumors?”

You couldn’t help but smile, then nodded your head.

“He um…” you trailed off, biting your lip. “He’s amazing, mom. I know a lot of people think there are still traces of the Winter Soldier in him, but it’s not like that at all. He’s the sweetest, I’d trust him with my life. He even—”

You stopped yourself and your mother leaned in, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What?”

“He got Blinky back for me.”

She blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Who’s Blinky?”

Of course.

You hesitated for a second before you forced yourself to smile and shook your head.

“It’s not important,” you mumbled. “Anyways, enough about me, how was your retreat?”

                                                *

The next day, you didn’t even have the time to go to lunch. You had to work on the draft Bucky had asked you to, and of course you had volunteered to go over the revisions Lucas had sent you just so that you could impress Congresswoman Gray, and your phone kept buzzing with emails every two minutes.

And for some reason, everything was louder today.

You took a deep breath, willing your heartbeat to calm down as you clenched and unclenched your hands, staring at the screen before you deleted the last line, and added a new one.

“Please don’t tell me we’re back to skipping lunch for work.”

Your fingers froze over the keyboard before you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky watching you, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had a protein bar and like two cups of red eye, I’m fine.”

His worried gaze raked over you, making your heartbeat even faster.

“I thought we had a deal.”

“I’ll eat when I’m done with this.” You nodded at the screen and he came to lean against your desk, making you bite back a smile.

“Birdie.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh at his teasing tone and looked up at him. “Hm?”

“Let’s have lunch.”

“You literally came back from lunch.”

“I can eat again.” He started tilting the screen of your laptop down but you batted his hand away, then fixed the screen again. “It’s a metabolism thing.”

“Super soldier metabolism?”

“Mm hm.”

“Good for you, I’m too busy,” you said. “I already spent enough time doing nothing with my mom yesterday when I was supposed to go over this, so…”

“You were with your mom?” he asked. “How did that go?”

“Dad wasn’t home so it was fine. Ish.”

“Fine-ish?”

“My mom doesn’t really know much about me but the parts she knows, she loves to dismiss,” you said. “They make a terrific couple with my dad, terrible parents though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said. “Without them, my old therapist wouldn’t have been able to buy her second Ferrari, so I guess it wasn’t a total disaster.”

“And you can tell me all about it while we’re having lunch.”

You turned to your laptop. “Take a powder, Barnes.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the clear confusion on his face but it turned into an amused smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“How did you…?”

“Hey, I could have an extensive vocabulary.” You grinned at him. “You don’t know my lexicon.”

“Right. Why do I feel like you googled 40s slang?”

“I once saw you google if lavender is edible, so how about we stop pointing fingers?” you asked and he shook his head vigorously.

“In my defense, Kelsey got me a lavender latte and insisted I had to try it.”

“And what did you think? Your assistant was trying to poison you?”

He shot you a look as if you were asking him a question with a very obvious answer. “It’s Kelsey.”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Fair enough,” you said. “But come on, she—”

You stopped talking when your phone started buzzing, making both you and Bucky turn your glances to the screen, and you both frowned at the same time.

“He’s still calling you?” Bucky asked and held out his hand for you to give him the phone, but you shook your head.

“I’ll handle him,” you said and answered the phone. “Max, go fu—”

“Wait wait, don’t hang up,” he cut you off. “I swear, this will be very civil and you’re gonna want to listen to what I have to say.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair while Bucky kept his eyes on you.

“What?” you asked crossly and he took a deep breath.

“I saw that piece about you and Barnes.”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“A journalist contacted me,” he said in a rush. “He wanted to know whether there was anything going on between you and him while we were still dating.”

Your stomach dropped, your eyes snapping up to Bucky before you gritted your teeth.

“And let me guess,” you said. “You told him you’d think about it and now you’re calling me to ask for something.”

“No actually,” he said. “I told him we broke up because I cheated on you, because you put your career over our relationship, the very same career you wouldn’t risk for anyone much less your boss.”

You pulled back slightly. “…What?”

“I gathered ambitious bitch sounded better than greedy slut. Not that you’re either of those but you know, the guy was an asshole.”

 You let out a surprised laugh.

“You’re telling me you had the perfect opportunity to fuck with me and you didn’t take it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not asking for anything in return?”

“No, I just wanted to let you know,” he said. “If they called me, it means they’re working on a piece.” 

You frowned, drumming your fingernails on the desk.

“And why would you do this without asking for anything in return?”

He fell quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Tessa said she’d leave me if I didn’t go to therapy,” he said. “And my therapist made me realize it wasn’t cool, what I did. What with keeping Blinky and stuff.”

“By ‘stuff’ you mean cheating on me, or the ultimatum or going behind my back at voting?” you asked and he took a deep breath.

“Yeah. Sorry about all that.”

As much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, you figured this was at least just a little progress.

Very little, but either way.

“Well, what do you know?” you muttered. “I mean you’re still an asshole, that goes without saying but I appreciate the heads up.”

“My therapist says I have um… he says I am scared of emotional intimacy. That’s why I cheated on you, he says.”

“Yeah Max, because he can’t say you’re an asshole. You’re paying him.”

“I guess.” He snorted a laugh. “How’s DC?”

“Full of people who’d love to step on your back for their own gain. I haven’t slept in two days.”

Bucky shot you a disapproving look but you waved a hand in the air.

“So you’re having the time of your life?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s good—” He started but you heard another voice coming from the other line, probably his assistant. “I uh, sorry, I gotta go. Work thing.”

“I gathered,” you replied. “It’s almost five minutes.”

“…Yeah, that wasn’t cool either,” he said. “Also sorry about that.”

“Listen, how about I send you a list of things you should be sorry for and we can get all of them out the way?”

He let out a chuckle. “That’d make therapy so much easier. Can I call or email you to apologize then?”

“Call me and I’ll see if I’m in the forgiving mood,” you said and hung up, then looked up at Bucky.

“So, great news,” you said. “A journalist asked Max if you and I had an affair while I was with him, but he said no.”

“And he didn’t ask for anything in return?”

“He’s doing therapy, as it turns out,” you said. “My belief in psychology has been renewed because honestly, if they can make Max apologize…”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile and you bounced your leg, biting inside your cheek.

“We need to find who this journalist is.”

“I will.” His voice was completely calm. “And I’ll take care of it.”

“You can’t threaten him.”

“If he didn’t want me to threaten him, he shouldn’t have dragged you into whatever nonsense he’s working on,” he said, making your heart skip a beat. “That’s just not how it works.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “I thought I was the one protecting you.”

He winked at you. “It’s a two-way street.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he turned his head to look at the approaching footsteps before Caleb appeared at the door and let out a groan.

“I’m like two seconds away from assigning a chaperone to you like we’re in Georgian era,” he said. “Bucky, you might be familiar with that.”

“Wrong century, Caleb.”

“Well, how about we don’t start another fire when I’ve just extinguished the other one?”

You held up your hands and turned your attention to the screen, your cheeks burning and Bucky heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the desk.

“Make her eat something.”

“I will but did you have the chance to think about what I said?”

You looked between them. “What did you say?”

“Caleb thinks we all should have a barbeque at my new place,” Bucky said. “Something something PR.” 

“It would show you’re still relatable and that you’re doing fine after the breakup.”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” you mused. “I haven’t been to your new place yet, and I missed Alpine.”

“And the team would love it,” Caleb added and Bucky’s gaze stopped on you as if he was torn between ideas, then cleared his throat.

“Yeah, whatever,” he told Caleb who pumped his fist in the air in victory. “Just let me know when.”

“Will do!”

“And I’m not locking Alpine in the room,” he said as he walked into his office. “She gives me an attitude for days when I do that.”

Caleb approached you to plop down on the chair next to your desk.

“Thanks for convincing him.”

“I barely said anything.”

“Well, I’ve been begging him for a week and one word from you…” he trailed off and you shook your head, then turned to him.

“Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“There’s something you need to know as Bucky’s communications director.”

His grin wiped off his face in a second. “What?”

“There’s a journalist,” you said. “And apparently he’s been asking questions about me and Bucky.”

Caleb ran a hand over his face, cussing under his breath.

“Of course,” he said and pulled out his phone. “It was getting a bit too peaceful today, so why not? Be right back.”

You watched him walk out of the office and pressed your hands on your eyes before you dropped them, straightening your back.

“It’s fine,” you murmured to yourself as you turned your attention back to the screen. “It’s totally fine.”

                                      *

As your anxiety would show you; it was not, in fact, fine.

You had spent the whole day working, and now almost everyone had left but Kelsey and Bucky, both of whom were in a meeting with Congressman Murray.

And you. Working overtime.

It was already dark out, and the only thing illuminating the office was your laptop screen. You could feel the migraine slowly making its way to your temples. For the whole day, your chest hadn’t stopped feeling tight, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs especially after Max had told you about the journalist. In addition to all that, the work you had to cover was getting bigger and bigger, you still had one hundred pages to go over, and to make the necessary edits.

In other news, you might have bitten more than you could chew.

You typed away at the keyboard, forcing yourself to hum a melody in hopes of calming yourself down before you got up from your chair to make your way to Bucky’s office. You grabbed the file from his desk and went back to your desk, but before you could sit down, your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up.

From: Dad

We need to talk about the journalist.

And just like that, your line of sight grew narrow, darkness swallowing everything else other than the phone.

To your terror, you could feel the familiar tingling spreading over your face as your throat tightened, the breath you were taking getting stuck there. A fire burned through your chest, twisting your heart harder and harder while it tried to escape from your ribcage. You could feel your whole body beginning to shake, the floor getting wobbly underneath your feet like quicksand as you took a step back, grasping at your throat with one hand.

You’re not dying.

It’s a panic attack, you’re not dying.

Except that you were sinking.

You held onto the desk with one hand and managed to crouch down to sit on the floor as the room started spinning, your heart pounding in your ears. Nausea crashed down on you while you tried to get enough air in your lungs, your other hand balling up into fist tight enough to cramp.

You’re not dying.

You couldn’t even tell if it was tears or cold sweat running down your face; it was probably both. Your hand on your throat slipped down to your chest to press on it in hopes of soothing the pain there while you forced yourself to take another breath.

You’re not dying.

You see a laptop, you see a chair, you see a—

You hadn’t even heard Bucky stepping into the office before he rushed to you, his hands grasping your upper arms, almost frantically checking you for injuries like he wanted to see if you were bleeding.

“Birdie?”

“Not dying,” you managed to gasp out. “Panic attack.”

That made him stop only for a moment, a look of absolute relief crossing his face and he let out a breath.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re breathing very fast right now, can you breathe with me?”

You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath at the same time as him, then exhaled. For almost a minute, you followed his lead and once you weren’t breathing as fast, he gave you a small smile.

“There you go,” he said. “Five things you can see?”

That made your eyes snap to his as you took another breath. “How do you—?”

“Five things,” he said and you exhaled.

“Laptop,” you rasped out. “Chair. Papers. Desk. My fox figure on my desk.”

“Four things you can hear.”

You tried to focus, pulling your brows together.

“Your voice,” you said. “Footsteps from the hallway. AC.  Um…”

“One more.”

“The laptop running,” you said, pressing your palm on the floor. “And three things I can feel are…the marble floor, and sweat dripping down the back of my neck, which is fucking disgusting—”

“Birdie, focus.”

“And um, the wind. From the AC.”

“And two things you can—”

“Smell. Your cologne and paper. I just printed a bunch of stuff.” 

“And one thing you can taste?”

“Blood. I bit my tongue too hard.”

His eyes searched your face and you let out another shaky breath, exhaustion creeping up on you as you leaned your head back to the wall. Bucky hesitated for a second before he sat beside you, leaning back against the wall.

“How do you know grounding techniques?” you asked after a pause and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Mandatory therapy.”

“Ah,” you said, fixing your eyes on the ceiling. “Interesting.”

“And I’m guessing this is not your first panic attack?” he asked, making you scoff a laugh.

“Nope,” you said. “Been having them since I was like twelve.”

Bucky’s brows pulled into a frown. “Twelve?”

“Yup,” you said. “As it turns out, if you put too much pressure on a kid and yell at them whenever they didn’t meet the expectations, their brain gets messed up. Who would’ve known?”

“I’m going to kill your father.”

“You can’t,” you said. “If he’s dead, who’s gonna go around crossroads to make deals for people’s souls?”

“Birdie.”

“I’m fine,” you said even if your arms felt way too heavy when you raised your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead. “This happens, no big deal.”

“How often?”

“Not regular,” you said. “Sometimes. But let me tell you, I would not last a day back in the 1940s. I saw those documentaries, my husband would send me off to an asylum and they’d try to lobotomize—”

“I’m giving you time off.”

“Tough shit, I’m not taking it.”

He gave you a look. “I’ll change the locks to the office.”

“I’ll work in the hallway.”

He ran a hand over his face as if he was straining his mind to come up with a solution and you wiggled your brows despite exhaustion.

“Sorry. I guess you shouldn’t have hired me, huh?”

“If I hadn’t hired you, neither of us would be here,” he said and thought for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t be, at least. You would have probably made someone else win so you’d be here.”

“I wouldn’t have worked for someone else,” you murmured and he licked his lips.

“Please take some time off.”

“Nope.”

“You either take some time off, or I’m hiring someone to help you out with the workload.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky, no.”

“Bucky yes.”

“I don’t trust anyone else with what I do,” you said. “They’re gonna miss something, some detail and then I’ll have to go over what they did anyway.”

“Either vacation, or this,” he said, his voice signaling this was not open to discussion. “You’re not leaving me with many options here.”

“There is an option!” you exclaimed. “The system we have works.”

“It obviously doesn’t if you haven’t slept in two days and the workload is triggering a panic attack.”

“It didn’t though!” you insisted. “It’s a coincidence, not a chain of events.”

“I’m not risking it.”

You huffed out, slipping a little on the floor and crossing your arms while Bucky’s lips twitched into a fond smile.

“You’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting, I’m contemplating,” you corrected him and gritted your teeth, then rolled your eyes. “Fine. I’ll give the okay though, whoever you hire. I need to make sure they can handle this whole thing.”

“Didn’t think otherwise.”

You let out a noise of displeasure, exhaustion still heavy on your whole body and you leaned your head on his shoulder with a tired sigh. He dipped his head to nuzzle into your hair, making your stomach do a happy flip and you played with the bracelet around your wrist.

“Bucky?”

He hummed into your hair. 

“How did it go with Murray?”

He raised his lips from your hair so that you could hear him; “We’re not talking about work right now.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” you said with a pout. “How are you handling the breakup?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.”

You lifted your head and sat up straighter to look up at him better.

“Are you?” you insisted. “For real? Because I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. I mean no offense but Hazel is kind of perfect.”

“She is,” Bucky said immediately. “She really is, but I don’t think—uh, I don’t think I was the right person for her.

Your heart sped up again but this time instead of dread, all you could feel was excitement rushing through your veins.

“…Oh,” you managed to say. “Why not?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment, his gaze slipping down to your lips before it snapped up to your eyes again. You couldn’t help but notice his throat bobbed nervously, and he took a deep breath as if he was trying to gather up courage.

Which was insane.

You had seen him throw himself in danger over and over again without so much as a second of hesitation.

“Because,” he started, his voice soft, “Birdie, I—”

“Hello?” Kelsey’s voice carried out from the doorway, snapping both of you out of your daze. “Guys?”

You loved Kelsey but you could swear that the urge to scream at her was way too strong.

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment as if he shared the sentiment, then opened them again, his jaw tightening. You sat up straighter and raised your hand from beside the desk.

“Over here, Kels.”

“What the fuck are you two doing on the floor?” Kelsey asked as she made her way to you and you exchanged glances, then turned to her.

“I…we—uh—”

“I think better when I’m sitting on the floor,” Bucky cut you off and Kelsey tilted her head.

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s a habit from the 1940s.”

Kelsey looked from him to you while Bucky stood up, then offered his hand for you to take it, a warmth spreading from your hand to your arm. You were still exhausted, but you looked up at him and mouthed ‘thank you’. Bucky squeezed your hand in an assuring manner, and you turned to Kelsey.

“Are we going home?”

“Sure, let’s.”

“Call me when you get home?” Bucky murmured and you nodded your head, giving him a small smile, then grabbed your purse off the desk and followed Kelsey out of the office.

“Please don’t tell me you two were having sex on the office floor.”

You let out a laugh, then shook your head.

“We were talking about his ex,” you said and cracked your neck, making a face. “And oh, before I forget, Caleb says we’ll have a barbeque at Bucky’s place this Saturday.”

“At Bucky’s place?” she asked. “All of us?”

“Mm hm, the whole team and I think Sam and Sarah will come too.”

Kelsey grinned at you.

“Just let me know if you happen to find yourself in his bedroom and need me to distract others,” she joked. “During the house tour, that is.”

You pushed at her arm gently.

“There’s gonna be people there,” you reminded her. “Lots of people. Hypothetically, even if Bucky liked me like that—”

“Did they raise you in a convent?”

“That would still be impossible,” you said as if she didn’t interrupt you. “Which by the way, he doesn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t even think he finds me hot, to be honest with you,” you said. “It’s like Hazel said. He entertains my crush, that’s it.”

Kelsey threw her head back.

“You are so oblivious,” she groaned. “This barbecue—”

“Will be just a barbecue,” you said. “Some PR thing, that’s it. I assure you.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified [12] - Pressure

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Having a high pressure job has its consequences.

Warnings: Explicit language, panic attacks.

Word Count: 4.9k

Series Masterlist

The news of the breakup spread like wildfire.

To be honest, you hadn’t expected anything different. This had to be one of the rare times that Caleb hated being in PR because even you could tell that he was working way too hard.

And of course, your name had been brought up multiple times, but so far there wasn’t anything actually threatening thanks to Bucky and Hazel having attended the gala together right before they broke up. 

“Mom, how did you know dad was the one?”

Your mother looked up from the bowl she was mixing the cake mixture in, then let out a laugh.

“What brought this on?”

“Just curious.” You dangled your legs from the high stool and sipped your coffee before putting the mug on the kitchen island. “Also, I would like to ask again, why are we in the kitchen? You don’t cook.”

“I’m baking.”

“You don’t bake either.”

“Well, one of the girls in my spiritual retreat said it would be a good bonding practice between mothers and daughters.”

You pulled your brows together.

“I guess today is good as any to start,” you murmured. “Fine, okay. We’re bonding, see? Tell me how you knew, other than the fact that he dazzled you with money.”

“Oh I didn’t care about the money.”

You tilted your head. “Uh, are you sure? I mean no offense obviously, but I always assumed money played a part. Safety and all that.”

“I did feel safe with him but that had nothing to do with the money.”

“So you were actually in love with him.”

“I was and I am.”

You made a face. “Oh come on, that I don’t buy. You can be honest, there’s no way you’re still in love with him.”

“Why not?”

You let out a laugh. “Because he’s evil?”

She rolled her eyes and started pouring the mixture into the cupcake tray. “He’s not evil, honey.”

“Well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean he has been bribing and extorting politicians for decades so that things work the way he wants them to work. That’s like, textbook bad. Disney movie bad.”

“Funny, I heard a lot of people say Bucky Barnes is a bad man, but you seem very eager to defend him.”

“That has nothing to do with—okay, let’s never ever put Bucky in the same category with dad ever again,” you said with a laugh. “It’s kind of like lumping The Night King and Jon Snow together.”

“I didn’t watch that show.”

“They’re like complete opposites.” You took another sip of your coffee. “Let me put it this way; Bucky would sacrifice his own life to save someone, dad would sacrifice the whole world to save himself.”

“And you, and me.”

You made a noise of disagreement.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you said. “You yes. Me, doubtful.”

“He does love you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shrugged your shoulders. “And I don’t mind, really.”

“He does,” your mother insisted. “It’s just that, you’re both very stubborn and don’t know how to communicate.”

“That and our political stances and our principles and our goals are very different.”

“So what?” she asked as if it was just trivial, and you scoffed a laugh.

“You seriously don’t mind what he does?” you asked. “All those people he hurt? All the corruption?”

“I’m not interested in what he does at work. I’m interested in what kind of a man he is with us, his family.”

You grimaced. “That’s not how it works, mom.”

“It’s how it works with me.”

You rubbed at your eyes, heaving a sigh. “I guess this just proves it.”

“Proves what?”

“I’ve always thought that…” you trailed off. “I’ve always thought you and him were just meant to be together, but I wasn’t supposed to be in the picture.”

“Never say that!” She gasped. “We love you!”

“That’s not it,” you said with a weak smile. “No, you guys make sense together, in some very weird and unhealthy way. But I don’t, you know what I mean?”

“That’s so not true,” she said, putting pieces of chocolate into the batter in the pan. “And as I’ve said, your father loves you and me. What he does at work doesn’t matter.”

“It actually does,” you said. “You might be able to pick and choose, but I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Is that why you broke up with Max?”

“That dickhead voted for the opposition.”

She turned to you. “Please tell me you didn’t break up with him over that.”

“See? It doesn’t matter to you,” you said. “But it matters to me. And hey, it’s a good thing I dumped him, apparently he was cheating on me anyway.”

Her jaw dropped and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “Aw I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” you said. “I mastered the art of detachment thanks to the revolving door of nannies you guys kept changing when I was little, so it’s okay.”

“Well, we just didn’t know who was the best for you.”

You bit at your lip to hold back your retort.

“How’s everything at work?” she asked. “Are those rumors still going on?”

“Well, to some extent but no picture or anything,” you said. “Just whispers.”

“And you like him?”

“Professionally, yes.”

Bullshit.

It was a good thing that your mother hardly ever spent time with you, she didn’t know how to read you.

The truth was that every day your feelings for Bucky were getting deeper. You knew that Hazel was right, you knew the risks but somehow, when you thought about him kissing you…

Your brain just refused to be logical.

Granted that didn’t mean you were going to throw all the caution to the wind, but you were wondering if something was wrong with you if that didn’t intimidate you as much as it was supposed to.

“A lot of my friends think he’s too handsome to be in politics.” Her voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “And they have a lot of questions.”

“About him?”

She hummed and walked to the oven to take a look at it. “Which button do I turn?”

You jumped from the stool to turn the button. “This one.”

“Aw thank you,” she said as she put the tray in, then closed it and turned to you. “So what’s he like?”

You took your seat again. “In politics?”

“In his daily life. Why did he and that girl break up?”

You cleared your throat. “Um, difference in opinions.”

“On what?”

“No idea, that’s what I’ve been told.”

She hummed, sitting down as well. “And you guys are close?”

“Professionally.”

“But you consider him a friend as well?” she asked. “I don’t know many people who are friends with their boss.”

“You don’t know many people with a boss.”

“Fair,” she admitted. “But that’s irrelevant. Tell me more about him, we’re all curious. Is he nice?”

“Oh absolutely.”

“To you? Even with all these rumors?”

You couldn’t help but smile, then nodded your head.

“He um…” you trailed off, biting your lip. “He’s amazing, mom. I know a lot of people think there are still traces of the Winter Soldier in him, but it’s not like that at all. He’s the sweetest, I’d trust him with my life. He even—”

You stopped yourself and your mother leaned in, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What?”

“He got Blinky back for me.”

She blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Who’s Blinky?”

Of course.

You hesitated for a second before you forced yourself to smile and shook your head.

“It’s not important,” you mumbled. “Anyways, enough about me, how was your retreat?”

                                                *

The next day, you didn’t even have the time to go to lunch. You had to work on the draft Bucky had asked you to, and of course you had volunteered to go over the revisions Lucas had sent you just so that you could impress Congresswoman Gray, and your phone kept buzzing with emails every two minutes.

And for some reason, everything was louder today.

You took a deep breath, willing your heartbeat to calm down as you clenched and unclenched your hands, staring at the screen before you deleted the last line, and added a new one.

“Please don’t tell me we’re back to skipping lunch for work.”

Your fingers froze over the keyboard before you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky watching you, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had a protein bar and like two cups of red eye, I’m fine.”

His worried gaze raked over you, making your heartbeat even faster.

“I thought we had a deal.”

“I’ll eat when I’m done with this.” You nodded at the screen and he came to lean against your desk, making you bite back a smile.

“Birdie.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh at his teasing tone and looked up at him. “Hm?”

“Let’s have lunch.”

“You literally came back from lunch.”

“I can eat again.” He started tilting the screen of your laptop down but you batted his hand away, then fixed the screen again. “It’s a metabolism thing.”

“Super soldier metabolism?”

“Mm hm.”

“Good for you, I’m too busy,” you said. “I already spent enough time doing nothing with my mom yesterday when I was supposed to go over this, so…”

“You were with your mom?” he asked. “How did that go?”

“Dad wasn’t home so it was fine. Ish.”

“Fine-ish?”

“My mom doesn’t really know much about me but the parts she knows, she loves to dismiss,” you said. “They make a terrific couple with my dad, terrible parents though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said. “Without them, my old therapist wouldn’t have been able to buy her second Ferrari, so I guess it wasn’t a total disaster.”

“And you can tell me all about it while we’re having lunch.”

You turned to your laptop. “Take a powder, Barnes.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the clear confusion on his face but it turned into an amused smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“How did you…?”

“Hey, I could have an extensive vocabulary.” You grinned at him. “You don’t know my lexicon.”

“Right. Why do I feel like you googled 40s slang?”

“I once saw you google if lavender is edible, so how about we stop pointing fingers?” you asked and he shook his head vigorously.

“In my defense, Kelsey got me a lavender latte and insisted I had to try it.”

“And what did you think? Your assistant was trying to poison you?”

He shot you a look as if you were asking him a question with a very obvious answer. “It’s Kelsey.”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Fair enough,” you said. “But come on, she—”

You stopped talking when your phone started buzzing, making both you and Bucky turn your glances to the screen, and you both frowned at the same time.

“He’s still calling you?” Bucky asked and held out his hand for you to give him the phone, but you shook your head.

“I’ll handle him,” you said and answered the phone. “Max, go fu—”

“Wait wait, don’t hang up,” he cut you off. “I swear, this will be very civil and you’re gonna want to listen to what I have to say.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair while Bucky kept his eyes on you.

“What?” you asked crossly and he took a deep breath.

“I saw that piece about you and Barnes.”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“A journalist contacted me,” he said in a rush. “He wanted to know whether there was anything going on between you and him while we were still dating.”

Your stomach dropped, your eyes snapping up to Bucky before you gritted your teeth.

“And let me guess,” you said. “You told him you’d think about it and now you’re calling me to ask for something.”

“No actually,” he said. “I told him we broke up because I cheated on you, because you put your career over our relationship, the very same career you wouldn’t risk for anyone much less your boss.”

You pulled back slightly. “…What?”

“I gathered ambitious bitch sounded better than greedy slut. Not that you’re either of those but you know, the guy was an asshole.”

 You let out a surprised laugh.

“You’re telling me you had the perfect opportunity to fuck with me and you didn’t take it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not asking for anything in return?”

“No, I just wanted to let you know,” he said. “If they called me, it means they’re working on a piece.” 

You frowned, drumming your fingernails on the desk.

“And why would you do this without asking for anything in return?”

He fell quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Tessa said she’d leave me if I didn’t go to therapy,” he said. “And my therapist made me realize it wasn’t cool, what I did. What with keeping Blinky and stuff.”

“By ‘stuff’ you mean cheating on me, or the ultimatum or going behind my back at voting?” you asked and he took a deep breath.

“Yeah. Sorry about all that.”

As much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, you figured this was at least just a little progress.

Very little, but either way.

“Well, what do you know?” you muttered. “I mean you’re still an asshole, that goes without saying but I appreciate the heads up.”

“My therapist says I have um… he says I am scared of emotional intimacy. That’s why I cheated on you, he says.”

“Yeah Max, because he can’t say you’re an asshole. You’re paying him.”

“I guess.” He snorted a laugh. “How’s DC?”

“Full of people who’d love to step on your back for their own gain. I haven’t slept in two days.”

Bucky shot you a disapproving look but you waved a hand in the air.

“So you’re having the time of your life?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s good—” He started but you heard another voice coming from the other line, probably his assistant. “I uh, sorry, I gotta go. Work thing.”

“I gathered,” you replied. “It’s almost five minutes.”

“…Yeah, that wasn’t cool either,” he said. “Also sorry about that.”

“Listen, how about I send you a list of things you should be sorry for and we can get all of them out the way?”

He let out a chuckle. “That’d make therapy so much easier. Can I call or email you to apologize then?”

“Call me and I’ll see if I’m in the forgiving mood,” you said and hung up, then looked up at Bucky.

“So, great news,” you said. “A journalist asked Max if you and I had an affair while I was with him, but he said no.”

“And he didn’t ask for anything in return?”

“He’s doing therapy, as it turns out,” you said. “My belief in psychology has been renewed because honestly, if they can make Max apologize…”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile and you bounced your leg, biting inside your cheek.

“We need to find who this journalist is.”

“I will.” His voice was completely calm. “And I’ll take care of it.”

“You can’t threaten him.”

“If he didn’t want me to threaten him, he shouldn’t have dragged you into whatever nonsense he’s working on,” he said, making your heart skip a beat. “That’s just not how it works.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “I thought I was the one protecting you.”

He winked at you. “It’s a two-way street.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he turned his head to look at the approaching footsteps before Caleb appeared at the door and let out a groan.

“I’m like two seconds away from assigning a chaperone to you like we’re in Georgian era,” he said. “Bucky, you might be familiar with that.”

“Wrong century, Caleb.”

“Well, how about we don’t start another fire when I’ve just extinguished the other one?”

You held up your hands and turned your attention to the screen, your cheeks burning and Bucky heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the desk.

“Make her eat something.”

“I will but did you have the chance to think about what I said?”

You looked between them. “What did you say?”

“Caleb thinks we all should have a barbeque at my new place,” Bucky said. “Something something PR.” 

“It would show you’re still relatable and that you’re doing fine after the breakup.”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” you mused. “I haven’t been to your new place yet, and I missed Alpine.”

“And the team would love it,” Caleb added and Bucky’s gaze stopped on you as if he was torn between ideas, then cleared his throat.

“Yeah, whatever,” he told Caleb who pumped his fist in the air in victory. “Just let me know when.”

“Will do!”

“And I’m not locking Alpine in the room,” he said as he walked into his office. “She gives me an attitude for days when I do that.”

Caleb approached you to plop down on the chair next to your desk.

“Thanks for convincing him.”

“I barely said anything.”

“Well, I’ve been begging him for a week and one word from you…” he trailed off and you shook your head, then turned to him.

“Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“There’s something you need to know as Bucky’s communications director.”

His grin wiped off his face in a second. “What?”

“There’s a journalist,” you said. “And apparently he’s been asking questions about me and Bucky.”

Caleb ran a hand over his face, cussing under his breath.

“Of course,” he said and pulled out his phone. “It was getting a bit too peaceful today, so why not? Be right back.”

You watched him walk out of the office and pressed your hands on your eyes before you dropped them, straightening your back.

“It’s fine,” you murmured to yourself as you turned your attention back to the screen. “It’s totally fine.”

                                      *

As your anxiety would show you; it was not, in fact, fine.

You had spent the whole day working, and now almost everyone had left but Kelsey and Bucky, both of whom were in a meeting with Congressman Murray.

And you. Working overtime.

It was already dark out, and the only thing illuminating the office was your laptop screen. You could feel the migraine slowly making its way to your temples. For the whole day, your chest hadn’t stopped feeling tight, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs especially after Max had told you about the journalist. In addition to all that, the work you had to cover was getting bigger and bigger, you still had one hundred pages to go over, and to make the necessary edits.

In other news, you might have bitten more than you could chew.

You typed away at the keyboard, forcing yourself to hum a melody in hopes of calming yourself down before you got up from your chair to make your way to Bucky’s office. You grabbed the file from his desk and went back to your desk, but before you could sit down, your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up.

From: Dad

We need to talk about the journalist.

And just like that, your line of sight grew narrow, darkness swallowing everything else other than the phone.

To your terror, you could feel the familiar tingling spreading over your face as your throat tightened, the breath you were taking getting stuck there. A fire burned through your chest, twisting your heart harder and harder while it tried to escape from your ribcage. You could feel your whole body beginning to shake, the floor getting wobbly underneath your feet like quicksand as you took a step back, grasping at your throat with one hand.

You’re not dying.

It’s a panic attack, you’re not dying.

Except that you were sinking.

You held onto the desk with one hand and managed to crouch down to sit on the floor as the room started spinning, your heart pounding in your ears. Nausea crashed down on you while you tried to get enough air in your lungs, your other hand balling up into fist tight enough to cramp.

You’re not dying.

You couldn’t even tell if it was tears or cold sweat running down your face; it was probably both. Your hand on your throat slipped down to your chest to press on it in hopes of soothing the pain there while you forced yourself to take another breath.

You’re not dying.

You see a laptop, you see a chair, you see a—

You hadn’t even heard Bucky stepping into the office before he rushed to you, his hands grasping your upper arms, almost frantically checking you for injuries like he wanted to see if you were bleeding.

“Birdie?”

“Not dying,” you managed to gasp out. “Panic attack.”

That made him stop only for a moment, a look of absolute relief crossing his face and he let out a breath.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re breathing very fast right now, can you breathe with me?”

You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath at the same time as him, then exhaled. For almost a minute, you followed his lead and once you weren’t breathing as fast, he gave you a small smile.

“There you go,” he said. “Five things you can see?”

That made your eyes snap to his as you took another breath. “How do you—?”

“Five things,” he said and you exhaled.

“Laptop,” you rasped out. “Chair. Papers. Desk. My fox figure on my desk.”

“Four things you can hear.”

You tried to focus, pulling your brows together.

“Your voice,” you said. “Footsteps from the hallway. AC.  Um…”

“One more.”

“The laptop running,” you said, pressing your palm on the floor. “And three things I can feel are…the marble floor, and sweat dripping down the back of my neck, which is fucking disgusting—”

“Birdie, focus.”

“And um, the wind. From the AC.”

“And two things you can—”

“Smell. Your cologne and paper. I just printed a bunch of stuff.” 

“And one thing you can taste?”

“Blood. I bit my tongue too hard.”

His eyes searched your face and you let out another shaky breath, exhaustion creeping up on you as you leaned your head back to the wall. Bucky hesitated for a second before he sat beside you, leaning back against the wall.

“How do you know grounding techniques?” you asked after a pause and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Mandatory therapy.”

“Ah,” you said, fixing your eyes on the ceiling. “Interesting.”

“And I’m guessing this is not your first panic attack?” he asked, making you scoff a laugh.

“Nope,” you said. “Been having them since I was like twelve.”

Bucky’s brows pulled into a frown. “Twelve?”

“Yup,” you said. “As it turns out, if you put too much pressure on a kid and yell at them whenever they didn’t meet the expectations, their brain gets messed up. Who would’ve known?”

“I’m going to kill your father.”

“You can’t,” you said. “If he’s dead, who’s gonna go around crossroads to make deals for people’s souls?”

“Birdie.”

“I’m fine,” you said even if your arms felt way too heavy when you raised your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead. “This happens, no big deal.”

“How often?”

“Not regular,” you said. “Sometimes. But let me tell you, I would not last a day back in the 1940s. I saw those documentaries, my husband would send me off to an asylum and they’d try to lobotomize—”

“I’m giving you time off.”

“Tough shit, I’m not taking it.”

He gave you a look. “I’ll change the locks to the office.”

“I’ll work in the hallway.”

He ran a hand over his face as if he was straining his mind to come up with a solution and you wiggled your brows despite exhaustion.

“Sorry. I guess you shouldn’t have hired me, huh?”

“If I hadn’t hired you, neither of us would be here,” he said and thought for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t be, at least. You would have probably made someone else win so you’d be here.”

“I wouldn’t have worked for someone else,” you murmured and he licked his lips.

“Please take some time off.”

“Nope.”

“You either take some time off, or I’m hiring someone to help you out with the workload.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky, no.”

“Bucky yes.”

“I don’t trust anyone else with what I do,” you said. “They’re gonna miss something, some detail and then I’ll have to go over what they did anyway.”

“Either vacation, or this,” he said, his voice signaling this was not open to discussion. “You’re not leaving me with many options here.”

“There is an option!” you exclaimed. “The system we have works.”

“It obviously doesn’t if you haven’t slept in two days and the workload is triggering a panic attack.”

“It didn’t though!” you insisted. “It’s a coincidence, not a chain of events.”

“I’m not risking it.”

You huffed out, slipping a little on the floor and crossing your arms while Bucky’s lips twitched into a fond smile.

“You’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting, I’m contemplating,” you corrected him and gritted your teeth, then rolled your eyes. “Fine. I’ll give the okay though, whoever you hire. I need to make sure they can handle this whole thing.”

“Didn’t think otherwise.”

You let out a noise of displeasure, exhaustion still heavy on your whole body and you leaned your head on his shoulder with a tired sigh. He dipped his head to nuzzle into your hair, making your stomach do a happy flip and you played with the bracelet around your wrist.

“Bucky?”

He hummed into your hair. 

“How did it go with Murray?”

He raised his lips from your hair so that you could hear him; “We’re not talking about work right now.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” you said with a pout. “How are you handling the breakup?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.”

You lifted your head and sat up straighter to look up at him better.

“Are you?” you insisted. “For real? Because I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. I mean no offense but Hazel is kind of perfect.”

“She is,” Bucky said immediately. “She really is, but I don’t think—uh, I don’t think I was the right person for her.

Your heart sped up again but this time instead of dread, all you could feel was excitement rushing through your veins.

“…Oh,” you managed to say. “Why not?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment, his gaze slipping down to your lips before it snapped up to your eyes again. You couldn’t help but notice his throat bobbed nervously, and he took a deep breath as if he was trying to gather up courage.

Which was insane.

You had seen him throw himself in danger over and over again without so much as a second of hesitation.

“Because,” he started, his voice soft, “Birdie, I—”

“Hello?” Kelsey’s voice carried out from the doorway, snapping both of you out of your daze. “Guys?”

You loved Kelsey but you could swear that the urge to scream at her was way too strong.

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment as if he shared the sentiment, then opened them again, his jaw tightening. You sat up straighter and raised your hand from beside the desk.

“Over here, Kels.”

“What the fuck are you two doing on the floor?” Kelsey asked as she made her way to you and you exchanged glances, then turned to her.

“I…we—uh—”

“I think better when I’m sitting on the floor,” Bucky cut you off and Kelsey tilted her head.

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s a habit from the 1940s.”

Kelsey looked from him to you while Bucky stood up, then offered his hand for you to take it, a warmth spreading from your hand to your arm. You were still exhausted, but you looked up at him and mouthed ‘thank you’. Bucky squeezed your hand in an assuring manner, and you turned to Kelsey.

“Are we going home?”

“Sure, let’s.”

“Call me when you get home?” Bucky murmured and you nodded your head, giving him a small smile, then grabbed your purse off the desk and followed Kelsey out of the office.

“Please don’t tell me you two were having sex on the office floor.”

You let out a laugh, then shook your head.

“We were talking about his ex,” you said and cracked your neck, making a face. “And oh, before I forget, Caleb says we’ll have a barbeque at Bucky’s place this Saturday.”

“At Bucky’s place?” she asked. “All of us?”

“Mm hm, the whole team and I think Sam and Sarah will come too.”

Kelsey grinned at you.

“Just let me know if you happen to find yourself in his bedroom and need me to distract others,” she joked. “During the house tour, that is.”

You pushed at her arm gently.

“There’s gonna be people there,” you reminded her. “Lots of people. Hypothetically, even if Bucky liked me like that—”

“Did they raise you in a convent?”

“That would still be impossible,” you said as if she didn’t interrupt you. “Which by the way, he doesn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t even think he finds me hot, to be honest with you,” you said. “It’s like Hazel said. He entertains my crush, that’s it.”

Kelsey threw her head back.

“You are so oblivious,” she groaned. “This barbecue—”

“Will be just a barbecue,” you said. “Some PR thing, that’s it. I assure you.”

[dreamwritesimagines]

What does Birdies mom think of Bucky?

I think she is very curious about him! 😈 But she doesn't hate him like Birdie's dad hates him😂

I feel like she really wants to meet him😏

[dreamwritesimagines]

idk if you’d like to know but i got 15/20 on my thesis teehee I DESERVE THAT UPDATE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ when it comes to <333

Omg omg honeeey congratulations! 🩷🩷🩷

[dreamwritesimagines]

New chapter is coming today (Tuesday) 🩷

Declassified 12 - Sneak Peek

Series Masterlist

“Birdie.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh at his teasing tone and looked up at him. “Hm?”

“Let’s have lunch.”

“You literally came back from lunch.”

“I can eat again.” He started tilting the screen of your laptop down but you batted his hand away, then fixed the screen again. “It’s a metabolism thing.”

“Super soldier metabolism?”

“Mm hm.”

“Good for you, I’m too busy,” you said. “I already spent enough time doing nothing with my mom yesterday when I was supposed to go over this, so…”

“You were with your mom?” he asked. “How did that go?”

“Dad wasn’t home so it was fine. Ish.”

“Fine-ish?”

“My mom doesn’t really know much about me but the parts she knows, she loves to dismiss,” you said. “They make a terrific couple with my dad, terrible parents though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said. “Without them, my old therapist wouldn’t have been able to buy her second Ferrari, so I guess it wasn’t a total disaster.”

“And you can tell me all about it while we’re having lunch.”

You turned to your laptop. “Take a powder, Barnes.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the clear confusion on his face but it turned into an amused smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“How did you…?”

“Hey, I could have an extensive vocabulary.” You grinned at him. “You don’t know my lexicon.”

“Right. Why do I feel like you googled 40s slang?”

“I once saw you google if lavender is edible, so how about we stop pointing fingers?” you asked and he shook his head vigorously.

“In my defense, Kelsey got me a lavender latte and insisted I had to try it.”

“And what did you think? Your assistant was trying to poison you?”

He shot you a look as if you were asking him a question with a very obvious answer. “It’s Kelsey.”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Fair enough,” you said. “But come on, she—”

You stopped talking when your phone started buzzing, making both you and Bucky turn your eyes to the screen, and you both frowned at the same time.

“He’s still calling you?”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Honeeeey hi! 🥰

Oh that's such a good gif! 😂

Bucky was definitely heart eyes😏

I feel like Lucas's nickname is definitely embarassing, that's why he refuses to say it 😂

Birdie's dad can totally intimidate Birdie even if she pretends otherwise 😭

Birdie rushed to Hazel's hotel without so much as letting Bucky know asdfghjkl😂

CAN YOU IMAGINE IF SOMEONE SAID IT IN FRONT OF BUCKY!? 😈

Thank you so much, you're so sweet! 🥰

Declassified [11] - Warning Shot

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Some dances look more than just friendly.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, throwing up, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.5k

Series Masterlist

If it were any other time, this gala would be exciting.

It was the perfect opportunity to meet more politicians, get some inside information, and overall a good place to make an impression. However, your love life was a mess, you dreamt about Bucky every night while keeping your distance from him all day, so you had no idea how to even begin forming a game plan for the gala, or care about it.

Also, Bucky looked like he had one thousand questions about why you started avoiding him all of a sudden out of nowhere yet again but you had to admit, he was being very understanding and did not push you.

Then again, maybe his girlfriend played a part in it.

“Can I just skip this one?”

You and Kelsey exchanged glances and she rolled her eyes while you heaved a sigh, then checked your lipstick on the mirror.

“Caleb, get in here.”

“No seriously, DC has a bunch of charity galas I can join some other time—”

“Get in here!” You both called out at the same time and he huffed, then stepped into the living room, still fiddling with his bowtie. One simple observer would have thought he was being forced to go to war instead of a gala from the miserable look on his face, and you stifled your laugh while Kelsey walked to him to bat his hand away so that she could fix his bowtie.

“I look like a waiter.”

“You look like a handsome guy in a suit.”

“Handsome waiter in a suit.”

“Caleb,” Kelsey said patiently. “I will be Bucky’s shadow in that ballroom and running around the place on stilettos. I think you and your bowtie will be fine.”

“I can give you my shoes at the end of the night if you want,” Caleb said and Kelsey smiled at him.

“Not gonna turn down that offer, thank you.”

“Birdie?” Caleb turned to you and you winked at him.

“You look like a handsome PR manager in a suit.”

Caleb let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Anyone else feel like this is prom night?”

“I lost my virginity on prom night,” Kelsey mused, checking her phone and you raised your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at the back of the limo my date rented.”

You grinned. “Classy. I’ve never had sex in a car.”

“You’re telling me Five Minutes Comma Max wasn’t adventurous?” Caleb teased you. “Shocker.”

“I should make a list or something.”

“A sex list?”

“Yeah for like places and stuff.”

“Uber is here,” Kelsey said and you grabbed your purse off the coffee table while Caleb rolled his shoulders back. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you said. “Let’s go to prom.”

                                               *

This was not prom.

This was prom West Wing edition.

There were so many important people everywhere that you didn’t even know where to start. You could see your father talking to a senator at the corner of the ballroom, and the sight was enough to make your stomach do a nervous flip, but you cracked your knuckles, searching the room for—

Oh there he was.   

It wasn’t like you expected him not to look good in a suit but this was another level. For a couple of seconds, you let yourself stare at him; your heartbeat getting faster while he gave a curt smile to something Hazel said, then made a face and shook his head, making her laugh.

Jesus, they really did make a hot couple.

Jealous burned at the pit of your stomach but you frowned to yourself, trying to focus. Kelsey made her way to him while Caleb walked to one of the journalists he knew, and you took a deep breath, then approached him.

Professional.

You were going to be just professional and get through tonight, and then go home where you could whine all you wanted.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes. Miss Brooks.” You offered a smile to her which she acknowledged with a nod, but you made sure not to look at Bucky, instead lowering your glances to your phone in your hand. “Mr. Barnes, I think it could be a good idea to talk Congressman Murray tonight about the veteran bill proposal once you get the chance. He has military background, he supports getting more financial support to veteran families especially after the Blip, and he has already contacted us for next week, so it could be the first step to breaking the ice. I sent you the main points of the latest bill he proposed a couple of months ago, so if you’d like to take a look, it could help.”

Silence.

You pulled your brows together and looked up from your phone to find him staring at you in awe, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel your cheeks burning but you shot him a quizzical look, which made him clear his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed to say. “Can you repeat that?”

Oh this was not going to help this situation with Hazel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking between you while Kelsey bit back a smile, and you took a deep breath.

“Congressman Murray could help with the veteran bill, I sent you the details.”

“Ah,” he said. “Right, yeah. Which one is he?”

“That one.” Kelsey pointed at the man subtly and Bucky nodded like he was trying to focus.

“Okay.”

“I’d better go and see who else is here,” you said and walked away from them in a rush just so that you wouldn’t be alone with Hazel. You looked around and made your way to one of the waiters to grab a champagne flute from the tray he carried, then thanked him and took a huge sip of the champagne, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Wow.”

You looked over your shoulder, then smiled at Lucas and turned to see him better.

“Hi.”

He let out a breath, eyeing you up and down. “You look amazing, Hurricane.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, your smiling growing bigger. “Hey, how come you know my nickname and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I came to the Capitol before you.”

“Oh that’s how it works?”

“Mm hm,” he said solemnly. “Not to look like I’m pulling rank but…”

“But you are pulling rank?”

“But I am pulling rank,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “Sorry about that, but technically you’re a freshman and I’m a senior.”

“You’re a sophomore at best,” you deadpanned. “And in case you forgot, this freshman is helping you with that mess you call a draft.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, inspecting your nails nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“I mean I wouldn’t call it helping,” he teased you back. “More like I’m showing you the ropes.”

You let out a hum, swirling your champagne in the glass.

“I’ve seen first graders with better text cohesion.”

 “Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said calmly. “You know Lucas, there’s nothing wrong with being bad at things. We all have to start somewhere.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “For example, I was just like you when I was in college.”

“Oh, in college?”

“Lost…” You waved a hand in the air. “Clueless. Amateur. Poor in vocabulary.”

He made a face. “No you weren’t, you were the top of your class.”

You tilted your head. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways.” He motioned at you to keep going. “But back to dragging me.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “And then I worked very hard and then…here we are. It might take you longer but you’ll get there.”

“We should’ve called you Viper instead of Hurricane.”

“That does sound more badass than Hurricane—” you started but Lucas’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, his smile wiping off his face immediately, and you frowned before you heard your father’s voice.

“Do you mind, Lucas?”

Lucas looked from your father to you, then shifted his weight and heaved a sigh.

“See you later, Hurricane.”

Your father gave you a small smile as Lucas walked away and you turned to glare at him.

“Dad,” you said through your teeth. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Let’s be serious here, you can do better than a glorified assistant.” He scoffed. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m working.”

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. “You used to throw fits whenever your mother and I took you to events if we didn’t have our father-daughter dance.”

“Well in my defense, I was like eight,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the people who were dancing in the ballroom. “And half of the government wasn’t in the room. And I wasn’t working.”

“And how is it going at work?” he asked. “I saw Barnes talking to Murray just now. Let me guess, they’ll work together on the veteran bill?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah. And after Bucky is done talking to him, I’ll talk to Congressman Riley about our project for the education of children in low income families.”

“What’s next?” he asked. “We start handing out stacks of money on the street?”

“You have more than enough. Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“At the risk of sounding like a hopeless idealist, I happen to think some of the government money should be used for people in need instead of your buddies buying yachts,” you snarked. “I know it’s a little difficult to understand it for you, the idea of helping people.”

“We do help people, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the world is a much better place with your help.” You snorted and raised your glass in a mock of toast. “They don’t thank you enough.”

“Pumpkin, you know how it goes,” he said. “Some win and some lose. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with the rules for this game.”

“No but you keep rigging it,” you growled through your teeth, looking him in the eye. “And for most people, dad, it’s not a game. A lot of people are in need of help. Real help.”

“And you want to be Robin Hood.”

“I want to make a difference in the world,” you insisted. “I’m going to—I’m going to help people—”

“Before or after going on a date with your boss?”

That made you shut up immediately and you pulled back a little, searching your mind for the right words.

“I already talked to mom about this,” you managed to say. “That’s just lies.”

He hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t appreciate getting my name dragged into tabloid gossip,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “Any more than I appreciate seeing my daughter put herself in that situation.”

This—

Alright.

You could feel the familiar knots in your stomach, your throat tightening. This was exactly how it would go when you were little, your father’s voice turning into this, and the moment you opened your mouth to explain yourself, yelling would start. Panic was already giving you nausea but you managed to keep your expression flat before you downed your drink and put it on a tray a waiter was carrying just so that you could cross your arms to hide the trembling of your hands.

“I don’t control what the PR comes up with,” you pointed out. “And I didn’t put myself in any situation—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he cut you off, his voice low but stern. “I’m interested in solutions. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there dumbfounded as you felt your breath hitching in your throat.

No.

This was not happening, not right now and especially not here.

You darted through the ballroom as subtly as you could without getting any attention on you, then stepped out into the hallway to rush to the bathroom. You slammed the door open, then ran to the nearest stool to throw up, pushing the button to flush it before you put the lid down, and sat on top of it.

Your hands were still shaking and you closed your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing under control.

This was just nonsense. You weren’t a child anymore, your father couldn’t yell at you without you yelling back, and there was no way he would’ve tried to yell at you surrounded by all those people in the ballroom but—

But the fear of disappointing him was still enough to make you throw up.

It took you almost half an hour to pull yourself together. You massaged your temples, willing the headache to disappear before you stepped out of the stool, then walked to the sink to wash your hands, then kept them under the cold water.

The girl next to you gave you a sympathetic smile. “I hate these things too.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered. “Any chance you have mints?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She reached into her purse to pull out a pack of mints and you took one to pop it in your mouth.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Mel,” she said. “I work for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

“CIA.” You whistled. “Badass. I work for Congressman Barnes.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I knew I’ve seen you somewhere, in that—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and you heaved a sigh.

“That gossip piece, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry.”

“You weren’t rude,” you said. “No worries.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she checked it, then turned to you.

“Gotta go but it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said and turned to check your makeup in the mirror, then grabbed a tissue to dab at your eyes.

“Get your shit together,” you muttered to yourself and threw the tissue into the garbage can, then walked out of the bathroom. You slowly made your way toward the ballroom but when you felt your throat tightening, you huffed out and turned the nearest corner to another empty hallway, then sat on the stairs.

Fine, you apparently needed more time.

You didn’t even have the energy to check your phone that kept buzzing because that meant you needed to go into the ballroom, so you kept it in your lap while you wrung your hands, then cracked your knuckles one by one. Counting in your head, you took a deep breath, and leaned your forehead on your knees to focus before you exhaled.

“Here you are.”

It was almost funny how with just his voice he managed to pull you out of the spiral of your thoughts. You could feel your lips pulling into a small smile and you took another breath, then lifted your head to look up at him.

He was way too handsome.

“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes searching your face and you scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Drinking champagne on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just gonna take five and then go back. How about you, why are you here?”

“I don’t really like the whole…” He motioned in the direction of the ballroom and you raised your brows.

“Socializing in order to manipulate people?”

“That and just—people,” he admitted, then nodded at the stair you were sitting on. “Got room for one more person in there?”

You scooted over and he sat down next to you, making you let out a giggle.

“You do know that we’re supposed to be in there working people?”

“It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Still,” you said. “I doubt many politicians or employees are hiding from the crowd sitting on a staircase.”

“Well, you’re the only person I actually want to sit with tonight,” he said with a shrug, as if that didn’t make your stomach flutter. “What’s your excuse?”

Focus.

“How did it go with Murray?”

“He wanted me to share stories.”

“From the front?”

He nodded and you scrunched up your nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, then turned sideways to see him better, resting your chin on your fist.

“I wonder about that too sometimes, you know?”

He frowned. “The front?”

You shook your head. “Who you were back then. I mean I saw the footage with the Howling Commandos and Steve Rogers, and you were…” You paused for a second and sat up straighter, grinning at him. “Tell me who you were.”

“You know who I was,” he said as if the answer was obvious and you shook your head again.

“I’m not asking about Sergeant Barnes, or the Winter Soldier,” you told him. “I’m asking about James Bucky Barnes before the war.”

He raised his brows like he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. You had seen that look on his face before, a mixture of curiosity and longing as he fell into silence, trying to dig up a memory that wasn’t full of trauma or bloodshed, a memory that was warm and pleasant and carefree.

“Well, things were difficult even before the war,” he started. “But I think I was happy. Me and Steve, we basically grew up together. My mother would always put a plate on the table for him on Sunday breakfast.”

A soft smile warmed your face. “That’s sweet of her.”

“We would get in trouble sometimes, which she hated,” he said. “Me and Steve, we once went to Rockaway Beach, and had to come back to Brooklyn on the back of a freezer truck.”

“Wait, why?”

He let out a chuckle. “Well, Steve spent our money on hot dogs, and I was trying to impress this girl, Dot.”

Your grin widened. “Ah?”

“So I spent 3 dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her, which meant we had no money to go back, so we hitchhiked.”

You pulled out your phone.

“I need to check something, give me a second,” you said and quickly typed it into google, then gasped.

“3 dollars back then is— Bucky, you spent 70 dollars on a stuffed bear to impress a girl?” you exclaimed. “During Great Depression?”

“Mm hm.”

“Please tell me you did win the goddamn stuffed bear.”

“I did actually,” he said with a smirk. “And she was impressed, so money well spent.”

“So in your order of priorities,” you said, motioning with your hands, “impressing the girl was higher than going back to Brooklyn safe and sound? And comfortable?”

“Yeah, she was pretty.”

“And that’s enough reason?” You gawked at him. “She was pretty?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. And she wanted the stuffed bear.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile and heaved a sigh, then leaned back to narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it wasn’t just a rumor. You really were a charming ladies’ man back then.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “That’s not exactly…”

“Bucky, you looked like this.” You gestured at his face. “And I saw you in that footage, with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos. Come on, you were popular with women, it’s very obvious.”

That boyish smile pulled at his lips again. “Someone had to make sure Steve got a date, and double dates were all the rage back then.”

“Oh I’m sure you did all that for him.” You played along with a pout. “Of course. Did you use to dance as well?”

“I did, actually. Steve hated it, I didn’t mind.”

You hummed, fixing the silky skirts of your dress as you crossed your legs and he eyed you up and down, then leaned in so that you could hear his teasing tone.

“Do you wanna dance?”

That made your head whip around and you gawked at him before you snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s go dance in the ballroom full of people we work with, and the media,” you said. “After that PR disaster? Terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it had to be in the ballroom,” he said and stood up to offer you his hand, awakening butterflies in your stomach.

“Bucky…”

“It’s a waste of music if a pretty dame like you isn’t dancing to it darlin’,” he said with that old Brooklyn accent, a laugh spilling from your mouth before you scrunched up your face in embarrassment, then took his hand, a fire spreading from your fingers to your whole body.

“God, no wonder why Dot was impressed,” you said as he pulled you closer and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Is that right?”

It felt like your heart was trying to climb out of your chest and a giggle bloomed in your throat as he twirled you, then pulled you closer again.

“So this is James Bucky Barnes,” you mused. “I like him. I’d probably work for him back in the 1940s if he decided to get in politics.”

“He didn’t have any plans for politics, trust me.”

“Yeah well, it wouldn’t stop me. I’d talk him into it.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of him, the rare sound making you smile wide.

“I’d make him hire me,” you said. “Through Dot, by the way. Convince the wife and get the husband situation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah I don’t think he would up with Dot.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?”

“Because he is an idiot,” he said softly as you both swayed with music. “He messed things up with her.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you gulped, realizing that you weren't talking about Dot anymore.

“Beyond saving?”

“Feels that way.”

You scrunched up your nose. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, he backed himself into a corner,” he said, sadness etched on his handsome face. “Right person, wrong time.”

You could hardly hear him from the rush of blood in your ears, but you managed to shrug your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe it’s just another excuse for him to torture himself. I mean, time has to give him a break at some point, so they just need to find the corner their lines cross.”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could say anything, you both heard the sound of heels on the marble floor and you pulled your hand from his, stepping out of his embrace even if your body urged you not to. You fixed your hair just so that you could keep your hands busy and Kelsey appeared at the corner, then pulled her brows together.

“Hi,” she said after a beat. “Bucky, Caleb was looking for you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at you. “Are you…?”

“I actually need to borrow her for a moment,” Kelsey said and you motioned at the ballroom.

“You go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky walked past Kelsey to make his way into the ballroom and Kelsey approached you.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Long story,” you said. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Is everything okay in there?”

“I just saw Hazel leave,” she said. “Caleb thinks it’s an urgent business thing, she’s been here all week.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“That’s what Caleb wanted to ask him I think,” she said, linking her arm with yours. “Now come on. You can’t leave me alone with those assholes, and I think I’ve been flirting with a journalist so you need to tell me whether he’s hot or just tall.”

                                               *

Apparently, Hazel had left without letting Bucky know, so he had left as well to make sure she was alright, which meant you and Kelsey and Caleb could go home.

“We should’ve stolen a champagne bottle or something,” Caleb said while he laid on the floor on his back and you played with the corner of the pillow you were sitting on.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go to a gala. So the journalist, Kels?”

“He is kinda cute,” Kelsey said. “Like a puppy.”

“But he’s a journalist,” Caleb said. “I mean, can he be trusted?”

“Caleb, this is yet another instance we have to remind you that we work in politics,” you said, motioning between you. “Journalists think the same about us.”

“You work in politics, I work in communications.”

“Communications in politics.”

“That’s a detail though—” he started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing.

“At this hour?” Kelsey asked as Caleb sat up and answered the phone while you leaned in to hear what it was about.

“Hello? Yes, this is he.” Caleb said and listened to the other line, his eyes widening.

“What?” you whispered and he motioned at you to be silent, standing up to pace in the room. He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a breath.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes didn’t bring me up to speed I’m afraid,” he said, his gaze snapping to you before he mouthed ‘What the fuck’ and nodded as if the other person could see him. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea. Do you have my email address? Okay, great, I’ll check it out right now and get back to you, and we can put it out. Thank you, have a nice evening.”

He hung up and whirled on his heels to look at you and Kelsey.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“That was Hazel’s PR team.” He held up his phone. “They want to check in with me to see if their statement is in line with ours.”

“What statement?”

“Their break up statement.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him, disbelief crashing down on you while you reached to hold Kelsey’s arm.

“What?”

“I—what happened while you two were in that hallway?” Caleb asked you and you shook your head.

“We just danced,” you insisted while his eyes darted on the lines on his screen. “I swear. We were dancing and joking about his past—”

“Right before Kelsey found you?”

“Yeah!”

Caleb gritted his teeth and turned to Kelsey.

“And you found them right after Hazel left?”

A look of realization dawned on Kelsey’s face. “…Yeah.”

“No that’s not related,” you insisted, jumping on your feet. “I would’ve noticed if she saw us, or Bucky would—”

“A bunch of people were coming and going to the hallway next to it, he easily could’ve chalked it up to anyone else passing there.”

Your heart was pounding in your head as you covered your mouth.

“Good news is, there’s literally nothing about you on this statement,” Caleb murmured, his attention on his phone. “And her team said nothing about it either—shit, did we have her sign an NDA?”

“Knowing Bucky? I doubt it,” Kelsey said while Caleb touched his screen, then put the phone to his ear.

“Bucky,” he said, making your head whip up. “Hey. Yeah she’s fine. Yeah, I’m fine too. Uh…so friendly reminder, you’re supposed to tell me if you broke up with your girlfriend so that I can put out a statement before her team calls me. Because—” Caleb threw his hand in the air in exasperation. “Because that’s how it works. No, forget what I said about the Bachelor. Did you have her sign anything?” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you didn’t. Okay, I need you to tell me what happened in detail.”

You rushed to your room to change into a t-shirt and jeans as fast as you could, then stepped into the living room again.

“Are you going to Bucky’s place?” Kelsey whispered while Caleb kept pacing in the room, trying to convince Bucky that privacy didn’t exist in a situation like this, and you shook your head, making her frown.

“Then what—Birdie, no.” Her voice was stern as she realized what you were about to do. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What hotel is she staying at, Kels?”

“You’re the last person she wants to see, you do realize that?”

“And I owe her an explanation, you know that,” you said. “There’s no way she is at Bucky’s place, so what hotel?”

Kelsey pulled out her phone with a sigh, then touched the screen for a minute before your phone vibrated.

“There, the location, and the room number,” she said. “Bucky went there the other day.”

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing your coat on your way to the door. “I’ll text you.”

With that, you slammed the door behind you and rushed outside, raising your hand for a taxi.

                                        *

You knew Hazel didn’t want to see you.

You couldn’t even blame her. You had a pretty clear idea how that dance would look to an outsider, much less to her.

But you knew you had to explain yourself, and apologize.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as the elevator door opened, the door at the end of the hallway greeting you. Letting out a breath, you rolled your shoulders back and forced yourself to approach the door, then raised your fist to knock on it and stepped back, clasping your hands to stop the shaking.

Hazel scoffed a laugh when she opened the door.

“Oh this is gonna be fun,” she said, her voice calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Finished your dance?”

You closed your eyes for a second before you opened them.

“Miss Brooks, I’m really sorry,” you started, making her raise her brows as if she was amused. “I know how it looks like, but I swear to you nothing happened. I was feeling bad, that’s why I left the ballroom, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, I assure you—”

“Oh, you guys aren’t sleeping together.” Hazel waved a hand in the air. “But there is something between you. You know it, I know it, and Bucky also knows it even if he likes to pretend otherwise. He knew it throughout the time he was trying to make himself fall in love with me.”

You pulled back slightly, straining your mind to find the right thing to say.

“Miss Brooks—”

“I’m not going to say anything to the press,” she said. “So if that’s why you’re here, you can go away.”

You shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

Hazel held your gaze in hers as if she was trying to find any sign of dishonesty, then let out a breath.

“Listen, I’m going to show you this courtesy only because I’m not proud of how I treated you back in that bathroom,” she said. “I was still pretty angry, but blaming you makes no sense. That’s not the type of person I am, or the type of person I want to be.”

You wrung your hands, staring at her.

“I mean I asked him to fire you,” she said after a beat. “Not my proudest moment.”

“I get it,” you rasped out and she took a deep breath.

“And I hope you understand what I’m about to say doesn’t come from a place of hostility,” she said. “But from woman to woman? Don’t do it.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, your throat tightening.

“You know how it goes,” she said, her voice almost sad. “You’ve seen how quick the public was to forgive him for everything. His PR was good but no PR is that good, they want to love him. The guy is a superhero, he could walk away from politics today and it wouldn’t make any difference. They will still love him.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, nodding your head.

“So you know what will happen,” she said. “This is one of the rare things that hasn’t changed since the 40s, no matter what anyone says. He will be their hero, and you will be the whore.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“I need you to understand that,” she told you. “Doesn’t matter if I like you or not, I wouldn’t wish it upon any woman. They will fucking tear you apart, and trust me, not even the big bad Winter Soldier can protect you from that.”  

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

“And he doesn’t even see it.” She scoffed a laugh. “But you do. You’re smart, something inside you has to be warning you against this. You know the moment he steps out with you, he will be throwing you to the wolves.”

Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and you nodded again, heaving a shaky sigh while she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

She closed the door and you balled your hands into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms to focus on anything other than the tears falling from your eyes. You slowly made your way to the elevator to step in, watching the doors close.

And then you started sobbing.

[dreamwritesimagines]

hey queen!!! will we be getting chap 12 today or tmrw? no rush ❤️❤️❤️

Hi my love! 🥰

We're getting it tomorrow🥰 And I'm so excitedddd, I hope you'll like it! 🥰

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Fluff and then angst😈😈😈

Declassified [11] - Warning Shot

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Some dances look more than just friendly.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, throwing up, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.5k

Series Masterlist

If it were any other time, this gala would be exciting.

It was the perfect opportunity to meet more politicians, get some inside information, and overall a good place to make an impression. However, your love life was a mess, you dreamt about Bucky every night while keeping your distance from him all day, so you had no idea how to even begin forming a game plan for the gala, or care about it.

Also, Bucky looked like he had one thousand questions about why you started avoiding him all of a sudden out of nowhere yet again but you had to admit, he was being very understanding and did not push you.

Then again, maybe his girlfriend played a part in it.

“Can I just skip this one?”

You and Kelsey exchanged glances and she rolled her eyes while you heaved a sigh, then checked your lipstick on the mirror.

“Caleb, get in here.”

“No seriously, DC has a bunch of charity galas I can join some other time—”

“Get in here!” You both called out at the same time and he huffed, then stepped into the living room, still fiddling with his bowtie. One simple observer would have thought he was being forced to go to war instead of a gala from the miserable look on his face, and you stifled your laugh while Kelsey walked to him to bat his hand away so that she could fix his bowtie.

“I look like a waiter.”

“You look like a handsome guy in a suit.”

“Handsome waiter in a suit.”

“Caleb,” Kelsey said patiently. “I will be Bucky’s shadow in that ballroom and running around the place on stilettos. I think you and your bowtie will be fine.”

“I can give you my shoes at the end of the night if you want,” Caleb said and Kelsey smiled at him.

“Not gonna turn down that offer, thank you.”

“Birdie?” Caleb turned to you and you winked at him.

“You look like a handsome PR manager in a suit.”

Caleb let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Anyone else feel like this is prom night?”

“I lost my virginity on prom night,” Kelsey mused, checking her phone and you raised your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at the back of the limo my date rented.”

You grinned. “Classy. I’ve never had sex in a car.”

“You’re telling me Five Minutes Comma Max wasn’t adventurous?” Caleb teased you. “Shocker.”

“I should make a list or something.”

“A sex list?”

“Yeah for like places and stuff.”

“Uber is here,” Kelsey said and you grabbed your purse off the coffee table while Caleb rolled his shoulders back. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you said. “Let’s go to prom.”

                                               *

This was not prom.

This was prom West Wing edition.

There were so many important people everywhere that you didn’t even know where to start. You could see your father talking to a senator at the corner of the ballroom, and the sight was enough to make your stomach do a nervous flip, but you cracked your knuckles, searching the room for—

Oh there he was.   

It wasn’t like you expected him not to look good in a suit but this was another level. For a couple of seconds, you let yourself stare at him; your heartbeat getting faster while he gave a curt smile to something Hazel said, then made a face and shook his head, making her laugh.

Jesus, they really did make a hot couple.

Jealous burned at the pit of your stomach but you frowned to yourself, trying to focus. Kelsey made her way to him while Caleb walked to one of the journalists he knew, and you took a deep breath, then approached him.

Professional.

You were going to be just professional and get through tonight, and then go home where you could whine all you wanted.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes. Miss Brooks.” You offered a smile to her which she acknowledged with a nod, but you made sure not to look at Bucky, instead lowering your glances to your phone in your hand. “Mr. Barnes, I think it could be a good idea to talk Congressman Murray tonight about the veteran bill proposal once you get the chance. He has military background, he supports getting more financial support to veteran families especially after the Blip, and he has already contacted us for next week, so it could be the first step to breaking the ice. I sent you the main points of the latest bill he proposed a couple of months ago, so if you’d like to take a look, it could help.”

Silence.

You pulled your brows together and looked up from your phone to find him staring at you in awe, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel your cheeks burning but you shot him a quizzical look, which made him clear his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed to say. “Can you repeat that?”

Oh this was not going to help this situation with Hazel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking between you while Kelsey bit back a smile, and you took a deep breath.

“Congressman Murray could help with the veteran bill, I sent you the details.”

“Ah,” he said. “Right, yeah. Which one is he?”

“That one.” Kelsey pointed at the man subtly and Bucky nodded like he was trying to focus.

“Okay.”

“I’d better go and see who else is here,” you said and walked away from them in a rush just so that you wouldn’t be alone with Hazel. You looked around and made your way to one of the waiters to grab a champagne flute from the tray he carried, then thanked him and took a huge sip of the champagne, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Wow.”

You looked over your shoulder, then smiled at Lucas and turned to see him better.

“Hi.”

He let out a breath, eyeing you up and down. “You look amazing, Hurricane.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, your smiling growing bigger. “Hey, how come you know my nickname and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I came to the Capitol before you.”

“Oh that’s how it works?”

“Mm hm,” he said solemnly. “Not to look like I’m pulling rank but…”

“But you are pulling rank?”

“But I am pulling rank,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “Sorry about that, but technically you’re a freshman and I’m a senior.”

“You’re a sophomore at best,” you deadpanned. “And in case you forgot, this freshman is helping you with that mess you call a draft.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, inspecting your nails nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“I mean I wouldn’t call it helping,” he teased you back. “More like I’m showing you the ropes.”

You let out a hum, swirling your champagne in the glass.

“I’ve seen first graders with better text cohesion.”

 “Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said calmly. “You know Lucas, there’s nothing wrong with being bad at things. We all have to start somewhere.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “For example, I was just like you when I was in college.”

“Oh, in college?”

“Lost…” You waved a hand in the air. “Clueless. Amateur. Poor in vocabulary.”

He made a face. “No you weren’t, you were the top of your class.”

You tilted your head. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways.” He motioned at you to keep going. “But back to dragging me.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “And then I worked very hard and then…here we are. It might take you longer but you’ll get there.”

“We should’ve called you Viper instead of Hurricane.”

“That does sound more badass than Hurricane—” you started but Lucas’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, his smile wiping off his face immediately, and you frowned before you heard your father’s voice.

“Do you mind, Lucas?”

Lucas looked from your father to you, then shifted his weight and heaved a sigh.

“See you later, Hurricane.”

Your father gave you a small smile as Lucas walked away and you turned to glare at him.

“Dad,” you said through your teeth. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Let’s be serious here, you can do better than a glorified assistant.” He scoffed. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m working.”

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. “You used to throw fits whenever your mother and I took you to events if we didn’t have our father-daughter dance.”

“Well in my defense, I was like eight,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the people who were dancing in the ballroom. “And half of the government wasn’t in the room. And I wasn’t working.”

“And how is it going at work?” he asked. “I saw Barnes talking to Murray just now. Let me guess, they’ll work together on the veteran bill?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah. And after Bucky is done talking to him, I’ll talk to Congressman Riley about our project for the education of children in low income families.”

“What’s next?” he asked. “We start handing out stacks of money on the street?”

“You have more than enough. Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“At the risk of sounding like a hopeless idealist, I happen to think some of the government money should be used for people in need instead of your buddies buying yachts,” you snarked. “I know it’s a little difficult to understand it for you, the idea of helping people.”

“We do help people, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the world is a much better place with your help.” You snorted and raised your glass in a mock of toast. “They don’t thank you enough.”

“Pumpkin, you know how it goes,” he said. “Some win and some lose. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with the rules for this game.”

“No but you keep rigging it,” you growled through your teeth, looking him in the eye. “And for most people, dad, it’s not a game. A lot of people are in need of help. Real help.”

“And you want to be Robin Hood.”

“I want to make a difference in the world,” you insisted. “I’m going to—I’m going to help people—”

“Before or after going on a date with your boss?”

That made you shut up immediately and you pulled back a little, searching your mind for the right words.

“I already talked to mom about this,” you managed to say. “That’s just lies.”

He hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t appreciate getting my name dragged into tabloid gossip,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “Any more than I appreciate seeing my daughter put herself in that situation.”

This—

Alright.

You could feel the familiar knots in your stomach, your throat tightening. This was exactly how it would go when you were little, your father’s voice turning into this, and the moment you opened your mouth to explain yourself, yelling would start. Panic was already giving you nausea but you managed to keep your expression flat before you downed your drink and put it on a tray a waiter was carrying just so that you could cross your arms to hide the trembling of your hands.

“I don’t control what the PR comes up with,” you pointed out. “And I didn’t put myself in any situation—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he cut you off, his voice low but stern. “I’m interested in solutions. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there dumbfounded as you felt your breath hitching in your throat.

No.

This was not happening, not right now and especially not here.

You darted through the ballroom as subtly as you could without getting any attention on you, then stepped out into the hallway to rush to the bathroom. You slammed the door open, then ran to the nearest stool to throw up, pushing the button to flush it before you put the lid down, and sat on top of it.

Your hands were still shaking and you closed your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing under control.

This was just nonsense. You weren’t a child anymore, your father couldn’t yell at you without you yelling back, and there was no way he would’ve tried to yell at you surrounded by all those people in the ballroom but—

But the fear of disappointing him was still enough to make you throw up.

It took you almost half an hour to pull yourself together. You massaged your temples, willing the headache to disappear before you stepped out of the stool, then walked to the sink to wash your hands, then kept them under the cold water.

The girl next to you gave you a sympathetic smile. “I hate these things too.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered. “Any chance you have mints?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She reached into her purse to pull out a pack of mints and you took one to pop it in your mouth.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Mel,” she said. “I work for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

“CIA.” You whistled. “Badass. I work for Congressman Barnes.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I knew I’ve seen you somewhere, in that—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and you heaved a sigh.

“That gossip piece, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry.”

“You weren’t rude,” you said. “No worries.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she checked it, then turned to you.

“Gotta go but it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said and turned to check your makeup in the mirror, then grabbed a tissue to dab at your eyes.

“Get your shit together,” you muttered to yourself and threw the tissue into the garbage can, then walked out of the bathroom. You slowly made your way toward the ballroom but when you felt your throat tightening, you huffed out and turned the nearest corner to another empty hallway, then sat on the stairs.

Fine, you apparently needed more time.

You didn’t even have the energy to check your phone that kept buzzing because that meant you needed to go into the ballroom, so you kept it in your lap while you wrung your hands, then cracked your knuckles one by one. Counting in your head, you took a deep breath, and leaned your forehead on your knees to focus before you exhaled.

“Here you are.”

It was almost funny how with just his voice he managed to pull you out of the spiral of your thoughts. You could feel your lips pulling into a small smile and you took another breath, then lifted your head to look up at him.

He was way too handsome.

“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes searching your face and you scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Drinking champagne on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just gonna take five and then go back. How about you, why are you here?”

“I don’t really like the whole…” He motioned in the direction of the ballroom and you raised your brows.

“Socializing in order to manipulate people?”

“That and just—people,” he admitted, then nodded at the stair you were sitting on. “Got room for one more person in there?”

You scooted over and he sat down next to you, making you let out a giggle.

“You do know that we’re supposed to be in there working people?”

“It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Still,” you said. “I doubt many politicians or employees are hiding from the crowd sitting on a staircase.”

“Well, you’re the only person I actually want to sit with tonight,” he said with a shrug, as if that didn’t make your stomach flutter. “What’s your excuse?”

Focus.

“How did it go with Murray?”

“He wanted me to share stories.”

“From the front?”

He nodded and you scrunched up your nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, then turned sideways to see him better, resting your chin on your fist.

“I wonder about that too sometimes, you know?”

He frowned. “The front?”

You shook your head. “Who you were back then. I mean I saw the footage with the Howling Commandos and Steve Rogers, and you were…” You paused for a second and sat up straighter, grinning at him. “Tell me who you were.”

“You know who I was,” he said as if the answer was obvious and you shook your head again.

“I’m not asking about Sergeant Barnes, or the Winter Soldier,” you told him. “I’m asking about James Bucky Barnes before the war.”

He raised his brows like he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. You had seen that look on his face before, a mixture of curiosity and longing as he fell into silence, trying to dig up a memory that wasn’t full of trauma or bloodshed, a memory that was warm and pleasant and carefree.

“Well, things were difficult even before the war,” he started. “But I think I was happy. Me and Steve, we basically grew up together. My mother would always put a plate on the table for him on Sunday breakfast.”

A soft smile warmed your face. “That’s sweet of her.”

“We would get in trouble sometimes, which she hated,” he said. “Me and Steve, we once went to Rockaway Beach, and had to come back to Brooklyn on the back of a freezer truck.”

“Wait, why?”

He let out a chuckle. “Well, Steve spent our money on hot dogs, and I was trying to impress this girl, Dot.”

Your grin widened. “Ah?”

“So I spent 3 dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her, which meant we had no money to go back, so we hitchhiked.”

You pulled out your phone.

“I need to check something, give me a second,” you said and quickly typed it into google, then gasped.

“3 dollars back then is— Bucky, you spent 70 dollars on a stuffed bear to impress a girl?” you exclaimed. “During Great Depression?”

“Mm hm.”

“Please tell me you did win the goddamn stuffed bear.”

“I did actually,” he said with a smirk. “And she was impressed, so money well spent.”

“So in your order of priorities,” you said, motioning with your hands, “impressing the girl was higher than going back to Brooklyn safe and sound? And comfortable?”

“Yeah, she was pretty.”

“And that’s enough reason?” You gawked at him. “She was pretty?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. And she wanted the stuffed bear.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile and heaved a sigh, then leaned back to narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it wasn’t just a rumor. You really were a charming ladies’ man back then.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “That’s not exactly…”

“Bucky, you looked like this.” You gestured at his face. “And I saw you in that footage, with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos. Come on, you were popular with women, it’s very obvious.”

That boyish smile pulled at his lips again. “Someone had to make sure Steve got a date, and double dates were all the rage back then.”

“Oh I’m sure you did all that for him.” You played along with a pout. “Of course. Did you use to dance as well?”

“I did, actually. Steve hated it, I didn’t mind.”

You hummed, fixing the silky skirts of your dress as you crossed your legs and he eyed you up and down, then leaned in so that you could hear his teasing tone.

“Do you wanna dance?”

That made your head whip around and you gawked at him before you snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s go dance in the ballroom full of people we work with, and the media,” you said. “After that PR disaster? Terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it had to be in the ballroom,” he said and stood up to offer you his hand, awakening butterflies in your stomach.

“Bucky…”

“It’s a waste of music if a pretty dame like you isn’t dancing to it darlin’,” he said with that old Brooklyn accent, a laugh spilling from your mouth before you scrunched up your face in embarrassment, then took his hand, a fire spreading from your fingers to your whole body.

“God, no wonder why Dot was impressed,” you said as he pulled you closer and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Is that right?”

It felt like your heart was trying to climb out of your chest and a giggle bloomed in your throat as he twirled you, then pulled you closer again.

“So this is James Bucky Barnes,” you mused. “I like him. I’d probably work for him back in the 1940s if he decided to get in politics.”

“He didn’t have any plans for politics, trust me.”

“Yeah well, it wouldn’t stop me. I’d talk him into it.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of him, the rare sound making you smile wide.

“I’d make him hire me,” you said. “Through Dot, by the way. Convince the wife and get the husband situation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah I don’t think he would up with Dot.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?”

“Because he is an idiot,” he said softly as you both swayed with music. “He messed things up with her.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you gulped, realizing that you weren't talking about Dot anymore.

“Beyond saving?”

“Feels that way.”

You scrunched up your nose. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, he backed himself into a corner,” he said, sadness etched on his handsome face. “Right person, wrong time.”

You could hardly hear him from the rush of blood in your ears, but you managed to shrug your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe it’s just another excuse for him to torture himself. I mean, time has to give him a break at some point, so they just need to find the corner their lines cross.”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could say anything, you both heard the sound of heels on the marble floor and you pulled your hand from his, stepping out of his embrace even if your body urged you not to. You fixed your hair just so that you could keep your hands busy and Kelsey appeared at the corner, then pulled her brows together.

“Hi,” she said after a beat. “Bucky, Caleb was looking for you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at you. “Are you…?”

“I actually need to borrow her for a moment,” Kelsey said and you motioned at the ballroom.

“You go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky walked past Kelsey to make his way into the ballroom and Kelsey approached you.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Long story,” you said. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Is everything okay in there?”

“I just saw Hazel leave,” she said. “Caleb thinks it’s an urgent business thing, she’s been here all week.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“That’s what Caleb wanted to ask him I think,” she said, linking her arm with yours. “Now come on. You can’t leave me alone with those assholes, and I think I’ve been flirting with a journalist so you need to tell me whether he’s hot or just tall.”

                                               *

Apparently, Hazel had left without letting Bucky know, so he had left as well to make sure she was alright, which meant you and Kelsey and Caleb could go home.

“We should’ve stolen a champagne bottle or something,” Caleb said while he laid on the floor on his back and you played with the corner of the pillow you were sitting on.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go to a gala. So the journalist, Kels?”

“He is kinda cute,” Kelsey said. “Like a puppy.”

“But he’s a journalist,” Caleb said. “I mean, can he be trusted?”

“Caleb, this is yet another instance we have to remind you that we work in politics,” you said, motioning between you. “Journalists think the same about us.”

“You work in politics, I work in communications.”

“Communications in politics.”

“That’s a detail though—” he started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing.

“At this hour?” Kelsey asked as Caleb sat up and answered the phone while you leaned in to hear what it was about.

“Hello? Yes, this is he.” Caleb said and listened to the other line, his eyes widening.

“What?” you whispered and he motioned at you to be silent, standing up to pace in the room. He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a breath.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes didn’t bring me up to speed I’m afraid,” he said, his gaze snapping to you before he mouthed ‘What the fuck’ and nodded as if the other person could see him. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea. Do you have my email address? Okay, great, I’ll check it out right now and get back to you, and we can put it out. Thank you, have a nice evening.”

He hung up and whirled on his heels to look at you and Kelsey.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“That was Hazel’s PR team.” He held up his phone. “They want to check in with me to see if their statement is in line with ours.”

“What statement?”

“Their break up statement.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him, disbelief crashing down on you while you reached to hold Kelsey’s arm.

“What?”

“I—what happened while you two were in that hallway?” Caleb asked you and you shook your head.

“We just danced,” you insisted while his eyes darted on the lines on his screen. “I swear. We were dancing and joking about his past—”

“Right before Kelsey found you?”

“Yeah!”

Caleb gritted his teeth and turned to Kelsey.

“And you found them right after Hazel left?”

A look of realization dawned on Kelsey’s face. “…Yeah.”

“No that’s not related,” you insisted, jumping on your feet. “I would’ve noticed if she saw us, or Bucky would—”

“A bunch of people were coming and going to the hallway next to it, he easily could’ve chalked it up to anyone else passing there.”

Your heart was pounding in your head as you covered your mouth.

“Good news is, there’s literally nothing about you on this statement,” Caleb murmured, his attention on his phone. “And her team said nothing about it either—shit, did we have her sign an NDA?”

“Knowing Bucky? I doubt it,” Kelsey said while Caleb touched his screen, then put the phone to his ear.

“Bucky,” he said, making your head whip up. “Hey. Yeah she’s fine. Yeah, I’m fine too. Uh…so friendly reminder, you’re supposed to tell me if you broke up with your girlfriend so that I can put out a statement before her team calls me. Because—” Caleb threw his hand in the air in exasperation. “Because that’s how it works. No, forget what I said about the Bachelor. Did you have her sign anything?” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you didn’t. Okay, I need you to tell me what happened in detail.”

You rushed to your room to change into a t-shirt and jeans as fast as you could, then stepped into the living room again.

“Are you going to Bucky’s place?” Kelsey whispered while Caleb kept pacing in the room, trying to convince Bucky that privacy didn’t exist in a situation like this, and you shook your head, making her frown.

“Then what—Birdie, no.” Her voice was stern as she realized what you were about to do. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What hotel is she staying at, Kels?”

“You’re the last person she wants to see, you do realize that?”

“And I owe her an explanation, you know that,” you said. “There’s no way she is at Bucky’s place, so what hotel?”

Kelsey pulled out her phone with a sigh, then touched the screen for a minute before your phone vibrated.

“There, the location, and the room number,” she said. “Bucky went there the other day.”

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing your coat on your way to the door. “I’ll text you.”

With that, you slammed the door behind you and rushed outside, raising your hand for a taxi.

                                        *

You knew Hazel didn’t want to see you.

You couldn’t even blame her. You had a pretty clear idea how that dance would look to an outsider, much less to her.

But you knew you had to explain yourself, and apologize.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as the elevator door opened, the door at the end of the hallway greeting you. Letting out a breath, you rolled your shoulders back and forced yourself to approach the door, then raised your fist to knock on it and stepped back, clasping your hands to stop the shaking.

Hazel scoffed a laugh when she opened the door.

“Oh this is gonna be fun,” she said, her voice calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Finished your dance?”

You closed your eyes for a second before you opened them.

“Miss Brooks, I’m really sorry,” you started, making her raise her brows as if she was amused. “I know how it looks like, but I swear to you nothing happened. I was feeling bad, that’s why I left the ballroom, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, I assure you—”

“Oh, you guys aren’t sleeping together.” Hazel waved a hand in the air. “But there is something between you. You know it, I know it, and Bucky also knows it even if he likes to pretend otherwise. He knew it throughout the time he was trying to make himself fall in love with me.”

You pulled back slightly, straining your mind to find the right thing to say.

“Miss Brooks—”

“I’m not going to say anything to the press,” she said. “So if that’s why you’re here, you can go away.”

You shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

Hazel held your gaze in hers as if she was trying to find any sign of dishonesty, then let out a breath.

“Listen, I’m going to show you this courtesy only because I’m not proud of how I treated you back in that bathroom,” she said. “I was still pretty angry, but blaming you makes no sense. That’s not the type of person I am, or the type of person I want to be.”

You wrung your hands, staring at her.

“I mean I asked him to fire you,” she said after a beat. “Not my proudest moment.”

“I get it,” you rasped out and she took a deep breath.

“And I hope you understand what I’m about to say doesn’t come from a place of hostility,” she said. “But from woman to woman? Don’t do it.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, your throat tightening.

“You know how it goes,” she said, her voice almost sad. “You’ve seen how quick the public was to forgive him for everything. His PR was good but no PR is that good, they want to love him. The guy is a superhero, he could walk away from politics today and it wouldn’t make any difference. They will still love him.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, nodding your head.

“So you know what will happen,” she said. “This is one of the rare things that hasn’t changed since the 40s, no matter what anyone says. He will be their hero, and you will be the whore.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“I need you to understand that,” she told you. “Doesn’t matter if I like you or not, I wouldn’t wish it upon any woman. They will fucking tear you apart, and trust me, not even the big bad Winter Soldier can protect you from that.”  

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

“And he doesn’t even see it.” She scoffed a laugh. “But you do. You’re smart, something inside you has to be warning you against this. You know the moment he steps out with you, he will be throwing you to the wolves.”

Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and you nodded again, heaving a shaky sigh while she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

She closed the door and you balled your hands into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms to focus on anything other than the tears falling from your eyes. You slowly made your way to the elevator to step in, watching the doors close.

And then you started sobbing.

[dreamwritesimagines]

I wish Max disappeared during the blip 😫

Asdhkll I think (obviously before Bucky came into picture) the fact that Max didn't disappear during the blip made Birdie more attached😈

[dreamwritesimagines]

Asdghjkl Bucky sure is taking it slow, isn't he? 😈😈😈

Declassified [11] - Warning Shot

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Some dances look more than just friendly.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, throwing up, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.5k

Series Masterlist

If it were any other time, this gala would be exciting.

It was the perfect opportunity to meet more politicians, get some inside information, and overall a good place to make an impression. However, your love life was a mess, you dreamt about Bucky every night while keeping your distance from him all day, so you had no idea how to even begin forming a game plan for the gala, or care about it.

Also, Bucky looked like he had one thousand questions about why you started avoiding him all of a sudden out of nowhere yet again but you had to admit, he was being very understanding and did not push you.

Then again, maybe his girlfriend played a part in it.

“Can I just skip this one?”

You and Kelsey exchanged glances and she rolled her eyes while you heaved a sigh, then checked your lipstick on the mirror.

“Caleb, get in here.”

“No seriously, DC has a bunch of charity galas I can join some other time—”

“Get in here!” You both called out at the same time and he huffed, then stepped into the living room, still fiddling with his bowtie. One simple observer would have thought he was being forced to go to war instead of a gala from the miserable look on his face, and you stifled your laugh while Kelsey walked to him to bat his hand away so that she could fix his bowtie.

“I look like a waiter.”

“You look like a handsome guy in a suit.”

“Handsome waiter in a suit.”

“Caleb,” Kelsey said patiently. “I will be Bucky’s shadow in that ballroom and running around the place on stilettos. I think you and your bowtie will be fine.”

“I can give you my shoes at the end of the night if you want,” Caleb said and Kelsey smiled at him.

“Not gonna turn down that offer, thank you.”

“Birdie?” Caleb turned to you and you winked at him.

“You look like a handsome PR manager in a suit.”

Caleb let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Anyone else feel like this is prom night?”

“I lost my virginity on prom night,” Kelsey mused, checking her phone and you raised your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at the back of the limo my date rented.”

You grinned. “Classy. I’ve never had sex in a car.”

“You’re telling me Five Minutes Comma Max wasn’t adventurous?” Caleb teased you. “Shocker.”

“I should make a list or something.”

“A sex list?”

“Yeah for like places and stuff.”

“Uber is here,” Kelsey said and you grabbed your purse off the coffee table while Caleb rolled his shoulders back. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you said. “Let’s go to prom.”

                                               *

This was not prom.

This was prom West Wing edition.

There were so many important people everywhere that you didn’t even know where to start. You could see your father talking to a senator at the corner of the ballroom, and the sight was enough to make your stomach do a nervous flip, but you cracked your knuckles, searching the room for—

Oh there he was.   

It wasn’t like you expected him not to look good in a suit but this was another level. For a couple of seconds, you let yourself stare at him; your heartbeat getting faster while he gave a curt smile to something Hazel said, then made a face and shook his head, making her laugh.

Jesus, they really did make a hot couple.

Jealous burned at the pit of your stomach but you frowned to yourself, trying to focus. Kelsey made her way to him while Caleb walked to one of the journalists he knew, and you took a deep breath, then approached him.

Professional.

You were going to be just professional and get through tonight, and then go home where you could whine all you wanted.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes. Miss Brooks.” You offered a smile to her which she acknowledged with a nod, but you made sure not to look at Bucky, instead lowering your glances to your phone in your hand. “Mr. Barnes, I think it could be a good idea to talk Congressman Murray tonight about the veteran bill proposal once you get the chance. He has military background, he supports getting more financial support to veteran families especially after the Blip, and he has already contacted us for next week, so it could be the first step to breaking the ice. I sent you the main points of the latest bill he proposed a couple of months ago, so if you’d like to take a look, it could help.”

Silence.

You pulled your brows together and looked up from your phone to find him staring at you in awe, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel your cheeks burning but you shot him a quizzical look, which made him clear his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed to say. “Can you repeat that?”

Oh this was not going to help this situation with Hazel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking between you while Kelsey bit back a smile, and you took a deep breath.

“Congressman Murray could help with the veteran bill, I sent you the details.”

“Ah,” he said. “Right, yeah. Which one is he?”

“That one.” Kelsey pointed at the man subtly and Bucky nodded like he was trying to focus.

“Okay.”

“I’d better go and see who else is here,” you said and walked away from them in a rush just so that you wouldn’t be alone with Hazel. You looked around and made your way to one of the waiters to grab a champagne flute from the tray he carried, then thanked him and took a huge sip of the champagne, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Wow.”

You looked over your shoulder, then smiled at Lucas and turned to see him better.

“Hi.”

He let out a breath, eyeing you up and down. “You look amazing, Hurricane.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, your smiling growing bigger. “Hey, how come you know my nickname and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I came to the Capitol before you.”

“Oh that’s how it works?”

“Mm hm,” he said solemnly. “Not to look like I’m pulling rank but…”

“But you are pulling rank?”

“But I am pulling rank,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “Sorry about that, but technically you’re a freshman and I’m a senior.”

“You’re a sophomore at best,” you deadpanned. “And in case you forgot, this freshman is helping you with that mess you call a draft.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, inspecting your nails nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“I mean I wouldn’t call it helping,” he teased you back. “More like I’m showing you the ropes.”

You let out a hum, swirling your champagne in the glass.

“I’ve seen first graders with better text cohesion.”

 “Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said calmly. “You know Lucas, there’s nothing wrong with being bad at things. We all have to start somewhere.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “For example, I was just like you when I was in college.”

“Oh, in college?”

“Lost…” You waved a hand in the air. “Clueless. Amateur. Poor in vocabulary.”

He made a face. “No you weren’t, you were the top of your class.”

You tilted your head. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways.” He motioned at you to keep going. “But back to dragging me.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “And then I worked very hard and then…here we are. It might take you longer but you’ll get there.”

“We should’ve called you Viper instead of Hurricane.”

“That does sound more badass than Hurricane—” you started but Lucas’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, his smile wiping off his face immediately, and you frowned before you heard your father’s voice.

“Do you mind, Lucas?”

Lucas looked from your father to you, then shifted his weight and heaved a sigh.

“See you later, Hurricane.”

Your father gave you a small smile as Lucas walked away and you turned to glare at him.

“Dad,” you said through your teeth. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Let’s be serious here, you can do better than a glorified assistant.” He scoffed. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m working.”

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. “You used to throw fits whenever your mother and I took you to events if we didn’t have our father-daughter dance.”

“Well in my defense, I was like eight,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the people who were dancing in the ballroom. “And half of the government wasn’t in the room. And I wasn’t working.”

“And how is it going at work?” he asked. “I saw Barnes talking to Murray just now. Let me guess, they’ll work together on the veteran bill?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah. And after Bucky is done talking to him, I’ll talk to Congressman Riley about our project for the education of children in low income families.”

“What’s next?” he asked. “We start handing out stacks of money on the street?”

“You have more than enough. Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“At the risk of sounding like a hopeless idealist, I happen to think some of the government money should be used for people in need instead of your buddies buying yachts,” you snarked. “I know it’s a little difficult to understand it for you, the idea of helping people.”

“We do help people, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the world is a much better place with your help.” You snorted and raised your glass in a mock of toast. “They don’t thank you enough.”

“Pumpkin, you know how it goes,” he said. “Some win and some lose. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with the rules for this game.”

“No but you keep rigging it,” you growled through your teeth, looking him in the eye. “And for most people, dad, it’s not a game. A lot of people are in need of help. Real help.”

“And you want to be Robin Hood.”

“I want to make a difference in the world,” you insisted. “I’m going to—I’m going to help people—”

“Before or after going on a date with your boss?”

That made you shut up immediately and you pulled back a little, searching your mind for the right words.

“I already talked to mom about this,” you managed to say. “That’s just lies.”

He hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t appreciate getting my name dragged into tabloid gossip,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “Any more than I appreciate seeing my daughter put herself in that situation.”

This—

Alright.

You could feel the familiar knots in your stomach, your throat tightening. This was exactly how it would go when you were little, your father’s voice turning into this, and the moment you opened your mouth to explain yourself, yelling would start. Panic was already giving you nausea but you managed to keep your expression flat before you downed your drink and put it on a tray a waiter was carrying just so that you could cross your arms to hide the trembling of your hands.

“I don’t control what the PR comes up with,” you pointed out. “And I didn’t put myself in any situation—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he cut you off, his voice low but stern. “I’m interested in solutions. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there dumbfounded as you felt your breath hitching in your throat.

No.

This was not happening, not right now and especially not here.

You darted through the ballroom as subtly as you could without getting any attention on you, then stepped out into the hallway to rush to the bathroom. You slammed the door open, then ran to the nearest stool to throw up, pushing the button to flush it before you put the lid down, and sat on top of it.

Your hands were still shaking and you closed your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing under control.

This was just nonsense. You weren’t a child anymore, your father couldn’t yell at you without you yelling back, and there was no way he would’ve tried to yell at you surrounded by all those people in the ballroom but—

But the fear of disappointing him was still enough to make you throw up.

It took you almost half an hour to pull yourself together. You massaged your temples, willing the headache to disappear before you stepped out of the stool, then walked to the sink to wash your hands, then kept them under the cold water.

The girl next to you gave you a sympathetic smile. “I hate these things too.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered. “Any chance you have mints?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She reached into her purse to pull out a pack of mints and you took one to pop it in your mouth.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Mel,” she said. “I work for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

“CIA.” You whistled. “Badass. I work for Congressman Barnes.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I knew I’ve seen you somewhere, in that—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and you heaved a sigh.

“That gossip piece, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry.”

“You weren’t rude,” you said. “No worries.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she checked it, then turned to you.

“Gotta go but it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said and turned to check your makeup in the mirror, then grabbed a tissue to dab at your eyes.

“Get your shit together,” you muttered to yourself and threw the tissue into the garbage can, then walked out of the bathroom. You slowly made your way toward the ballroom but when you felt your throat tightening, you huffed out and turned the nearest corner to another empty hallway, then sat on the stairs.

Fine, you apparently needed more time.

You didn’t even have the energy to check your phone that kept buzzing because that meant you needed to go into the ballroom, so you kept it in your lap while you wrung your hands, then cracked your knuckles one by one. Counting in your head, you took a deep breath, and leaned your forehead on your knees to focus before you exhaled.

“Here you are.”

It was almost funny how with just his voice he managed to pull you out of the spiral of your thoughts. You could feel your lips pulling into a small smile and you took another breath, then lifted your head to look up at him.

He was way too handsome.

“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes searching your face and you scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Drinking champagne on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just gonna take five and then go back. How about you, why are you here?”

“I don’t really like the whole…” He motioned in the direction of the ballroom and you raised your brows.

“Socializing in order to manipulate people?”

“That and just—people,” he admitted, then nodded at the stair you were sitting on. “Got room for one more person in there?”

You scooted over and he sat down next to you, making you let out a giggle.

“You do know that we’re supposed to be in there working people?”

“It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Still,” you said. “I doubt many politicians or employees are hiding from the crowd sitting on a staircase.”

“Well, you’re the only person I actually want to sit with tonight,” he said with a shrug, as if that didn’t make your stomach flutter. “What’s your excuse?”

Focus.

“How did it go with Murray?”

“He wanted me to share stories.”

“From the front?”

He nodded and you scrunched up your nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, then turned sideways to see him better, resting your chin on your fist.

“I wonder about that too sometimes, you know?”

He frowned. “The front?”

You shook your head. “Who you were back then. I mean I saw the footage with the Howling Commandos and Steve Rogers, and you were…” You paused for a second and sat up straighter, grinning at him. “Tell me who you were.”

“You know who I was,” he said as if the answer was obvious and you shook your head again.

“I’m not asking about Sergeant Barnes, or the Winter Soldier,” you told him. “I’m asking about James Bucky Barnes before the war.”

He raised his brows like he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. You had seen that look on his face before, a mixture of curiosity and longing as he fell into silence, trying to dig up a memory that wasn’t full of trauma or bloodshed, a memory that was warm and pleasant and carefree.

“Well, things were difficult even before the war,” he started. “But I think I was happy. Me and Steve, we basically grew up together. My mother would always put a plate on the table for him on Sunday breakfast.”

A soft smile warmed your face. “That’s sweet of her.”

“We would get in trouble sometimes, which she hated,” he said. “Me and Steve, we once went to Rockaway Beach, and had to come back to Brooklyn on the back of a freezer truck.”

“Wait, why?”

He let out a chuckle. “Well, Steve spent our money on hot dogs, and I was trying to impress this girl, Dot.”

Your grin widened. “Ah?”

“So I spent 3 dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her, which meant we had no money to go back, so we hitchhiked.”

You pulled out your phone.

“I need to check something, give me a second,” you said and quickly typed it into google, then gasped.

“3 dollars back then is— Bucky, you spent 70 dollars on a stuffed bear to impress a girl?” you exclaimed. “During Great Depression?”

“Mm hm.”

“Please tell me you did win the goddamn stuffed bear.”

“I did actually,” he said with a smirk. “And she was impressed, so money well spent.”

“So in your order of priorities,” you said, motioning with your hands, “impressing the girl was higher than going back to Brooklyn safe and sound? And comfortable?”

“Yeah, she was pretty.”

“And that’s enough reason?” You gawked at him. “She was pretty?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. And she wanted the stuffed bear.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile and heaved a sigh, then leaned back to narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it wasn’t just a rumor. You really were a charming ladies’ man back then.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “That’s not exactly…”

“Bucky, you looked like this.” You gestured at his face. “And I saw you in that footage, with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos. Come on, you were popular with women, it’s very obvious.”

That boyish smile pulled at his lips again. “Someone had to make sure Steve got a date, and double dates were all the rage back then.”

“Oh I’m sure you did all that for him.” You played along with a pout. “Of course. Did you use to dance as well?”

“I did, actually. Steve hated it, I didn’t mind.”

You hummed, fixing the silky skirts of your dress as you crossed your legs and he eyed you up and down, then leaned in so that you could hear his teasing tone.

“Do you wanna dance?”

That made your head whip around and you gawked at him before you snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s go dance in the ballroom full of people we work with, and the media,” you said. “After that PR disaster? Terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it had to be in the ballroom,” he said and stood up to offer you his hand, awakening butterflies in your stomach.

“Bucky…”

“It’s a waste of music if a pretty dame like you isn’t dancing to it darlin’,” he said with that old Brooklyn accent, a laugh spilling from your mouth before you scrunched up your face in embarrassment, then took his hand, a fire spreading from your fingers to your whole body.

“God, no wonder why Dot was impressed,” you said as he pulled you closer and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Is that right?”

It felt like your heart was trying to climb out of your chest and a giggle bloomed in your throat as he twirled you, then pulled you closer again.

“So this is James Bucky Barnes,” you mused. “I like him. I’d probably work for him back in the 1940s if he decided to get in politics.”

“He didn’t have any plans for politics, trust me.”

“Yeah well, it wouldn’t stop me. I’d talk him into it.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of him, the rare sound making you smile wide.

“I’d make him hire me,” you said. “Through Dot, by the way. Convince the wife and get the husband situation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah I don’t think he would up with Dot.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?”

“Because he is an idiot,” he said softly as you both swayed with music. “He messed things up with her.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you gulped, realizing that you weren't talking about Dot anymore.

“Beyond saving?”

“Feels that way.”

You scrunched up your nose. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, he backed himself into a corner,” he said, sadness etched on his handsome face. “Right person, wrong time.”

You could hardly hear him from the rush of blood in your ears, but you managed to shrug your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe it’s just another excuse for him to torture himself. I mean, time has to give him a break at some point, so they just need to find the corner their lines cross.”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could say anything, you both heard the sound of heels on the marble floor and you pulled your hand from his, stepping out of his embrace even if your body urged you not to. You fixed your hair just so that you could keep your hands busy and Kelsey appeared at the corner, then pulled her brows together.

“Hi,” she said after a beat. “Bucky, Caleb was looking for you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at you. “Are you…?”

“I actually need to borrow her for a moment,” Kelsey said and you motioned at the ballroom.

“You go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky walked past Kelsey to make his way into the ballroom and Kelsey approached you.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Long story,” you said. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Is everything okay in there?”

“I just saw Hazel leave,” she said. “Caleb thinks it’s an urgent business thing, she’s been here all week.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“That’s what Caleb wanted to ask him I think,” she said, linking her arm with yours. “Now come on. You can’t leave me alone with those assholes, and I think I’ve been flirting with a journalist so you need to tell me whether he’s hot or just tall.”

                                               *

Apparently, Hazel had left without letting Bucky know, so he had left as well to make sure she was alright, which meant you and Kelsey and Caleb could go home.

“We should’ve stolen a champagne bottle or something,” Caleb said while he laid on the floor on his back and you played with the corner of the pillow you were sitting on.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go to a gala. So the journalist, Kels?”

“He is kinda cute,” Kelsey said. “Like a puppy.”

“But he’s a journalist,” Caleb said. “I mean, can he be trusted?”

“Caleb, this is yet another instance we have to remind you that we work in politics,” you said, motioning between you. “Journalists think the same about us.”

“You work in politics, I work in communications.”

“Communications in politics.”

“That’s a detail though—” he started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing.

“At this hour?” Kelsey asked as Caleb sat up and answered the phone while you leaned in to hear what it was about.

“Hello? Yes, this is he.” Caleb said and listened to the other line, his eyes widening.

“What?” you whispered and he motioned at you to be silent, standing up to pace in the room. He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a breath.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes didn’t bring me up to speed I’m afraid,” he said, his gaze snapping to you before he mouthed ‘What the fuck’ and nodded as if the other person could see him. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea. Do you have my email address? Okay, great, I’ll check it out right now and get back to you, and we can put it out. Thank you, have a nice evening.”

He hung up and whirled on his heels to look at you and Kelsey.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“That was Hazel’s PR team.” He held up his phone. “They want to check in with me to see if their statement is in line with ours.”

“What statement?”

“Their break up statement.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him, disbelief crashing down on you while you reached to hold Kelsey’s arm.

“What?”

“I—what happened while you two were in that hallway?” Caleb asked you and you shook your head.

“We just danced,” you insisted while his eyes darted on the lines on his screen. “I swear. We were dancing and joking about his past—”

“Right before Kelsey found you?”

“Yeah!”

Caleb gritted his teeth and turned to Kelsey.

“And you found them right after Hazel left?”

A look of realization dawned on Kelsey’s face. “…Yeah.”

“No that’s not related,” you insisted, jumping on your feet. “I would’ve noticed if she saw us, or Bucky would—”

“A bunch of people were coming and going to the hallway next to it, he easily could’ve chalked it up to anyone else passing there.”

Your heart was pounding in your head as you covered your mouth.

“Good news is, there’s literally nothing about you on this statement,” Caleb murmured, his attention on his phone. “And her team said nothing about it either—shit, did we have her sign an NDA?”

“Knowing Bucky? I doubt it,” Kelsey said while Caleb touched his screen, then put the phone to his ear.

“Bucky,” he said, making your head whip up. “Hey. Yeah she’s fine. Yeah, I’m fine too. Uh…so friendly reminder, you’re supposed to tell me if you broke up with your girlfriend so that I can put out a statement before her team calls me. Because—” Caleb threw his hand in the air in exasperation. “Because that’s how it works. No, forget what I said about the Bachelor. Did you have her sign anything?” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you didn’t. Okay, I need you to tell me what happened in detail.”

You rushed to your room to change into a t-shirt and jeans as fast as you could, then stepped into the living room again.

“Are you going to Bucky’s place?” Kelsey whispered while Caleb kept pacing in the room, trying to convince Bucky that privacy didn’t exist in a situation like this, and you shook your head, making her frown.

“Then what—Birdie, no.” Her voice was stern as she realized what you were about to do. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What hotel is she staying at, Kels?”

“You’re the last person she wants to see, you do realize that?”

“And I owe her an explanation, you know that,” you said. “There’s no way she is at Bucky’s place, so what hotel?”

Kelsey pulled out her phone with a sigh, then touched the screen for a minute before your phone vibrated.

“There, the location, and the room number,” she said. “Bucky went there the other day.”

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing your coat on your way to the door. “I’ll text you.”

With that, you slammed the door behind you and rushed outside, raising your hand for a taxi.

                                        *

You knew Hazel didn’t want to see you.

You couldn’t even blame her. You had a pretty clear idea how that dance would look to an outsider, much less to her.

But you knew you had to explain yourself, and apologize.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as the elevator door opened, the door at the end of the hallway greeting you. Letting out a breath, you rolled your shoulders back and forced yourself to approach the door, then raised your fist to knock on it and stepped back, clasping your hands to stop the shaking.

Hazel scoffed a laugh when she opened the door.

“Oh this is gonna be fun,” she said, her voice calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Finished your dance?”

You closed your eyes for a second before you opened them.

“Miss Brooks, I’m really sorry,” you started, making her raise her brows as if she was amused. “I know how it looks like, but I swear to you nothing happened. I was feeling bad, that’s why I left the ballroom, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, I assure you—”

“Oh, you guys aren’t sleeping together.” Hazel waved a hand in the air. “But there is something between you. You know it, I know it, and Bucky also knows it even if he likes to pretend otherwise. He knew it throughout the time he was trying to make himself fall in love with me.”

You pulled back slightly, straining your mind to find the right thing to say.

“Miss Brooks—”

“I’m not going to say anything to the press,” she said. “So if that’s why you’re here, you can go away.”

You shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

Hazel held your gaze in hers as if she was trying to find any sign of dishonesty, then let out a breath.

“Listen, I’m going to show you this courtesy only because I’m not proud of how I treated you back in that bathroom,” she said. “I was still pretty angry, but blaming you makes no sense. That’s not the type of person I am, or the type of person I want to be.”

You wrung your hands, staring at her.

“I mean I asked him to fire you,” she said after a beat. “Not my proudest moment.”

“I get it,” you rasped out and she took a deep breath.

“And I hope you understand what I’m about to say doesn’t come from a place of hostility,” she said. “But from woman to woman? Don’t do it.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, your throat tightening.

“You know how it goes,” she said, her voice almost sad. “You’ve seen how quick the public was to forgive him for everything. His PR was good but no PR is that good, they want to love him. The guy is a superhero, he could walk away from politics today and it wouldn’t make any difference. They will still love him.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, nodding your head.

“So you know what will happen,” she said. “This is one of the rare things that hasn’t changed since the 40s, no matter what anyone says. He will be their hero, and you will be the whore.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“I need you to understand that,” she told you. “Doesn’t matter if I like you or not, I wouldn’t wish it upon any woman. They will fucking tear you apart, and trust me, not even the big bad Winter Soldier can protect you from that.”  

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

“And he doesn’t even see it.” She scoffed a laugh. “But you do. You’re smart, something inside you has to be warning you against this. You know the moment he steps out with you, he will be throwing you to the wolves.”

Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and you nodded again, heaving a shaky sigh while she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

She closed the door and you balled your hands into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms to focus on anything other than the tears falling from your eyes. You slowly made your way to the elevator to step in, watching the doors close.

And then you started sobbing.

[dreamwritesimagines]

What Birdie part of the blimp? Or what did she do during that time? I imagine her dad disappeared and she was so happy 😜😜😜 but I also think her dad didn't disappear and that's how he got a lot of his power in DC

Oooh this is such a good question darling, thank you so much! 🥰

I was actually thinking about whether she'd be a part of the blip or not the other day 🩷

I think you're right, her dad wouldn't have so much power in DC if he was gone for five years😈 And I think Birdie didn't disappear either, but her mom did! That was also a huuuge reason why things between Birdie's dad and Birdie got much worse and tense, because usually they play nice for Birdie's mom's sake, but while she wasn't there, they both lashed out a lot😈

[dreamwritesimagines]

Hi.😊 So I want to recommend a series (Devil's Minion, because I'm predictable like that😜). Specifically this one gives the same intense fluff, getting into cuteness aggression territory, as the fluffiest parts of your stories.😁

A brick row house and two old men by HummingbeeoOo.😊😊

OMG OMG-

I love Interview with the Vampire so muuuch, it's a masterpiece! 🩷 And I'm so excited to read this darling, thank you so much! 🥰🥰

[dreamwritesimagines]

Aw thank you so much honey! 🩷

Oh Hazel definitely had a point, like, if the word gets out once Bucky and Birdie are dating, they'll be all over Birdie 😈

Declassified [11] - Warning Shot

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Some dances look more than just friendly.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, throwing up, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.5k

Series Masterlist

If it were any other time, this gala would be exciting.

It was the perfect opportunity to meet more politicians, get some inside information, and overall a good place to make an impression. However, your love life was a mess, you dreamt about Bucky every night while keeping your distance from him all day, so you had no idea how to even begin forming a game plan for the gala, or care about it.

Also, Bucky looked like he had one thousand questions about why you started avoiding him all of a sudden out of nowhere yet again but you had to admit, he was being very understanding and did not push you.

Then again, maybe his girlfriend played a part in it.

“Can I just skip this one?”

You and Kelsey exchanged glances and she rolled her eyes while you heaved a sigh, then checked your lipstick on the mirror.

“Caleb, get in here.”

“No seriously, DC has a bunch of charity galas I can join some other time—”

“Get in here!” You both called out at the same time and he huffed, then stepped into the living room, still fiddling with his bowtie. One simple observer would have thought he was being forced to go to war instead of a gala from the miserable look on his face, and you stifled your laugh while Kelsey walked to him to bat his hand away so that she could fix his bowtie.

“I look like a waiter.”

“You look like a handsome guy in a suit.”

“Handsome waiter in a suit.”

“Caleb,” Kelsey said patiently. “I will be Bucky’s shadow in that ballroom and running around the place on stilettos. I think you and your bowtie will be fine.”

“I can give you my shoes at the end of the night if you want,” Caleb said and Kelsey smiled at him.

“Not gonna turn down that offer, thank you.”

“Birdie?” Caleb turned to you and you winked at him.

“You look like a handsome PR manager in a suit.”

Caleb let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Anyone else feel like this is prom night?”

“I lost my virginity on prom night,” Kelsey mused, checking her phone and you raised your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at the back of the limo my date rented.”

You grinned. “Classy. I’ve never had sex in a car.”

“You’re telling me Five Minutes Comma Max wasn’t adventurous?” Caleb teased you. “Shocker.”

“I should make a list or something.”

“A sex list?”

“Yeah for like places and stuff.”

“Uber is here,” Kelsey said and you grabbed your purse off the coffee table while Caleb rolled his shoulders back. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you said. “Let’s go to prom.”

                                               *

This was not prom.

This was prom West Wing edition.

There were so many important people everywhere that you didn’t even know where to start. You could see your father talking to a senator at the corner of the ballroom, and the sight was enough to make your stomach do a nervous flip, but you cracked your knuckles, searching the room for—

Oh there he was.   

It wasn’t like you expected him not to look good in a suit but this was another level. For a couple of seconds, you let yourself stare at him; your heartbeat getting faster while he gave a curt smile to something Hazel said, then made a face and shook his head, making her laugh.

Jesus, they really did make a hot couple.

Jealous burned at the pit of your stomach but you frowned to yourself, trying to focus. Kelsey made her way to him while Caleb walked to one of the journalists he knew, and you took a deep breath, then approached him.

Professional.

You were going to be just professional and get through tonight, and then go home where you could whine all you wanted.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes. Miss Brooks.” You offered a smile to her which she acknowledged with a nod, but you made sure not to look at Bucky, instead lowering your glances to your phone in your hand. “Mr. Barnes, I think it could be a good idea to talk Congressman Murray tonight about the veteran bill proposal once you get the chance. He has military background, he supports getting more financial support to veteran families especially after the Blip, and he has already contacted us for next week, so it could be the first step to breaking the ice. I sent you the main points of the latest bill he proposed a couple of months ago, so if you’d like to take a look, it could help.”

Silence.

You pulled your brows together and looked up from your phone to find him staring at you in awe, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel your cheeks burning but you shot him a quizzical look, which made him clear his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed to say. “Can you repeat that?”

Oh this was not going to help this situation with Hazel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking between you while Kelsey bit back a smile, and you took a deep breath.

“Congressman Murray could help with the veteran bill, I sent you the details.”

“Ah,” he said. “Right, yeah. Which one is he?”

“That one.” Kelsey pointed at the man subtly and Bucky nodded like he was trying to focus.

“Okay.”

“I’d better go and see who else is here,” you said and walked away from them in a rush just so that you wouldn’t be alone with Hazel. You looked around and made your way to one of the waiters to grab a champagne flute from the tray he carried, then thanked him and took a huge sip of the champagne, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Wow.”

You looked over your shoulder, then smiled at Lucas and turned to see him better.

“Hi.”

He let out a breath, eyeing you up and down. “You look amazing, Hurricane.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, your smiling growing bigger. “Hey, how come you know my nickname and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I came to the Capitol before you.”

“Oh that’s how it works?”

“Mm hm,” he said solemnly. “Not to look like I’m pulling rank but…”

“But you are pulling rank?”

“But I am pulling rank,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “Sorry about that, but technically you’re a freshman and I’m a senior.”

“You’re a sophomore at best,” you deadpanned. “And in case you forgot, this freshman is helping you with that mess you call a draft.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, inspecting your nails nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“I mean I wouldn’t call it helping,” he teased you back. “More like I’m showing you the ropes.”

You let out a hum, swirling your champagne in the glass.

“I’ve seen first graders with better text cohesion.”

 “Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said calmly. “You know Lucas, there’s nothing wrong with being bad at things. We all have to start somewhere.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “For example, I was just like you when I was in college.”

“Oh, in college?”

“Lost…” You waved a hand in the air. “Clueless. Amateur. Poor in vocabulary.”

He made a face. “No you weren’t, you were the top of your class.”

You tilted your head. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways.” He motioned at you to keep going. “But back to dragging me.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “And then I worked very hard and then…here we are. It might take you longer but you’ll get there.”

“We should’ve called you Viper instead of Hurricane.”

“That does sound more badass than Hurricane—” you started but Lucas’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, his smile wiping off his face immediately, and you frowned before you heard your father’s voice.

“Do you mind, Lucas?”

Lucas looked from your father to you, then shifted his weight and heaved a sigh.

“See you later, Hurricane.”

Your father gave you a small smile as Lucas walked away and you turned to glare at him.

“Dad,” you said through your teeth. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Let’s be serious here, you can do better than a glorified assistant.” He scoffed. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m working.”

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. “You used to throw fits whenever your mother and I took you to events if we didn’t have our father-daughter dance.”

“Well in my defense, I was like eight,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the people who were dancing in the ballroom. “And half of the government wasn’t in the room. And I wasn’t working.”

“And how is it going at work?” he asked. “I saw Barnes talking to Murray just now. Let me guess, they’ll work together on the veteran bill?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah. And after Bucky is done talking to him, I’ll talk to Congressman Riley about our project for the education of children in low income families.”

“What’s next?” he asked. “We start handing out stacks of money on the street?”

“You have more than enough. Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“At the risk of sounding like a hopeless idealist, I happen to think some of the government money should be used for people in need instead of your buddies buying yachts,” you snarked. “I know it’s a little difficult to understand it for you, the idea of helping people.”

“We do help people, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the world is a much better place with your help.” You snorted and raised your glass in a mock of toast. “They don’t thank you enough.”

“Pumpkin, you know how it goes,” he said. “Some win and some lose. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with the rules for this game.”

“No but you keep rigging it,” you growled through your teeth, looking him in the eye. “And for most people, dad, it’s not a game. A lot of people are in need of help. Real help.”

“And you want to be Robin Hood.”

“I want to make a difference in the world,” you insisted. “I’m going to—I’m going to help people—”

“Before or after going on a date with your boss?”

That made you shut up immediately and you pulled back a little, searching your mind for the right words.

“I already talked to mom about this,” you managed to say. “That’s just lies.”

He hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t appreciate getting my name dragged into tabloid gossip,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “Any more than I appreciate seeing my daughter put herself in that situation.”

This—

Alright.

You could feel the familiar knots in your stomach, your throat tightening. This was exactly how it would go when you were little, your father’s voice turning into this, and the moment you opened your mouth to explain yourself, yelling would start. Panic was already giving you nausea but you managed to keep your expression flat before you downed your drink and put it on a tray a waiter was carrying just so that you could cross your arms to hide the trembling of your hands.

“I don’t control what the PR comes up with,” you pointed out. “And I didn’t put myself in any situation—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he cut you off, his voice low but stern. “I’m interested in solutions. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there dumbfounded as you felt your breath hitching in your throat.

No.

This was not happening, not right now and especially not here.

You darted through the ballroom as subtly as you could without getting any attention on you, then stepped out into the hallway to rush to the bathroom. You slammed the door open, then ran to the nearest stool to throw up, pushing the button to flush it before you put the lid down, and sat on top of it.

Your hands were still shaking and you closed your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing under control.

This was just nonsense. You weren’t a child anymore, your father couldn’t yell at you without you yelling back, and there was no way he would’ve tried to yell at you surrounded by all those people in the ballroom but—

But the fear of disappointing him was still enough to make you throw up.

It took you almost half an hour to pull yourself together. You massaged your temples, willing the headache to disappear before you stepped out of the stool, then walked to the sink to wash your hands, then kept them under the cold water.

The girl next to you gave you a sympathetic smile. “I hate these things too.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered. “Any chance you have mints?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She reached into her purse to pull out a pack of mints and you took one to pop it in your mouth.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Mel,” she said. “I work for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

“CIA.” You whistled. “Badass. I work for Congressman Barnes.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I knew I’ve seen you somewhere, in that—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and you heaved a sigh.

“That gossip piece, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry.”

“You weren’t rude,” you said. “No worries.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she checked it, then turned to you.

“Gotta go but it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said and turned to check your makeup in the mirror, then grabbed a tissue to dab at your eyes.

“Get your shit together,” you muttered to yourself and threw the tissue into the garbage can, then walked out of the bathroom. You slowly made your way toward the ballroom but when you felt your throat tightening, you huffed out and turned the nearest corner to another empty hallway, then sat on the stairs.

Fine, you apparently needed more time.

You didn’t even have the energy to check your phone that kept buzzing because that meant you needed to go into the ballroom, so you kept it in your lap while you wrung your hands, then cracked your knuckles one by one. Counting in your head, you took a deep breath, and leaned your forehead on your knees to focus before you exhaled.

“Here you are.”

It was almost funny how with just his voice he managed to pull you out of the spiral of your thoughts. You could feel your lips pulling into a small smile and you took another breath, then lifted your head to look up at him.

He was way too handsome.

“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes searching your face and you scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Drinking champagne on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just gonna take five and then go back. How about you, why are you here?”

“I don’t really like the whole…” He motioned in the direction of the ballroom and you raised your brows.

“Socializing in order to manipulate people?”

“That and just—people,” he admitted, then nodded at the stair you were sitting on. “Got room for one more person in there?”

You scooted over and he sat down next to you, making you let out a giggle.

“You do know that we’re supposed to be in there working people?”

“It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Still,” you said. “I doubt many politicians or employees are hiding from the crowd sitting on a staircase.”

“Well, you’re the only person I actually want to sit with tonight,” he said with a shrug, as if that didn’t make your stomach flutter. “What’s your excuse?”

Focus.

“How did it go with Murray?”

“He wanted me to share stories.”

“From the front?”

He nodded and you scrunched up your nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, then turned sideways to see him better, resting your chin on your fist.

“I wonder about that too sometimes, you know?”

He frowned. “The front?”

You shook your head. “Who you were back then. I mean I saw the footage with the Howling Commandos and Steve Rogers, and you were…” You paused for a second and sat up straighter, grinning at him. “Tell me who you were.”

“You know who I was,” he said as if the answer was obvious and you shook your head again.

“I’m not asking about Sergeant Barnes, or the Winter Soldier,” you told him. “I’m asking about James Bucky Barnes before the war.”

He raised his brows like he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. You had seen that look on his face before, a mixture of curiosity and longing as he fell into silence, trying to dig up a memory that wasn’t full of trauma or bloodshed, a memory that was warm and pleasant and carefree.

“Well, things were difficult even before the war,” he started. “But I think I was happy. Me and Steve, we basically grew up together. My mother would always put a plate on the table for him on Sunday breakfast.”

A soft smile warmed your face. “That’s sweet of her.”

“We would get in trouble sometimes, which she hated,” he said. “Me and Steve, we once went to Rockaway Beach, and had to come back to Brooklyn on the back of a freezer truck.”

“Wait, why?”

He let out a chuckle. “Well, Steve spent our money on hot dogs, and I was trying to impress this girl, Dot.”

Your grin widened. “Ah?”

“So I spent 3 dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her, which meant we had no money to go back, so we hitchhiked.”

You pulled out your phone.

“I need to check something, give me a second,” you said and quickly typed it into google, then gasped.

“3 dollars back then is— Bucky, you spent 70 dollars on a stuffed bear to impress a girl?” you exclaimed. “During Great Depression?”

“Mm hm.”

“Please tell me you did win the goddamn stuffed bear.”

“I did actually,” he said with a smirk. “And she was impressed, so money well spent.”

“So in your order of priorities,” you said, motioning with your hands, “impressing the girl was higher than going back to Brooklyn safe and sound? And comfortable?”

“Yeah, she was pretty.”

“And that’s enough reason?” You gawked at him. “She was pretty?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. And she wanted the stuffed bear.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile and heaved a sigh, then leaned back to narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it wasn’t just a rumor. You really were a charming ladies’ man back then.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “That’s not exactly…”

“Bucky, you looked like this.” You gestured at his face. “And I saw you in that footage, with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos. Come on, you were popular with women, it’s very obvious.”

That boyish smile pulled at his lips again. “Someone had to make sure Steve got a date, and double dates were all the rage back then.”

“Oh I’m sure you did all that for him.” You played along with a pout. “Of course. Did you use to dance as well?”

“I did, actually. Steve hated it, I didn’t mind.”

You hummed, fixing the silky skirts of your dress as you crossed your legs and he eyed you up and down, then leaned in so that you could hear his teasing tone.

“Do you wanna dance?”

That made your head whip around and you gawked at him before you snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s go dance in the ballroom full of people we work with, and the media,” you said. “After that PR disaster? Terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it had to be in the ballroom,” he said and stood up to offer you his hand, awakening butterflies in your stomach.

“Bucky…”

“It’s a waste of music if a pretty dame like you isn’t dancing to it darlin’,” he said with that old Brooklyn accent, a laugh spilling from your mouth before you scrunched up your face in embarrassment, then took his hand, a fire spreading from your fingers to your whole body.

“God, no wonder why Dot was impressed,” you said as he pulled you closer and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Is that right?”

It felt like your heart was trying to climb out of your chest and a giggle bloomed in your throat as he twirled you, then pulled you closer again.

“So this is James Bucky Barnes,” you mused. “I like him. I’d probably work for him back in the 1940s if he decided to get in politics.”

“He didn’t have any plans for politics, trust me.”

“Yeah well, it wouldn’t stop me. I’d talk him into it.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of him, the rare sound making you smile wide.

“I’d make him hire me,” you said. “Through Dot, by the way. Convince the wife and get the husband situation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah I don’t think he would up with Dot.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?”

“Because he is an idiot,” he said softly as you both swayed with music. “He messed things up with her.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you gulped, realizing that you weren't talking about Dot anymore.

“Beyond saving?”

“Feels that way.”

You scrunched up your nose. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, he backed himself into a corner,” he said, sadness etched on his handsome face. “Right person, wrong time.”

You could hardly hear him from the rush of blood in your ears, but you managed to shrug your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe it’s just another excuse for him to torture himself. I mean, time has to give him a break at some point, so they just need to find the corner their lines cross.”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could say anything, you both heard the sound of heels on the marble floor and you pulled your hand from his, stepping out of his embrace even if your body urged you not to. You fixed your hair just so that you could keep your hands busy and Kelsey appeared at the corner, then pulled her brows together.

“Hi,” she said after a beat. “Bucky, Caleb was looking for you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at you. “Are you…?”

“I actually need to borrow her for a moment,” Kelsey said and you motioned at the ballroom.

“You go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky walked past Kelsey to make his way into the ballroom and Kelsey approached you.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Long story,” you said. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Is everything okay in there?”

“I just saw Hazel leave,” she said. “Caleb thinks it’s an urgent business thing, she’s been here all week.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“That’s what Caleb wanted to ask him I think,” she said, linking her arm with yours. “Now come on. You can’t leave me alone with those assholes, and I think I’ve been flirting with a journalist so you need to tell me whether he’s hot or just tall.”

                                               *

Apparently, Hazel had left without letting Bucky know, so he had left as well to make sure she was alright, which meant you and Kelsey and Caleb could go home.

“We should’ve stolen a champagne bottle or something,” Caleb said while he laid on the floor on his back and you played with the corner of the pillow you were sitting on.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go to a gala. So the journalist, Kels?”

“He is kinda cute,” Kelsey said. “Like a puppy.”

“But he’s a journalist,” Caleb said. “I mean, can he be trusted?”

“Caleb, this is yet another instance we have to remind you that we work in politics,” you said, motioning between you. “Journalists think the same about us.”

“You work in politics, I work in communications.”

“Communications in politics.”

“That’s a detail though—” he started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing.

“At this hour?” Kelsey asked as Caleb sat up and answered the phone while you leaned in to hear what it was about.

“Hello? Yes, this is he.” Caleb said and listened to the other line, his eyes widening.

“What?” you whispered and he motioned at you to be silent, standing up to pace in the room. He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a breath.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes didn’t bring me up to speed I’m afraid,” he said, his gaze snapping to you before he mouthed ‘What the fuck’ and nodded as if the other person could see him. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea. Do you have my email address? Okay, great, I’ll check it out right now and get back to you, and we can put it out. Thank you, have a nice evening.”

He hung up and whirled on his heels to look at you and Kelsey.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“That was Hazel’s PR team.” He held up his phone. “They want to check in with me to see if their statement is in line with ours.”

“What statement?”

“Their break up statement.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him, disbelief crashing down on you while you reached to hold Kelsey’s arm.

“What?”

“I—what happened while you two were in that hallway?” Caleb asked you and you shook your head.

“We just danced,” you insisted while his eyes darted on the lines on his screen. “I swear. We were dancing and joking about his past—”

“Right before Kelsey found you?”

“Yeah!”

Caleb gritted his teeth and turned to Kelsey.

“And you found them right after Hazel left?”

A look of realization dawned on Kelsey’s face. “…Yeah.”

“No that’s not related,” you insisted, jumping on your feet. “I would’ve noticed if she saw us, or Bucky would—”

“A bunch of people were coming and going to the hallway next to it, he easily could’ve chalked it up to anyone else passing there.”

Your heart was pounding in your head as you covered your mouth.

“Good news is, there’s literally nothing about you on this statement,” Caleb murmured, his attention on his phone. “And her team said nothing about it either—shit, did we have her sign an NDA?”

“Knowing Bucky? I doubt it,” Kelsey said while Caleb touched his screen, then put the phone to his ear.

“Bucky,” he said, making your head whip up. “Hey. Yeah she’s fine. Yeah, I’m fine too. Uh…so friendly reminder, you’re supposed to tell me if you broke up with your girlfriend so that I can put out a statement before her team calls me. Because—” Caleb threw his hand in the air in exasperation. “Because that’s how it works. No, forget what I said about the Bachelor. Did you have her sign anything?” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you didn’t. Okay, I need you to tell me what happened in detail.”

You rushed to your room to change into a t-shirt and jeans as fast as you could, then stepped into the living room again.

“Are you going to Bucky’s place?” Kelsey whispered while Caleb kept pacing in the room, trying to convince Bucky that privacy didn’t exist in a situation like this, and you shook your head, making her frown.

“Then what—Birdie, no.” Her voice was stern as she realized what you were about to do. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What hotel is she staying at, Kels?”

“You’re the last person she wants to see, you do realize that?”

“And I owe her an explanation, you know that,” you said. “There’s no way she is at Bucky’s place, so what hotel?”

Kelsey pulled out her phone with a sigh, then touched the screen for a minute before your phone vibrated.

“There, the location, and the room number,” she said. “Bucky went there the other day.”

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing your coat on your way to the door. “I’ll text you.”

With that, you slammed the door behind you and rushed outside, raising your hand for a taxi.

                                        *

You knew Hazel didn’t want to see you.

You couldn’t even blame her. You had a pretty clear idea how that dance would look to an outsider, much less to her.

But you knew you had to explain yourself, and apologize.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as the elevator door opened, the door at the end of the hallway greeting you. Letting out a breath, you rolled your shoulders back and forced yourself to approach the door, then raised your fist to knock on it and stepped back, clasping your hands to stop the shaking.

Hazel scoffed a laugh when she opened the door.

“Oh this is gonna be fun,” she said, her voice calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Finished your dance?”

You closed your eyes for a second before you opened them.

“Miss Brooks, I’m really sorry,” you started, making her raise her brows as if she was amused. “I know how it looks like, but I swear to you nothing happened. I was feeling bad, that’s why I left the ballroom, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, I assure you—”

“Oh, you guys aren’t sleeping together.” Hazel waved a hand in the air. “But there is something between you. You know it, I know it, and Bucky also knows it even if he likes to pretend otherwise. He knew it throughout the time he was trying to make himself fall in love with me.”

You pulled back slightly, straining your mind to find the right thing to say.

“Miss Brooks—”

“I’m not going to say anything to the press,” she said. “So if that’s why you’re here, you can go away.”

You shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

Hazel held your gaze in hers as if she was trying to find any sign of dishonesty, then let out a breath.

“Listen, I’m going to show you this courtesy only because I’m not proud of how I treated you back in that bathroom,” she said. “I was still pretty angry, but blaming you makes no sense. That’s not the type of person I am, or the type of person I want to be.”

You wrung your hands, staring at her.

“I mean I asked him to fire you,” she said after a beat. “Not my proudest moment.”

“I get it,” you rasped out and she took a deep breath.

“And I hope you understand what I’m about to say doesn’t come from a place of hostility,” she said. “But from woman to woman? Don’t do it.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, your throat tightening.

“You know how it goes,” she said, her voice almost sad. “You’ve seen how quick the public was to forgive him for everything. His PR was good but no PR is that good, they want to love him. The guy is a superhero, he could walk away from politics today and it wouldn’t make any difference. They will still love him.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, nodding your head.

“So you know what will happen,” she said. “This is one of the rare things that hasn’t changed since the 40s, no matter what anyone says. He will be their hero, and you will be the whore.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“I need you to understand that,” she told you. “Doesn’t matter if I like you or not, I wouldn’t wish it upon any woman. They will fucking tear you apart, and trust me, not even the big bad Winter Soldier can protect you from that.”  

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

“And he doesn’t even see it.” She scoffed a laugh. “But you do. You’re smart, something inside you has to be warning you against this. You know the moment he steps out with you, he will be throwing you to the wolves.”

Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and you nodded again, heaving a shaky sigh while she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

She closed the door and you balled your hands into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms to focus on anything other than the tears falling from your eyes. You slowly made your way to the elevator to step in, watching the doors close.

And then you started sobbing.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Oh very very oblivious😈😈😈

Declassified [11] - Warning Shot

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Some dances look more than just friendly.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, throwing up, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.5k

Series Masterlist

If it were any other time, this gala would be exciting.

It was the perfect opportunity to meet more politicians, get some inside information, and overall a good place to make an impression. However, your love life was a mess, you dreamt about Bucky every night while keeping your distance from him all day, so you had no idea how to even begin forming a game plan for the gala, or care about it.

Also, Bucky looked like he had one thousand questions about why you started avoiding him all of a sudden out of nowhere yet again but you had to admit, he was being very understanding and did not push you.

Then again, maybe his girlfriend played a part in it.

“Can I just skip this one?”

You and Kelsey exchanged glances and she rolled her eyes while you heaved a sigh, then checked your lipstick on the mirror.

“Caleb, get in here.”

“No seriously, DC has a bunch of charity galas I can join some other time—”

“Get in here!” You both called out at the same time and he huffed, then stepped into the living room, still fiddling with his bowtie. One simple observer would have thought he was being forced to go to war instead of a gala from the miserable look on his face, and you stifled your laugh while Kelsey walked to him to bat his hand away so that she could fix his bowtie.

“I look like a waiter.”

“You look like a handsome guy in a suit.”

“Handsome waiter in a suit.”

“Caleb,” Kelsey said patiently. “I will be Bucky’s shadow in that ballroom and running around the place on stilettos. I think you and your bowtie will be fine.”

“I can give you my shoes at the end of the night if you want,” Caleb said and Kelsey smiled at him.

“Not gonna turn down that offer, thank you.”

“Birdie?” Caleb turned to you and you winked at him.

“You look like a handsome PR manager in a suit.”

Caleb let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Anyone else feel like this is prom night?”

“I lost my virginity on prom night,” Kelsey mused, checking her phone and you raised your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at the back of the limo my date rented.”

You grinned. “Classy. I’ve never had sex in a car.”

“You’re telling me Five Minutes Comma Max wasn’t adventurous?” Caleb teased you. “Shocker.”

“I should make a list or something.”

“A sex list?”

“Yeah for like places and stuff.”

“Uber is here,” Kelsey said and you grabbed your purse off the coffee table while Caleb rolled his shoulders back. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you said. “Let’s go to prom.”

                                               *

This was not prom.

This was prom West Wing edition.

There were so many important people everywhere that you didn’t even know where to start. You could see your father talking to a senator at the corner of the ballroom, and the sight was enough to make your stomach do a nervous flip, but you cracked your knuckles, searching the room for—

Oh there he was.   

It wasn’t like you expected him not to look good in a suit but this was another level. For a couple of seconds, you let yourself stare at him; your heartbeat getting faster while he gave a curt smile to something Hazel said, then made a face and shook his head, making her laugh.

Jesus, they really did make a hot couple.

Jealous burned at the pit of your stomach but you frowned to yourself, trying to focus. Kelsey made her way to him while Caleb walked to one of the journalists he knew, and you took a deep breath, then approached him.

Professional.

You were going to be just professional and get through tonight, and then go home where you could whine all you wanted.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes. Miss Brooks.” You offered a smile to her which she acknowledged with a nod, but you made sure not to look at Bucky, instead lowering your glances to your phone in your hand. “Mr. Barnes, I think it could be a good idea to talk Congressman Murray tonight about the veteran bill proposal once you get the chance. He has military background, he supports getting more financial support to veteran families especially after the Blip, and he has already contacted us for next week, so it could be the first step to breaking the ice. I sent you the main points of the latest bill he proposed a couple of months ago, so if you’d like to take a look, it could help.”

Silence.

You pulled your brows together and looked up from your phone to find him staring at you in awe, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel your cheeks burning but you shot him a quizzical look, which made him clear his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed to say. “Can you repeat that?”

Oh this was not going to help this situation with Hazel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking between you while Kelsey bit back a smile, and you took a deep breath.

“Congressman Murray could help with the veteran bill, I sent you the details.”

“Ah,” he said. “Right, yeah. Which one is he?”

“That one.” Kelsey pointed at the man subtly and Bucky nodded like he was trying to focus.

“Okay.”

“I’d better go and see who else is here,” you said and walked away from them in a rush just so that you wouldn’t be alone with Hazel. You looked around and made your way to one of the waiters to grab a champagne flute from the tray he carried, then thanked him and took a huge sip of the champagne, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Wow.”

You looked over your shoulder, then smiled at Lucas and turned to see him better.

“Hi.”

He let out a breath, eyeing you up and down. “You look amazing, Hurricane.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, your smiling growing bigger. “Hey, how come you know my nickname and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I came to the Capitol before you.”

“Oh that’s how it works?”

“Mm hm,” he said solemnly. “Not to look like I’m pulling rank but…”

“But you are pulling rank?”

“But I am pulling rank,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “Sorry about that, but technically you’re a freshman and I’m a senior.”

“You’re a sophomore at best,” you deadpanned. “And in case you forgot, this freshman is helping you with that mess you call a draft.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, inspecting your nails nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“I mean I wouldn’t call it helping,” he teased you back. “More like I’m showing you the ropes.”

You let out a hum, swirling your champagne in the glass.

“I’ve seen first graders with better text cohesion.”

 “Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said calmly. “You know Lucas, there’s nothing wrong with being bad at things. We all have to start somewhere.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “For example, I was just like you when I was in college.”

“Oh, in college?”

“Lost…” You waved a hand in the air. “Clueless. Amateur. Poor in vocabulary.”

He made a face. “No you weren’t, you were the top of your class.”

You tilted your head. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways.” He motioned at you to keep going. “But back to dragging me.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “And then I worked very hard and then…here we are. It might take you longer but you’ll get there.”

“We should’ve called you Viper instead of Hurricane.”

“That does sound more badass than Hurricane—” you started but Lucas’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, his smile wiping off his face immediately, and you frowned before you heard your father’s voice.

“Do you mind, Lucas?”

Lucas looked from your father to you, then shifted his weight and heaved a sigh.

“See you later, Hurricane.”

Your father gave you a small smile as Lucas walked away and you turned to glare at him.

“Dad,” you said through your teeth. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Let’s be serious here, you can do better than a glorified assistant.” He scoffed. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m working.”

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. “You used to throw fits whenever your mother and I took you to events if we didn’t have our father-daughter dance.”

“Well in my defense, I was like eight,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the people who were dancing in the ballroom. “And half of the government wasn’t in the room. And I wasn’t working.”

“And how is it going at work?” he asked. “I saw Barnes talking to Murray just now. Let me guess, they’ll work together on the veteran bill?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah. And after Bucky is done talking to him, I’ll talk to Congressman Riley about our project for the education of children in low income families.”

“What’s next?” he asked. “We start handing out stacks of money on the street?”

“You have more than enough. Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“At the risk of sounding like a hopeless idealist, I happen to think some of the government money should be used for people in need instead of your buddies buying yachts,” you snarked. “I know it’s a little difficult to understand it for you, the idea of helping people.”

“We do help people, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the world is a much better place with your help.” You snorted and raised your glass in a mock of toast. “They don’t thank you enough.”

“Pumpkin, you know how it goes,” he said. “Some win and some lose. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with the rules for this game.”

“No but you keep rigging it,” you growled through your teeth, looking him in the eye. “And for most people, dad, it’s not a game. A lot of people are in need of help. Real help.”

“And you want to be Robin Hood.”

“I want to make a difference in the world,” you insisted. “I’m going to—I’m going to help people—”

“Before or after going on a date with your boss?”

That made you shut up immediately and you pulled back a little, searching your mind for the right words.

“I already talked to mom about this,” you managed to say. “That’s just lies.”

He hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t appreciate getting my name dragged into tabloid gossip,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “Any more than I appreciate seeing my daughter put herself in that situation.”

This—

Alright.

You could feel the familiar knots in your stomach, your throat tightening. This was exactly how it would go when you were little, your father’s voice turning into this, and the moment you opened your mouth to explain yourself, yelling would start. Panic was already giving you nausea but you managed to keep your expression flat before you downed your drink and put it on a tray a waiter was carrying just so that you could cross your arms to hide the trembling of your hands.

“I don’t control what the PR comes up with,” you pointed out. “And I didn’t put myself in any situation—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he cut you off, his voice low but stern. “I’m interested in solutions. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there dumbfounded as you felt your breath hitching in your throat.

No.

This was not happening, not right now and especially not here.

You darted through the ballroom as subtly as you could without getting any attention on you, then stepped out into the hallway to rush to the bathroom. You slammed the door open, then ran to the nearest stool to throw up, pushing the button to flush it before you put the lid down, and sat on top of it.

Your hands were still shaking and you closed your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing under control.

This was just nonsense. You weren’t a child anymore, your father couldn’t yell at you without you yelling back, and there was no way he would’ve tried to yell at you surrounded by all those people in the ballroom but—

But the fear of disappointing him was still enough to make you throw up.

It took you almost half an hour to pull yourself together. You massaged your temples, willing the headache to disappear before you stepped out of the stool, then walked to the sink to wash your hands, then kept them under the cold water.

The girl next to you gave you a sympathetic smile. “I hate these things too.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered. “Any chance you have mints?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She reached into her purse to pull out a pack of mints and you took one to pop it in your mouth.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Mel,” she said. “I work for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

“CIA.” You whistled. “Badass. I work for Congressman Barnes.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I knew I’ve seen you somewhere, in that—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and you heaved a sigh.

“That gossip piece, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry.”

“You weren’t rude,” you said. “No worries.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she checked it, then turned to you.

“Gotta go but it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said and turned to check your makeup in the mirror, then grabbed a tissue to dab at your eyes.

“Get your shit together,” you muttered to yourself and threw the tissue into the garbage can, then walked out of the bathroom. You slowly made your way toward the ballroom but when you felt your throat tightening, you huffed out and turned the nearest corner to another empty hallway, then sat on the stairs.

Fine, you apparently needed more time.

You didn’t even have the energy to check your phone that kept buzzing because that meant you needed to go into the ballroom, so you kept it in your lap while you wrung your hands, then cracked your knuckles one by one. Counting in your head, you took a deep breath, and leaned your forehead on your knees to focus before you exhaled.

“Here you are.”

It was almost funny how with just his voice he managed to pull you out of the spiral of your thoughts. You could feel your lips pulling into a small smile and you took another breath, then lifted your head to look up at him.

He was way too handsome.

“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes searching your face and you scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Drinking champagne on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just gonna take five and then go back. How about you, why are you here?”

“I don’t really like the whole…” He motioned in the direction of the ballroom and you raised your brows.

“Socializing in order to manipulate people?”

“That and just—people,” he admitted, then nodded at the stair you were sitting on. “Got room for one more person in there?”

You scooted over and he sat down next to you, making you let out a giggle.

“You do know that we’re supposed to be in there working people?”

“It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Still,” you said. “I doubt many politicians or employees are hiding from the crowd sitting on a staircase.”

“Well, you’re the only person I actually want to sit with tonight,” he said with a shrug, as if that didn’t make your stomach flutter. “What’s your excuse?”

Focus.

“How did it go with Murray?”

“He wanted me to share stories.”

“From the front?”

He nodded and you scrunched up your nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, then turned sideways to see him better, resting your chin on your fist.

“I wonder about that too sometimes, you know?”

He frowned. “The front?”

You shook your head. “Who you were back then. I mean I saw the footage with the Howling Commandoes and Steve Rogers, and you were…” You paused for a second and sat up straighter, grinning at him. “Tell me who you were.”

“You know who I was,” he said as if the answer was obvious and you shook your head again.

“I’m not asking about Sergeant Barnes, or the Winter Soldier,” you told him. “I’m asking about James Bucky Barnes before the war.”

He raised his brows like he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. You had seen that look on his face before, a mixture of curiosity and longing as he fell into silence, trying to dig up a memory that wasn’t full of trauma or bloodshed, a memory that was warm and pleasant and carefree.

“Well, things were difficult even before the war,” he started. “But I think I was happy. Me and Steve, we basically grew up together. My mother would always put a plate on the table for him on Sunday breakfast.”

A soft smile warmed your face. “That’s sweet of her.”

“We would get in trouble sometimes, which she hated,” he said. “Me and Steve, we once went to Rockaway Beach, and had to come back to Brooklyn on the back of a freezer truck.”

“Wait, why?”

He let out a chuckle. “Well, Steve spent our money on hot dogs, and I was trying to impress this girl, Dot.”

Your grin widened. “Ah?”

“So I spent 3 dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her, which meant we had no money to go back, so we hitchhiked.”

You pulled out your phone.

“I need to check something, give me a second,” you said and quickly typed it into google, then gasped.

“3 dollars back then is— Bucky, you spent 70 dollars on a stuffed bear to impress a girl?” you exclaimed. “During Great Depression?”

“Mm hm.”

“Please tell me you did win the goddamn stuffed bear.”

“I did actually,” he said with a smirk. “And she was impressed, so money well spent.”

“So in your order of priorities,” you said, motioning with your hands, “impressing the girl was higher than going back to Brooklyn safe and sound? And comfortable?”

“Yeah, she was pretty.”

“And that’s enough reason?” You gawked at him. “She was pretty?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. And she wanted the stuffed bear.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile and heaved a sigh, then leaned back to narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it wasn’t just a rumor. You really were a charming ladies’ man back then.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “That’s not exactly…”

“Bucky, you looked like this.” You gestured at his face. “And I saw you in that footage, with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos. Come on, you were popular with women, it’s very obvious.”

That boyish smile pulled at his lips again. “Someone had to make sure Steve got a date, and double dates were all the rage back then.”

“Oh I’m sure you did all that for him.” You played along with a pout. “Of course. Did you use to dance as well?”

“I did, actually. Steve hated it, I didn’t mind.”

You hummed, fixing the silky skirts of your dress as you crossed your legs and he eyed you up and down, then leaned in so that you could hear his teasing tone.

“Do you wanna dance?”

That made your head whip around and you gawked at him before you snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s go dance in the ballroom full of people we work with, and the media,” you said. “After that PR disaster? Terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it had to be in the ballroom,” he said and stood up to offer you his hand, awakening butterflies in your stomach.

“Bucky…”

“It’s a waste of music if a pretty dame like you isn’t dancing to it darlin’,” he said with that old Brooklyn accent, a laugh spilling from your mouth before you scrunched up your face in embarrassment, then took his hand, a fire spreading from your fingers to your whole body.

“God, no wonder why Dot was impressed,” you said as he pulled you closer and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Is that right?”

It felt like your heart was trying to climb out of your chest and a giggle bloomed in your throat as he twirled you, then pulled you closer again.

“So this is James Bucky Barnes,” you mused. “I like him. I’d probably work for him back in the 1940s if he decided to get in politics.”

“He didn’t have any plans for politics, trust me.”

“Yeah well, it wouldn’t stop me. I’d talk him into it.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of him, the rare sound making you smile wide.

“I’d make him hire me,” you said. “Through Dot, by the way. Convince the wife and get the husband situation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah I don’t think he would up with Dot.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?”

“Because he is an idiot,” he said softly as you both swayed with music. “He messed things up with her.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you gulped, realizing that you weren't talking about Dot anymore.

“Beyond saving?”

“Feels that way.”

You scrunched up your nose. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, he backed himself into a corner,” he said, sadness etched on his handsome face. “Right person, wrong time.”

You could hardly hear him from the rush of blood in your ears, but you managed to shrug your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe it’s just another excuse for him to torture himself. I mean, time has to give him a break at some point, so they just need to find the corner their lines cross.”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could say anything, you both heard the sound of heels on the marble floor and you pulled your hand from his, stepping out of his embrace even if your body urged you not to. You fixed your hair just so that you could keep your hands busy and Kelsey appeared at the corner, then pulled her brows together.

“Hi,” she said after a beat. “Bucky, Caleb was looking for you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at you. “Are you…?”

“I actually need to borrow her for a moment,” Kelsey said and you motioned at the ballroom.

“You go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky walked past Kelsey to make his way into the ballroom and Kelsey approached you.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Long story,” you said. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Is everything okay in there?”

“I just saw Hazel leave,” she said. “Caleb thinks it’s an urgent business thing, she’s been here all week.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“That’s what Caleb wanted to ask him I think,” she said, linking her arm with yours. “Now come on. You can’t leave me alone with those assholes, and I think I’ve been flirting with a journalist so you need to tell me whether he’s hot or just tall.”

                                               *

Apparently, Hazel had left without letting Bucky know, so he had left as well to make sure she was alright, which meant you and Kelsey and Caleb could go home.

“We should’ve stolen a champagne bottle or something,” Caleb said while he laid on the floor on his back and you played with the corner of the pillow you were sitting on.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go to a gala. So the journalist, Kels?”

“He is kinda cute,” Kelsey said. “Like a puppy.”

“But he’s a journalist,” Caleb said. “I mean, can he be trusted?”

“Caleb, this is yet another instance we have to remind you that we work in politics,” you said, motioning between you. “Journalists think the same about us.”

“You work in politics, I work in communications.”

“Communications in politics.”

“That’s a detail though—” he started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing.

“At this hour?” Kelsey asked as Caleb sat up and answered the phone while you leaned in to hear what it was about.

“Hello? Yes, this is he.” Caleb said and listened to the other line, his eyes widening.

“What?” you whispered and he motioned at you to be silent, standing up to pace in the room. He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a breath.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes didn’t bring me up to speed I’m afraid,” he said, his gaze snapping to you before he mouthed ‘What the fuck’ and nodded as if the other person could see him. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea. Do you have my email address? Okay, great, I’ll check it out right now and get back to you, and we can put it out. Thank you, have a nice evening.”

He hung up and whirled on his heels to look at you and Kelsey.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“That was Hazel’s PR team.” He held up his phone. “They want to check in with me to see if their statement is in line with ours.”

“What statement?”

“Their break up statement.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him, disbelief crashing down on you while you reached to hold Kelsey’s arm.

“What?”

“I—what happened while you two were in that hallway?” Caleb asked you and you shook your head.

“We just danced,” you insisted while his eyes darted on the lines on his screen. “I swear. We were dancing and joking about his past—”

“Right before Kelsey found you?”

“Yeah!”

Caleb gritted his teeth and turned to Kelsey.

“And you found them right after Hazel left?”

A look of realization dawned on Kelsey’s face. “…Yeah.”

“No that’s not related,” you insisted, jumping on your feet. “I would’ve noticed if she saw us, or Bucky would—”

“A bunch of people were coming and going to the hallway next to it, he easily could’ve chalked it up to anyone else passing there.”

Your heart was pounding in your head as you covered your mouth.

“Good news is, there’s literally nothing about you on this statement,” Caleb murmured, his attention on his phone. “And her team said nothing about it either—shit, did we have her sign an NDA?”

“Knowing Bucky? I doubt it,” Kelsey said while Caleb touched his screen, then put the phone to his ear.

“Bucky,” he said, making your head whip up. “Hey. Yeah she’s fine. Yeah, I’m fine too. Uh…so friendly reminder, you’re supposed to tell me if you broke up with your girlfriend so that I can put out a statement before her team calls me. Because—” Caleb threw his hand in the air in exasperation. “Because that’s how it works. No, forget what I said about the Bachelor. Did you have her sign anything?” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you didn’t. Okay, I need you to tell me what happened in detail.”

You rushed to your room to change into a t-shirt and jeans as fast as you could, then stepped into the living room again.

“Are you going to Bucky’s place?” Kelsey whispered while Caleb kept pacing in the room, trying to convince Bucky that privacy didn’t exist in a situation like this, and you shook your head, making her frown.

“Then what—Birdie, no.” Her voice was stern as she realized what you were about to do. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What hotel is she staying at, Kels?”

“You’re the last person she wants to see, you do realize that?”

“And I owe her an explanation, you know that,” you said. “There’s no way she is at Bucky’s place, so what hotel?”

Kelsey pulled out her phone with a sigh, then touched the screen for a minute before your phone vibrated.

“There, the location, and the room number,” she said. “Bucky went there the other day.”

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing your coat on your way to the door. “I’ll text you.”

With that, you slammed the door behind you and rushed outside, raising your hand for a taxi.

                                        *

You knew Hazel didn’t want to see you.

You couldn’t even blame her. You had a pretty clear idea how that dance would look to an outsider, much less to her.

But you knew you had to explain yourself, and apologize.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as the elevator door opened, the door at the end of the hallway greeting you. Letting out a breath, you rolled your shoulders back and forced yourself to approach the door, then raised your fist to knock on it and stepped back, clasping your hands to stop the shaking.

Hazel scoffed a laugh when she opened the door.

“Oh this is gonna be fun,” she said, her voice calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Finished your dance?”

You closed your eyes for a second before you opened them.

“Miss Brooks, I’m really sorry,” you started, making her raise her brows as if she was amused. “I know how it looks like, but I swear to you nothing happened. I was feeling bad, that’s why I left the ballroom, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, I assure you—”

“Oh, you guys aren’t sleeping together.” Hazel waved a hand in the air. “But there is something between you. You know it, I know it, and Bucky also knows it even if he likes to pretend otherwise. He knew it throughout the time he was trying to make himself fall in love with me.”

You pulled back slightly, straining your mind to find the right thing to say.

“Miss Brooks—”

“I’m not going to say anything to the press,” she said. “So if that’s why you’re here, you can go away.”

You shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

Hazel held your gaze in hers as if she was trying to find any sign of dishonesty, then let out a breath.

“Listen, I’m going to show you this courtesy only because I’m not proud of how I treated you back in that bathroom,” she said. “I was still pretty angry, but blaming you makes no sense. That’s not the type of person I am, or the type of person I want to be.”

You wrung your hands, staring at her.

“I mean I asked him to fire you,” she said after a beat. “Not my proudest moment.”

“I get it,” you rasped out and she took a deep breath.

“And I hope you understand what I’m about to say doesn’t come from a place of hostility,” she said. “But from woman to woman? Don’t do it.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, your throat tightening.

“You know how it goes,” she said, her voice almost sad. “You’ve seen how quick the public was to forgive him for everything. His PR was good but no PR is that good, they want to love him. The guy is a superhero, he could walk away from politics today and it wouldn’t make any difference. They will still love him.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, nodding your head.

“So you know what will happen,” she said. “This is one of the rare things that hasn’t changed since the 40s, no matter what anyone says. He will be their hero, and you will be the whore.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“I need you to understand that,” she told you. “Doesn’t matter if I like you or not, I wouldn’t wish it upon any woman. They will fucking tear you apart, and trust me, not even the big bad Winter Soldier can protect you from that.”  

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

“And he doesn’t even see it.” She scoffed a laugh. “But you do. You’re smart, something inside you has to be warning you against this. You know the moment he steps out with you, he will be throwing you to the wolves.”

Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and you nodded again, heaving a shaky sigh while she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

She closed the door and you balled your hands into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms to focus on anything other than the tears falling from your eyes. You slowly made your way to the elevator to step in, watching the doors close.

And then you started sobbing.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Declassified 12 - Sneak Peek

Series Masterlist

“Birdie.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh at his teasing tone and looked up at him. “Hm?”

“Let’s have lunch.”

“You literally came back from lunch.”

“I can eat again.” He started tilting the screen of your laptop down but you batted his hand away, then fixed the screen again. “It’s a metabolism thing.”

“Super soldier metabolism?”

“Mm hm.”

“Good for you, I’m too busy,” you said. “I already spent enough time doing nothing with my mom yesterday when I was supposed to go over this, so…”

“You were with your mom?” he asked. “How did that go?”

“Dad wasn’t home so it was fine. Ish.”

“Fine-ish?”

“My mom doesn’t really know much about me but the parts she knows, she loves to dismiss,” you said. “They make a terrific couple with my dad, terrible parents though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said. “Without them, my old therapist wouldn’t have been able to buy her second Ferrari, so I guess it wasn’t a total disaster.”

“And you can tell me all about it while we’re having lunch.”

You turned to your laptop. “Take a powder, Barnes.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the clear confusion on his face but it turned into an amused smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“How did you…?”

“Hey, I could have an extensive vocabulary.” You grinned at him. “You don’t know my lexicon.”

“Right. Why do I feel like you googled 40s slang?”

“I once saw you google if lavender is edible, so how about we stop pointing fingers?” you asked and he shook his head vigorously.

“In my defense, Kelsey got me a lavender latte and insisted I had to try it.”

“And what did you think? Your assistant was trying to poison you?”

He shot you a look as if you were asking him a question with a very obvious answer. “It’s Kelsey.”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Fair enough,” you said. “But come on, she—”

You stopped talking when your phone started buzzing, making both you and Bucky turn your eyes to the screen, and you both frowned at the same time.

“He’s still calling you?”

[dreamwritesimagines]

Aw thank you darling! 🥰🥰🥰

Declassified [11] - Warning Shot

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Some dances look more than just friendly.

Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, throwing up, mentions of sexual acts.

Word Count: 5.5k

Series Masterlist

If it were any other time, this gala would be exciting.

It was the perfect opportunity to meet more politicians, get some inside information, and overall a good place to make an impression. However, your love life was a mess, you dreamt about Bucky every night while keeping your distance from him all day, so you had no idea how to even begin forming a game plan for the gala, or care about it.

Also, Bucky looked like he had one thousand questions about why you started avoiding him all of a sudden out of nowhere yet again but you had to admit, he was being very understanding and did not push you.

Then again, maybe his girlfriend played a part in it.

“Can I just skip this one?”

You and Kelsey exchanged glances and she rolled her eyes while you heaved a sigh, then checked your lipstick on the mirror.

“Caleb, get in here.”

“No seriously, DC has a bunch of charity galas I can join some other time—”

“Get in here!” You both called out at the same time and he huffed, then stepped into the living room, still fiddling with his bowtie. One simple observer would have thought he was being forced to go to war instead of a gala from the miserable look on his face, and you stifled your laugh while Kelsey walked to him to bat his hand away so that she could fix his bowtie.

“I look like a waiter.”

“You look like a handsome guy in a suit.”

“Handsome waiter in a suit.”

“Caleb,” Kelsey said patiently. “I will be Bucky’s shadow in that ballroom and running around the place on stilettos. I think you and your bowtie will be fine.”

“I can give you my shoes at the end of the night if you want,” Caleb said and Kelsey smiled at him.

“Not gonna turn down that offer, thank you.”

“Birdie?” Caleb turned to you and you winked at him.

“You look like a handsome PR manager in a suit.”

Caleb let out a breath and ran his hands through his hair.

“Anyone else feel like this is prom night?”

“I lost my virginity on prom night,” Kelsey mused, checking her phone and you raised your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, at the back of the limo my date rented.”

You grinned. “Classy. I’ve never had sex in a car.”

“You’re telling me Five Minutes Comma Max wasn’t adventurous?” Caleb teased you. “Shocker.”

“I should make a list or something.”

“A sex list?”

“Yeah for like places and stuff.”

“Uber is here,” Kelsey said and you grabbed your purse off the coffee table while Caleb rolled his shoulders back. “Ready?”

“Yep,” you said. “Let’s go to prom.”

                                               *

This was not prom.

This was prom West Wing edition.

There were so many important people everywhere that you didn’t even know where to start. You could see your father talking to a senator at the corner of the ballroom, and the sight was enough to make your stomach do a nervous flip, but you cracked your knuckles, searching the room for—

Oh there he was.   

It wasn’t like you expected him not to look good in a suit but this was another level. For a couple of seconds, you let yourself stare at him; your heartbeat getting faster while he gave a curt smile to something Hazel said, then made a face and shook his head, making her laugh.

Jesus, they really did make a hot couple.

Jealous burned at the pit of your stomach but you frowned to yourself, trying to focus. Kelsey made her way to him while Caleb walked to one of the journalists he knew, and you took a deep breath, then approached him.

Professional.

You were going to be just professional and get through tonight, and then go home where you could whine all you wanted.

“Good evening Mr. Barnes. Miss Brooks.” You offered a smile to her which she acknowledged with a nod, but you made sure not to look at Bucky, instead lowering your glances to your phone in your hand. “Mr. Barnes, I think it could be a good idea to talk Congressman Murray tonight about the veteran bill proposal once you get the chance. He has military background, he supports getting more financial support to veteran families especially after the Blip, and he has already contacted us for next week, so it could be the first step to breaking the ice. I sent you the main points of the latest bill he proposed a couple of months ago, so if you’d like to take a look, it could help.”

Silence.

You pulled your brows together and looked up from your phone to find him staring at you in awe, making your heart skip a beat. You could feel your cheeks burning but you shot him a quizzical look, which made him clear his throat, trying to pull himself together.

“Sorry, I zoned out,” he managed to say. “Can you repeat that?”

Oh this was not going to help this situation with Hazel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking between you while Kelsey bit back a smile, and you took a deep breath.

“Congressman Murray could help with the veteran bill, I sent you the details.”

“Ah,” he said. “Right, yeah. Which one is he?”

“That one.” Kelsey pointed at the man subtly and Bucky nodded like he was trying to focus.

“Okay.”

“I’d better go and see who else is here,” you said and walked away from them in a rush just so that you wouldn’t be alone with Hazel. You looked around and made your way to one of the waiters to grab a champagne flute from the tray he carried, then thanked him and took a huge sip of the champagne, closing your eyes for a moment.

Tonight was going to be a long night.

“Wow.”

You looked over your shoulder, then smiled at Lucas and turned to see him better.

“Hi.”

He let out a breath, eyeing you up and down. “You look amazing, Hurricane.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said, your smiling growing bigger. “Hey, how come you know my nickname and I don’t know yours?”

“Because I came to the Capitol before you.”

“Oh that’s how it works?”

“Mm hm,” he said solemnly. “Not to look like I’m pulling rank but…”

“But you are pulling rank?”

“But I am pulling rank,” he repeated with a nod of his head. “Sorry about that, but technically you’re a freshman and I’m a senior.”

“You’re a sophomore at best,” you deadpanned. “And in case you forgot, this freshman is helping you with that mess you call a draft.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh that’s how we’re gonna play this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, inspecting your nails nonchalantly. “Just saying.”

“I mean I wouldn’t call it helping,” he teased you back. “More like I’m showing you the ropes.”

You let out a hum, swirling your champagne in the glass.

“I’ve seen first graders with better text cohesion.”

 “Ouch.” He grinned. “That hurt.”

“It shouldn’t,” you said calmly. “You know Lucas, there’s nothing wrong with being bad at things. We all have to start somewhere.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm hm,” you said. “For example, I was just like you when I was in college.”

“Oh, in college?”

“Lost…” You waved a hand in the air. “Clueless. Amateur. Poor in vocabulary.”

He made a face. “No you weren’t, you were the top of your class.”

You tilted your head. “And how would you know that?”

“I have my ways.” He motioned at you to keep going. “But back to dragging me.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “And then I worked very hard and then…here we are. It might take you longer but you’ll get there.”

“We should’ve called you Viper instead of Hurricane.”

“That does sound more badass than Hurricane—” you started but Lucas’s eyes found someone over your shoulder, his smile wiping off his face immediately, and you frowned before you heard your father’s voice.

“Do you mind, Lucas?”

Lucas looked from your father to you, then shifted his weight and heaved a sigh.

“See you later, Hurricane.”

Your father gave you a small smile as Lucas walked away and you turned to glare at him.

“Dad,” you said through your teeth. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Let’s be serious here, you can do better than a glorified assistant.” He scoffed. “Would you like to dance?”

“I’m working.”

“Oh come on,” he said with a chuckle. “You used to throw fits whenever your mother and I took you to events if we didn’t have our father-daughter dance.”

“Well in my defense, I was like eight,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the people who were dancing in the ballroom. “And half of the government wasn’t in the room. And I wasn’t working.”

“And how is it going at work?” he asked. “I saw Barnes talking to Murray just now. Let me guess, they’ll work together on the veteran bill?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah. And after Bucky is done talking to him, I’ll talk to Congressman Riley about our project for the education of children in low income families.”

“What’s next?” he asked. “We start handing out stacks of money on the street?”

“You have more than enough. Why not?”

“That’s not how it works.”

“At the risk of sounding like a hopeless idealist, I happen to think some of the government money should be used for people in need instead of your buddies buying yachts,” you snarked. “I know it’s a little difficult to understand it for you, the idea of helping people.”

“We do help people, you know.”

“Oh yeah, the world is a much better place with your help.” You snorted and raised your glass in a mock of toast. “They don’t thank you enough.”

“Pumpkin, you know how it goes,” he said. “Some win and some lose. Don’t blame me, I didn’t come up with the rules for this game.”

“No but you keep rigging it,” you growled through your teeth, looking him in the eye. “And for most people, dad, it’s not a game. A lot of people are in need of help. Real help.”

“And you want to be Robin Hood.”

“I want to make a difference in the world,” you insisted. “I’m going to—I’m going to help people—”

“Before or after going on a date with your boss?”

That made you shut up immediately and you pulled back a little, searching your mind for the right words.

“I already talked to mom about this,” you managed to say. “That’s just lies.”

He hummed and took a sip of his drink.

“I don’t appreciate getting my name dragged into tabloid gossip,” he said, his voice void of any emotion. “Any more than I appreciate seeing my daughter put herself in that situation.”

This—

Alright.

You could feel the familiar knots in your stomach, your throat tightening. This was exactly how it would go when you were little, your father’s voice turning into this, and the moment you opened your mouth to explain yourself, yelling would start. Panic was already giving you nausea but you managed to keep your expression flat before you downed your drink and put it on a tray a waiter was carrying just so that you could cross your arms to hide the trembling of your hands.

“I don’t control what the PR comes up with,” you pointed out. “And I didn’t put myself in any situation—”

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he cut you off, his voice low but stern. “I’m interested in solutions. Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there dumbfounded as you felt your breath hitching in your throat.

No.

This was not happening, not right now and especially not here.

You darted through the ballroom as subtly as you could without getting any attention on you, then stepped out into the hallway to rush to the bathroom. You slammed the door open, then ran to the nearest stool to throw up, pushing the button to flush it before you put the lid down, and sat on top of it.

Your hands were still shaking and you closed your eyes shut, trying to keep your breathing under control.

This was just nonsense. You weren’t a child anymore, your father couldn’t yell at you without you yelling back, and there was no way he would’ve tried to yell at you surrounded by all those people in the ballroom but—

But the fear of disappointing him was still enough to make you throw up.

It took you almost half an hour to pull yourself together. You massaged your temples, willing the headache to disappear before you stepped out of the stool, then walked to the sink to keep your hands under the cold water.

The girl next to you gave you a sympathetic smile. “I hate these things too.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered. “Any chance you have mints?”

“Oh yeah, here.” She reached into her purse to pull out a pack of mints and you took one to pop it in your mouth.

“Thanks.”

“I’m Mel,” she said. “I work for Valentina Allegra de Fontaine.”

“CIA.” You whistled. “Badass. I work for Congressman Barnes.”

Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I knew I’ve seen you somewhere, in that—”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and you heaved a sigh.

“That gossip piece, yeah.”

“I didn’t mean to be rude, sorry.”

“You weren’t rude,” you said. “No worries.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand and she checked it, then turned to you.

“Gotta go but it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you said and turned to check your makeup in the mirror, then grabbed a tissue to dab at your eyes.

“Get your shit together,” you muttered to yourself and threw the tissue into the garbage can, then walked out of the bathroom. You slowly made your way toward the ballroom but when you felt your throat tightening, you huffed out and turned the nearest corner to another empty hallway, then sat on the stairs.

Fine, you apparently needed more time.

You didn’t even have the energy to check your phone that kept buzzing because that meant you needed to go into the ballroom, so you kept it in your lap while you wrung your hands, then cracked your knuckles one by one. Counting in your head, you took a deep breath, and leaned your forehead on your knees to focus before you exhaled.

“Here you are.”

It was almost funny how with just his voice he managed to pull you out of the spiral of your thoughts. You could feel your lips pulling into a small smile and you took another breath, then lifted your head to look up at him.

He was way too handsome.

“You okay?” he asked, his blue eyes searching your face and you scoffed, waving a hand in the air.

“Drinking champagne on an empty stomach isn’t the best idea.”

“You think so?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just gonna take five and then go back. How about you, why are you here?”

“I don’t really like the whole…” He motioned in the direction of the ballroom and you raised your brows.

“Socializing in order to manipulate people?”

“That and just—people,” he admitted, then nodded at the stair you were sitting on. “Got room for one more person in there?”

You scooted over and he sat down next to you, making you let out a giggle.

“You do know that we’re supposed to be in there working people?”

“It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“Still,” you said. “I doubt many politicians or employees are hiding from the crowd sitting on a staircase.”

“Well, you’re the only person I actually want to sit with tonight,” he said with a shrug, as if that didn’t make your stomach flutter. “What’s your excuse?”

Focus.

“How did it go with Murray?”

“He wanted me to share stories.”

“From the front?”

He nodded and you scrunched up your nose. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, then turned sideways to see him better, resting your chin on your fist.

“I wonder about that too sometimes, you know?”

He frowned. “The front?”

You shook your head. “Who you were back then. I mean I saw the footage with the Howling Commandoes and Steve Rogers, and you were…” You paused for a second and sat up straighter, grinning at him. “Tell me who you were.”

“You know who I was,” he said as if the answer was obvious and you shook your head again.

“I’m not asking about Sergeant Barnes, or the Winter Soldier,” you told him. “I’m asking about James Bucky Barnes before the war.”

He raised his brows like he hadn’t thought about that in a long time. You had seen that look on his face before, a mixture of curiosity and longing as he fell into silence, trying to dig up a memory that wasn’t full of trauma or bloodshed, a memory that was warm and pleasant and carefree.

“Well, things were difficult even before the war,” he started. “But I think I was happy. Me and Steve, we basically grew up together. My mother would always put a plate on the table for him on Sunday breakfast.”

A soft smile warmed your face. “That’s sweet of her.”

“We would get in trouble sometimes, which she hated,” he said. “Me and Steve, we once went to Rockaway Beach, and had to come back to Brooklyn on the back of a freezer truck.”

“Wait, why?”

He let out a chuckle. “Well, Steve spent our money on hot dogs, and I was trying to impress this girl, Dot.”

Your grin widened. “Ah?”

“So I spent 3 dollars trying to win a stuffed bear for her, which meant we had no money to go back, so we hitchhiked.”

You pulled out your phone.

“I need to check something, give me a second,” you said and quickly typed it into google, then gasped.

“3 dollars back then is— Bucky, you spent 70 dollars on a stuffed bear to impress a girl?” you exclaimed. “During Great Depression?”

“Mm hm.”

“Please tell me you did win the goddamn stuffed bear.”

“I did actually,” he said with a smirk. “And she was impressed, so money well spent.”

“So in your order of priorities,” you said, motioning with your hands, “impressing the girl was higher than going back to Brooklyn safe and sound? And comfortable?”

“Yeah, she was pretty.”

“And that’s enough reason?” You gawked at him. “She was pretty?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah. And she wanted the stuffed bear.”

You bit your lip to contain your smile and heaved a sigh, then leaned back to narrow your eyes at him playfully.

“I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“That it wasn’t just a rumor. You really were a charming ladies’ man back then.”

He let out a noise of disagreement. “That’s not exactly…”

“Bucky, you looked like this.” You gestured at his face. “And I saw you in that footage, with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos. Come on, you were popular with women, it’s very obvious.”

That boyish smile pulled at his lips again. “Someone had to make sure Steve got a date, and double dates were all the rage back then.”

“Oh I’m sure you did all that for him.” You played along with a pout. “Of course. Did you use to dance as well?”

“I did, actually. Steve hated it, I didn’t mind.”

You hummed, fixing the silky skirts of your dress as you crossed your legs and he eyed you up and down, then leaned in so that you could hear his teasing tone.

“Do you wanna dance?”

That made your head whip around and you gawked at him before you snorted a laugh.

“Yeah, let’s go dance in the ballroom full of people we work with, and the media,” you said. “After that PR disaster? Terrible idea.”

“I didn’t say it had to be in the ballroom,” he said and stood up to offer you his hand, awakening butterflies in your stomach.

“Bucky…”

“It’s a waste of music if a pretty dame like you isn’t dancing to it darlin’,” he said with that old Brooklyn accent, a laugh spilling from your mouth before you scrunched up your face in embarrassment, then took his hand, a fire spreading from your fingers to your whole body.

“God, no wonder why Dot was impressed,” you said as he pulled you closer and wrapped his vibranium arm around your waist, smiling down at you.

“Is that right?”

It felt like your heart was trying to climb out of your chest and a giggle bloomed in your throat as he twirled you, then pulled you closer again.

“So this is James Bucky Barnes,” you mused. “I like him. I’d probably work for him back in the 1940s if he decided to get in politics.”

“He didn’t have any plans for politics, trust me.”

“Yeah well, it wouldn’t stop me. I’d talk him into it.”

That managed to coax a laugh out of him, the rare sound making you smile wide.

“I’d make him hire me,” you said. “Through Dot, by the way. Convince the wife and get the husband situation.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah I don’t think he would up with Dot.”

“Because he’s a ladies’ man?”

“Because he is an idiot,” he said softly as you both swayed with music. “He messed things up with her.”

Your eyes snapped up to his and you gulped.

“Beyond saving?”

“Feels that way.”

You scrunched up your nose. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“Well, he backed himself into a corner,” he said, sadness etched on his handsome face. “Right person, wrong time.”

You could hardly hear him from the rush of blood in your ears, but you managed to shrug your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Maybe,” you said. “Or maybe it’s just another excuse for him to torture himself. I mean, time has to give him a break at some point, so they just need to find the corner their lines cross.”

A slow smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, but before he could say anything, you both heard the sound of heels on the marble floor and you pulled your hand from his, stepping out of his embrace even if your body urged you not to. You fixed your hair just so that you could keep your hands busy and Kelsey appeared at the corner, then pulled her brows together.

“Hi,” she said after a beat. “Bucky, Caleb was looking for you.”

Bucky nodded and turned to look at you. “Are you…?”

“I actually need to borrow her for a moment,” Kelsey said and you motioned at the ballroom.

“You go, I’ll be right there.”

Bucky walked past Kelsey to make his way into the ballroom and Kelsey approached you.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Long story,” you said. “I’ll tell you when we get home. Is everything okay in there?”

“I just saw Hazel leave,” she said. “Caleb thinks it’s an urgent business thing, she’s been here all week.”

“Does Bucky know?”

“That’s what Caleb wanted to ask him I think,” she said, linking her arm with yours. “Now come on. You can’t leave me alone with those assholes, and I think I’ve been flirting with a journalist so you need to tell me whether he’s hot or just tall.”

                                               *

Apparently, Hazel had left without letting Bucky know, so he had left as well to make sure she was alright, which meant you and Kelsey and Caleb could go home.

“We should’ve stolen a champagne bottle or something,” Caleb said while he laid on the floor on his back and you played with the corner of the pillow you were sitting on.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we go to a gala. So the journalist, Kels?”

“He is kinda cute,” Kelsey said. “Like a puppy.”

“But he’s a journalist,” Caleb said. “I mean, can he be trusted?”

“Caleb, this is yet another instance we have to remind you that we work in politics,” you said, motioning between you. “Journalists think the same about us.”

“You work in politics, I work in communications.”

“Communications in politics.”

“That’s a detail though—” he started but was cut off when his phone started buzzing.

“At this hour?” Kelsey asked as Caleb sat up and answered the phone while you leaned in to hear what it was about.

“Hello? Yes, this is he.” Caleb said and listened to the other line, his eyes widening.

“What?” you whispered and he motioned at you to be silent, standing up to pace in the room. He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a breath.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes didn’t bring me up to speed I’m afraid,” he said, his gaze snapping to you before he mouthed ‘What the fuck’ and nodded as if the other person could see him. “Yeah that sounds like a great idea. Do you have my email address? Okay, great, I’ll check it out right now and get back to you, and we can put it out. Thank you, have a nice evening.”

He hung up and whirled on his heels to look at you and Kelsey.

“What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?”

“That was Hazel’s PR team.” He held up his phone. “They want to check in with me to see if their statement is in line with ours.”

“What statement?”

“Their break up statement.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you gawked at him, disbelief crashing down on you while you reached to hold Kelsey’s arm.

“What?”

“I—what happened while you two were in that hallway?” Caleb asked you and you shook your head.

“We just danced,” you insisted while his eyes darted on the lines on his screen. “I swear. We were dancing and joking about his past—”

“Right before Kelsey found you?”

“Yeah!”

Caleb gritted his teeth and turned to Kelsey.

“And you found them right after Hazel left?”

A look of realization dawned on Kelsey’s face. “…Yeah.”

“No that’s not related,” you insisted, jumping on your feet. “I would’ve noticed if she saw us, or Bucky would—”

“A bunch of people were coming and going to the hallway next to it, he easily could’ve chalked it up to anyone else passing there.”

Your heart was pounding in your head as you covered your mouth.

“Good news is, there’s literally nothing about you on this statement,” Caleb murmured, his attention on his phone. “And her team said nothing about it either—shit, did we have her sign an NDA?”

“Knowing Bucky? I doubt it,” Kelsey said while Caleb touched his screen, then put the phone to his ear.

“Bucky,” he said, making your head whip up. “Hey. Yeah she’s fine. Yeah, I’m fine too. Uh…so friendly reminder, you’re supposed to tell me if you broke up with your girlfriend so that I can put out a statement before her team calls me. Because—” Caleb threw his hand in the air in exasperation. “Because that’s how it works. No, forget what I said about the Bachelor. Did you have her sign anything?” Caleb pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course you didn’t. Okay, I need you to tell me what happened in detail.”

You rushed to your room to change into a t-shirt and jeans as fast as you could, then stepped into the living room again.

“Are you going to Bucky’s place?” Kelsey whispered while Caleb kept pacing in the room, trying to convince Bucky that privacy didn’t exist in a situation like this, and you shook your head, making her frown.

“Then what—Birdie, no.” Her voice was stern as she realized what you were about to do. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“What hotel is she staying at, Kels?”

“You’re the last person she wants to see, you do realize that?”

“And I owe her an explanation, you know that,” you said. “There’s no way she is at Bucky’s place, so what hotel?”

Kelsey pulled out her phone with a sigh, then touched the screen for a minute before your phone vibrated.

“There, the location, and the room number,” she said. “Bucky went there the other day.”

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing your coat on your way to the door. “I’ll text you.”

With that, you slammed the door behind you and rushed outside, raising your hand for a taxi.

                                        *

You knew Hazel didn’t want to see you.

You couldn’t even blame her. You had a pretty clear idea how that dance would look to an outsider, much less to her.

But you knew you had to explain yourself, and apologize.

You cracked your knuckles nervously as the elevator door opened, the door at the end of the hallway greeting you. Letting out a breath, you rolled your shoulders back and forced yourself to approach the door, then raised your fist to knock on it and stepped back, clasping your hands to stop the shaking.

Hazel scoffed a laugh when she opened the door.

“Oh this is gonna be fun,” she said, her voice calm despite her red-rimmed eyes. “Finished your dance?”

You closed your eyes for a second before you opened them.

“Miss Brooks, I’m really sorry,” you started, making her raise her brows as if she was amused. “I know how it looks like, but I swear to you nothing happened. I was feeling bad, that’s why I left the ballroom, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, I assure you—”

“Oh, you guys aren’t sleeping together.” Hazel waved a hand in the air. “But there is something between you. You know it, I know it, and Bucky also knows it even if he likes to pretend otherwise. He knew it throughout the time he was trying to make himself fall in love with me.”

You pulled back slightly, straining your mind to find the right thing to say.

“Miss Brooks—”

“I’m not going to say anything to the press,” she said. “So if that’s why you’re here, you can go away.”

You shook your head. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To apologize.”

Hazel held your gaze in hers as if she was trying to find any sign of dishonesty, then let out a breath.

“Listen, I’m going to show you this courtesy only because I’m not proud of how I treated you back in that bathroom,” she said. “I was still pretty angry, but blaming you makes no sense. That’s not the type of person I am, or the type of person I want to be.”

You wrung your hands, staring at her.

“I mean I asked him to fire you,” she said after a beat. “Not my proudest moment.”

“I get it,” you rasped out and she took a deep breath.

“And I hope you understand what I’m about to say doesn’t come from a place of hostility,” she said. “But from woman to woman? Don’t do it.”

Your eyes snapped up to hers, your throat tightening.

“You know how it goes,” she said, her voice almost sad. “You’ve seen how quick the public was to forgive him for everything. His PR was good but no PR is that good, they want to love him. The guy is a superhero, he could walk away from politics today and it wouldn’t make any difference. They will still love him.”

You sniffled and wiped your nose, nodding your head.

“So you know what will happen,” she said. “This is one of the rare things that hasn’t changed since the 40s, no matter what anyone says. He will be their hero, and you will be the whore.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, tears blurring your vision.

“I need you to understand that,” she told you. “Doesn’t matter if I like you or not, I wouldn’t wish it upon any woman. They will fucking tear you apart, and trust me, not even the big bad Winter Soldier can protect you from that.”  

Don’t cry.

Do not cry.

“And he doesn’t even see it.” She scoffed a laugh. “But you do. You’re smart, something inside you has to be warning you against this. You know the moment he steps out with you, he will be throwing you to the wolves.”

Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and you nodded again, heaving a shaky sigh while she gave you an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” she said. “You’re going to need it.”

She closed the door and you balled your hands into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms to focus on anything other than the tears falling from your eyes. You slowly made your way to the elevator to step in, watching the doors close.

And then you started sobbing.

[dreamwritesimagines]

What would Birdies reaction be if she saw Bucky pull his arm out of the dishwasher?

Asfgjkl that would be hilarious 😂 She'd be watching him with wide eyes and go like,

"Uh, Bucky?"

"Hm?"

"Why was your arm in the dishwasher?"

"It got dirty. It's a pain to get out the stains from between the plates."

"...I have one thousand questions. Number one, how did you know it was waterproof?"

"Experience with water. And blood. And it's Wakandan tech, Shuri said it'd be fine."

"The princess of Wakanda said you could put your arm in dishwasher?"

"She said the arm is indestructible, so I figured dishwasher was fine."