idk-maybe-i-did-it
idk-maybe-i-did-it
it's just anne
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anne : bucky and peter fanatic : lover of angst and tension : panit feels good to be alive
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 1 day ago
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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."
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 3 days ago
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fun fact nobody asked for, PTSD sucks ass
I can’t chop radishes at work without seeing this guys rat-tail lookin pony tail (and him) bc of the stringies at the end of them. it’s been four years.
I’ll be writing more eventually (Bucky Barnes omgggggg) but smth reallly bad happened recently so I’m just trying to float for now.
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 4 days ago
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Alright, I’m callin’ it a night. Gotta be up early for work tomorrow—some of us still punch a clock, believe it or not.
It’s okay if you don’t have everything figured out. Life’s not a straight line, and most of us are just tryin’ to get through the day without fallin’ apart. That’s not failure—that’s being human.
You’re allowed to take your time. To rest. To feel lost sometimes. Doesn’t mean you’re not going somewhere. Doesn’t mean you’re not growing.
Get some sleep if you can. And if you can’t, just lay there and breathe. That counts too.
Goodnight.
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 6 days ago
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going on a date with bucky barnes and it all goes so nicely, so sweetly, so smoothly. you both had so much fun, chemistry and a good time. he's charming, witty and he keeps flirting and complimenting you at every chance he gets. he held your hand all night long, neither of you even noticed it, it just happened naturally, your cheeks hurt from how much you're smiling and both of your hearts are at ease.. that's until the date comes to an end, it's time to pay and you ask him if he wants to go 50/50.
that would be the first time he lets go of your hand that night, it's unintentional just happened out of pure shock. "50... what.." the confusion on his face, you'd think he's an alien seeing earth the first time.
"you know.. 50/50.. we'll split the bill between us"
"split the bill?" he asks and you just nod, he'd blink at you, "50/50.. splitting the bill.. what is this about, i asked you on a date"
now it's your turn to be the alien seeing earth for the first time, "we are on a date, bucky. this is a date"
"no, it's not a date."
"it is a date"
"you're asking me to split the bill, this is not a date"
"oh my god sam was right, you can be such a drama queen." you laugh, he just stares at you, blankly. "it might've been a while since the last time you went on a date so let me break it down for you.. these days, people who go on dates split the bill, they go 50/50" you shrug, "it's normal"
"it's normal? you've done it before?"
you nod, "every date i've been on has been 50/50 yeah"
bucky nearly flips the table. bucky who spent all of his three dollars in the 1940's trying to win a teddybear for a girl he had a crush on, bucky who used to save up most of his income in an old shoe box underneath his bed so he can take his girl to a nice diner, bucky who went to the florist to get you a bouquet of roses and didn't even ask for the price just handed his credit card because to him your smile is priceless, bucky is about to have a stroke.
"you've never been on a date" he says, face still blank.
"yes i have"
"no you haven't. this is your first date." he says, "i'm your first time." he smirks and you blush at the possible implication. "50/50.." he scoffs under his breath, "what else are you gonna tell me next? i should walk on the inside of the sidewalk? keep my jacket on when you're cold? sleep further from the door? not open doors for you? jesus sweetheart what has the world come to?"
you hide your smile, you love it when he rambles like that, he's so calm yet so offended all at once somehow, it's funny and endearing. "what's wrong with walking on the inside of the sidewalk?" you joke and he rolls his eyes making you laugh, "so.. no 50/50? are you sure?" you ask one last time, hands on your purse on your lap.
he keeps his eyes on you as he pays the bill, glaring playfully, gets up and pulls out your chair before putting his black leather jacket on your shoulders, "no doll," he offers you his hand which you quickly hold, intertwining your fingers with his, and opens the door with his metal hand, "no 50/50."
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 6 days ago
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Seeing all those posts that say "despite it all I remain kind" are so inspiring and I'm so proud of those people but I can't be them. At least not now. I just hope that one day I can be.
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 7 days ago
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PSA ABOUT CONSENT
CONSENT IS:
Given willingly
Given while fully conscious/sober
“Yes, that’s okay”
“I like that”
“Yeah, keep going”
CONSENT IS NOT
“I don’t know”
“I guess so”
“Not here”
“Please stop”
“Not now”
Being unconscious
Being in a relationship
Being drunk
Being pressured
Being coerced
If you haven’t EXPLICITLY asked to touch them in a certain place and they haven’t EXPLICITLY SAID YES without being pressured, you are NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH THEM THERE
“But it’s awkward!” No, it’s respect. Wake the fuck up.
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 7 days ago
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Tw mentions of SA
Real talk, I think a great comparison against the “you orgasmed/felt pleasure, that must mean it was good” is tickling.
Tickling will make you laugh and giggle, even when you have told someone to quit it. It’s something that almost everyone can relate to.
You can be giggling and laughing while your stomach is hurting. Maybe you’re angry with someone because they did something unforgivable, and they decided to tickle you til you’re out of breathe, that doesn’t mean you’re now happy with them and that they’re forgiven.
The point is, your body response does not match what your brain does. You didn’t want to shit yourself or vomit in elementary school when you were sick, but your body dispelled your waste anyway. No one likes having their body act on its own accord, but that’s just your body.
Your body’s response doesn’t mean you’re happy with it, nor did you want it.
The only one forcing your body to get diarrhea or puke is the bad food or the virus and bacteria that infected you.
In this case, the only thing causing your body to unwillingly laugh against your will or better judgment… is the person tickling you.
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 7 days ago
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don't listen to them i still think you're as pure as a dove
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 7 days ago
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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, mentions of sexual acts.
Word Count: 5.5k
Series Masterlist
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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.
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 8 days ago
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does anyone else follow @same-picture-of-benson-every-day because I do and you also should
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 9 days ago
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Follow if you want the same picture of Benson every day
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gay ptide 🏳️‍🌈
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 11 days ago
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Declassified [10] - Damage Control
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: Self-doubt can appear out of nowhere.
Warnings: Explicit language, yearning, mentions of sexual acts.
Word Count: 5.8k
Series Masterlist
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Contrary to popular belief, falling in love with one’s boss made life harder, not easier.
You kept seeing him at work, you lost your focus whenever you talked to him –or he walked by you, for that matter— and he was the main character of your dreams every night.
“Birdie, are you awake?”
Like now.
The daze of sleep disappeared, pulling you out of the pleasant dream and you let out a whine, burying your face into the pillow.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Caleb opened the door and stepped in, then sat by the edge of the bed. “Morning sunshine.”
You rolled onto your back, rubbing at your eyes before you dropped them. “I was dreaming about Bucky.”
“Like a sexy dream?”
You hummed. “It was basically a black and white movie.”
“Like a sexy black and white movie?”
“We were in a house,” you muttered. “It had a garden outside, I was wearing this vintage dress, and baking a pie—”
“So, not a sexy dream.”
“I don’t even know how to bake a pie.” You yawned, looking up at the ceiling with a frown. “And then he walked into the kitchen and kissed me, and asked where the kids were—actually, you know what? Now that I think about it; I feel like it was an episode of I Love Lucy.”
“Your subconscious is really not original.”
“I think I was wearing pearls or something,” you mused, making Caleb tilt his head.
“So you mixed a bunch of vintage movies together and decided that was the way to go?”
“To repeat, I don’t know how to bake a pie,” you insisted. “Obviously I didn’t dec—”
“Did you tell her yet?” Kelsey leaned on the doorframe with a cup of coffee in her hand and you looked between her and Caleb.
“Tell me what?”
Caleb paused for a moment, then cleared his throat.
“Okay, first of all,” he said. “As Bucky’s communications director, I assure you that we can easily spin this.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach and you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, your breathing getting faster.
“Spin what?”
“In fact, I’m confident that if we focus on offense, we won’t even have to go that hard into defense—”
“Caleb,” you cut him off. “Spin what?”
He heaved a sigh, then pulled out his phone, touched the screen and turned it to you.
Shit.
Oh shit.
It was a blurry picture of you and Bucky in that pub last night, in one of those gossip accounts.
“Okay, before you panic,” Caleb said while you stared at the phone with wide eyes, trying to find your breath. “The fact that he has a girlfriend plays right into our hand, I’ve already planned the—nope, don’t check the comments.” He snatched the phone out of your hand. “Birdie, listen to me.”
“…I’ll have to resign.”
“Literally what the fuck did I just say about panicking?” Caleb asked while Kelsey stifled a laugh.
“Caleb already came up with a plan and sent it everywhere. We’re working on it.”
 You blinked back the tears, wiping at your eyes. “Um…”
“And for the first time, you should be glad that Bucky is dating Hazel,” Caleb said. “I just talked to Bucky, and apparently Hazel already called him because she saw this as well, and decided to visit Bucky sometime this week because she missed him, and so that they can join that gala thing together.”
“And she wants to make sure she still has him,” Kelsey muttered and took a sip of her coffee and you shook your head.
“No no, guys you don’t understand—”
“I think I understand it better than you,” Caleb said. “It was a good call to put that file on the table.”
You frowned, trying to focus. “What?”
Caleb zoomed in the picture. “There’s a file. On the table.”
“I took it to my parents’ place just in case I could work on—”
“Nope,” Caleb said. “You were trying to work on two bills at the same time, you were feeling very overwhelmed because a lot of people want you on their team and this is literally your first month in the Congress, so Bucky, being a very attentive boss, had to insist on taking you out so that you could work on it outside the office. As the file on the table suggests. There is no kiss, you don’t even hold hands, there is literally no foundation to those accusations other than some blurry picture of two people who have made waves in politics enough to intimidate people. And now drumroll please, for the offense.”
“Caleb—”
“This is a terrible smear campaign not only on Congressman Barnes, who by the way, is in a committed relationship with Miss Brooks, but also on Mr. Drexel—”
“My father would never agree to get dragged into this.”
“Tough shit, I am dragging him into this to save you,” Caleb said. “But also on Mr. Drexel, who has served this country as a consultant for decades working with multiple cabinets. It’s at best tabloid gossip, at worst a planned attack that is designed to use the first woman the tabloids saw around Mr. Barnes, who has maintained a professional relationship with him throughout his campaign and is deeply disturbed by these rumors. Too long didn’t read; the only crime these two have is that they’re both fucking hot, there’s a file on the table, bitch are you blind?”
 “He’s good, isn’t he?” Kelsey asked with a grin while Caleb took a bow like an actor on stage while you gawked at him.
“And people will believe that?”
“Not all of them obviously, but most will believe that as long as he’s dating Hazel, and there’s no picture of a kiss between you and him,” Caleb said. “The moment a picture like that comes out, we are gonna be fucked.”
You shook your head fervently. “There’s no picture like that because me and Bucky have never kissed.”
“When you do, please do it inside until I figure out how to work that angle.”
“Caleb,” you said warningly and he shrugged his shoulders.
“Come on, it will happen one day,” he said. “And hopefully by then, I’ll have found an idea how to use it in our benefit.”
“Can we focus on this?” you asked, motioning at the phone and Caleb shrugged.
“What’s there to focus? I already put out the statement, by now everyone in the Congress and their mothers read it.”
“You did all that in…?”
“An hour.”
“Jesus, you are good.” You took a look at your phone to check whether your father had called you or texted you, but he hadn’t.
“This is weird,” you muttered and ran a hand over your face. “Are you sure that will work?”
“Like I said. As long as there’s no picture of a kiss or anything to suggest that you two are fucking, we can spin it and even work it for our benefit.”
You took a shaky breath, then slipped a little in the bed, panic still pounding in your chest.
“I need to see Bucky—”
“You’re not going to see Bucky on a Sunday, the day after the rumor mill started,” Kelsey said. “No way. And if he’s smart, he will be on his way to New York right now to bring Hazel here on Monday so maybe it’s not the best idea to call him either. Or text him. Or do anything that might make Hazel think these rumors are true in case she’s with him.”
Jealousy twisted your gut and you bit inside your cheek, then nodded.
“Yeah,” you said. “That makes sense I guess.”
“Great.” Caleb slapped his knees and got up. “Now, get dressed.”
“Why?”
“We found a great brunch spot,” Kelsey said while Caleb reached out to grab Blinky from your nightstand. “We’re going there.”
“I don’t think it’s the best idea for me to—”
“You’re not going into hiding because there’s nothing to hide,” Caleb said and put Blinky in your lap. “Well, I doubt we’re telling his girlfriend he changed cities just to get you your childhood plushie back so we’re hiding that, but you know. Other than that.”
You pursed your lips, playing with Blinky’s tail.
“Come on Birdie,” Kelsey said. “I’m giving you half an hour, then we’re going to brunch. I’m fucking starving!”
She and Caleb left your room and closed the door behind them, and you let out a breath, then looked down at Blinky.
“Well,” you said. “We’re in so much trouble.”
                                         *
Your whole Sunday was spent with convincing multiple people that there was nothing going on between you and Bucky. Perhaps the strangest part was that instead of calling you, your father had your mother call you and ask whether there was any truth to these rumors, and you had to swear on your grandmother’s grave.
Knowing that you were on speaker.
Well, whatever it was, it had worked. You didn’t think your father was very happy about this but at least for now, it looked like his approach was to watch it and analyze before interfering.
You had answered Bucky’s “Are we okay?” text with a curt “Tomorrow” and much to your surprise, he hadn’t insisted and instead let you spend your Sunday without also worrying about that part of the story.
Although, you had a feeling that Sarah had something to do with it.
And now that it was Monday morning and you were walking past the security, anxiety was heavy enough to tremble your hands as you held up your ID pass, then entered the hallway.
Okay.
It was going to be fine.
“Hey, Hurricane!”
I want to go back home.
You looked over your shoulder and tried to smile at Lucas. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he said with a grin. “I would ask you how your weekend was, but I have a pretty good idea.”
You ran a hand over your face. “Trust me, you have no idea.”
He gave you an apologetic look as you both turned the corner. “How are you holding up?”
Well, this was a good sign.
“Uh…” you trailed off. “Quite shaken, to be honest.”
“Don’t be,” he said. “I’ve been alone with Gray more times than I could count, and no one blinked twice. It’s just because of Barnes and his whole thing, not you.”
You frowned, ready to jump to Bucky’s defense. “His whole thing?”
“Yeah, the whole tall dark handsome guy with tortured but mysterious past?”
“I’ll make sure to let him know you find him handsome.” You grinned. “And his past is not exactly mysterious, HYDRA files are out there.”
“You know what I mean.”
You snorted a laugh. “Yeah, I guess,” you muttered. “Obviously there’s nothing there but I’m not sure people—”
“Don’t worry about it, no one here bought that shit.”
I will buy Caleb a month’s worth of coffee and also name my firstborn after him.
You raised your brows and stopped walking to look at him better. “No one?”
“No one with a brain,” he corrected himself, making you smile. “Come on. You’re pretty, he has a certain charm, people will talk. No matter how good you are at your job.”
You tilted your head, your smile growing bigger.
“Thanks,” you said. “I appreciate it.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Bucky entering the hallway as well, talking to a congressman but he stopped dead in his tracks, then turned to the congressman, pretending to listen to him with a frown even though you knew very well that he was watching you. Your heartbeat got faster and you took a deep breath, trying to focus on Lucas who ran a hand through his hair.
“Don’t mention it,” he said. “And it would be stupid, you know? Like as far as I’ve seen, you’re too smart for that.”
You forced a laugh. “Way too smart.”
“Not to mention, you probably have uh—have a boyfriend right?”
Bucky’s whole body stiffened, but the only clue any observer would have noticed was the way his jaw clenched.
Which, you were pretty sure that no one noticed but you.
“I actually just got out of a very long relationship,” you said, stealing a look at Bucky before smiling at Lucas. “Hey, you know what? I just remembered it was my turn to get coffee today and Kelsey needs her coffee so I need to get to the cafeteria. See you around?”
“Uh, sure!” he said as you started walking. “Hey, we still need to do the—”
“The report, working on it!” you called out and turned the corner, then let out a breath and leaned back to the wall.
Alright.
This was ridiculous.
It was a stupid rumor, and no matter how much you wanted Bucky, he still had a girlfriend.
A girlfriend who was coming by sometime this week.
You shut your eyes, willing yourself to calm down before you wiped the sweat off your forehead, then started making your way to the cafeteria. You went down the stairs and turned a corner but as soon as you did, someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into the nearest room, covering your mouth to cut off your scream.
It was only when the door closed shut that you realized who it was.
“What the fuck?” you whispered, panic still pounding in your head. “Bucky, I swear to God if someone saw—”
“That corner is a blind spot.”
You blinked a couple of times. “What?”
“The cameras don’t see that corner and here, so no one will know.”
You took a look at the supply closet you were in, trying to pull your thoughts together before you looked up at his stupidly handsome face.
“And why—why are we in a supply closet?”
“Did I or did I not say he wanted you?” he asked, pointing at the door that led outside and you raised your brows.
“Huh?”
“That guy. Lucas.”
“I feel like we have more important things to talk about rather than someone asking me out.”
“So you do accept he was asking you out?”
“We’re just going to ignore the elephant in the supply closet then? Alright, great.”
“Birdie, he was trying to find out if you had a boyfriend because he—”
“How was your weekend?” you cut him off. “Mine was a fucking disaster, thank you for asking.”
A look of guilt flashed across his face, his eyes darting over your face.
“…Sorry.”
You scoffed a breath from your nose, crossing your arms over your chest.
“How was it, really?” Bucky asked and you rolled your eyes.
“Bad,” you said. “Even my mom called, and I’m pretty sure my father was listening to every word I said. And you?”
“I was going to come and see you—”
“Terrible idea.”
“And then I texted you and you said tomorrow.”
You offered him a small smile. “Ah, thank you for listening to me.”
“Well to be honest, I was going to come anyway.”
“Of course.”
“I was losing my mind,” he insisted. “But uh, Sarah said I should give you your space, and she’s usually right about everything, so…”
Called it.
“And Hazel?”
He paused for a moment.
“She’s coming today, actually,” he said. “And she’ll stay until that gala nonsense.”
You tried to ignore the bitter taste at the back of your throat and nodded your head.
“That’s good. And like, in terms of optics—”
“Birdie, are we okay?” he cut you off as if he couldn’t keep it in anymore and you licked your lips.
“Depends,” you said. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t care about rumors, you know that.”
“You can’t say it didn’t bother you.”
“I honestly don’t give a—I don’t care.” He stopped himself from cursing and you bit back a smile.
“Nobody would blame you if you did,” you said. “If Caleb didn’t spin it, it could’ve affected your votes, the campaign next term, not to mention your work in here.”
“I don’t care,” he insisted. “I just…”
You watched his throat bob as he swallowed thickly like he was nervous all of a sudden, like he couldn’t get the words out. This wasn’t the first time you were seeing this, whenever Bucky needed to talk about his feelings he either faltered or shut down, but every single time he got that kicked puppy look on his face; brows pinched together, lips turned downwards in the most kissable way, his eyes cast down and his gaze turning distant.
It took everything in you not to pull him to yourself and kiss him just to make sure he would never look that sad or lost again.
“I need you to be okay,” he ended up saying quietly, still looking at the floor instead of your face. “For—” He gestured between you. “For us to be okay.”
Oh you had to get out of here before you started taking your clothes off.
Or got on your knees.
Or got on your knees while taking your clothes off.
“We’re okay,” you managed to breathe out, forcing yourself to focus. “We’re totally okay if you’re okay.”
He gave you a curt nod, biting inside his cheek. “I’m okay.”
“Good,” you said and repressed a smile. “And he wasn’t asking me out.”
That managed to pull him out of that shell he was retrieving into, making his head snap up.
“He was!” he said while you let out a laugh and opened the door to step outside with him following you. “No, Birdie I’m telling you—”
“He was just curious I’m sure,” you said, still grinning and he let out a groan, awakening those butterflies in your stomach again.
“He was fishing for information.”
You made a face. “Was he though?”
“Yes because he—where are we going?”
“We’re going to get coffee,” you said as you made your way to the cafeteria. “I feel like I’m going to need a lot of it today.”
                                      *
The rest of the day was relatively better. Apparently, Caleb’s approach to that whole scandal had worked on most people but he had warned you that you had to be careful in the following day not to do anything to fuel any more of that fire.
Which was fine.
It wasn’t like Bucky was asking you out to go to pubs anyway.
“Kels?” you asked without looking up from your computer. “Can you send me the report we had on the uh— on the I think the first week of last month, with the mental health resources for veterans?”
Kelsey tilted her head. “Weren’t you working on the clean energy bill with Mr. Rebound?”
You lifted your head to stare at her. “Mr. what now?”
“Mr. Rebound,” Kelsey said. “Because, you know, you need to get out there but he’s obviously not gonna be the one who get into a relationship with. He’s just a guy you sleep with a couple of times and then find someone else.”
You stole a look at Bucky’s closed door, then turned to her and grabbed the small fox figure on your desk.
“Okay, many things wrong with that theory,” you said, turning it in your hands. “First of all, I literally just got out of a relationship.”
“Yeah I know. Five Minutes Comma Max.”
“Well it—okay, that one is good,” you said with a huff of laughter. “Anyways, even if I were looking for a rebound, it wouldn’t be someone from work. I literally work with the guy.”
A smirk curled Kelsey’s lips and she jerked her head in the direction of Bucky’s office, and you pointed at her with the figure.
“Kelsey.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s true love,” she said, clutching at her chest dramatically and you rolled your eyes.
“It’s just different.”
Kelsey looked around the office, then pushed her chair back to come sit on your desk.
“Well you can keep yourself busy while…” she trailed off and stole a look at Bucky’s closed door before turning to you. “You know.”
You shook your head while she crossed her legs, leaning forward so that you could hear her murmur.
“Did I tell you she’s coming here for lunch?”
“Hazel?” you whispered and she nodded.
“Mm hm.”
Damn it.
Bucky had told you Hazel was coming today, but you had just assumed she was coming to the city and not the goddamn building you were in. You checked the time to see it was near lunch, and huffed out a breath.
“I cannot be here when she drops by,” you said. “She already wanted me fired before, and I don’t want to push my luck.”
“Bucky would never fire you.”
“I’m still not risking it,” you said. “I’ll just go to the bathroom and be right back, and then we can go to lunch? There’s no way we’ll be having lunch at the same place anyway.”
“You do realize you’ll have to see her at the gala?”
“That’s a problem for the future me, be right back,” you said and walked out of the office to go into the bathroom at the end of the hall.
While you were washing your hands, you were also trying to come up with excuses to skip the gala but none seemed convincing enough. It was going to be an important event so Bucky was going to want you there even if Hazel didn’t.
Maybe it would be crowded enough that you could avoid both of them for the whole night.
You finished washing your hands and went to the hand dryer but as soon as you took a step, the bathroom door opened, making you turn your head out of habit.
Fuck.
Oh fuck, oh fuck…
Hazel seemed as surprised to see you as you were to see her, and you offered her a small smile just because you didn’t know what the fuck you were supposed to do, then turned your attention to the hand dryer.
Okay.
You just had to walk out.
You had already smiled and acknowledged her presence, which was probably more interaction than she wanted from you, so you just had to walk out of the bathroom, go to the cafeteria and text Kelsey. You pulled your hands back from the dryer while Hazel refreshed her lipstick, her eyes on the mirror even though you knew she was paying attention to your every single movement.
Anne Boleyn worked for Catherine of Aragon for years, you can handle just walking out of the bathroom while Hazel is here.
Keep walking.
Just walking to the door, not saying anything—
But of course you had to turn around the moment you gripped the door handle: “Miss Brooks?”
Fuck.
She raised her brows as if she was taken aback by your audacity –which to be honest, you were as well— but she didn’t say anything, just looked at you in complete silence, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. You could already feel the stomachache you were going to get from anxiety, but you took a deep breath and cleared your throat.
“Um, I just wanted to say—” you stammered. “I’m guessing you saw that gossip piece, and I know of course you didn’t believe it because it’s completely false, but I wanted to apologize anyway, if it…um, if I somehow crossed the line.”
The silence was not making things easy so of course your brain took it as a demand to fill it immediately.
“Because like, I can assure you everything between Mr. Barnes and I, it’s completely professional. I would never—I mean obviously also he would never—we— not that I’m referring to him and I as a unit or anything, what that piece suggested is just lies and—”
“I know it’s just lies.”
Her voice was completely calm, similar to the approach Bucky had adapted while you were freaking out at his doorstep, but unlike his, Hazel’s tone also held a condescending tinge in it. You gulped to ease the tightening in your throat, then nodded your head with a forced smile.
“Oh.”
“Obviously nothing is going on between you two.”
You shook your head fervently. “Oh, of course—”
“But it’s not from a lack of trying on your part.”
That managed to shut you up, your eyes snapping up to hers. She hadn’t even said it in a hostile way, it was phrased in such a matter-of-fact way that for a couple of seconds you just gawked at her, then managed to pull yourself together.
“Miss Brooks, I can assure you I would never do that.”
Hazel smiled at you as if she was entertained by your pitiful attempt to lie to her and you cleared your throat.
“Our relationship is completely professional—”
“If you’re gonna recite me some PR bullshit, you should just email that to my assistant,” she pointed out. “Listen, I’m not here to start a catfight, and I’m certainly not going to fight over a man, both of those are beneath me. Or any other woman. I’m not even trying to insult you, I’m just telling you that I know.”
You pursed your lips just so that you could stop the words threatening to spill from them.
“I get it,” she said and gestured at you. “You’re the pretty, starry-eyed girl and he’s…well, him. So to be honest, it would be surprising if this whole schoolgirl crush didn’t take place. Obviously it will.”
You gritted your teeth, barely noticing that you were wringing your hands to keep your calm.
“You are important to Bucky,” she said. “You’re good at what you do, and despite this whole thing, apparently you’re somehow smart…”
Fuck. You.
“But the fact that your relationship is professional is not because you’re keeping it professional,” she said. “It’s because he’s determined to ignore those cute lovesick smiles you keep throwing his way.”
Nope.
You were not going to take this bait, and you were certainly not going to react to this in any way.
“So you don’t need to worry about me,” she said with a small smile. “I don’t see you as any threat to my relationship.”
You tried to swallow the bitterness of anger at the back of your throat, and as much as you wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, what left your lips was very different.
“Have a nice day, Miss Brooks.”
With that, you pulled the door open and walked out of the bathroom, still shaking with fury.
                                            *
“I applaud your self-control because I would’ve gone full on high school bathroom fight on her, I don’t care how much money her family has.”
You rolled your eyes as you laid on the floor and Caleb filled Kelsey’s glass with wine.
“I mean,” he said, “it sounds like she kind of called you a whore.”
“A dumb whore,” Kelsey added and you pointed at her.
“Exactly!” you said. “Whore I could understand, but dumb? That’s just rude as hell.”
“Maybe you should’ve told her to ask her man why he’s throwing a fit every time Lucas so much as breathes within the perimeter,” Kelsey said with a smirk and you scoffed.
“He’s not throwing a fit.”
“Sorry, what do we call breaking a goddamn chair when Lucas asked you out?”
“And to repeat, I was in that chair.” Caleb wagged his finger in the air. “It could’ve been my fucking neck. I basically survived the Winter Soldier.”
“Oh and pulling you into a supply closet?” Kelsey asked, motioning at you and you heaved a sigh, then pulled yourself up into a sitting position, making a face when your back cracked.
“We really do need a couch.”
“What’s wrong with our pillows?” Caleb gestured at the pillows and you shook your head.
“We look like interns at a startup tech company that has an open buffet of cereals.”
“Great, now I’m craving cereal,” Caleb muttered and looked between you and Kelsey. “Do you guys think anyone tried cereal with wine?”
“Nope.”
“Let’s try it,” he said and walked to the kitchen while you let out a whine, pressing your hands on your eyes.
“Kels…”
“Listen, she does see you as a threat,” Kelsey said. “That’s why she gave you that condescending talk, but it doesn’t matter. That relationship won’t last, you know that, I know that, Sarah knows that, and most importantly, Hazel knows that.”
“I don’t know that actually.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Max was your first serious boyfriend and all, but even you can’t be that out of the loop when it comes to relationships.”
“And yet.” You took a sip of your wine. “Guess who he’s probably fucking right now?”
“Aw, guess who he’s probably imagining while he’s fucking her right now?”
“Bucky isn’t like that,” you said. “And I doubt anyone would imagine anyone else when they have Hazel in their bed. Have you seen that woman? She’s gorgeous.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Kelsey sang and you rubbed your eyes.
“Kels, I can’t…” you trailed off. “Listen, what if she has a point? I—I have feelings for him but what if he sees me as some dumb girl with a crush that he entertains just because of my job?”
“You can’t let her get to you, and that’s not how he sees you.”
“But we don’t know that, do we? If he had any feelings for me, he would break up with Hazel.”
“Just like how you broke up with Max?” she asked, making you frown. “Because we both know your feelings for him started way before your break up and to repeat, Bucky is from a different century. He’s not gonna make a move on you while he’s in a relationship, but he’s trying to find a way to get out of that relationship without that breakup hurting Hazel’s…reputation.”
You scoffed. “Her reputation?”
“People couldn’t just drop relationships back in the 40s, Birdie.”
“Well, it’s not the—”
“Did you guys decide what you’re going to wear to that gala?” Caleb asked, coming back with a bowl of dry cereal and three spoons in his hand. “I mean we’ll be working and all, but we can’t just go with our usual clothes. And I don’t have a suit.”
“I’ll help you out, Cinderella.”
Caleb sat down. “You’re an angel, Kels.”
“I have a bunch of clothes from the time Max would drag me to events,” you said. “Kels, you can borrow one of mine if you’d like.”
“Oh I’d like that very much.”
“I mean they’re not exactly gowns but they should—” you started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating, making all three of you look at the caller ID, your heart doing a happy flip in your chest before you frowned at yourself.
“Well, what do you know?” Kelsey said and took a sip of her wine. “I guess he wasn’t fucking her after all.”
“Why does Bucky hate texting?” Caleb mused and Kelsey shrugged her shoulders.
“Probably because it reminds him of telegraphs from the front or something—”
“I’ll be back,” you said as you snatched the phone and stood up while Caleb reached for the wine bottle.
“Are we doing this or not?”
“Caleb, that sounds disgusting…” Kelsey whined and you walked to your room, then closed the door behind you and answered the call, your heart beating in your ears.
 “Hey.”
“Hi.” Bucky’s voice reached your ear, filling your stomach with butterflies. “Everything alright?”
You needed to pull your shit together.
Contrary to what Kelsey and Caleb told you, Hazel did have a point. You were acting like a starry-eyed idiot with a schoolgirl crush, and you couldn’t let Bucky think that about you, not when you had been trying so hard to prove yourself.
You swallowed nervously. “Yeah. Why?”
“You uh—” He paused. “You usually see me before you leave work?”
 You pursed your lips, sitting down on your bed to grab Blinky. Of course it hadn’t escaped his notice, with or without Hazel you always made sure to see him before you left work, ever since you had started working together.
However, you had a feeling that did not help the starry-eyed thing.
“Birdie?”
Your head snapped up and you closed your eyes, then took a deep breath and opened them again.
“I was busy with the clean energy thing,” you said. “Sorry about that.”
“No I didn’t ask for you to apologize,” he said quickly. “I just wanted to make sure.”
You ran a hand over your face, then looked down at Blinky, biting inside your cheek.
“Um,” you said. “Did you need me for something?”
You could almost see the frown on his face as he paused on the other line for a second.
“Alright, what’s going on?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
You wiped your eyes, then heaved a sigh. “Nothing is wrong.”
“Did someone say something?”
Oh yeah, funny you should ask. Your girlfriend.
You opened your mouth to say no, but turned your head when Caleb’s voice carried into the room.
“Birdie you need to come here, I think I discovered a new type of food!”
You scrunched up your face, playing with Blinky’s tail.
“I should go,” you rasped out and he let out a shaky breath.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I told you. Nothing is wrong.”
“No, something is wrong and I’m gonna—” He paused and you could almost see him pacing restlessly, running his hands through his hair like he always did whenever he was stressed. “I need to fix whatever is making you sad.”
“That’s not your responsibility.”
“Yes it is.”
“Why?” Your voice came out harsher than you intended and he fell quiet for a moment. You pursed your lips, then scoffed.
“See? Exactly.”
“Birdie, you…” he trailed off and let out a breath. “You know why.”
You didn’t trust your voice so you just stayed silent, turning Blinky’s tail around your finger.
“Come on,” he insisted in a soft whisper. “You have to know why.”
You dragged your tongue over your teeth, trying to keep yourself calm but the words had already left your lips before you could control yourself.
“How’s Hazel?”
Silence fell upon him and you clicked your tongue, nodding to yourself.
“Good night Bucky,” you said and hung up, then let yourself fall back to the bed, your eyes still burning with tears. You sniffled, holding Blinky to your chest and kicked at the covers at the foot of the bed just so that you could get some of the frustration out of your system.
If Bucky wanted to be with her, fine.
But you weren’t going to let anyone see you as an idiot.
“Birdie!”
“Coming!” you called out and wiped your eyes, then got up from the bed and put Blinky on the pillow, then made your way to the living room to find Caleb holding up the cereal bowl which seemed to be filled with wine, grinning at you.
“I’m a genius.”
“And I’m in the mood to get drunk,” you said as you sat down next to Kelsey. “Wine cereal it is.”
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 19 days ago
Text
Declassified [8] - Diplomacy
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: The first day of work can be stressful.
Warnings: Explicit language, yearning.
Word Count: 4381
Series Masterlist
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Well.
This was exactly what the first day of school used to feel like.
You couldn’t stop the sigh leaving your lips as you stared up at the Capitol Building, trying to ignore the anxiety churning your stomach. You knew you were supposed to go in, but somehow your legs refused to listen to you, so you exhaled slowly the way your therapist had taught you to get at least some sort of—
“It’s not too late to change your mind.”
You jumped out of your skin, then pressed a hand over your chest and glared at Bucky.
“What did I say about sneaking up on people?”
“In my defense, you looked pretty out of it already.” He shrugged his shoulders. “And as I said; not too late to change your mind. We can still leave.”
“Right,” you said with a laugh. “So we just forget about the Congress and everything and go away?”
He grinned. “Mm hm.”
“Where?”
“Brooklyn.”
You tilted your head. “Except that Brooklyn elected you as their representative, I feel like they’d ask what the hell you’re doing there.”
“You make a good point,” he said and thought for a moment. “Okay, new plan.”
“I’m listening.”
“We get new names and identities, move to a small town where no one knows us, and grow old and gray there in peace. We never check the news, ever.”
Your heart skipped a beat but you tried to focus. “Do we have to change Alpine’s name too?”
“I don’t think she’d let us,” he said, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “She missed you, by the way.”
This was not flirting.
This was just friendly. That was it. Two friends talking.
About running away together.
“I missed her too,” you said. “How does she like your new place?”
“She doesn’t,” he murmured before turning to glance at the building. “We’re gonna be fine.”
“Are you talking to me or yourself?”
“Yes.”
You repressed a laugh and bumped your shoulder against his.
“Come on,” you said as you started walking with him next to you. “Today is your day, and you’re gonna be very busy.”
“Yeah, the schedule was pages long,” he said. “I have meetings with people I don’t even know about.”
“Think of it like your debutante ball,” you told him. “They all want to see if you’re the right fit for them, how much dowry you have, and if they can bed you.”
“Please talk to me about something else.”
“Okay. “You shrugged your shoulders. “Onto some heartwarming news; I told Max to go fuck himself last night.”
Bucky frowned. “Hold on, he’s still calling you?”
“I called him,” you said. “He got the apartment after I prepared my boxes and stuff, and I paid the movers extra so that they would move everything without me being there, but apparently Max went through my boxes even if he refuses to admit it, because Blinky is not in any of them.”
“Who’s Blinky?” He paused for a moment. “Or what is Blinky?”
“Blinky is my childhood plushie,” you said. “It’s a fox plushie with one eye, the other eye fell off on the first day, that’s why I named him that. I took him everywhere I moved, and guess what? Max refuses to give him back.”
“Well, that’s interesting information.”
“I know, right?” you asked as you both walked into the building and held up your IDs to go through the security even if Bucky didn’t need to do that. “He claims he hasn’t seen him, but I’m so sure he hides him somewhere in the apartment.”
“You have a toy?”
“It’s a plushie.”
“It’s a toy.”
“It’s a plushie—you know what, I’m not going to stand in the Capitol hallway to argue semantics about my nostalgic childhood plushie with you,” you said while Bucky grinned at you. “You have one thousand things to do and so do I, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”
That wiped his grin off his face. “Wait, tomorrow? You’re not gonna be around?”
“I’ll be gone all day.”
His eyes widened and he shook his head.
“Birdie, no—”
“I have the orientation, I’ll have to meet everyone and stuff, and apparently there’s this tour… It’ll be chaotic. Kels will be with you though, and Caleb as well.”
“But it wouldn’t take you all day,” Bucky tried to convince you as if you were the one who planned the schedule. “What are they going to do, make you tour the place twice? Just tell them you have stuff to do.”
“This is my stuff to do.”
“So you’re leaving me alone with these people?”
You tried not to laugh at the look of betrayal on his face.
“These people are going to be your colleagues,” you reminded him. “So you need to make friends with them. You don’t need me for that.”
“I do need you for that, actually,” he argued. “I don’t…I don’t make friends.”
“Fine, don’t make friends with them, just be civil. You charmed half of Brooklyn, remember?”
“Because you were there.”
“You’ve been through literally the hardest things anyone can go through—”
“To repeat, none of those things required making friends. Or socializing for that matter.”
“You’ll be fine, and I’ll drop by the office if I can,” you assured him. “But remember. Diplomacy. That’s the currency here.”
Bucky took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah.”
You took a step to leave, then turned around again to look at him.
“I feel like this goes without saying when it comes to diplomacy, but do not glare at or threaten anyone.”   
Bucky stared at you as if you had just asked him whether Alpine could fly and you pursed your lips, then rolled your shoulders back.
“It’s gonna go great,” you muttered to yourself as you started walking again. “Diplomacy, here we come.”
                                      *
Okay, you expected today to be chaotic, but you did not know it would be this chaotic.
It felt like for the whole day you had been running to one place or the other, and by the time you had found some time to yourself, it was way past lunch time. You had about half an hour until the next item on the schedule so you figured you could drop by Bucky’s office to talk to Kelsey and Caleb and see how Bucky was doing so far.
When you entered the office, most of the team was busy with either their phones or laptops, but Caleb and Kelsey were watching Bucky’s closed door, having a discussion in whispers. You tilted your head, then made your way to them.
 “Is everything okay?”
“What are you doing here?” Caleb asked. “My orientation lasted all day.”
“Mine will too, I just got a break—what is happening?”
Kelsey licked her lips. “Guess who asked for a last minute meeting with Bucky.”
“Who?”
“Amos Drexel.”
Your stomach dropped and you gawked at her. “Sorry?”
“I think you guys are the only people who know this person.”
 “I’ve been memorizing everyone’s faces and names and titles since the election night,” she said. “And trust me, people know who he is. People in high places, if you know what I mean.”
“Kels, he’s just a consultant.”
Kelsey scoffed. “He’s not just a consultant, Caleb.”
“A lobbyist.”
“Lobbyists come and go, this guy has been bribing and extorting the politicians for like, decades. He has half of them in his pocket.”
“I feel like I would’ve heard about him,” Caleb said and Kelsey shook her head.
“He’s too smart for that,” she said. “It’s easier for him if the public thinks he’s just a consultant. But trust me, every single politician here knows about him.”
“What is he doing here?” you asked, your heartbeat getting faster as you stole a look at the closed door. “I checked Bucky’s schedule this morning, he wasn’t there.”
“As I said, last minute meeting,” Kelsey said. “What was I supposed to do when Drexel wanted to see him, ask him to reschedule? I squeezed him in.”
“If he tries to bribe Bucky, I feel like he might kill him.”
“Obviously but that’s not the point,” Kelsey said while you grabbed her penholder so that you could do something with your hands. “The point is, if Drexel is here, it means he wants to—”
You dropped the penholder as soon as the door opened, and you ducked under the desk to gather the pencils as he passed by the desk.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barnes.” You heard him say as he walked out of the door and you put all the pens into the holder, then got up from under the desk, letting out a breath.
Bucky looked absolutely furious as he glared in the direction he had disappeared into before his eyes found yours, his gaze softening in a second. You gave him a tightlipped smile and put the holder on the desk—
And the rest of the room turned to the door again.
“Almost forgot.” His voice reached your ears, making your whole body tense up. “Honey? Your mom wants to know if you’re free for dinner next weekend.”
Oh.
Oh he had planned this.
Of course he did. He knew every schedule in this goddamn place, and he knew the moment you had a break, you’d come straight to Bucky’s office.
You forced yourself to ignore the whole team and Bucky staring at you, your cheeks burning in humiliation as you turned around to glare at your father who was standing by the door with a calm smile on his face.
“Make sure to text her please,” he told you. “Have a great first day.”
Then he walked away, leaving the whole office in a stunned silence.
You could feel the tears of frustration burning the back of your eyes but this was neither the time nor the place. You blinked a couple of times, clenching your jaw and then made a beeline into Bucky’s office with Caleb and Kelsey rushing after you. Kelsey closed the door behind her and you licked your lips, taking a deep breath.
“I can explain that—”
“He’s your father?” Caleb asked and you cleared your throat.
“Well…”
“Why is your surname different?”
“How is he your father?” Caleb and Kelsey asked at the same time and you cleared your throat.
“I’ve been asking the same question to my mother for ages now.” You tried to joke as you stole a look at Bucky who was just watching you with an unreadable look on his face.
“Your father is Amos Drexel and you still have roommates?” Kelsey asked, motioning at herself and Caleb, and you shook your head fervently.
“I’m broke.”
Caleb scoffed. “Oh come on—”
“No, I am.” You pulled your phone out to open up your bank app, then showed the screen to them. “See? Totally broke.”
That seemed to have snapped Bucky out of the haze he was in. “Wait, you need money?”
“Nope,” you said, shaking your head fervently. “No I don’t.”
Caleb stared at your phone screen. “How is that even possible?”
“I got myself a separate bank account when I was eighteen,” you said. “I wouldn’t touch his money with a gun to my head, I know where it comes from. And before you ask, I won’t touch it when he dies either, it will go straight to charity.”
“And he’s okay with that?”
“Not at all but he ignores it, just like he ignores how I’ve been begging him to disown me for years,” you said and turned to Bucky. “Please say something.”
Bucky just held your gaze for a moment before taking a deep breath.
“Your surname is different?”
“I changed it to my mother’s maiden name the day I turned eighteen,” you said. “You should’ve seen the paperwork.”
Bucky pointed at the door. “Birdie, I just told your father to go to hell.”
“You—” Kelsey’s eyes widened. “You told him to go to hell?”
“With different words.”
“What words?”
Bucky raised his brows, then motioned at her and you. “You two are here, I can’t exactly say what I said.”
“Bucky how many times must we tell you that people can curse around—” Caleb started but Kelsey cut him off, throwing her head back to look up at the ceiling like she was asking for help.
“Jesus, we’re not gonna last a term.”
“Would he assassinate him?”
Bucky rolled his eyes. “No one is going to assassinate me, Caleb.”
“Hypothetically, would it even count as assassination if he killed you?”
“No.”
“I was going to say who died and left you in charge of assassinations, but I think everyone in this room knows the answer—”
“Bucky, I don’t think you understand,” Kelsey insisted. “Let’s say you’re Aragorn, this guy is Sauron!”
You made a face.
“He’s not Sauron, his power does have a limit.” You paused for a moment. “He’s Saruman at best.”
“Thanks, that makes it so much better—”
“Can we have the room?” Bucky cut her off and Kelsey and Caleb exchanged glances, then left the office. You could feel the anxiety churning your stomach but you swallowed thickly, keeping your eyes on him.
“Bucky…”
“Why not tell me?”
You let out a bitter laugh. “Would you have hired me?”
He frowned. “Of course I would.”
“And how would that go? Here’s my resume, oh by the way, my father bribes and extorts politicians for a living?” you asked. “See, I don’t think you would.”
“So your solution was to keep it a secret? Even after we—” He stopped himself. “Even after we started working together?”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“I couldn’t just tell you,” you said. “Listen, I wanted to work in politics, and…”
“And you could’ve easily got a job here,” Bucky told you. “You didn’t have to wait until I got elected.”
“Do you think that’s why I’m doing this?” you asked. “Bucky, I don’t want to work for a politician who is only gonna hire me because of my father, he stands for the opposite of everything I believe in—”
“And it’s been like that from the beginning?” he asked, making you pull back. “From the first minute we started working together?”
When the realization crashed down on you, it tightened your throat like a fist.
“You don’t believe me,” you muttered, biting inside your cheek and he let out a breath.
“Birdie, listen—”
“No, you listen,” you cut him off. “The next time you accuse me of working for my father, or—or having anything to do with his corruption, I will walk away, Bucky. I’ll pick one of the many job offers being thrown at me from someone who’s not in my father’s pocket -surprisingly, there are still some of those- and I’ll go and work for them. So I guess the question you should be asking is, do you really want that to happen?”
With that, you stormed out of the office and made your way to the stairs without sparing anyone a glance, your heart still pounding in your chest.
                                                 *
Well needless to say, as far as first days went, that one was not so good.
You had gone straight home after work without dropping by Bucky’s office again. Caleb came home an hour after you, and Kelsey was the last one to arrive, and they had a lot of questions.
At least they had both brought booze and snacks.
And now, way past midnight, all of you were sitting on the floor, still drinking and snacking but the air felt much lighter.
“I just want to say, Birdie,” Caleb said. “Even if your father is a demon sent from hell to bribe politicians, we love you.”
“Aw, thanks Caleb.”
“Can I also point out that,” Kelsey said, reaching for some chips, “it sure is weird that we have a TV, a fucking gramophone—”
“No badmouthing my gramophone, Kels.”
“But we don’t have a couch?”
“We’ll buy a couch,” you said, throwing a piece of chocolate in air to catch it with your mouth. “Like, next month. When we can afford it.”
“Maybe we should let your father know his daughter doesn’t have a couch, so that he can send us a gold one.”
You shot her a look and she grinned.
“These jokes will continue, just so you know.”
“I know, I know…” you muttered and pointed at the TV. “Swipe left.”
“No, swipe right!” Caleb told Kelsey who tilted her head, still holding her thumb over her phone screen. You had connected her phone to the TV and for over an hour you were going over the ‘options’ for her as Caleb had put it, and even though you’d had doubts at first, this turned out to be much more fun than watching political news.
“I mean he does give off fuckboy vibes, Caleb.”
“I don’t give a shit, he has a dog,” Caleb said. “One of us has to find someone with a dog. Birdie already has Bucky, who has an asshole cat—”
“I don’t have Bucky, and Alpine is a pretty princess.”
“And I’m a dog person,” Caleb said, pointing at the picture on the screen. “Maybe he’ll bring over his dog.”
“You make a good point,” Kelsey said as she swiped right, and all of you made a face at the next picture on the screen.
“Left!”
“Do you guys think I’ll have to work for someone else?”
“I think Bucky would rather resign himself than fire you,” Kelsey stated and Caleb nodded, taking a fistful of jellybeans into his palm.
“She’s right,” he said. “Do you want the green ones?”
“Yes please,” you said and held out your hand so that he could put the green jellybeans in your palm, and you popped them in your mouth. “And if he doesn’t trust me anymore?”
“That’s why he looked like a kicked puppy when I told Kels you were already home within his earshot?”
You let out a whine and downed your drink. “It’s gonna be so weird when I see him tomorrow.”
“Just pretend nothing happened,” Kelsey said, making Caleb scoff.  
“I’m sure it’s a very healthy approach to disagreements in a relationship.”
“We’re not in a relationship,” you said sulkily as the roar of a motorcycle outside reached the apartment. “He’s in a relationship with Hazel fucking—swipe right on this one Kels—Brooks.”
“Who hates your guts because she knows Bucky likes you.”
“Right,” you said with a laugh. “Because Bucky would ever leave his hot, successful, billionaire girlfriend —who is, if I may repeat, super hot— to be with me.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
You flailed your arms. “We don’t even have a damn couch, Kels!”
“Then he fucks you on the floor, who cares?” Caleb exclaimed as he poured more wine into your glass, and your phone buzzed on the floor. You picked it up, sitting up straighter the moment you saw the text.
From: Winter Is Coming
Hey. Are you awake?
“What the…” you muttered and turned the screen to Caleb and Kelsey so that they could read the text. “Is this a ‘you up’ text? Is Bucky sending me a you up text?”
“The man has to google half of the things I text him, but he’s sending you a you up text, sure.” Kelsey scoffed a laugh. “See, told you things would work out. That’s gonna be an apology text, text him back.”
You sent a quick yes, your heartbeat getting faster as Caleb grinned.
“He’s so lying in bed thinking about you, aw!”
“He’s not doing that— ” You started but you were cut off when your phone buzzed in your hand.
Do you mind stepping outside for a minute?
“Holy shit!”
“Caleb, stop shouting!”
“He’s here?!”
“Oh my God, oh my God…” You jumped on your feet, fanning yourself. “What do I do?”
“Well, you calm down,” Kelsey said, getting up as well. “And you go outside.”
“How do I look?”
“You look great.” Kelsey pulled your top down a little and wiggled her brows. “For good luck.”
You took a deep breath, fixed your hair, and rushed out of the apartment to make your way downstairs, then you stepped out of the building to find him leaning against his motorcycle. 
Goddamn it.
You were supposed to be angry at him, but somehow the butterflies in your stomach refused to listen to you.
“To repeat,” you said as you walked down the stairs and approached him. “I have a doorbell.”
“It’s 2 a.m.” Bucky replied, his eyes fixed on you, making your heart skip a beat. “I figured Caleb and Kelsey would be asleep.”
“Nope, we’re picking guys for Kelsey,” you said. “So what brings you here?”
Bucky paused for a moment and licked his lips.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “About today…”
“Listen, I know you’re gonna say I should’ve told you but you need to understand—”
“I’m sorry.”
That made you stop talking and your eyes snapped up to his, a confused frown pulling your brows together. Bucky gave you an apologetic smile and cleared his throat as if he was willing to get the words out.
“I don’t like it when people hide things from me, and I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes from yours for a moment. “I trust you a lot, so when you—”
You shook your head fervently. “Bucky, I would never betray your trust.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” you insisted. “Because I need you to know that. I would never go behind your back and do anything to—to hurt you in any way.”
That soft light appeared in his blue eyes. “I know.”
“It’s just not who I am.”
“I know, Birdie.”
You bit inside your cheek.
“And I’m sorry too,” you muttered, pressing your palms on your eyes for a moment before dropping your hands. “I swear, something evil comes out of me whenever someone so much as mentions me being anything like him. Especially when I spent years trying to prove that I’m not.”
“I get that.”
You looked down, shifting your weight from one foot to other, then raised your head to smile up at him.
“Do you want to come in?” you asked. “You can help us pick guys for Kels, and there’s wine and snacks.”
“Tempting offer,” he said. “But I’m actually here to drop something off.”
You frowned as he reached into the box behind his motorcycle. “What? I’m pretty sure I got all the files—”
You stopped talking the moment you saw what he pulled out of the box, a gasp leaving your lips and your hands shooting up to your mouth.
Blinky.
He held out the worn out plushie for you and you gawked at him for a couple of seconds before you reached out to take it.
“Wh—how?”
“It was on my way.”
You pulled your brows together, looking down at the fox plushie before raising your glances again.
“My old apartment, which is in New York,” you said slowly, “was on your way to your home, which is in DC.”
Bucky’s lips twitched into a mischievous smile.
“Well okay, it wasn’t,” he admitted. “I just got back to the city, that’s why I texted you at this hour.”
You could feel your heart melting in your chest. “You went all the way to New York to get my childhood plushie back?”
“I still think that counts as a toy,” he pointed out as if it was crucial information. “But you said it was important to you, so…”
Don’t kiss him.
You can’t kiss him. He’s your boss, he has a girlfriend, he does not see you that way, do not kiss him.
“And if anything, I’d been wanting to talk to Max for a while now, so the toy was basically just an excuse.”
“It a plushie—” You changed directions mid-sentence. “What do you mean you talked to Max?”
The look on his face was too innocent. “We just had a conversation, that’s all.”
“About?”
“About him not making anything difficult for you. Or something along those lines.”   
The warmth swirled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel lightheaded as you beamed at him, a giggle climbing your chest.
“Bucky.” You breathed out. “I don’t know what to say...”
“Oh it’s nothing, really.”
“It’s not nothing,” you said. “It’s—it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”
That made his head snap up, his eyes searching yours while a proud smile pulled at his lips like your praise meant the world to him. It could’ve been funny if you weren’t trying so hard to control yourself from kissing him; the deadliest assassin in the world, the infamous Bucky Barnes who barely smiled at anyone, who could strike fear in anyone’s hearts with a mere glare, now had the same expression of an excited puppy who was given a treat.
His throat bobbed and he blinked a couple of times like he was trying to pull himself together, then gestured at his motorcycle. “I uh, I should go.”
You were painfully aware that you were pouting. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he said. “And hey, I’m sure you’re needed inside too. Can’t have Kelsey choose the wrong guy.”
You huffed out a laugh, hugging a plushie to your stomach and nodded.
“See you tomorrow,” you said quietly and took a couple of steps but then turned around to look at him.
“And…” You cleared your throat, your heart pacing in your chest. “Thank you. It means more than you know.”
His voice was soft: “Good night Birdie.”
He waited until you were in the building to ride away and you pressed a hand over your chest before climbing the stairs to enter your apartment.
“Hey,” Kelsey said. “How did it—is that a plushie?”
“Bucky got you a plushie?” Caleb asked, confusion clear in his tone and you looked down at the plushie, then back at them.
“Guys, we have a problem,” you rasped out, your voice weak even to your own ears. “I think I’m actually falling for him.”
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 23 days ago
Text
mission partners [one-shot]
bucky barnes x avengers!reader
summary: you have no idea why bucky has a deep rooted hatred for you. you two are paired up for a mission, and you find yourself facing the demons of your past while having to deal with bucky's mood swings.
warnings: smut, 18+, mdni, no use of y/n, enemies to lovers kinda, misunderstandings (?), reader is lowk very depressed here, mentions of trauma, depictions of violence, mentions of sa (not in detail), kidnapping, mentions of torture, consume media at your own risk
word count: 14.9k
a/n: im ngl idk what this is i just woke up the other day and kept writing this. i hope this keeps you guys happy while i try to figure out how i want neighborly advice to progress </3 -- also there's a lot of story building in here bc i like giving reader a backstory whoops.
masterlist
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The wind was knocked out of your lungs before you could register the pain radiating through your body. You groan, shifting over to your side to force yourself up.
“On your feet,” he grunts from above you. 
If this were any other moment, any other scene, the sight of the man before you– hovering above you– would have your heart beating fast for a different reason. A man made of both metal and flesh, strong, rough around the edges. He’s calculating, hard, and smells faintly of cedarwood and gunpowder most of the time. On rare occasions, you catch the scent of fresh linen and cotton. 
Right now though, your heart is thumping against your rib cage angrily. This is the fifth time he’s had you on your back within the hour, and he’s not pinning you down in the way that you would secretly hope for. Not that you would ever admit or voice your delusions to anyone else. Just your own little secret to fester in the back of your mind when you think no one’s watching.
You bite back the curse bubbling in your throat, and slam your fist into the mat. You find yourself upright once more, ignoring the sudden rush of blood going through your head— the dizziness. 
“You keep falling for the same damn thing,” Bucky clicks his tongue, bringing his hands up, ready to strike again.
“Not my fault you come at me like you’re trying to kill me,” you say with a frown, barely having the time to duck your head as his fist comes at your head quickly. You can't help but feel the shock that rushes through your body in that moment— he would’ve knocked you out with that swing. 
“Everyone on the field will be trying to kill you,” he reminds you with a shake of his head. You know he's right, and it pisses you off. “What’s the point of training if you’re not prepared for the real thing?”
You dodge once more, but his wingspan is too large. He grabs onto your hair– the low ponytail that you had it in– and you let out a yelp of pain as you grab at his wrist, trying to claw his hand away. 
“Your hair is too long,” he says, frowning. “You either need to cut it or figure something else out otherwise shit like this is going to keep happening to you. It’s always fucking down. Doesn’t it bother you, getting in your way like this?”
You don’t answer him. You don’t want to answer him– you don’t believe that he deserves to know the truth. You grit your teeth, and shift on your feet— one swift movement to slam your heel into the side of his head. 
It doesn’t connect. He easily deflects, grabbing your ankle, and throwing you down. This time, a groan of pain escapes your throat. Bucky lets out a sigh above your head, and doesn’t even look at you, but you can feel the energy radiating off of him without looking at his face. Disappointment. 
“I’m calling it for today,” he says. You open your eyes, finding him already walking away, leaving you on the mat. 
You stay there for a few moments, trying to catch your breath with your eyes shut. Slowly but surely, the rise and fall of your chest evens out, and the room is no longer spinning. You open your eyes to stare at the fluorescent gym lights overhead, glaring. 
What the fuck was his problem?
You’d joined the team as a healer. You weren’t necessarily first on the field— you spent most of your time hanging back and waiting for everyone else to come back to the jet. If anything, he needed to be training with Steve to get better at making sure no one would be able to get to you. 
You were decent with guns, knew your way around regular hand to hand combat, and stealth wasn’t that big of an issue for you. You had more than enough qualifications to land you in your current position, and the backstory to match. You were brought into the team after spending most of your life under the radar, but you should’ve known you couldn’t have hidden for too long. 
You fit in well with the rest of the team. They didn’t ask questions about your origins, and you never shared.
Steve and Sam had originally been mentoring you before Bucky took you under his deranged wing. At first, it was all business. Eventually, both men would start talking to you more outside of the gym and the shooting ranges. Sam started including you on his jokes whenever he picked on Steve.
The girls opened up to you faster, Natasha and Wanda including you on girl nights almost immediately. They mentioned something abiout needing more women on the team, and being more than happy to welcome you with open arms.
Where Natasha went, Clint went, which meant the sharp shooter had also taken a liking to you and often gave you various snacks whenever he came back from whatever mission he returned from. He reminded you of a dad, if you were being honest.
You had spent some time with Bruce in the lab. At first, it started with him examining your blood to understand what about your biological structure made you be able to heal, but then it progressed into a kind of bond. You found that your healing had a calming side effect that managed to keep the big guy away during tough days.
Tony's banter made you misunderstand him at first. He opened up right away with strange nicknames like magic hands. He once called you doctor once. Natasha had to explain that it meant he had taken a liking to you- he only joked and poked fun at those he thought were worth his time.
Thor sung your praises all the way to Asgard. Apparently, healers were rare and very precious back on his planet. He stated they were often targeted first as they were seen as the biggest threat to any war. Every time you were on a mission with him, you found yourself feeling ten times safer than usual.
It was only Bucky. Bucky fucking hated you, and you had no idea why. You didn’t even necessarily hate the man. In fact, you held a great deal of respect for him. His fighting styles, his command that he held in a room… All of it was something that you held with awe. You would never tell him that though. With how often he puts you down, your pride would never allow you to compliment him. You were certain that he would only scoff at you and dismiss you without another thought.
If you were really being truthful, you harbored the 'smallest' of crushes on him. You enjoyed watching him from afar. When he shut the fuck up and stopped arguing with you, he was handsome. When he didn’t pick apart every single aspect of your skillset, you thought he was smart. Your eyes would follow him more often than you would like to admit. Your heart would jump when you found out that he had gotten hurt on a mission, and relax to find out it was nothing major. 
Your feelings betrayed your mind– which made all of his comments hurt tenfold. You didn’t know if he had any respect for you as a member of the team. If he found out you were on a mission, he would argue it. Say he didn’t need you there, that you were a liability to deal with if things ever went sideways. 
It’s what led to these private training moments. Steve was fed up with his best friend’s anger, and proposed these borderline workplace abuse sessions. 
“If it bothers you so much, you train her then,” Steve had said. Your eyes damn near bulged out of your skull.
“Cap?” you said cautiously. 
“Just indulge him,” he said with a sigh. “If it gets him to stop complaining, then it’s better for you, too.”
You quietly hoped there was some part of Bucky that did hold a bit of respect for you. That the reason he even bothered with these training sessions was for your own good. You’d watched him long enough to know that he wouldn’t do anything he thought wasn’t worth his time. Yet, here you were, nursing your own injuries that you couldn’t heal on your own— well, that wasn’t the truth. You could. But there was always a price that came with that. 
“He did a number on you,” Natasha says with a grin, coming into view. You sigh, and watch as she sticks her hand out for you to take. You take her hand with a grunt, allowing her to yank you up to your feet. Every muscle in your body protests at the sudden movement. 
“It’s like he’s trying to kill me before anyone else can,” you murmur, rolling your shoulders experimentally. Nothing is dislodged or broken, thankfully.
“I mean, he does have a point,” Natasha shrugs, patting your back. You two went over to the benches, and she handed you a bottle of ice cold water. “If our enemies find out that we have a healer on our team, they’re gonna start surpassing the rest of us to get to you.”
You can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips as you take the water. You stare at it, knowing she’s right– knowing that Bucky’s right. “Doesn’t mean that he gotta act like that,” you murmur stubbornly. 
“Maybe he doesn’t have to come at you like you have years of training under your belt, but it comes from a good place.”
You give her a look, and she smiles in return. “A good place?” you repeat, your voice dry.
“You don’t see him dragging Tony’s ass in here to do hand to hand,” Natasha said, tilting her head with a raised eyebrow.
“Stark has a metal suit with rockets,” you respond. “There’s no reason for him to need to do hand to hand.”
“What if the tech fails? Then what? Can’t rely on gadgets all the time. Just like you can’t rely on us to be your shield all the time,” she hums. “He’s only looking out for you, even if he’s doing it in the wrong way.”
“You know so much about him, huh?” you ask, eyeing her strangely.
“I’m observant,” she corrects, shaking her head. “Which means I also see the way he looks for you in every single room when he thinks no one is watching.”
“Yeah, probably to take out his anger on me,” you grunt, ignoring what she’s trying to hint at.
“And,” Natasha continues, “I see the way you stare at him.”
“With hatred and anger? I know the feeling all too well.”
“More like you don’t know whether or not you want to kiss him or fuck him.” She’s grinning now, and you can feel a heat begin to crawl up your neck and face. 
You hate assassins, you decide at that moment. You hate them and how easy they can read people. You hate Natasha, and you hate Bucky. You clear your throat, intent on distancing yourself from the situation at hand. However, you don’t correct her. You don’t deny her statement either.
“I’m off to shower. We have a meeting soon– something about another mission?” You stand, taking a deep gulp of the water before you grab your bag.
Natasha sighs, “It’s always another mission.”
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“I’m not going on a mission with her.”
You drop your chin to your chest, closing your eyes tight. You can feel the headache coming on and pulsing from behind your eyes. Your body still aches from the training session this morning– and the training sessions that you’d had together every day for the past two and a half weeks. It has been hell on Earth, and Bucky still refuses. The constant rejection is starting to wear you down.
“Barnes, the mission calls for the two of you. I need you to watch her front, and she’ll watch your six,” Fury says, eyes narrowing at the super soldier. He’s fed up. Everyone in this room is fed up. “In the event that you are injured–”
“Unlikely,” Bucky cut him off, dismissing the thought like it could never happen to him. Which, truthfully– it rarely has. Out of everyone on the team, you’d only seen him severely injured a couple of times. Other times were the normal scrapes and bruises that were sustained in battle; but he never even came over to you for those like the rest of the team did.
“If you get injured,” Fury sighs, correcting himself just to placate him, “she will be there to help you.”
“I don’t need deadweight with me. It’ll only slow me down,” Bucky argues, crossing his arms over his chest.
Your jaw clenches at the words, and you suck in a deep breath. Deadweight? You’ve been on more than a handful of missions yourself at this point. You’ve gained the respect of the other Avengers and worked alongside them easily. Your solo missions may never be a straight battle, but you have other strengths. 
“Gonna keep talking about me like I’m not even here?” you demand, finally lifting your head to look at him.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, the nickname coming out of his lips almost mockingly. You could feel your blood begin to boil under your skin at the patronizing tone. The anger that you’d been feeling the past couple weeks is coming to the surface, bubbling and rolling over. You’re about to burst.
“What’s your fucking problem?” you start, standing up.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Steve cut in, slamming his hands on the table. Steve’s giving you a look, telling you with his eyes to back down. Reluctantly, you sit back in your seat. “Buck, she’s going on that mission with you. Bottom line– obviously you two are paired together because she needs to be there.”
Fury nodded slowly, clasping his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat, grabbing your attention once more.
“You’re going undercover.”
“Undercover,” you repeat, eyebrows furrowing. 
“Yes, which is why you need to be his partner.” Fury says before he looks at Bucky, and sighs. “She’s familiar with the area and the situation– she’s been there before, and she has the information necessary in order to make this operation go smoothly. You two will be infiltrating a charity gala that's being used to front a human trafficking scheme for enhanced individuals, and she needs a dance partner.”
“Why the hell can’t it be Steve?” Bucky grunts, frowning deeply.
“Because Steve can’t dance, now can he?” Fury snaps. “I suggest you brush up on your forties’ charm, Barnes. You need to be one hell of a convincing partner if you want to fool the other guests."
The room goes silent. There's no room for fighting, not with the tone your boss just gave you. With the lack of argument, he nods.
"This meeting is over, no objections. I’ll have the mission details be sent to your rooms by the end of the day, and you two will report to leave in the morning. You are all dismissed.”
Chairs are scraped against the carpet as everyone shifts. You listen as footsteps start shuffling out of the room, but you stay planted in your seat. Dread is building up in your gut, and you might throw up if you move too fast. It’s overshadowing the ache in your muscles, the pain and anger you felt just moments ago.
Wanda stops beside you, eyebrows furrowed.
“Hey… you okay?” she whispered, a hand touching your shoulder.
No. You’re not okay. You know this gala. You know why you’re going there– and what’s waiting for you. The argument, the blow up you had with Bucky in front of everyone is no longer important to you right now. You have to suck it up, and go back into where it all began for you. You let out a shaky breath, then give Wanda your most convincing smile.
“I’m okay,” you tell her, standing. “Head just hurts from all the yelling.”
You force your feet to move, to walk. You have to pack.
You do your best to hide your anxiety on the jet as you sit opposite from Bucky. The aircraft is being operated by F.R.I.D.A.Y., and you were already informed that it would be back at the rendezvous point to pick you two up in one week's time. If you missed the loading time, you two would be shit outta luck and need to get back to base on your own, or at least contact back to let everyone know that you needed more time for the operation.
“Romanoff said you often did espionage. Why do you look so nervous?” Bucky questions, making you look up. You blink at him, pausing. He doesn’t look indifferent. In fact, he looks curious. 
“Why do you care?” you ask before you can stop yourself. You watch as his face immediately turns sour at your response, and he looks away. Uncharacteristically, there’s no response. He doesn’t say anything to piss you off. Instead, there’s only silence. You wonder if Steve made him promise to be nice to you during this trip.
This would be the first mission you go on with Bucky by yourself. Usually, there would be another person here with you to act as a buffer– to shield you from him. He usually stayed in his own head during missions, but if interaction was necessary, he would avoid talking to you. You laced your fingers together and squeezed your hands tight. This would be a long week.
You’re dropped off to the safehouse soon, and Bucky mutters something about checking the perimeter while you check the indoors. Firearm in hand, you go inside to inspect. Just as the report said, it’s a fully furnished home.
It’s an unsuspecting cabin in the outskirts of a suburban town, and you two would need to drive into the city to get into the gala. It’s small, with just a living room, one bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen. Just the bare necessities. Everything else you two could possibly need is yourselves.
After deeming the inside secure, you check the amenities. Running water, working electricity. Someone back at the base must have updated the safehouse recently– a lot of the furniture was new. Either that, or this place was recently built and only made to look old and rundown from the outside. You find even the pantry and fridge has enough food for the week.
“Tomorrow night is the gala’s first night,” you say as you hear Bucky enter through the door, closing the door of the fridge. “Our outfits should already be in the closet.”
“Perimeter secure,” he reports, ignoring your own comments. 
“I assumed, otherwise I would’ve heard fighting out there.” You cross your arms over your chest, staring at him with raised eyebrows. Bucky lets out a deep sigh of annoyance in response.
“You take the bed.”
“We can switch off every night,” you propose. Now, he looks surprised. “We’re here for a week, and that couch looks small. I’m sure you won’t complain, but I don’t necessarily think dancing will be easy if you’re stiff from poor sleep for a week.”
Bucky lets out a breath, then nods once. “Fine.”
You turn towards the hall, ready to turn in for the night, when you stop. “Barnes.”
“What?” he asks, slight annoyance coming through.
“I know you hate me, but I really need you to hide it when we’re in front of everyone tomorrow,” you say, looking over his shoulder. He pauses, and you continue, “I can’t do my job and let you do your job if you mess me up. Just follow my lead.”
His lack of response is the only answer you get from him, pushing you into the soft mattress in the bedroom.
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Bucky tosses the keys to the luxury vehicle to the valet driver as another staff member opens your door, and offers you a hand. You smile graciously– practiced, perfect. This is second nature. Nothing that you learned during your time with the Avengers. This was already instilled in your bones way before you were ever recruited. 
When Bucky rounds the car and comes to your side, you slip your arm through his, and feel as his body tenses slightly. You smile and lean closer into him as you two walk up the stairs. 
“Act like you tolerate me or we’re both going to get gunned down before we even pass the doors,” you whisper into his ear, still smiling.
“There are no guns aimed at us,” he whispers back. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Did he even read the mission report? There were enhanced individuals all around, all being forced to work for the handler– and you had no idea who the enhanced were.
“Not yet,” you remind him, and he takes a deep breath, but ultimately relaxes beside you. He even rests his opposite hand on yours, leading you through the threshold and into the lion's den.
The gala is exactly as you remember it.
The dazzling chandeliers that hang overhead, lighting up the ballroom to ensure no one could hide in the shadows. The bustle of servants and staff members whose eyes are constantly watching you to ensure that every movement gets reported to upper management. The live band, playing at a volume just loud enough to ensure the screams from the tortured below are not heard by unsuspecting guests that have no idea that this is not a charity ball at all. The whispers and gossip of the elite members of the gala, all those who know why they are really here and are buzzing with excitement for the auction to begin on the last day of the party. 
All of it makes you want to throw up just the same.
You two find a space on the side of the floor– not too out of the way that makes you both look suspicious, but not directly in the middle of all the action. Today is about scouting. Finding information. If you two could get an invitation to the auction, then you could forgo the next three nights of the gala, and only show up for the last night. 
You’re sipping slowly on a flute of champagne as you let your eyes wash over the crowd. 
“The servants are most likely enhanced,” Bucky whispers, leaning down from behind you. The action startles you briefly– the proximity. It makes your heart beat just a tiny bit faster, and you’re glad he’s behind you and unable to see your face. His chest is touching your back, his lips so close to you that you can feel his breath fanning against your neck as he whispers. “Their movements are too sharp, too calculated. They’re looking around as if they’re waiting for something.”
“They’re not,” you whisper back, getting a hold of yourself. You lean into him a little more as you notice someone glance over at the two of you. Bucky stiffens for just a second before relaxing, a hand coming to rest on your hip. He was adapting quickly to the part you two were supposed to be playing.
“What makes you say that?” he murmurs.
“The enhanced would be branded. Numbers on the back of their necks. Like merchandise to scan and check out when they’re bought.” It’s hard to conceal the bitterness that comes through your voice.
“How do you know that?” he asks, the hand on your hip squeezing you a bit tighter. 
You freeze in place. You swallow down the remainder of the champagne and turn in his arms to smile at him. “Didn’t you read the report?” you ask, tilting your head. You watch as his eyebrows furrow, and his lips part to respond, but he never gets the chance. 
The host comes out– he comes out– and calls for everyone’s attention at the front of the room. Everyone turns to look, the music quieting down but never stopping. Just played above a hush. He has no microphone, there are no speakers, but somehow his voice is amplified and can be heard by everyone in the ballroom.
“Thank you for coming tonight. I am your host, William Talbot,” the host grins, holding his arms out wide. Applause erupts from everywhere, you and Bucky joining in. “I am delighted to have you all here this week. All your donations are being put to a good cause; research towards children and young adults' infectious diseases and developmental studies. I beseech you to enjoy yourselves this week as we continue to celebrate each and every single one of you. We would not be able to save as many lives as we do at our lab if not for each of the guests in this room!”
Cheers and whistles join in on the applause as Talbot takes a deep bow, crossing one hand over his chest as he does. After he rises, he turns, disappearing back into the hallway that he came out from, the music one again increasing in volume. People start mingling around the two of you, and there are some that begin to float onto the dance floor with their partners. 
“Piece of shit,” Bucky mutters, making you snort. “That’s our guy, isn’t it?”
You nod, and take a deep breath. “I didn’t expect to see him on the first night, though. We need him or his assistants– someone to get an invitation from.”
The plan had already been set– the two of you had finalized it in the car. After spending some time together in the beginning of the night to establish that you were a couple, you would end up breaking off naturally to find other people to mingle with to feel out the crowd. Find out who was close to Talbot, see who had the connection to get you into the auction.
Worst case scenario, the two of you would attend all nights of the gala trying to get the invitation and have to do this same song and dance. If, on the off chance, you didn’t get an invitation, you two would stake out the place and find the auction. It would be a lot messier, but it needed to happen. 
So, you started. Bucky disappeared into the crowd and you hung out on the outskirts of the dance floor. You knew you looked lonely, nursing another flute of champagne with no one to talk to– it would give someone the perfect opportunity to approach you. These people always wanted to bite the bait, and it was only a matter of time until someone did.
“All alone tonight?” a voice came from your side. You turned, and paused. You knew this man– and you knew he had no idea who you were. 
“My partner saw someone familiar and ended up heading off,” you say with a smile, “I’m just waiting.”
He let out a small scoff, shaking his head. Then, he offered you a hand. “Benjamin Talbot. You dance?”
“Talbot? That was your father up there?” you ask, placing your drink down on the table behind you. You take his hand, your smile widening despite the bile burning in your stomach.
“My old man is a little embarrassing at times. I try not to be associated, but unfortunately I am his flesh and blood,” he answers with a grin. Benjamin leads you to the floor, then stands directly in front of you. His hands fall to your waist as yours go to his shoulders. You feel that tingle under your skin– the power threatening to take over, to do what it did to save you all those years ago.
You push it away.
“You must be proud,” you laugh, shaking your head as he starts to lead you in a dance. “Your family is doing very revolutionary things.”
“What can I say?” he hums, standing a bit taller now. Boastful– and you realize this is a good angle. 
“Can I assume that you’ll be taking over once your father decides to rest?” you hum. “You must be studying under him, if not already his right hand man.”
“The time may be sooner than later,” he says, his grin only growing larger. “We have a lot of amazing things planned. You’ll be blown away once you see it all.”
“Really?” you ask, tilting your head. “Like what?”
His lips part briefly, and there’s a look in his eyes. You know you’ve got him. 
“Have you been invited to the fifth night of the gala yet?” he asks.
“There’s a fifth night?” you ask, feigning innocence.
He grins at you, nodding. “We’ll show off our best merchandise there– it’s much less a gala night and more of a business night. If you’re interested, I can get you and your partner an invite.”
You brighten at the words, and nod excitedly. “I would love that! It’s always a pleasure to see what the Talbots have in store!”
“Wonderful,” he chuckles, nodding. The music comes to an end, and he lets go of you. You quickly let go of him as well, watching as he pulls out two business cards from his pockets. “Address is on the back– don’t lose this. This is your ticket.”
“Honestly, you’re amazing, Benjamin. Really,” you smile at him. He pauses, then pulls out a pen from his breast pocket, scribbling something on it. Then, he hands it to you, leaning close.
“My number,” he whispers into your ear as he presses the card into your hand. “In case you and your partner don’t work out.”
A shiver runs down your spine– one of disgust. You mask it quickly, turning to him with a smirk before giving him a wink. He chuckles darkly before walking off. You wait until he’s far enough away before you turn to look for Bucky. The second you move, there’s a grip on your arm that makes you jump.
“We’re leaving,” he grunts.
“What? Bucky–!” you exclaim, shocked.
He’s all but dragging you towards the exit, and you’re barely able to stop yourself from tripping over your heels and dress. Bucky doesn’t stop even when you get to the exit, his grip on you strong enough to bruise. The valet is quick, your car pulling up in record time– and you’re thrown into the damn car, the door slammed shut behind you.
“Barnes, what the fuck?!” you scream at him once he gets in. 
He doesn’t answer, and hits the gas, the two of you taking off. Bucky keeps his eyes on the road, and you see his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. You pause for a second. His jaw is clenched tight, there’s a vein popping in his neck.
“Bucky?” you ask slowly. “What happened? Who did you talk to?”
There’s no response again. He only takes a slow, controlled, deep inhale. You swallow before you settle in your seat, turning to face the road. Despite the anger he’s feeling, he’s not driving like a maniac. You’re not even sure why he’s angry right now. 
Once you reach the cabin, you move to get your stuff out of the bedroom. It’s his turn to sleep on the bed tonight, after all. He must need it, after whatever he’s been through tonight. When you come out into the living room, Bucky’s just standing in the middle of it. His frame is taking up the space, and he’s staring at the wall like he wants to punch it down.
“What happened back there?” you try again, frowning. “I got us the invitations, so we don’t need to go back until auction night. We’re fine to lay low or scout out the area prior to the auction–”
“Show me the back of your neck,” Bucky cuts you off, turning to look at you. Your breath catches in your throat.
“What?” you whisper.
“Your neck. Show me the back of it,” he repeats, taking a few steps closer. You instinctively take a few steps back. 
“Why the hell do you need to see my neck?” you ask, trying to will your voice to be even. It takes everything in you to not cover the area with your hand.
“I read the report. There was no information about numbers on the enhanced,” he said. You were backed into a wall. Nowhere to run. “Show me your neck.”
“What does this have to do with anything–”
“I need to know if you’re too damn close to this mission to think rationally. If you’re compromised, I’m sending you home,” he cut you off again. “Show me your fucking neck.”
Your mouth falls open. “Are you serious?” you whisper.
Bucky doesn’t respond. He continues to stare at you with those same steely eyes. You know he’s serious. His body is rigid, and he’s one second away from spinning you around and pinning you to the wall to move your hair out of the way to check your neck himself. You can only feel bitterness begin to build.
“You go on every single H.Y.D.R.A. related mission,” you say with a swallow, shaking your head. “How are you not too closely related to that?”
“That’s different,” he dismisses.
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“How?!” you exclaim, placing your hands on his chest to push him back, reclaiming some space for yourself. To your surprise, he gives in. “It’s exactly the same!”
Once again, Bucky chooses to not answer you. Whether it’s because he doesn’t have a good enough reason to tell you why it’s different, or if it’s because he has decided that you’re not worthy of knowing why he does what he does– you don’t care. You just want to get away from him. The night has been tiring enough, and you barely were out and about. 
You know he won’t let you go too far without confirming his suspicions. 
With a shaking hand, you turn, pulling your hair to the side.
“Are you fucking happy? There’s nothing,” you spit, staring into the wall. 
You can feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your neck– your skin. Even in the low light, you know that he’s searching for something that isn’t there. Numbers that were already gone, numbers that you removed yourself.
The touch of cold metal brushing against your skin makes your breath hitch and your body straighten. Goosebumps rise where his fingers touch, and you swallow thickly. The grip on your hair tightens. You’re trembling slightly.
“There’s a scar,” he whispers. There’s a thread of concern in his voice. “From what?”
You take a deep breath and tear yourself away from his touch. You push your hair back into place, covering your neck once more and turn to face him.
“I was sent here for a reason,” you say, trying to keep your voice even. “You have your orders, I have mine. Stay out of my way, soldier.”
You shove past him, going into the bathroom. The door slams behind you with a resounding thud.
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The next couple days are filled with silence. Neither of you are talking to each other, much less speaking to one another. What he does during the day doesn’t concern you, but you assume he’s trailing your targets and checking out the auction site. Meanwhile, you’ve been running scans on the auction perimeter to see if everything is set up the same way it was before. If it was, then you know exactly where the ‘merchandise’ will be located.
Bucky needs to take in Talbot– that is his mission. Yours is to evacuate and get the enhanced out of there– as many as you can, safely, without having the kill switch in their necks get activated. 
You can still feel the phantom ache in your own neck, from when you ripped out the small bomb before stealing the life out of your buyer to heal yourself before you bled out. 
The location may be different, the country may have changed, but nothing has really been stopped. After you escaped all those years ago, they just went into hiding. You thought they’d put an end to the program after realizing that it was possible for their enhanced to rebel against their systems. 
Bucky might be right, as much as you hate to admit it. You may be way too close to this operation. It’s personal. They took everything from you. The years of pain and suffering that you endured under their scalpels and bright lights and teams of scientists meant nothing– Benjamin Talbot didn’t even recognize you all these years later. How could he? You were no longer malnourished, covered in scars and bruises, and struggling to survive.
You let out a shaky breath, and buried your face in your hands. You were trembling. It was only two more days until the auction. The invitation cards were on the coffee table, staring at you with malice. You wanted to burn the place down. 
A clink of ceramic covered the cards, making you pause. You looked up, seeing Bucky placing a bowl down in front of you while holding one for himself.
“Soup,” he says, nodding towards it. Your eyes narrow at the liquid.
“Did you poison it?”
“What good would it do for me for my partner to be dead, sweetheart?” he says with a sigh as he takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch. You watched as he ate from his bowl first, gulping down the contents of what looked like chicken noodle soup– then he stopped. He reached over to swap it with the bowl he had given you, and started eating from that one as well to prove that both bowls were safe.
“Thank you,” you mutter, beginning to eat as well.
“You haven’t eaten since yesterday. You need to keep your energy up for whatever’s going to happen in a couple days.”
“I know,” you say with a deep sigh. The soup is warm, flavorful. “Was this from one of the cans?”
“Hell no,” he scoffs, offended. “I had to go into the city and get this. Whatever they stock this place with is just for war rations in the middle of winter.”
“What, and you’re unable to stomach that?”
“I have learned to enjoy the better things in life, doll.” Bucky gives you a shrug that’s almost nonchalant.
“Thought you still struggled with all of that. Enjoying things.”
“I did,” he says slowly. His next words are softer, quiet. A hint of vulnerability attached to them. “I still do.”
The three words hang between the two of you in a heavy silence. It takes a few moments before the sound of a spoon hitting the edge of ceramic fills your ears again as you two attempt to eat more of the soup, pretending that his confession didn’t just break something inside of you. 
“I don’t hate you,” he finally says, breaking the silence. It makes you pause.
“What?”
“You said it on the first night. And I can feel it in the way that you look at me. I… I don’t hate you,” he confesses. 
“Are you sure?” you ask dryly, staring into the soup. There’s a slight layer of oil on top of the water. “You didn’t want me on this mission, and you already tried sending me back home on a single suspicion. Not to mention, you make it abundantly clear that you think I’m too damn weak for this job.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him wince. Bucky lets out a deep sigh, and reaches to place his bowl on the coffee table to free his hands, and runs them through his hair before he speaks again.
“I look at you and I see me.”
“What are you talking about?” Your eyebrows furrow, and you look at him. He’s serious. 
“You’re angry. Unsure. You have no idea where to put your energy to, and you’re just going through the motions of everything around you. You didn’t even join this team because you wanted to. You joined because you were tired of running from everyone and everything and this was the first opportunity that gave you a chance to go straight,” Bucky said, your jaw clenching in response.
“You don’t know a damn thing,” you whisper, hands tightening around your bowl.
You hate it. You hate him. You hate how he's able to read you so easily, and he's never even had a full conversation with you before. Were you this predictable? Was it this noticeable?
“I see you during every single mission we’re put on together,” he continues, sitting up straight. “You look like how I used to be. You don’t care if you die today, tomorrow, or the next day. You’re going through the motions–”
“Barnes. I suggest you stop talking.”
“This is the first mission that I have ever seen you be so worked up for,” he says, shaking his head. “When I went off into the gala, I slipped into one of the backrooms. I found files of the enhanced. I had enough time to go through some of them, and there were the successful cases at the very top. I read one of them- fully read one. About an A0-92.”
Your blood ran cold. You felt your heart stop in your chest. The world must’ve stopped spinning around you at this exact moment.
“There was a picture in the file… It was a kid,” he whispers, then swallows thickly before meeting your eyes. “You were a kid.”
You stood quickly, dropping the bowl of soup in your hands. The liquid was hot, burning at your skin, and the ceramic shattered on impact as it hit the ground. Your knee hit the coffee table, his own bowl of soup sloshing around with the jostle. You needed to get out here. Fresh air. The walls were closing in on you– your neck was hurting, throbbing. You could almost feel the white hot pain of the bomb beginning to detonate just moments before you took a knife to claw it out of your own body. You could feel the brand being burned into your skin again. A0-92.
You ran out of the cabin, and into the dark woods that surrounded it. Everywhere you went, it felt like you were trapped. The bite of the cold air reminded you of the cold cells, the steel tables you used to be strapped on as you were injected and cut open multiple times. The sounds of the wind sounded like the soft begs of the other children pleading you not to bleed their life away from them to heal your own wounds– but it was kill or be killed. 
You ignored the pain in your feet, every scrape and stab of rock and branch that the woods gave you. None of it hurt compared to the ghosts that haunted your every waking moment. Everything that you tried to shoot down– everything that you tried to ignore and pretend that didn’t exist. Because he was right.
You were tired of running away. You wanted to go straight, do something that mattered to other people. If it meant that you were weak, by deciding to not go into the fray– by not hurting other people again, then so be it. You would heal others, offering them the endless life force that you had cultivated over your years of torture for the auction house. One day, in the distant future, it would run out. The supply you took from others would be depleted, and your task would be done. Your debt would be paid. 
When your lungs couldn’t handle your sprint, and your legs gave up, you finally stopped. You didn’t notice the hot tears that were streaming down your face until you realized your vision was blurry. You leaned against a tree, covering your mouth with a hand as you slowly slid down to your knees, trying to suppress the sob. 
A twig snapped from behind you– a clear indicator that he had been behind you the entire time. Bucky was letting you know he was there. You knew that he could have appeared without a single sound if he didn’t want you to know of his presence. 
Slowly, you’re lifted off the ground. You don’t find the energy to fight back as he holds you against his chest, and begins the walk back towards the cabin. He doesn’t say a single word, and neither do you. The only noise between the two of you is the sound of his steady heartbeat under your ear as you listen, while trying to calm the raging storm inside of you.
Once inside, he brings you to the bedroom. The living room is still a mess from your outburst. He sits you down on the edge of the bed, disappears into the bathroom, and returns with a first aid kit in hand. He kneels down at your feet, making your heart stutter as he takes a foot in his hand.
“Wait– I can do that,” you whisper, reaching out to stop him.
“It’s my fault for approaching the situation like that.” Bucky shakes his head, gently pushing your hands away, and back onto your lap. “You wouldn’t have ran out and burnt yourself if I didn’t pry. Just sit still.”
You watch as he begins to quietly remove the debris off of your bare feet. His touch is careful, afraid of making the wounds worse. You don’t tell him that this is nothing compared to what you’ve felt before, and part of you wants to make a joke that he must know what that feels like. The look on his face makes you think twice.
He looks pained. Upset– not at you, but at himself.
“I don’t hate you,” he says again, then murmurs an apology when you flinch at the sting of the antiseptic.
“I’m starting to realize that,” you whisper back.
“I don’t… know how to comfort people,” he says slowly, clenching his jaw briefly before relaxing it. “I pulled you out of the gala after I saw the file– I took it back with me. It’s in my stuff. I didn’t want them to have anything on you.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. You could cry more, if you didn’t already dehydrate your entire body of tears. You only gave him a wordless nod.
“I was afraid someone there might recognize you,” he continues. “So I needed you out of there.”
“It’s been years. I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t look like that, you know,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.
“I recognized your photo at first glance,” he argues. “You were smaller, maybe a little starved, but you look exactly the same.”
“Natasha says you spend a lot of time staring at me. Probably why you could recognize me,” you say with a soft laugh. His hands still, just for a moment, before he continues– moving on to spread ointment on your feet. 
“Romanoff said that, huh?” he grunts, shaking his head.
“Do you? Look at me a lot?”
“I do,” he answers, looking up to meet your eyes. You stare back. “Like I said– I don’t hate you.”
“You have a funny way of showing that you don’t hate me,” you whisper, eyebrows furrowing at him. At the insinuation.
He lets out a breath, and smiles slightly. “That’s my bad.”
You shake your head, and don’t fight the faint smile that comes onto your face as well. You continue to watch him as he moves carefully. It’s almost strange. Such a large man made of both flesh and metal, treating you as if you were the most delicate thing in the universe. His touch is barely a whisper against your skin, almost as if he is afraid pressure would make it all worse. Yet, he’s methodical. You suspect it has to do with his own experience from way before everything happened to him, when he was just a soldier fighting in a war for his country. Basic medical training for the field. 
“The soup didn’t burn you too bad,” he murmurs as he finishes up wrapping your feet. “Your skin is a bit angry right now, but it’s just irritated. It’ll go away. Should use a wet cloth to soothe though.”
“I’ll do that,” you say with a nod. 
Bucky’s no longer touching you, beginning to pack up the med kit and clean up the soiled materials that he used to fix you up. You find yourself missing the warmth that he previously had you wrapped in. Right now, he looks different from all the other times you have seen him. Is it the confession? The sudden heart to heart? You’re coming to realize the man in front of you isn’t so bad after all.
“I cut the numbers off of me,” you tell him. He pauses in his clean up, looking up at you once more. “There’s a small bomb in each enhanced’s neck. It’s what makes us unable to fight back. It’s why we’re stuck down there, in the auction, and why we get sold off. We rebel, our heads get blown off. Some of the kids down there decided that dying was better than being a slave.”
“Jesus, sweetheart,” he whispers, and your hands clenched into fists– just to give yourself a reminder that you’re real. To ground yourself back to reality. “You cut it out of yourself– of your neck?”
You let out a shaky breath, and swallowed. “Girls get sold for higher prices… and I wasn’t bought just for the enhancements. One day, my buyer messed up. Fell asleep in front of me, and had their weapons at the bedside table. I cut it out of my neck. With my last bits of remaining strength before I died, I took his life to heal myself. I was a kid. Couldn’t see or feel how deep the implant was. Then, free– I killed a lot of people fighting to get out of that mansion.”
Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. You blinked down at your hands, letting them relax. You examined the crescent shaped indents you left behind on the palms. You took one more breath before meeting his eyes, and forcing a smile on your face.
“I might be too close to this mission, but I need to see this auction burned to the ground,” you whisper. 
“I’ll hand you the match, then,” he answers, placing a hand on top of yours. He gently squeezes. The comfort that rushes through your body is almost immediate.
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The next two days are filled with planning. The kids are underground, and from the scans that Bucky was able to acquire, he counts there are about fifty kids. Less than what you thought, but it still makes your heart ache all the same. Only fifty made it to this point– there were countless others that were still in the lab, or died on those tables.
You would attend the auction, and have F.R.I.D.A.Y. scan each and every single guest to be sent back to base. When the time was right, each of them would be arrested and incarcerated. No one would be left without punishment here. 
The children would be rescued by you and other agents on standby outside the perimeter, waiting for your instructions to go in. They wouldn’t move unless they got the green light. No one wants to risk the bombs going off.
“Would you tell anyone if I killed Talbot?” you asked him the night before the auction. 
Since that night in the forest, the tension between the two of you had basically disappeared. Coupled with the fact that you two were speaking to each other, and eating every meal together– you were comfortable. It was scary how comfortable you got with him. 
You’d be lying if you said these two days weren’t filled with a strange tension. You were acutely aware of him. You always were, but this was different. You saw the way his eyes watched you, the way they scanned over your body slowly when you walked out of the bathroom after a shower. When you would look at him, and catch him staring– he wouldn’t look away. 
You noticed how his voice was softer now. More gentle. He wasn’t speaking down at you, but rather approaching you at a different angle. You’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t doing something to you. After him speaking to you in such an authoritative voice for so long, the quiet hush of his words brought a comfort to you that you didn’t know you would be able to feel with him. Then again– you were always at ease whenever you knew he was around. 
There were multiple times in the last couple days where the two of you brushed against each other. Whether or not it was a mistake or on purpose, it left goosebumps on your skin wherever he touched. 
Bucky took a long drink of his beer– one that you learned didn’t even do anything to him. He told you that he simply drank for the taste and nostalgia. The serum pumping through his veins made his metabolism burn through the alcohol.
“No,” he answered.
“You don’t think it makes me a bad person?” you press, tilting your head. Bucky snorts, shaking his head.
“If you’re a bad person, doll, then what am I?” he asks, rolling his eyes. You can only smile, then take your own drink of beer.
“Sweetheart. Doll. What else will you call me?” you ask, raising your eyebrow at him.
“Hate it?” he shoots right back, glancing at you.
“Not as much as you supposedly hate me,” you tease. He groans.
“Enough of that.” Bucky sighs deeply.
“You would say those nicknames with such malice, too,” you continue. “Really thought you were patronizing me or something.”
“My Ma’ would kill me if she ever heard I was talking to a lady like that,” he grunts, frowning.
“You’re a mama’s boy?” you ask, surprised.
“No,” he says, looking at you. “I had a little sister. I had to be a good example of what a gentleman was like. So, I treated women with respect and care– that way my sister had a nice foundation to use when she grew up and went out into the world to find herself a husband one day.”
You made a face. “I don’t think you respect me by calling me weak.”
“Okay,” Bucky says, rolling his eyes as he admits defeat. “I had an awful way of trying to get you out of the line of fire. You’re a walking 51-50 waiting to happen.”
“I don’t think you should be the one talking right now,” you point out, fighting the smile that was threatening to grow on your face.
“Well. Takes crazy to know crazy.” Bucky shrugs without a care. There’s a smile playing on his lips as well. “I’m surprised they don’t have you in some sort of mandated therapy.”
“Unlike you, I didn’t commit war crimes against the entire world, so,” you remind him. You watch as he contemplates your words, then nods in agreement. “Therapy may be helpful though.”
“Nah,” he denies immediately. “Don’t do it. Well– maybe my therapist just sucked.” 
“Ever thought about getting an emotional support animal instead?” you suggest. “You’re good at taking care of people, so maybe having a little kitten around would be more healing than trying to talk out your feelings with a stranger.”
“Me? Taking care of people? You’re really good at jokes, you know that?”
“I mean, I can count all the civil conversations we’ve had on one hand, but after we’ve cleared our misunderstanding, I think you’re a pretty decent person. Besides that, you’re not the only one that can observe the other.”
Bucky let out a small laugh, and smiled down at his bottle. “I noticed. Except, you were always killing me in your head when you looked at me. I guess I can’t blame you.”
The air between the two of you was nice. Comfortable. Both of you were sitting on the couch together. On the coffee table were the plans and maps of the auction house, a reminder of what was the beginning of the end of this madness. Beside it were remnants of the Chinese food that Bucky had picked up in the city, once again proclaiming that the safehouse food was too shitty to consume. You quickly realized that he was lying to you. Bucky just wanted to feed you good food.
“Don’t get hurt tomorrow,” Bucky says, making you look back at him. He’s already looking at you. There’s something soft in his eyes when he says the words, almost pleading.
“You can get hurt tomorrow,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood once more. “I’ll put you back to normal if you do.”
Bucky shakes his head. “I need you to steel your emotions tomorrow. There’s a chance we might not be able to save them all.”
“... I know,” you whisper, and nod once at him. 
“Don’t go trying to die in there either,” he warns. “I’ll yank you out of there before you can detonate with any fucking bomb.”
You crack a smile. “How romantic. Is this how you used to flirt with girls in the forties? Were you raised on the belief that boys who were mean to girls had a crush on them?”
“You’re not as dense as I thought,” he grunts.
“You’re not denying it, you know?" You raise an eyebrow at him then clarify, "That you hold a candle for me in your heart.”
“I’m not a liar, doll.”
“I get a free pass to throw you on the mat when we get back home. To make up for all the times you had me on my back,” you say, and down the rest of your beer. It’s a flimsy attempt to try and distract yourself from the butterflies in your stomach. “Let’s call it the start of your courtship.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “Just because I have the smallest crush on you doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you. I push you hard for your own safety.”
“Fine. I’ll just go back to avoiding and ignoring you when we get back,” you huff, turning away from him again. You can see him tense out of the corner of your eye. 
“One time,” he finally relents. “Just once.”
You grin and look at him. “Only a small crush?” you ask, tilting your head. Bucky stares at you for a few moments before clearing his throat and looking away. You swear there’s a slight tint of pink on his cheeks that you know cannot be blamed on the alcohol.
“Shut the hell up.”
“Can’t admit how much you like me, Barnes?” you ask, humming. “Should I text Nat and ask her how often you stare at me when I’m in the room?”
“Yeah?” Bucky sits up straighter. “I don’t recall you denying her question when she asked you whether you’re trying to decide if you wanna make out with me or fuck me.”
The grin is wiped off your face and transferred onto his. He looks smug now, enjoying your reaction.
“I hate assassins,” you whisper in disbelief. “You were listening? I thought you fucking left!”
“You were having an abnormally loud conversation,” he says with a shrug. “And if I’m not mistaken– you’ve also been quite mean to me. Seems that I’m not the only one with a crush. I might be the only one between the two of us to admit it, though.”
You could only stare at him, feeling your face warm. You could say it was the alcohol– something that he couldn’t do. Your pride was getting in the way again. There was something in his voice that irritated you to no end.
“I never not said it,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not a liar either, Sergeant.”
“Sergeant, huh?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at you teasingly. 
You roll your eyes at him. “Shut the hell up, Barnes. I really could just go back to pretending you don’t exist. Maybe I’ll pick fights with you again. For fun this time, since I know how you feel.”
“Yeah? And how do I feel?”
“You like me. Romantically. Maybe you wanna kiss me as much as I do,” you challenged.
“Oh, sweetheart, I wanna do more than just kiss you,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 
“Then why don’t you?” you ask, tilting your head. It’s his turn to pause, to stare at you. You know you’re daring him– pushing him now. And you’re waiting with bated breath to see if he pulls through. 
Part of you wonders if he actually does like you, or if you've been somehow misinterpreting his words this entire time. That was always the possibility. After all, it was only last week that you were cursing out the man into hell.
After a few more beats pass between you two without any movement, you let out a small huff and stand. You grab your plate and your empty bottle, heading towards the kitchen.
“Knew you were full of shit, Barnes,” you say, throwing the tease over your shoulder as you go to clean up your mess. 
You often forget how quiet Bucky is when he wants to be. You barely got the plate in the sink before he’s behind you— both hands on either side of your body, caging you in against the sink as he presses his chest to your back. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating against yours, the thump of his heartbeat. Then, his lips are near your ear.
“Would you let me?” 
His voice is barely above a whisper. If he wasn’t so close, you wouldn’t have heard him. You wouldn’t have been able to pick up on the husk of the words, the slight desperation behind it. You can only swallow before you nod once. A metal hand slides over your waist, pulling you even closer to his body.
“Gotta hear you say it,” he murmurs, dropping his forehead to your shoulder.
“Yes.”
A moment passes between you before his lips press against the side of your neck. You let out a sigh at the feel. It’s exactly like when he tended to your wounds– a ghost of a touch, barely brushing against your skin. Almost as if he’s afraid to hold you closer. 
“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nod again, leaning into him. Bucky hums, and then he shifts a little. He moves your hair out of the way, and presses a soft kiss to the scar on the back of your neck. You tense slightly at the feeling, and he feels it. Immediately, he rubs circles into your waist with his fingers, trying to comfort you. You let out a shaky breath, and allow him a few more kisses at the sensitive spot before turning in his arms.
“All you’re gonna do is kiss my neck?” you ask quietly, resting your arms on his shoulders.
“If that’s all you want,” he replies, and you know he means it. He won't go any further if you tell him not to. You shake your head.
“No. Want more,” you tell him, and his grip on you tightens just slightly. He’s hesitating, and you can feel it. You decide to move forward, to close the remaining distance between the two of you.
His lips are soft, just as you thought they would be. They feel even better against your own. You give him one soft kiss, just to test the waters, but he comes back for another one. Bucky fully crowds your space, his flesh hand cupping your face as he tilts your head upwards to him, to make it easier for him to deepen the kiss. 
You sigh against him, relaxing in his embrace. He’s warm. This is the same warmth you felt in the forest, the same warmth he gave you when he wrapped your wounds. You were certain he would continue to wrap you in this warmth if you gave him the chance.
Bucky’s tongue swipes against your bottom lip, just slightly, quietly asking for entry. You grant it, and meet his tongue with your own. He lets out a soft groan against your mouth, and the feel and sound of him sends shockwaves through your body. You want more of him– you want him closer to you. 
He seems to feel the same, both hands reaching to pull you upwards, easily taking you into his arms. Your legs rest on either side of him now, and your ankles lock behind his back to help hold yourself in place as he begins to move out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom. 
All the while, he never stops kissing you. Your lips, your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone. By the end of the night, you’re certain that there will no longer be a part of your body that Bucky has not claimed as his.
You’re gently laid down onto your back with such care it almost makes you want to cry. He hovers above you, a hand stopping just below the hem of your shirt. He’s touching your skin directly, but not moving any further. He’s pressing himself onto you, and you can feel his growing length against your thigh. You need more of him. You push on his chest, freeing yourself momentarily.
“Shit– I’m sorry–” he quickly scrambles to say, but you cut him off with the swift removal of your shirt. 
“Your turn,” you tell him, tugging on his t-shirt. His eyes trail over you, the exposed skin you graced him with, and he wets his lips before nodding wordlessly. 
“Yes, ma’am,” he finally speaks when he finds his words. You smile– Bucky’s a soldier through and through. 
After discarding his shirt somewhere behind him, he descends upon you once more. His hands are touching you again, this time without anything stopping him. The metal has already warmed up from its constant tracing of your body, from kneading your breast while his mouth takes hold of the opposite. You let out a needy whine, hands threading through his hair as you close your eyes.
He nips at your skin, making you jump briefly before looking back down at him.
“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he whispers to you. His eyes seem darker– pupils blown out and swallowing the steely blue eyes that you adore. The pure need all over his face makes you shudder, and your heart jumps in your chest again as you nod at him. 
You feel him before you see him. His hand trailing down to the waistband of your shorts, then dipping down and beneath the fabric. 
“Bucky,” you sigh as his fingers come into contact with your core. He’s ghosting again; simply spreading your slick over your folds to get a feel of your arousal. He lets out a soft moan, and swallows thickly.
“All this for me? I’m flattered,” he tells you with a small smirk.
“Bucky,” you say again, with more desperation. 
“I could probably slide right in without even doing anything to prepare you,” he continues, trailing kisses up your chest. “You want that? You want me to stretch you and fill you with my cock?”
Despite his words, he presses a single digit into your entrance. You let out a gasp, your hips bucking to meet his hand. Bucky coos in your ear, the heel of his palm pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves to stimulate it just a little as you grind against his hand.
“Don’t tease me,” you whine, though relishing in the way he nips at the space just below your ear. 
“Need you to tell me you want me, doll,” he hums.
“Your hand is in my shorts, and you still need me to say it?” you ask, dumbfounded. 
“What’s with the sudden attitude?” Bucky clicks his tongue in disapproval, and a second finger joins in, making you moan. He hums, satisfied with your reaction. “I like you better when you’re like this.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers find a slow, lazy pace to thrust in and out of you.
“That’s the plan. Did you forget–” Bucky pulls out his fingers until only the tips are left inside, before slamming them hard inside of you. You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips, and you grab onto his arms for support. "-to keep your eyes on me?”
You comply because what else are you supposed to do? He has you under him, at his mercy, and you simply need more of him. Bucky can see it on your face, the way you’ll fall apart for him. He’s craving it.
“Good girl,” he whispers, humming with approval now.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you tell him, though your body is betraying your words. Bucky only smiles in response, and catches your lips with his own. His fingers leave you moments later, and you find yourself regretting your comment. You’re about to pull away, and take it back when he starts sliding both your shorts and underwear down your legs in one fluid motion. 
You didn’t even realize he had taken off his sweatpants earlier. 
“Not so annoying now, huh, sweetheart?” he chuckles against your lips.
“Can you shut the fuck up and fuck me?” you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
Bucky pulls away from you. You’re breathless, confused, and looking at him. He has his hands planted on either side of your head, and he’s staring at you. His face is suddenly serious. It makes your heart stutter with anxiety.
“This can’t be a one time thing,” he whispers, his jaw clenching. “If you don’t feel the same about me– I can’t do this.”
“Wouldn’t even let you touch me like this if I didn’t feel the same way,” you tell him, reaching to touch his face. Bucky lets out a breath, one of relief, as he leans into your touch. His eyes close as his head drops just slightly, like the weight of the world had just been lifted off of his shoulders. “You still need to let me throw you on the mat. Want you on your back.”
“You can have me on my back anytime you want, doll. Right now, you’re staying on yours,” he replies, and comes back down to you.
He’s warm. Extremely warm. His skin is on fire, but you’re not sure if that’s heat that’s radiating off of him or if it’s you. Either way, you feel like you’re about to explode when he finally presses into you. Bucky’s forehead presses against yours, mouth agape as he slowly stretches through your walls. 
“Tight,” he grunts, hands on your hips tightening, “so fuckin’ hot and wet– God, doll. You tryna kill me here?”
“Maybe,” you manage to answer him. You’re struggling as much as he is. The stretch is delicious. He’s just as long as he is girthy, and he really didn’t do much to prepare you earlier– but it makes it all the more pleasurable. 
He takes a few moments to breathe when he finally bottoms out, pelvis pressed right against yours before he sets the pace. It’s slow, calculated. He’s savoring every inch of you, not wanting to miss a single moment. It’s driving you insane in the best way possible. You can feel every vein in every thrust, every twitch and every jump of his cock as you clench around him.
Bucky never stops praising you throughout. 
“So pretty,” he says, eyes roaming all over your body as one hand lets go of your hip to begin to thumb at your clit. You gasp at the feeling– the contrast of tight, quick, small circles being rubbed against the slow and controlled movements of his hips. “So good for me.”
“Shit, Bucky,” you moan, fingernails digging into his shoulders. He groans at the feeling, eyes closing briefly before he opens them and looks between you two– looks at the connecting point where one of you starts and the other ends. 
There’s nothing rough or hard about the moment. He doesn’t take you like a wild animal– he’s cradling you in his arms and holding you tight, letting you feel exactly what you do to him. You feel warm under his gaze. 
It’s only a matter of time before your release catches up to you, and threatens to shove you over the edge. Bucky can feel it– the fluttering of your walls and the way your body is beginning to tense under his. 
“There you go, doll,” he urges, panting. There’s a sheen of sweat on his body as he swallows, taking in the full sight of you. “Let go. Wanna see you fall apart under me.”
You can’t deny him what he asks you so nicely for. 
Moments after, Bucky follows you right off the same cliff. You feel his thrusts grow sloppier, hear his breaths go ragged, and then the warmth of his orgasm filling you completely full. 
He’s kissing you throughout the whole thing, continuing to sing your praises as he rides out his high before he pulls you into his arms with his cock softening inside you. You almost whimper at the feeling of him leaving you. 
Bucky’s hand is in your hair, massaging your scalp and the base of your skull as he holds you to his chest. You sigh into him, closing your eyes as you let his warmth once again wrap around you and keep you safe. 
“I like you,” you finally confess to him, your voice just barely above a whisper. Bucky lets out a laugh, the rumble of his chest comforting you as you listen.
“I figured,” he chuckles. “I like you, too.”
“Mhm. I know,” you say with a grin. Bucky shakes his head, but you’re certain that there’s a smile on his face.
“Rest up, sweetheart. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
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Your ears are ringing, and the world is spinning around you. You can’t see properly. Everything seems blurred for some reason. There’s two, maybe four of everything around you. In the distance, you can hear the sound of crackling and fire, and someone screaming out your name. You blink slowly, or at least you think you are. Time is moving at an unnatural speed.
All at once, everything comes crashing back to you, just as you are brought back to your feet, hands on your arms. Bucky is in front of you, a gash on his head with blood rushing down the side of his temple. Worry is painted all over his features, and you’re unsure why. He’s saying things to you, but you can’t understand him. You can’t hear him over the ringing. From the shape of his lips, it looks like he’s saying your name.
Bucky gets increasingly frustrated, but you do have to admit he still looks handsome even like this. There’s dirt and soot on him, along with sweat on his brow from how he must have been fighting his way down to you, down to the cells.
Fighting?
You gasp sharply as reality hits you once more, steadying yourself in his grasp. 
“You back with me, doll?” he asks, his voice gruff.
“Yeah, yeah,” you nod quickly, and immediately regret the movement. You close your eyes tight, trying to will away the dizzy spell that comes over you.
“Fuck happened here?” Bucky whispers, looking around. “Where are the enhanced–”
Bucky cuts himself off, and looks back at you. Your jaw is clenched as you stare down at your feet. Your breath is ragged. You’re trembling in his arms. You’re injured in several areas, but you’re alive. That’s more than you can say for the fifty children that you came down here for.
“Where’s Talbot?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Apprehended,” Bucky answers. “He… mentioned another kill switch. I ran down here to try to warn you, but I heard the explosion...”
You laugh dryly, nodding. Just moments ago, the kids were crying to you. You were telling them you had the release on their necks– that they were free. They were safe now. One of them asked about the one in their hearts. Your blood ran cold, and you froze. You didn’t even have time to turn around and search. The first child exploded in front of your eyes, and the rest followed like a chain reaction.
“There was another one. In their chest. They put another fucking one.” 
“It’s not your fault, doll,” he whispers, and you shake your head. You don’t want to hear it right now. You can’t do this.
“We need to get out of here,” you say, changing the topic. “We’re several feet underground and that explosion definitely fucked up the infastructure. We’ll be buried if we don’t leave soon.”
Bucky doesn’t waste a second before scooping you in his arms, and sprinting to where he came from. You don’t fight him this time, either. Your body is protesting from just his movements alone as he carries you. There has to be a broken rib or two in your body, along with another fracture somewhere in your leg. You were too close to the explosion. Whether you like it or not, your enhancements wouldn’t let you die so easily. 
The lights above ground let you know the operation was a success, all things considered. The mastermind was taken in. Now, they would be able to go through his personal assets and find out where his labs were and put an end to everything. Maybe they would be able to free those children.
You don’t think you would ever be free of the faces of the kids that you saw down there.
You’re carried into the jet, and you vaguely hear Bucky say that your part of the mission is over with. The two of you would be heading home now– you both sustained injuries that require immediate attention. It’s only then that you snap out of your own head.
You look at him– really look at him. There’s more than just the blood on his head. There’s a bruise and cut on his cheek. His tactical gear is ripped and cut open in some places. There’s dark spots on his body that could or could not be his own blood. You see the slight limp in his walk when he finally sets you down in a seat. 
The two of you are in the air before you know it, a heavy silence between the two of you. Bucky’s across from you. His eyes are closed shut, head leaning back against the wall of the jet. You know what he’s thinking of, too. 
Then, you shift. You ignore the sharp pain in your body screaming at you, and you sit down next to him. He opens his eyes to look at you, questioning. Then, he sees it. The soft golden glow from under your palms, and the change of colors in your irises.
“No, sweetheart,” he says, shaking his head as he tries to lower your hands. “Save your energy. Your injuries are a hell of a lot worse than mine.”
“Let me help someone tonight,” you whisper– no, you beg him. Bucky’s lips part, and he lets out a shaky breath before he relaxes in his seat. He doesn’t make a move to argue with you again.
You let your hands hover over his temples first, concentrating your powers on the gash on his head while also reaching for the rest of his body. You can see it. The broken rib, the fractured wrist, the sprained ankle. There’s multiple, deep cuts on his body from when he must’ve gone against several armed guards, and maybe a few older enhanced humans. 
Slowly but surely, each pathway to the injury closes off. You can see the stiffness in his body disappear, the crease in his forehead begin to smooth out as you take his pain away. You reverse the damage that had been done to him, and you save one person tonight.
When he opens his eyes, you watch as his face softens. He reaches for you now, hands cupping your face. His thumbs brush right under your eyes, wiping away tears that you didn’t know had fallen.
Just like that, you crumble and fall apart in his arms. He holds you tight on the way home, careful of the injuries that he isn’t sure you have, but keeps his hold strong to ground you all the same. He’s the only one listening as you wail in the jet, and no words pass between the two of you.
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When you arrived at the base, there was already a gurney and team of medical staff waiting for your landing. Bucky carried you out of the jet, and laid you there, barking out orders to hurry up and get you examined. 
You spent a week in the medical ward. Dr. Cho was flown out from Seoul to take care of you, and get you back into shape as soon as possible. 
“It’s not what you can do, but it’s the next best thing,” she told you with a gentle smile.
In that same week, you denied all visitors to your room. You wanted to be alone. You got alerts from F.R.I.D.A.Y. that each of the team members had tried visiting at least once, but you didn’t allow access. Even to Bucky– who came by every single day. Sometimes, he came multiple times a day. It was only Fury who came in, the only person that you couldn’t just turn away without proper reason. 
“The labs have been found,” he informed you as you stared at the pristine white sheets you were under. “Another hundred kids were taken in, all under the age of twelve. All of them are alive, as they haven’t had the final stage of the experiments done to them yet. They’re in recovery in a safe location to rehabilitate.”
“And their parents?” you asked him, your voice small.
“We’re working on locating all of them,” Fury said. “Along with all the parents of the deceased.”
You nodded slowly, biting the inside of your cheek. “I want to quit.”
“Rejected,” he denied immediately. Your head snapped up to him, and he’s staring at you with a raised eyebrow. “Those kids need someone that understands what they have been through to teach them how to live. How to survive the shit they’ve been through.”
You pause, the words weighing in your mind. “I killed them, Fury,” you whispered, desperation in your voice. You feel like crying again. “I– I don’t even know how to survive the shit that I’ve been through!” 
“Give it some thought. If you really want to quit, come talk to me after you’re discharged,” he told you, then turned to leave.
You’re discharged within another week. In that same week, Tony bypasses the order you gave to F.R.I.D.A.Y. and storms into your room with a gown in hand. He’s throwing another party– one to celebrate you and Bucky’s successful mission and to gather donations for the rehabilitation center for the children.
You really tried to skip out of it, tell him that you weren’t interested in a party after everything that you’d been through. You even asked him if he read the mission report. 
“I did,” he said with a nod. “And all I can say is that I’ve fucked up, too. I have blood on my hands that I’ll never be able to wash away. You, me– all of us on this team. We’re all the same.”
“Tony, please,” you begged. “I can’t just go to a party after that.”
“Then, don’t think of it as a party for your honor,” Tony said, and hung the dress up across from your hospital bed. “Think of it as a distraction. One night to get away from the demons in your head, to enjoy yourself. You deserve a break, too.”
You couldn’t fight against him on that. Not when you realize that he was just trying to cheer you up in the only way that he knew how to. 
The party is the first time you see the rest of the team since your departure for the mission. Once again, no one asks questions. No one pries. You’re certain they all read the mission report, and they know why you requested for the time to be alone while you healed. 
The girls greeted you with a smile, Natasha immediately mixing you a drink of something fruity that was strong, but not strong enough to make you dull the ache in your chest as you watched the world continue to spin around you without you moving in it. 
“Barnes has been distracted these past two weeks,” Natasha says, bumping your hip with her as you stand at the bar in between her and Wanda. “He jumps at the mention of your name.”
“Just worried,” you say with a sigh.
“Sure, but he never was like that before. Did something happen while you two were out on the field?” Wanda grins at you. 
You want to smile at them. You really do. You want to indulge in the girl talk. You want to feel the embarrassment and shyness as you confess that you do have feelings for Bucky and that you both had acted upon those feelings, but you just can’t.
It was nothing against Bucky, or anything that he did. You don’t feel worthy of those feelings for him. The last two weeks of silence, of being in your own head– you realize that the words he used to spit at you with fire may have been more true than you wanted to admit.
You were a liability. You were too close to the mission. You were emotional and reckless– you didn’t double, triple check the situation. You wanted to be a hero, to save lives. At the end of it, you didn’t even walk out of there on your own two feet. 
You didn’t even succeed in your own mission– to save the hostages. He succeeded in his– to apprehend Talbot. He was right, at the end of the day. You knew he was. Even if he had already reassured you, whispered to you in your ear that he didn’t mean it like that, you were starting to believe there was someone out there that did. 
How could you face him now?
You excuse yourself, murmuring something about fresh air. You ignore the way both of the girls share a look with each other, and let your feet carry you out the door to the rooftop. 
You sat out on the terrace, watching the skyline. The compound was far away from the city, but you were still able to see the twinkling lights in the distance.
Here, you thought about everything. Your place. Your thoughts were taking a dangerous turn. You no longer felt worthy of this team. Of having these powers that could help people when nothing you did aided. You didn’t feel worthy of the feelings that Bucky had for you– the respect and care and worry that he secretly held all this time.
“Been waiting everyday at the gym for you to throw me, you know?” 
Just his voice alone was enough to melt away the self loathing that you threw yourself into. You looked over your shoulder, seeing him walk towards you, a hand in his pocket, a whiskey glass in the other. 
“Been drafting up my resignation letter,” you respond softly. “Don’t think we need to continue training anymore.”
Bucky comes up beside you, placing his glass beside yours on the ledge. He lets out a breath as he leans against the stone, and looks at you.
“I’m really not good at comforting people, doll. Can you help me out here?” he asks. He’s trying to make the tone light. Trying to cheer you up.
You give him a tight smile, and shake your head. “I couldn’t save them.”
“If you’re going to blame anyone, blame me. My earpiece– it broke. Got knocked out. I couldn’t reach you fast enough. If I was more careful–”
“I should’ve done more research,” you cut him off. Bucky looks helpless at your words. “It was my mission. Not yours… And it will haunt me forever.”
Bucky lets out a deep breath through his nose, then wets his lips. Thinking. Then, he reaches for your hand, tugging on it. He’s pulling you away– bringing you somewhere else.
“What are you doing?” you ask. Your voice sounds tired. It doesn’t sound like you.
“I can’t make the nightmares go away,” he whispers, looking down briefly as he continues to lead you away from the edge of the terrace. “I can’t make it all stop hurting, but I was sent on that mission with you as your dance partner. We didn’t even dance. You're gonna let me fail at the mission given to me, sweetheart?” 
You can’t help the laugh that exits your lips as he brings you to the middle of the rooftop. He smiles at the sound, and stops before you. He guides your hands onto his shoulders, then comfortably rests his on your waist.
“Just for right now, you and I can forget all the bad stuff,” he says.
“Is that really okay?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to meet his. He shrugs a little, and smiles more.
“They’re playing our song right now, doll. Can’t be sad when we’re together,” he tells you, and leads you in a dance. 
The music from inside is loud enough to carry outdoors, to where the two of you are. At this moment, you let Bucky take the lead. He holds you against him as you sway together, breaking away only for a moment so he can take your hand and spin you around like a princess in a movie. The action makes you giggle just a little bit, and you miss the soft look in his eyes as he watches you. 
You don’t know how much time has passed like this– with him. All you know is your head is against his chest, fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. He’s humming along to the song as he leans his own head against yours. You can feel his heart beating, and distinctly realize yours is beating in the same time. 
“Stay here. Stay with me,” he finally speaks, breaking the silence between the two of you. 
You’re quiet for a few moments. The pain won’t go away in one night. Bucky isn’t claiming that he can make it disappear, either… but being in his arms dulls the ache in a way that you know that you can’t do by yourself.
“Will you complain if I go on a mission with you again?”
Bucky lets out a small laugh before lifting his head, pulling back to look at your face. A hand comes to cup your face. “How long will you be holding that against me?”
“Depends on how long you think we have together,” you respond, leaning into his touch. 
“Forever, then,” he confirms, smiling down at you before the familiar feel of his lips press against yours. 
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taglist: @duacruel @natsomens **let me know if you would like to be added to a general bucky taglist for whenever i post a fic for him :)**
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 23 days ago
Text
Declassified [7] - Whiskey
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: Alcohol leads to honest promises.
Warnings: Explicit language, drinking, angst, yearning.
Word Count: 5050
Series Masterlist
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After Bucky’s win, you and the rest of the team had about two months to move to DC.
And needless to say, things were quite chaotic.
“I’m telling you, the best way to get over a relationship is a new city,” Kelsey said while you kept your eyes on the computer screen, and Caleb laid on his back on top of his desk, scrolling on his phone. “So you scheduled your break up perfectly.”
“I did not schedule my break up, Kels,” you muttered and paused for a moment. “Although, it is a good idea if I ever decide to date again.”
“You will date again.”
“Not anytime soon.” You turned the screen to her. “What do we think about this apartment?”
“What are you guys doing here?” Bucky’s voice reached you and you all turned to him, Caleb sitting up as he entered the bullpen to approach your desk. You tried to ignore how fast your heartbeat got when he smiled at you, and you nodded at him before forcing yourself to turn your gaze to the screen again.
Play it cool.
“We figured we’d pay our respects to the office before we closed it down,” Kelsey said. “What are you doing here?”
“Sarah says the boys forgot a toy figurine here somewhere,” Bucky said. “Came to look for it, couldn’t find it—you are not supposed to be working this week.”
“We’re not working.”
“So you decided to come to the office that we’re closing down on your time off just because?”
You tilted your head. “That sounds like judgment from the man who’s standing in the same bullpen as we are.”
“That’s probably because I am judging,” Bucky pointed out. “And I have an actual reason to be here.”
“So do we,” you said. “We were feeling sentimental and the wifi here is better—Kels, the apartment?”
Kelsey took a peek at the screen. “Meh, maybe. Depends on which one would be my room. Caleb?”
“I don’t care as long as the living room is big,” Caleb said and Bucky looked between you, his brows pulling into a frown.
“You’re moving in together?”
“Mm hm.”
“All three of you?”
“You know how people bond in prison and stuff?” Caleb asked. “Turns out, the same thing happens when you work in politics.”
“I don’t know DC, Caleb has student loans and Birdie has just got out of a relationship,” Kelsey said. “We figured all three of us together equal one functional member of society.”
That made Bucky pause for a second, his gaze on you warming your cheeks while you forced yourself to keep your attention on the screen.
 “And are you okay?” he asked. “With the break up?”
…Fine.
Things with Bucky were still a little weird.
He was still dating Hazel, who did not like you, and sailing through this break up while also trying to change cities was not doing your anxiety any favors. Kelsey had a point, you did not think you could stay alone at least for a while, especially when your crush on Bucky was evolving every goddamn day.
Who was, to repeat, in a relationship.
“Yeah,” you said. “Yeah I’m fine, I only cried for like two hours yesterday.”
“That’s why we’re getting you a new guy—”
“Already?”
 That made all of you turn to Bucky and he blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat.
“I just mean…” He motioned vaguely. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with waiting a little. You just broke up with the guy.”
“I downloaded a bunch of apps after I broke up with my last boyfriend, and we weren’t even together for the quarter of time she was with that asshole,” Kelsey stated and Bucky’s frown deepened.
“You’re on apps now?”
“I’m not on anything except real estate sites,” you announced and if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought the exhale that left Bucky’s lips was one of relief. “And I’m not dating anyone for a while.”
“Birdie, you need to go on a couple of dates to at least catch up.”
Bucky made a face. “Catch up?”
 “Look at her, she’s like a newborn deer!” Caleb reached out to squeeze your cheeks “All clueless about how hard it is out there!”
You batted his hand away.
“I will kick your ass if I have to,” you grumbled, clicking on another listing while Kelsey nodded solemnly.
“She is a newborn deer and there are wolves out there, Bucky.”
“Don’t ask why they’re like this because I don’t have a good answer,” you told Bucky who scoffed a laugh as you pulled open your drawer to pull out a file. “By the way, I forgot to put it in the boxes and we sent most of them away. Want me to drop it off at your place later on?”
“Would you?”
“Oh yeah, I have to go to the bank around the neighborhood anyway. No problem.”
“You still have my key, right?”
“Mm hm,” you said and checked the time. “You should get going by the way. You have that lunch thing.”
“Hold on, how did you…?”
“Checking your calendar is muscle memory at this point, I do it every day.”
“To repeat, you’re supposed to be relaxing, not working.”
“And you’re supposed to be on your way to lunch.” You shot him a smug grin. “So how about you worry about the material of your own house instead of throwing stones?”  
Bucky held up his hands, gesturing surrender.
“Let me know if you see any toy figurines here?”
“Will do!” you said as he walked away and Caleb laid down on the desk again, then rolled onto his side.
“We all agree that he wants you, right?”
“He wants his girlfriend, Caleb.”
“In his defense, you had a boyfriend when he got himself a girlfriend,” Kelsey said, making your jaw clench. “He can’t just drop her the moment you break up with your boyfriend.”
“He can, actually.” Caleb commented and Kelsey shook her head.
“I was with the guy 24/7 during the election time, so trust me, he won’t. He was raised to be the perfect 40s gentleman, things worked differently when it came to relationships back then, so he thinks he can’t, at least not right now. If we look at it from his perspective—”
“We’re not going to look at anything from his perspective because there’s nothing to look at.” You cut her off, then turned the screen to her again. “Check this out?”
                                                  *
You liked Bucky’s apartment.
You didn’t know if it was because there were many things that looked like they didn’t belong to this century or the scent of him that lingered, but whenever you visited you always felt relaxed.
“Hi Alpine.” You bent down to pet the white furball when she came to greet you at the door with a meow. “Aren’t you the prettiest princess? Hm? Aren't you the cutest kitty?”
She purred, bumping her head on your ankle.
“I got you your favorite treat, just give me one sec,” you said as you made your way to Bucky’s study to put the file on his desk, and Alpine darted back to the hallway. You approached the phonograph at the corner of the room to take a peek at the records, running your fingertips over a Ella Fitzgerald record before the sound of keys jingling reached your ears, making your head whip around when you heard your name being spat in distaste.
“No I’m telling you, I don’t trust her,” Hazel’s voice was clear as the door closed and your eyes widened.
“Shit…” you whispered, looking around in frenzy before you rushed to the desk to get under it, her footsteps going past the study.
Alright.
Maybe you had not thought this through.
There was no way you could just announce your presence now, and judging by how angry she had said your name, you figured it would’ve made things even more awkward than they already were.
Trust Bucky to give his keys three months into the relationship.
“No I just dropped by his place, I forgot my fucking—oh here it is.” Her voice got closer before she entered the study and flung herself on the couch, making you grimace.
Fuck.
Through the small crack, you could see her putting her phone on the small coffee table by the couch before she stretched out.
“I’m so tired.”
“I just think you’re stressed out over nothing,” A female voice said from the speaker and Hazel groaned.
“It’s not nothing,” she insisted. “I’m telling you, she wants him. And if you saw that hug…”
Jesus Christ, what was it with everyone and that hug?
“It was just a hug.”
“He has never hugged me like that,” Hazel replied. “He didn’t even hug me like that that night!”
“I’d say he hugged you plenty for the rest of the night,” A laugh echoed in the room and Hazel scoffed.
“Sex with Bucky…” she trailed off, making your heart skip a beat. “Trust me, that’s a whole new level but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
Great. This was just great.
Not only were you crushing on your boss, you now had to listen to the said boss’s sex life with his girlfriend while you were hiding from the aforementioned girlfriend under his desk.
All because you had to be nice and volunteer to drop that file off while he wasn’t home.
“Bucky has this wall around him.” Hazel’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “And no matter how perfect the sex is, the moment you so much as approach that wall, he just shuts down.”
Your eyes widened when you saw Alpine peek her head around the desk before she happily jumped into your lap, pushing at your folded legs.
“What are you doing?” you mouthed as if she could answer you, but she only head-butted your knee, then blinked up at you, making you run a hand over your face before you started scratching at her head.
This was not what you had imagined when you applied for a job in politics.
“And you know how it is,” she said. “Young female aide gives him puppy dog eyes whenever he’s around and the next thing you know…”
Alpine gave you a quizzical look and you rolled your eyes, then shook your head.
“I get it, but she’s been around him for a while now and nothing happened.”
“She has a boyfriend.”
Ah.
Bucky hadn’t told her about your breakup then.
“And he has a girlfriend,” her friend insisted. “A hot, successful, wealthy girlfriend, he’s not gonna throw that away for some dumb girl. And besides, you’re much hotter.”
The interesting thing was that Kelsey had said the exact same thing about you just a week ago.
“I don’t know,” Hazel said with a sigh. “I feel like I’m trespassing sometimes. Maybe he doesn’t actually like me. I mean, even his cat doesn’t like me.”
You looked down at Alpine who was kneading your leg while purring and ran your fingers through her soft fur.
“It’s a damn cat, Haze.”
Hazel scoffed a laugh. “I know it’s been only three months but I really like him, you know?”
Oh, you definitely knew the feeling.
“And I want to make it work, but I’m not sure if I can if she’s in the picture,” she said. “Not to mention they’ll both be in DC—”
“His whole team is moving there, not just her,” her friend reminded her. “And if she’s bothering you that much, just tell Bucky to fire her.”
That made your hand stop mid-air.
Excuse you?
“I mentioned it to him the other day,” Hazel said, making your jaw drop. “And at first he genuinely thought it was a joke as if even the idea is unthinkable, so he laughed it off but when he saw I was serious, it got kind of…tense.”
“Tense?”
“He just shut it down, refused to even talk about it, and he was so cold that—it’s like she’s his line in the sand. Untouchable.”
“No she’s not,” her friend said. “Honestly, I doubt he even thinks about her outside work. He just wants to keep her because she is good at her job, nothing more.”
Hazel rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna tell you something but you can’t call me paranoid.”
“Shoot.”
“I’m not sure but last night it kind of sounded like he muttered her name in his sleep.”
Her friend’s laugh was loud enough to cover the small gasp that left your lips, making you put your hand over mouth and you closed your eyes shut, half expecting Hazel to approach the table but thankfully, she hadn’t heard it.
“Paranoid.”
“It really sounded like that!”
“As I said, you’re being paranoid,” she said. “Haze, relax. The great Bucky Barnes is all yours, with or without that starry-eyed girl in the picture.”
That made you bite inside your cheek, the familiar ache twisting your stomach and she got up from the couch, making your head whip up.
“Gotta go, I’ll call you later,” she said and hung up, then walked out of the study before you heard the front door open, and close again.
Relief hit you so hard that you felt dizzy, and you let out a breath before carefully lifting Alpine from your lap to come out from under the desk.
“Well that was a new low, wasn’t it?” you muttered and turned to Alpine. “Come on, I’ll give you your food in the kitchen.”
Alpine followed you to the kitchen and jumped on the kitchen island as you rummaged through your purse to take out a can of wet food. You opened it and put it in front of her, and she dug in while you heaved a sigh, trailing your fingers over her fur.
“You know, contrary to what she thinks, I am not dumb,” you said. “I get why she doesn’t like me. I don’t like her either, but mine is because of the jealousy that Bucky is dating her, which I know, I know; that’s very immature and I shouldn’t do it but come on, she wants to get me fired.”
Alpine didn’t even lift her head.
“She asked him to fire me!” you insisted. “There’s a line, seriously. I would never do that, regardless of how jealous I was. You don’t fuck with people’s jobs.”
Unsurprisingly, Alpine was more interested in her food than your rambling.
“Your father doesn’t like me that way, for the record,” you added. “And I do not give anyone puppy dog eyes, okay? That’s just how I look at people.”
She finished her food and raised her head, licking around her mouth and you huffed out, then threw the can in the trash.
“I’ll bring you another one the next time if you promise not to tell your dad.”
“Mrow?”
“Good, you got yourself a deal,” you said and pressed a kiss on the top of her head, then grabbed your purse and walked out of the apartment.
                                                *
Going into the bank, getting stuff done and getting out was supposed to be fast but you could hardly focus on anything, your mind still replaying what Hazel had said about Bucky saying your name in his sleep over and over again. You wondered whether there was even a slight chance it was anything close to your dreams because more than once you had woken up, breathing out Bucky’s name, your whole body on fire, your mind fuzzy—
No way.
Bucky dreaming about you only existed in Hazel’s mind, nothing more.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you barely heard someone calling out your name, but as soon as you did, your head whipped around.
What in the goddamn fuck was with you running into people in this city at the most inconvenient time possible?
“Hi Tessa,” you said, plastering a smile on your face. “What a coincidence.”
“Hi,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to other. “How have you been? Max mentioned…”
She trailed off, averting her eyes from you and you waved a hand in the air.
“Oh I’m totally fine. How about you?”
“I’m good,” she said. “I saw Barnes won the election, that’s great! I voted for him.”
“Aw thanks,” you said. “Max didn’t but um—I appreciate it.”
“He didn’t?”
“Nope,” you said. “Long story. How about you, how is work?”
“It’s good. So since he won, are you gonna move to DC?”
“Yeah.”
“Should be fun,” she said. “Listen, I know you barely know me but I know how stressful this whole thing can be, so if you need anything about the moving stuff, just let me know.”
“Thank you so much,” you said and she waved a hand in the air, then stepped in to hug you, the heavy perfume tickling the bridge of your nose, making you grimace.
That somehow smelled familiar—
Oh.
Oh, that motherfucker…
You could feel your jaw clench as the realization dawned on you, and she pulled back to smile at you.
“I shouldn’t keep you long, I’m sure you have so much to do,” she said. “But like I said, anything I can do, let me know.”
You gawked at her for a couple of seconds before you took a deep breath.
“Do you mind if I take you up on that offer now?”
“Sure thing!”
“Good. Can you tell me how long Max has been fucking you behind my back?”
That wiped the smile off her face, making her swallow thickly as a nervous laugh spilled from her lips.
“I don’t—I—” she stammered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do,” you said, your voice calm despite the anger burning in your veins, and her chin trembled as if she was on the verge of tears. “Is that why you asked about DC? You think I’ll somehow get him back if I stay here?”
She didn’t answer, just stared at you with tears in her eyes and you scoffed a laugh.
“Unbelievable,” you murmured and shrugged your shoulders. “No need to worry, he’s all yours.”
“It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, I—”
“You can have him.” You managed to grin at her. “I mean it, Tessa. I don’t give a fuck about him. Enjoy your weekly five minutes of missionary while he watches the stock market on his phone beside your pillow.”
 With that, you walked away from her, leaving her there dumbfounded.
                                           *
At this point, you were beginning to feel like this damn office had a hold on you with how you kept finding yourself in it, but you needed a place to hang out until you met with Caleb and Kelsey, so you figured you could do some more research on apartments in DC.
That wasn’t the surprising part. The surprising part was that when you walked in, Bucky’s office light was on and you could hear the shuffling coming from inside. You frowned and looked over your shoulder, then grabbed the nearest file and stepped closer to the office, holding the file over your head, ready to strike any potential burglars but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw Bucky in the office, staring at you like he could hear you coming from a mile away.
Which, he probably could.
“What are you doing?”
“What are you doing?” you asked back and he motioned at the office.
“Looking for the goddamn toy. Why are you holding a file?”
“I thought you were a burglar,” you said, lowering the file and Bucky tilted his head.
“You were going to beat the burglar with the clean energy draft meeting minutes?”
“I’m not open to constructive criticism after the day I had, Bucky,” you said and tossed the file on the couch. “Did you find the toy yet?”
“No.”
You furrowed your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to be good at this? You used to be a super soldier spy.”
“A super soldier assassin,” he corrected you. “Finding toys was not my expertise.”
You heaved a sigh, then went over to his drawer to pull it open, making him shake his head.
“I already checked there.”
“And your desk?”
“Yeah.”
You put your hands on your hips to look around the room, then pointed at the couch. “Here?”
“I lifted it, it’s not under it.”
You made your way to the couch to pull at the cushions, then stuck your hand between and felt around before your hand touched something plastic. You curled your fingers around it, pulled it back, and held the small figurine up, grinning at Bucky.
“There we go.”
“Thank you,” he said and you tossed it to him for him to catch it mid-air. He put it into his pocket, then leaned back to his desk.
“You okay?” he asked. “What are you doing here again?”
“I’ll just use the wifi and feel sorry for myself until Caleb and Kels pick me up. So don’t let me keep you.”
“Feeling sorry for yourself?” he repeated. “What happened?”
I hid under your desk from your girlfriend, heard about your sex life, bribed your cat with wet food and then found out my ex was cheating on me. Did you really say my name in your sleep?
That was not a good conversation starter.
“Just a bad day,” you muttered. “But hey, see you later—”
“I’m not letting you feel sorry for yourself all by yourself,” Bucky cut you off and you arched a brow.
“Bucky.”
“No way.”
“Don’t you have stuff to do?”
“It can wait,” he said and you heaved a sigh, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Fine,” you said. “Wanna pregame and raid Paul’s secret stash?”
“Paul has a secret stash?”
You let out a laugh, then wiggled your brows and walked out of his office with him following you.
                                                    *
Paul was an asshole but even you had to admit, he had good taste in booze.
“Is that crack on the ceiling new, or did I just not look at the ceiling the whole time I worked here?” you mused, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you laid on the floor and Bucky took a swig of whiskey from the bottle, then held it out for you.
“It’s not new.”
“Really?” You sat up and leaned your back to the leg of your desk before taking a sip as well. “Interesting.”
“Birdie.”
“Hm?”
“What happened?” he asked softly and you pouted your lips, then took another sip.
“Do you remember Max?”
Bucky pulled his brows together.
“Your ex whom you broke up with just a month ago?” he asked. “The name does ring a bell.”
“Did you know he’s an asshole?”
“Yeah I did, funnily enough.”
You dragged your tongue over your teeth. “Today I found out he was cheating on me.”
 Bucky frowned. “What?”
“Remember the perfume?” you asked. “The girl he was cheating on me with, I ran into her today, she wears that perfume. That motherfucker gifted me the same perfume so that I wouldn’t notice when he showed up smelling like her.”
He gawked at you and you nodded your head.
“I know, right?”
“He is capable of planning all that?”
“Max can be very clever when it comes to his self-interest,” you said. “I was in a relationship with him for seven years, I—”
“Seven years?” Bucky cut you off and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Yeah.”
“Seven years and no ring?” he asked as if he wanted to make sure and you tilted your head, a huff of laughter escaping you.
“Why hello, senior citizen from Greatest Generation,” you taunted him. “Things work a bit differently nowadays.”
“In my day, seven months was too much.”
“I once spent seven months trying to pick a sofa,” you replied. “That’s not gonna happen. And to repeat, different century.”
Bucky took the bottle to take a sip, then put it down.
“Wait, did you say you ran into the girl?”
“Mm hm,” you said. “And you know what’s weird? I’m not even angry at her, I feel sorry for her.”
“How’s that?”
“Max was—well, he was obviously my first actual serious relationship,” you said. “So now that I think about it, now that I’m not in it, I can see that a lot of things in that relationship were designed to make him feel good and not me. He even—” You let out a laugh. “Okay, I am about to spill a sex secret that will be very traumatizing for your generation, you ready?”
Bucky motioned for you to wait for a second, took another sip of whiskey and nodded at you.
“Yeah, go.”
“You thought I was weird for checking my emails right after sex, right?”
“That is very weird.”
“Listen to this; Max and I would only have sex for five minutes because that was the most he could stay away from work,” you said. “And during those five minutes, his phone would be right beside my pillow so that he could check his investments and see if something was up with work.”
He blinked a couple of times, staring at you.
“One time,” you said and sipped the whiskey. “One time, while his phone was charging, he started a chronometer on his smartwatch so that he could make sure it’d be five minutes—Bucky, you should see your face, you look more traumatized than I was and I actually lived it.”
“Tell me you’re joking,” he managed to say and you shook your head.
“Nope.”
“I can beat this guy up.”
“No.”
“Please let me beat this guy up.”
“No.”
“Birdie—”
“I don’t give a fuck about him, I just can’t believe he made me do all that and then went behind my back and did that. Like what, additional five minutes in a supply closet or something?”
“And you were in love with this prick for seven years?” he asked, dumbfounded, and you grimaced.
“Of course I wasn’t.”
That made his head shoot up and he stared at you in complete silence for a couple of seconds, then licked his lips.
“You told me…” he trailed off, a bitter smile twitching his mouth like he couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea. “You told me you were in love with him.”
“That, my friend, is called overcompensating,” you stated. “I figured if I convinced people, I could convince myself. Funny how it doesn’t work like that.”
He ran a hand over his face, his jaw tightening.
“We were though, at first,” you said. “But I mean, who knows? Maybe it never was good and he was a selfish cheating asshole and I didn’t see it. I don’t know.”
He dropped his head back with a soft thud against the desk, letting out an exasperated breath.
 “For God’s sake, Birdie.”
“And I am not even sad that I broke up with him, I’m just sad that—” You nibbled on your lip, then slid a little on the ground with a huff. “It was easier to ignore it when I was with Max.”
“Ignore what?” Bucky asked and you dug the heels of your palms on your eyes like it could help push back the tears, then dropped your hands.
“I have this voice in my head,” you rasped out. “All the time.”
Bucky’s gaze on you was almost too hot. “What does it say?”
“That…” It felt like you were swallowing coals. “That it’s too difficult. To love me. That—that no one will fall in love with me.”
 A stunned silence fell upon the office. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the confusion on Bucky’s face like he couldn’t tell whether you were serious or not, but realization dawned on him after a couple of seconds, making him exhale. You could still feel his piercing blue eyes on you, but you made yourself busy with peeling the label off the whiskey bottle, sniffling.
His voice was low when he spoke: “I’ve got bad news for that voice.”
You raised your brows, still busy with the label. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Someone will kill it one day.”
That made you huff out a laugh and you rubbed at your eye with the back of your hand before turning to see him watching you with a fond light in his gaze. You scrunched up your nose, then held out your pinky, coaxing a chuckle out of him before he reached out to hook his pinky with yours, a warmth spreading from your hand to your whole body.
“Someone will kill it like an assassin,” you said, determination laced in your tone as you stuck your nose in the air and he gave you a soft smile.
“Someone will kill it,” he repeated. “Like an assassin.”
It felt physically impossible to look away from his handsome face, and you could feel your heartbeat getting faster, but before you could say anything he frowned and turned his head like he—
“Birdie? You here?”
Of course Bucky had heard Caleb before you.
You slowly pulled your hand back and cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together as you stood up.
“Paul’s office!”  
Caleb’s footsteps came closer before he peeked his head in.
“Hey,” he said, his eyes darting between you two as Bucky stood up as well. “Kels is outside. Bucky, are you joining us? We’re gonna do shots.”
Bucky shook his head.
“I’m gonna go home, but you guys have fun.” He stole a look at you. “And be safe please?”
“Always am,” you said with a small smile and followed Caleb out of the office, then both of you stepped outside to approach Kelsey.
“Did I interrupt something?” Caleb teased you, making Kelsey raise her brows.
“What’s going on?”
“She was drinking whiskey with Bucky in the office.”
Kelsey’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Anything you’d like to share with the class, Birdie?”
“Oh, not much,” you said as you started walking with them rushing to catch up with you. “Today I found out I have been cheated on, that Hazel hates me and asked Bucky to fire me and that apparently, Bucky is perfect in bed. But hey, how was your day?”   
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 25 days ago
Text
hero and villain
THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILER
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Widow!Reader
Warnings: Forced pregnancy (backstory) and discussion of sexual assault
Summary:
From what Yelena and John spoke of, Bucky expected to see some montage of Winter Soldier highlights. Not the bright and cozy family room, not you standing opposite of him watching the scene unfold with tears streaming down your face. A duplicate of you, younger, your hair a different colour, was handing a package over to a woman he didn't know.
A/N: im weak, i wont survive the winter.... baby fic. We were all talking about the Found Family of it all, what about the Found "Baby I Abandoned and Didn't Tell You About" in the Void?
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   From what Yelena and John spoke of, Bucky expected to see some of the Winter Soldier highlights - an innocent's warm blood coating his face, the scream of one of his victims echoing in the inky black, a hit on an uncooperative politician. Not the bright and cozy family room, not you standing opposite of him watching the scene unfold with tears streaming down your face.
A duplicate of you, younger, your hair a different colour, was handing a package over to a woman he didn't know. They're speaking to each other. He opens his mouth to interrupt them, when he's shoved back.
"What-" Another shove. "Are-" Another. "You-" The hands pushing him become fists. "Doing-!?"
He snatches you by the wrists to stop you, and all of the fight seeps out of you. You're still sneering at him as though you hate him for stopping you and not fighting. The two of you were excellent at fighting.
"I thought you died, coming in here." he states, calm enough to set you off again.
You roll your eyes at him, scoffing. It doesn’t convince him that you are as untouchable and unphased as you want it to come across. The tear tracks that had cut through the dust and grime on your face from that last fight, had him thinking otherwise.
A mask for what he can see is a deep sadness. This room...what was so traumatic about a room? He moves to pass you, to get a closer look at the woman he didn't know. 
Your instinct is to grapple him to the ground. It didn’t matter that you were one of the best fighters this world had known, he wasn’t going to use his strength. The two of you had fought each other in the past, but he never hurt you. This has not been the first time you have pinned him, and knowing you, it will not be the last. Your knee is in his back, his hands twisted into your grip.
The door slams shut as your younger self nearly runs away. A second later, you come back in with the unfamiliar woman.
“Is she one of the younger ones?” she asks as they step through the door, around the two of you on the floor.
There is a whimper of a response, but Bucky can’t see from his position who it comes from.
“I-I-I-I’m next-” 
His chest feels like it collapses in on itself. That’s your voice, he’s never heard you cry before. When he speaks, he directs it up to you, “Your next what? What is she saying?”
You take a deep breath above him, in through the nose out through the mouth, before ordering, “Stay down.”
His hands are released and you get off his back. You don’t move too far, simply sitting with him on the ground. Not risking another grapple, Bucky places his hands palm down, lifts his head to tilt his ear toward the conversation taking place.
“So he’s going to come then?” 
Younger you sniffs and hums an acknowledgement. “I lost him in DC, I think he was assigned another mission.”
The other woman gasps, “Project Insight. SHIELD’s entire archive was released. Three helicarriers crashed into the Potomac.”
“Knowing my luck, he survived.”
Older you snorts in amusement. 
Bucky twists his head to give you a bemused look. He had gathered that they were talking about him - or, the Winter Soldier. But the look fades as the realization sets in. Bob was showing them their fears. Yelena had described this as a shame room.
You were afraid of him. 
The you of the memory continues talking, “I can lead them away. No one will know about this, and when I tell you, you will be the only person to know. It has to stay that way. You will be in danger from HYDRA, the Red Room, and who knows who else. I am telling you because you got me out. You are the only person I trust, Oksana.”
“сестра, you are one of the nests. They will hunt you to the ends of the earth.”
“I’ll do it for her. Just take her far away.”
“She’s yours! You can hide now, with her.”
“She’s his. They will come for her. They’ll send him. Maybe he’ll kill her outright, he won’t know she’s his daughter.”
The revelation takes its time sinking in. He doesn’t get up, doesn’t move. He just turns onto his back, now trapped between you and a couch on the floor of a memory that isn’t even his. He was wrong. This wasn’t your shame room. It was built for him. The Winter Soldier had committed many atrocities but this was the worst. 
But this was a shame room built for him. He had done— that to you.
You take his closest hand - the metal one - in your two, and pull the pair of you to your feet. 
“Your next.” he says, his voice thin. He had misheard your younger self, “You’re a nest.”
He had heard about a subsect of the Widow program, the Nest, dedicated to the repopulation of the small army. The few of the Widows who were left in tact for Dreykov’s nefarious purposes. A program for training swallows. Teenage baby factories. 
You squeeze his hand. “Yes, and you-”
“How can you even look at me?” he was shaking his head,  “It’s not right. What I did-”
“Was as much assault on you as it was for me. You aren’t the only one in therapy. Bucky, this room is not for you. I’m the one that left her. Didn’t tell you.”
“I hunted you, of course you didn’t tell me.” 
As if he could dismiss your self-hatred with his own. The easy forgiveness brought the tears back to your eyes. You close your eyes to block them, gritting your teeth. He brushes your tears away for you, and rests his hand on your cheek. The hesitance in the air makes you open your eyes and make eye contact.
He takes in a breath, as if steeling himself.
“Can I look at her?”
You take his hand and lead him over to the back of the couch so the pair of you might lean over the memory. He had seen the baby as a package of some sort earlier, because younger you had used a shipping box as a makeshift carrier. The cardboard box was stuffed with a soft hoodie as a blanket. The baby had not made a sound the entire time, even as a younger you shoved the box into the other woman, Oksana’s, hands. Ignoring her protests, you tell her, “Don’t tell me where you’re going. Protect her.”
And you leave. Bucky turns his head to watch you go, and when he turns back - Oksana and the baby are nowhere to be found. 
The door opens again. The two Widows walk in, and Bucky trails them back to the couch that they sit down on.
“She’s so little,” he comments. He does not look at you, lest he acknowledge the fact that seeing a reflection of you holding his baby was plucking a heart string.
The pair of you lean in, and you huff out a laugh, as you nudge him, “Looks like you from tip to tail, doesn’t she?”
He looks up at you, sees the tiny features that made the baby beautiful to him. His jaw is left hanging. “Looks like you.”
You grimace and apologize to the baby, “Sorry, junior.” You reach down to poke the baby’s nose.
Bucky’s heart clenches, imagining it all turn to smoke and shadow. He had not touched anything to do with this room, contributing to the dreamlike quality that this all held. But you touch the baby, scrunching your nose when the baby adorably wrinkles her face against your finger.
A voice, not yours, and yours at the same time speaks from the younger you.
“You knew then. Don’t be stupid. You don’t deserve her. ” 
There is something behind you - and on the wall. Bucky puts his hand on your shoulder to move you and the baby behind him, put himself in between. Instinctively, you scoop up the baby. 
But there is no standing between you and your shadow. As if you had a second arm attached at the elbow, a darkness - a void - clamps down on your wrist and twists.
When you yelp, Bucky reaches into the split in space and yanks the shadow from you. You recoil, hunching over the baby. Your good arm still cradling her to your body, turned away from the chaos. The darkness manifests itself as the younger you. She sneers at Bucky. 
“Look at me, Soldat.” she says, enraged, “You forgot a name on the list. Where is the effort to make amends, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes?”
She goes for a strike. Pale and frozen, he takes the hits. You can see the pattern, the memory is taking the same moves you would use now, not the Red Room clone that you used to be. Or have you always been that obvious, telegraphing your punches? You watch Bucky and understand him. You understand why you could pin a super soldier like the Winter Soldier.
He has never hurt you, but you know that’s because he would never fight you.
You draw your gun to help, but your aim shakes with the weight of it on your broken wrist. In that instance, the woman who had rescued you from Dreykov restrains you. With her arm around your throat, and your injured arm twisted behind.
With her holding your arms and dragging you back, you can only call out.
“She’s not me, Barnes!” you shout at him, “Kick her ass!”
You watch him sink into a place he hasn’t in a long time. Bucky would never hurt you, but the Winter Soldier has no mercy. Following your command, the metal hand reaches back and grabs the ankle of the twenty year old assassin on his back. In a maneuver too quick to track, he has her pinned and her throat caught in his hands. She gasps for air, tilting her head up- to look at you. Her mouth moves - and you hear her (not yours and yours at the same time) voice from Oksana behind you.
“See how he hates you? See how the hero will never love the villain? He will always hurt us.”
That’s not true. He never fought back.
With that flimsy plate of armor around your heart, you bend your head to bite Oksana. Her recoil gives you enough room to drop and spin, knocking her feet from under her. You use the momentum to slide yourself away and point your gun up at her. She drops and you turn the muzzle on yourself - your younger self. Two bullets for your ledger. Daddy Alexei would be so proud of his little murderer, dripping red.
Bucky staggers to his feet, eyes wide and fearful before he looks at you. Child murderer. There’s no shadow to remind you of what you are, but you know. This memory is a decade old. You have just shot a twenty year old who has just escaped the prison that held her for her entire life. He must see the same child you do. 
His face twists into something else, and it’s worse than you could have dreaded. He looks at you with pity.
You feel it then.
That same rush of adrenaline that comes with firing a shot - that same rush of adrenaline that comes with quarrel for the sake of quarrel - that same rush of adrenaline when he looks at you with any other expression, when he shines that spotlight attention on even a fraction of you. 
You want to be mad, to tell him off for pitying you, but the relief that all of you are okay hits you before the urge to fight comes up like nausea.
He steps forward, and you think he’s just going to leave you. But he comes behind you to help you to your feet.
You take the opportunity to put the gun away and cradle the baby. You trace her fragile skull with your finger. The pain radiates from your wrist to the tips of your fingers. You deserve this pain. You don’t deserve to touch her. This is why you left her behind.
Bucky still hasn’t stopped supporting you, leaning into your back as he wraps his metal arm around your waist. You feel his other hand move to support your wrist, careful to not touch the inflamed bruising. 
“Do you want me to take her?” he asks. You take a breath to steady yourself. He’s standing so close that swaying on your feet leans you into his chest. You shake your head, but hand her over all the same. “We have to find Sentry.”
“Bob.” you correct. You still had the image of that sweet civilian who grabbed a gun and ran into a field of soldiers to distract them. It didn’t matter that Valentina dyed his hair and poisoned him against you and the team. “His name is Bob. He needs our help.”
There’s no Winter Soldier in the soft look you receive. “You came in here not knowing if we can save him.”
“We haven’t moved on. Can you carry her?”
“Yes, of course,” He adjusted the baby as if to show off how capable he was. You grit your teeth at the back of your mouth to not see a father holding his baby. You have a mission. Save Bob.
You nod and lead the way to the door out of the room.
---
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idk-maybe-i-did-it · 25 days ago
Text
A Soft Place to Fall
Azriel x Reader
Summary: When Azriel finds himself drawn to her warmth, her curves, her unapologetic softness, he knew he didn't stand a chance; and once he finally gave in, he'd never crawl back out of her arms, or her bed, again.
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Azriel had spent five centuries mastering silence. He could slip through shadows, read a room with one flick of his cold golden eyes, and kill a man before his target ever heard a footstep.
And yet none of it prepared him for you.
None of it protected him from the way your laughter—bright, unfiltered—sank under his skin like sunlight in a place he’d long since left dark. Or the way you walked into a room with curves that refused to be quiet, hips that swayed like they knew his eyes were on them, thighs that whispered promises in the cradle of his dreams.
You were soft where others were sharp. Loud where others tiptoed around his silence. And you were kind to him. Kind. You looked at him like he wasn’t a weapon. Like he was a man.
And gods, he was fucked.
It started with glances.
One night at the River House, your thigh had brushed against his under the table. Just a second. Just a spark. But Azriel had spent the rest of dinner sitting stone-still, sweat between his shoulder blades, trying not to glance down at where the curve of your legs pressed so innocently against his. Like you didn’t know what you were doing.
He knew. Or hoped.
He went home that night and fucked his hand with your name on his tongue.
Over the following weeks, it only got worse.
His shadows told on him. Whispers of you undressing, fingers brushing lotion over your skin. Your voice, singing softly in your room when you thought no one was listening. The bond—Cauldron, the bond—was growing louder, insistent now, humming in his bones every time you walked by.
He began to crave you like blood. And it made him sloppy.
Sparring with Cassian? He caught a glimpse of you stretching on the sidelines and missed a block, got knocked on his ass. Mission debriefing with Rhys? Azriel didn’t hear a word—because you’d walked in wearing a dress that hugged the dip of your waist and the swell of your hips like a sin.
But he couldn’t touch. Not yet.
He didn’t know if you felt it. The bond. The way it pulled on him like a hook in his ribs, dragging him closer to you with every breath. You deserved more than a man who didn’t know how to be soft. A man who burned and bled and broke.
But then… you smiled at him.
That day in the training ring, your face flushed, thighs trembling from the workout, sweat glistening between your breasts—he snapped.
"You alright?" you asked gently, blinking up at him as he stalked toward you, dark and silent.
"No," he said hoarsely. “No, I’m not.”
You looked up at him with that wide-eyed kindness, a little confused, a little wary. “Az…?”
“I need to show you something.”
He didn’t give you time to overthink. Just took your hand and led you through the House—past the halls where his shadows curled and listened, past the tension thrumming in his chest—to the bathing chamber. Quiet. Private.
Sacred.
When the door shut behind you, you stood very still. “Is something wrong?”
Azriel turned to you, heart in his throat. “I think you’re my mate.”
Silence. Thick. Shocking.
You blinked, once. Twice. “You think—?”
“I know,” he said, stepping forward. “I’ve known for months. Since the moment I saw you. The bond—it’s been screaming at me, and I’ve been pretending I can ignore it. But I can’t anymore. Not when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m yours.”
The bath steamed behind him, sweet with oils and magic. And you—beautiful and wide-eyed and so damn soft—stood before him like a vision.
He raised a scarred hand. Let it hover near your cheek. “Say something. Please.”
You stared at him, lips parted, and then whispered: “Why me?”
Azriel exhaled, voice thick. “Because your laugh sounds like something I want to protect. Because when you walk into a room, I don’t see shadows—I see a future. Because your thighs drive me insane, and when you smile at me, it hurts. And because I would burn the world if you asked.”
Your eyes shimmered.
“Let me show you,” he said. “Please.”
And you nodded.
He undressed you slowly.
Azriel had never gone to war with trembling fingers, but he did now—unlacing the front of your tunic, pushing the fabric down your arms, eyes drinking in every glorious inch you revealed.
Your breasts spilled free first, soft and full and gods, he wanted to mouth at them for hours. Then your waist, the slight dip of your belly, the luscious curve of your hips.
You reached to cover yourself, instinctive.
“Don’t,” he rasped. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”
And when you dropped your arms, vulnerable and trembling, Azriel fell to his knees like he’d been commanded by the gods themselves.
You gasped as he kissed the inside of your thigh, his voice shaking with reverence. “I’ve dreamed of this. Every damn night.”
Then his mouth was on you.
Azriel worshipped you like a prayer—his tongue seeking, finding, devouring the sweet bundle of nerves that made you moan and buck against his face. He gripped your thighs with reverent hands, spreading you open wider for him, shadows caressing you like a second touch.
When your thighs clamped around his head, he groaned—groaned—like it was the only place he’d ever belonged.
“That’s it,” he whispered against your slick. “Use me, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart.”
You came for him like a breaking wave. Then again. And again. Until your legs shook and your voice was hoarse from moaning his name.
When he finally rose, your eyes were glazed, your lips kiss-bruised from his.
“Bath,” he murmured, lifting you easily into the water.
You curled into him, back to his chest, the warm water cradling you both. His hands never stopped moving—palming your belly under the surface, stroking the curve of your hip, dragging lazy circles along your inner thigh.
“You drive me mad,” he said, lips against your ear.
“I didn’t mean to.”
He smiled. “I think I was waiting for someone like you. Someone who wouldn’t flinch when I said I’m broken. Who would still want me when I got like this—desperate and wild.”
Then he kissed you.
Not fierce. Not possessive. Just full. Devout. Like a man finally drinking water after years of thirst.
Later, as he dried you off with his own hands��slow, careful, utterly in love—he murmured: “You're mine now.”
You smiled up at him. “And you're mine?”
Azriel lowered his head. Rested his brow against your belly.
“I’ve always been yours.”
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