sparklyhologrampaper

[sparklyhologrampaper]

DEAR JAMES #2

summary: bucky founds a letter in his desk. Who is the mistery woman behind them?

pairing: congressman!bucky x fem!reader.

Warnings: None. Pure fluff!

a/n: My first fanfic eveeeer! Haven't written a story since highschool probably. English not my first languague.

@pampi-iranzo

#Letter 2

Dear James:

Its 2 AM again, and I've been fighting it. I swore myself it was just a one letter thing, get it all out of my chest and done. Well, it's turns out its easier said than done. Once the dam has been breach, its difficult to keep everything I've benn bottling up at bay.

I saw you today you looked a little bewildered. Don't worry, just slightly, just a little fracture on the brave mask you put on every day. Its tempting to think I have something to do with it. I replay these scene in my head over and over. I come up to you, ask you on a date, nothing fancy, just coffee and maybe those delicious chocolate chip cookies they sell in the little food truck outside the building. Its chilly so you throw your jacket over my shoulders, ever the gentleman. I make you laugh with my witty remarks and God its the most wonderful sound in the world. You should laugh more James. In the real world I mean. You laugh plenty in my dreams.

Reality hits hard every damn time. I can't let myself indulge in this sentiment for too long because it makes me feel brave and gives me hope. And I don't even know if I'm worthy enough to earn your affection. You are not the only one wearing a mask you know? We all have to play our parts. But sometimes I wish that, just for one moment, I could paint outside the numbers, let myself believe I can choose a different path, not the one I should follow but the one I want to follow.

It's 3 AM and I'm probably no making any sense now. Need to get some sleep. Tomorrow I'll wake up to the promise of seeing you again and that for now is enough.

Yours,

XXX

Morning was achingly slow for Bucky. Not enough coffe in the world could prepare him for hours of committe hearings. The same boring speeches, no heart, just same old political propaganda. He wondered if he could survive two years of these nonsense bullshit. His tie was too tight, his shoes were too uncomfortable, the place too loud and too hot. He couldn't wait another minute, he abandoned the room in a hurry. He needed silence and he needed it now. He found solace in his office. Thank god his assistant left him a sandwich and a soda in his desk. He could have a quiet lunch by himself, just 30 minutes without someone asking him a damn thing. And he thought Sam was obnoxious. He was a sweetheart compare to the oldest Texas representative who couldn't stop yapping over the benefits of strip mining .

He was about to give his sandwich the first bite when he saw the envelope. Same handwriting, black ink, perfect cursive. Instinctively he stood up and checked through his office window if there was someone spying on him. Of course there wasn't. His assistant wasn't around, she was probably having lunch with his chief of staff. "Fuck" He cursed himself internally for leaving her alone in the hearing whithout saying a word. Some interns were having lunch in the conference room, but none of them were paying particularly attention to him.

He locked his door and placed himself in his office sofa. One hand was messing with his hair, the other one delicately holding the letter. It took him a couple of minutes to work the courage to open it. A silent twist in his stomach was an indication of how much big of a deal it was to him.

When he finished reading it he breathed out heavily. He didn't even noticed he was holding his breath. Every word crawled deep into his heart, warming him in a way he thought he was incapable to feel, lighting a part of him he though it was long gone. It was an absolute imperative to find out who this mistery girl was. Bless her soul. She felt unworthy of his affection? He was the undeserving one. Sure she knew about his past, everyone in the office knew, but it didn't prevent her of choosing to see the good in him.

He knew he was grumpy, his tendencies to keep everyone at arms lenght, his brooding silences and killer stares. It wasn't surprising at all mistery girl was so scared to show herself. But maybe there was a way he could show her he wasn't that bad, he could star building bridges so she would feel confident enough to reach out

So that afternoon he found himself having coffee and a chocolate chips cookie in the little food truck outside his office. A small gesture. A silent offering.

Hidden in the shadows of an office, spying through a window, someone tummy was now full of butterflies.

Previous Chapter

[sparklyhologrampaper]

DEAR JAMES #1

summary: bucky founds a letter in his desk. Who is the mistery woman behind them?

pairing: congressman!bucky x fem!reader.

warnings: None. Pure fluff!

a/n: My first fanfic eveeeer! Haven't written a story since high school probably. English not my first languague. Just need a little romance in my life.

These one is for you @pampi-iranzo

Letter #1

Dear James:

Why you think we don't we write letters anymore? I sure hope you being a 40s guy you would appreciatte this now almost lost form of communication. Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic who wishes she was born in a different era o maybe, just maybe, I'm a coward and can bring myself to talk to you. I try to picture myself looking straight to your eyes, that stupidly beautiful blue eyes of yours, and telling you what I feel and suddenly I can't seem to catch my breath. So I decided against it. But It's 2 AM, and I can't go back to sleep if I don't get these out of my chest.

Been tossing and turning in my bed, can't stop thinking of you. I tried to dismiss my feelings, I tell myself every morning is just a foolish office crush and I'll get over it soon enough. It has been months and I should have come to my senses now, but these feelings only seem to grow deeper.

I notice every little thing about you. I notice all your hard work, how you truly care and you want to make a true impact on the world. You listen, really listen, when people come up to you with their problems, and I see you genuinely want to help them. You are kind to those who are around you, never lashing out your frustations with the staff, you learnt everyone names, you even ask the janitor about his cat. You can't even begin to function in the morning without having coffe first. You make these adorable grumpy face when you are overwhelmed and drowning in stupid burocratic paperwork, probably wondering how the hell you end up in Washington DC . I learnt that you hate ties, lemon bars and that you poke your tongue just a little when you concentrate enough. I see how you smile with your eyes with every small victory and how your mood is definitely lighter after having pizza every friday.

And I also notice how you don't notice me at all. But for now living for the hope it all is enough.

Yours,

XXX

Bucky found the letter carefully placed in his desk that morning. A simple white envelope with his name written in the most beautiful cursive handwriting. He read the letter once, twice, by the fourth time he stood up and looked at the the goddamn paper as it was a ticking bomb about to explode. Was it a cruel joke? Someone trying to mess up with him? Maybe a trap? But why? With what purpose? Was someone trying to lure him into some sort of political scandal? It didn't make any sense. If he let himself entertain the idea that it was real, how come he didn't notice someone keeping such close tabs on him?

His morning was buried with meetings. Endless graphics, Power Points and diagrams but nothing really made sense. Yeah, phisically he was on his office but his mind, his mind was definitely somewhere else. He mentally made a list of every female member of his staff. He crossed off the list the ones over fifty and the married ones maybe?!?. He narrowed down the list to fiteen names but none of them particularly strike him as a hopeless romantic. Not one of them ever acted less than professional. It was the Washington way: zero warm, all business. Anyway, what was he expecting? A member of a Jane Austen Book Club with a copy of Pride and Prejudice in her desk? Someone with hearts in her eyes pining for him like the main character of a soap Opera? Yearning for him in the Congress halls? If the letter was real, something he was still debating, the author was probably a reserved and discreet person. If she got up the courage to leave a letter to him, a trained former assassin now playing Congressman ,is because she was sure she wasn't going to get caught. What if she worked close but not in his office? It was pointless. It could be anybody.

That night he was the one tossing and turning in his bed. He had no idea who this mistery woman could be. Not a clue. But surely she has all his attention now. He felt seen, in a way he hasn't in decades, she saw him as a man maybe worthy of love and admiration. Saw the good in him despite his past. Saw that he was really trying. And for now for him that was enough too.

Little he knew that across town another letter was being written...

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