#Congressman Bucky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aquaticmercy · 24 days ago

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Altar Ghosts

Summary : While on a mission with Bucky Barnes, you’re forced to confront your ex-fiancé, who left you at the altar. Bucky helps you realize you deserve far better than the man who broke your heart.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : Love Confessions!!! Fluff. Hurt/comfort. Verbal abuse and emotional manipulation (by the reader’s ex-fiancé), mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, past trauma, cursing, sexual references.

Requested by : @switchbladedreamz

Word count : 4.2k

Note : This was really fun to write! The reader’s ex-fiancé is called Ethan because I couldn't think of a better name. Bucky is already a congressman in this (as suggested in the Thundebolts* trailer). Matt Murdock gets a mention because why not. Enjoy!

Requests are open!

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The Gala was loud and pretentious, like most of them tend to be. The soft glow of crystal chandeliers illuminated the grand ballroom, people around you swirled in and out of conversations with champagne flutes in hand. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne and overpriced alcohol, but underneath the glamour, there was a tangible sense of danger that you knew all too well. This ballroom was a place where secrets exchanged hands as easily as drinks.

You were tasked with swiping a hard drive from one of Kingpin’s enforcers— codename Red. It contained details of a black-market arms deal that could arm every crime syndicate in New York twice over.

Matt Murdock had approached you with this job, and since you owed him, you couldn’t exactly say no. You’d been briefed, and it seemed straightforward. Red should be easy to spot: fiery red hair and a wiry red mask.

If you were going to go to a gala, you might as well bring someone with you, right? Bucky Barnes was the obvious partner for this mission, being the stealthy ex-assassin that he is. His past never truly left him, and as a newly appointed congressman, he was able to slip between a diplomatic politician and confrontative spy with ease.

With a single phone call, he’d secured your invitations to the gala, but as always, Bucky’s presence was more than just political. He was a close friend of yours, as close as friends ever got in this business. You bonded over many things that have happened in the past, and you’ve actually told him many secrets, personal or professional, that you were unable to utter around anyone else.

And if you were being honest, Bucky cleaned up really well. His suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, the dark fabric accentuating his sharp jawline and bringing out the striking blue in his eyes. As you moved together through the crowd, you felt his presence at your side like a comfortable, familiar weight.

"Don’t you scrub up nice, Barnes," you teased as you adjusted your gown, glancing up at him with a smirk.

He chuckled softly, leaning in slightly so only you could hear him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, but a warm flush crept up your neck. “Focus, Congressman,” you replied with a hint of seriousness, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

As you passed by a group, Bucky leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear. “How am I supposed to focus when you’re dressed like that?” His voice was low and teasing, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“You flirt like this on every mission, or am I special?” you shot back playfully, giving him a sidelong glance.

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Depends,” he said, his voice a little softer now. “Do you want to be special?”

It was supposed to be the light, usual banter you two always shared, but there was something in the way he said it that made your stomach flutter. You caught his gaze, and for a brief moment, the gala, the mission, the crowd—it all seemed to fade into the background.

Before you could respond, you reached a quieter corner of the room, and he gently tugged you closer by the waist, pretending to blend in with the other couples dancing nearby. His touch was firm yet careful, and you found yourself stepping closer, your heart pounding a little faster.

“Is this okay?” he asked, ever the gentleman, of his grip on you.

“Of course,” you murmured, the air between you charged with something more than just the job you were asked to do.

“There’s our guy,” you pointed with your eyes, to the tall man wearing a red mask, with a messenger bag and unnaturally dyed red hair.

There was something familiar about him. Something you couldn’t get past, but you just brushed it off.

You and Bucky danced carefully as you navigated the crowd, keeping up appearances. While the gala’s guests indulged in champagne, Red stood there, alone, like a sentinel guarding his secrets.

Bucky glanced toward Red, sizing him up. “So, what’s the plan? Subtle or do we make a scene?”

“Subtle,” you confirmed. “If we tip him off, we lose our only chance to swipe the drive clean. You’ll handle the distraction. I’ll grab the drive.”

Bucky adjusted his cufflinks and winked. “Let’s hope you’re as good as you say you are.”

You shot him a playful glare before he slipped into the crowd, your eyes fixed on Red. In moments like these, your instincts kicked in. The mission was clear, and any hint of nerves you might have felt melted away.

You approached Red cautiously, hiding your face from him. You didn’t need to engage him—only slip your hand into his bag when he wasn't looking.

As if right on cue, Bucky bumped into a waiter just enough to send champagne crashing to the floor, apologising profusely. It was a small diversion, but it was all you needed. Red’s head snapped toward the noise, giving you the window you needed. In a fluid, silent movement, you reached for the hard drive, snatching it without a sound.

There was something still so familiar about him that you couldn’t place.

By the time you and Bucky reached the bar, the hard drive was already nestled safely in your purse.

"That was smooth, even for you." Bucky commented, pretending to be interested in the drink in his hand. He leaned casually against the counter. His eyes sparkled with that mischievous spark that always seemed to make your heart race a little faster.

You gave him a playful smile and shrugged. “I’m a woman of many talents.”

“I’m starting to see that.” His voice full of that teasing, flirtatious tone he’d been using all night. He leaned in a little, his shoulder brushing against yours. “You’re full of surprises.”

“You’re just easily impressed, Barnes.”

“Trust me,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a teasing glint. “I’ve seen plenty.”

You felt dizzy, but it had nothing to do with the champagne in your hand that you didn't even intend to drink. You shook your head, unable to stop the grin forming at your lips. “You know,” you started, moving just a little bit closer to him, “I’m starting to think you like working with me.”

Bucky had been flirting with you all night—more boldly than usual. And, God help you, you were loving it.

Though you weren’t sure it meant anything to him, it was time you flirted back.

Bucky laughed, playfully dancing around the question, leaving it open ended. He leaned casually against the bar, his voice low and smooth as he shot you a sidelong glance.

Bucky chuckled, his eyes flicking over your face, lingering just long enough to make your cheeks burn. “So what now, doll?” he murmured, the endearment rolling off his tongue so effortlessly that it sent a shiver down your spine. “Mission is over. We have time to kill.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered at the sound of doll coming from his lips. “I can think of a few ways to pass the time.”

The air between you felt electric. The crowd around you blurred into the background as Bucky’s gaze bravely held yours. He moved just a little closer, his shoulder pressing gently against yours, his lips hovering near your ear.

“And what might that be?” he murmured, his voice dripping with that scruffy tone that had been driving you crazy all night.

You opened your mouth to respond, your heart hammering in your chest, but the moment was cut short when you heard someone call your name.

You turned sharply, searching for the source. Bucky straightened, once again alert, scanning the room alongside you.

It was Red—the man with the red hair, now striding toward you with purpose. He called your name again, louder this time. Something about the way he said your name sent a chill down your spine.

How does he know me? Are we compromised? Thoughts ran through your mind like a warning bell. You glanced at Bucky, and the concern on his face mirrored your own.

Red reached you, stopping a few feet away. Slowly, he raised his hands to his mask and pulled it away to reveal a face you hadn’t seen in years, and you weren’t pleased at this reunion. It was the face of the man who had shattered your world when he left you at the altar.

Ethan.

Your breath almost choked you. The years had changed him; his once softer features were now more brutal. Sharper. His once natural hair was now dyed a shocking red. He had bulked up, more defined than you remembered him being. So many parts of him were unrecognisable, but there was no mistaking those eyes. Those were the same eyes that once upon a time had looked at you with so much love and promise. The idea that you’d been close enough to him to swipe the drive made you feel sick.

"Surprised to see me?" Ethan said, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. His gaze flicked over to Bucky, who was standing impossibly still. If his stare could kill, Ethan would already be dead.

"You look good," Ethan continued, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Better than the last time I saw you."

"I didn't know you still ran in these circles.” You swallowed hard, trying to not show weakness. “What brings you here tonight, Ethan?" you finally asked, your voice colder than you'd intended.

Bucky winced. He recognized the name. You’ve told him about your failed wedding, and he had no sympathy for the man who had broken your heart.

A slow smirk spread across his face. "Work. Same as you, I imagine.’"

You let out a breath you didn't know you had been holding, a strange relief rolling over you. At least he didn't know that you had stolen the drive from him. At least he didn't suspect a thing.

He gestured toward Bucky. "And you’ve upgraded. Congressman Barnes, right?"

Bucky stepped forward, positioning himself slightly in front of you, his voice low and dangerous. "We’re not here to chat."

Ethan's smirk widened. "I’m sure you’re not." His gaze shifted between you and Bucky, and dark mischief flickered in his eyes. "But I have to ask— does he know? Does the Congressman know just how much you loved being used?"

You clenched your fists, but before you could respond, Bucky took another step forward, his face a mask of controlled anger. "Watch it," he growled.

Ethan’s grin didn’t falter. In fact, it grew. "What’s wrong, Barnes?" He chuckled darkly, leaning in as if to share a secret. "are you just using her too?"

Before Bucky could react, you placed a hand on his arm, feeling the tension in his muscles. "Bucky," you warned softly. You couldn’t afford to cause a scene now, not here, not with this many eyes on both of you. "He’s not worth it."

Bucky’s jaw tightened, his blue eyes locked onto Ethan’s. You heard the soft whir of his vibranium arm as his hands tightened into a fist. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to listen. To your relief, he exhaled a sharp breath through his nose, stepping back slightly.

You turned to Ethan, forcing your voice to remain calm, even though your blood was boiling. "We’re just colleagues, Ethan."

“Of course,” Ethan laughed, shaking his head, though you could tell he didn’t quite believe you. "I should’ve known. She always preferred confident men. I don’t think she likes her men broken." he said with a venomous sneer, his eyes gleaming with malice. The insult had clearly hit its mark. You saw a flash of pain flicker across Bucky’s face before he masked it with a blank stare.

The words stung more than he’d like to admit.

Insulting you was one thing. You expected it from him. But Bucky? He had crossed a line. You stepped closer to him, your voice dropping to a near whisper. "I know who you’re working for, Ethan." The subtle threat in your tone was unmistakable, “And it won't end well.”

For the first time, you saw his shit-eating grin drop.

His face tensed, just for a moment. Knowing that you had rattled him, that your words had struck a nerve? It was enough to give you a small sense of satisfaction.

“Let’s get out of here,” you finally told Bucky while Ethan stayed frozen, unable to find a way to respond.

You turned on your heel and walked away. Bucky was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm, his voice low and full of concern. “You okay?”

You nodded, but the truth was, you weren’t sure. Ethan’s attendance had thrown you off balance, bringing up emotions you thought you had buried six feet underground.

As you walked out the grand doors, your mind drifted to Bucky—his protectiveness, his flirtation. It was all too confusing for you. Was he just doing his job, or was there something more? You didn’t know, and right now, you doubt you have the energy to figure all of this out.

—

The drive back to the safe house was quiet, the tension in the car thick enough to strangle you. Bucky didn’t push, didn’t ask questions, but you could feel his concern as he focused on the road in front of him. It wasn’t until you got to the small cottage on the edge of the city, that you even felt safe from prying eyes and ears. This cottage was a safehouse that was used for SHIELD agents, back in the day. After Hydra and SHIELD were taken down, Fury had given The Avengers and their associates full access to all of the remaining uncompromised safehouses across the country.

When you got inside, you finally let your guard down.

You barely made it to the couch before collapsing onto it, your hands shaking as you tried to control the tears threatening to spill over.

“Talk to me,” Bucky said softly, sitting beside you. He was close, but you wished he was closer. His demeanour was gentle, patient. It’s as if he could see the storm raging inside you. It’s like he was knocking on the door to your soul and was simply waiting for you to let him in.

For a long moment, you just sat there. You stared at your trembling hands, unsure where to start. The weight of the past, the present, and Ethan all dragged down on you like an anchor to a ship.

“He left me,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible, as though saying it aloud would make it worse. You had been strong enough to put on a face at the gala, but here? You felt small. Pathetic.

“I know,” Bucky said quietly.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “He left me at the altar. No explanation. Nothing. I never saw him again after that. Until today.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, but you could feel the shift in his body language. There was a simmering anger that only seemed to appear when something—or someone—hurt the people he cared about.

He had heard you talk about Ethan before. You had your days, where you thought you should call him— not to get back together, but to get some kind of closure. Bucky had always told you not to, that it would just do more harm than good. And that interaction just proved him right.

“I thought I was over it,” you confessed, your voice cracking as you wiped the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “But seeing him… it just— hurt me.” Your voice broke, and you shook your head.

“He’s an asshole,” Bucky said after a beat, his voice low and sure. You knew some of Ethan’s comments hurt him, too, more than he would ever care to admit.

“I just— I thought he loved me, you know?” You brushed away more tears. “I thought I was enough.”

Bucky’s expression darkened, a rare flicker of something secretive passing over his eyes. He leaned forward, catching your gaze with a kind of intensity that made your breath hitch.

“You are more than enough,” he said quietly, his voice steady but fierce. “People like him … they don’t know what they have until they lose it. And he lost the best thing he could ever possibly have.”

You blinked, stunned by the sincerity of his words. Sure, he had flirted with you all night, but there was something serious in his tone that you’ve never noticed before. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, trying to process the gravity of what he was saying.

“Bucky…” you whispered, your heart fluttering in your chest, but this time not our of hurt.

But he didn’t break eye contact. He didn’t back down. “You deserve better than him,” he continued softly. “You deserve someone who sees you for who you are. Someone who would never be stupid enough let you go.”

The words lingered between you, and you suddenly realised just how close he was sitting, how the air around you seemed to buzz with something new, something you hadn’t fully acknowledged, not really.

Bucky had always been there for you, from the day you were first paired up for a mission together. He was a comforting presence in your life, but this… this was different. The way he was looking at you now, the way his voice had wrapped around those words—it was as if he were trying to tell you something more. Something he was too scared to tell.

For the first time, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, Bucky Barnes was offering you more than just a friendship.

—

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Bucky’s words had echoed through your mind like a whirlwind of thoughts you weren’t sure how to handle.

You tossed and turned. You were no longer trying to shake off the lingering pain from seeing Ethan anymore. Instead, it was Bucky who filled your thoughts now. The way he had comforted you, the way he had looked at you like you were worth more than you had ever given yourself credit for.

You couldn’t stop replaying his words in your mind. You deserve better. Someone who’d never let you go.

He always knew what to say. He always knew exactly what you needed to hear, even if you hadn’t realised it yourself.

The feelings you had for Bucky—they had been there for a while, hadn’t they? Subtle at first, easily dismissed as friendship, as a harmless crush. But now, after everything you’ve been through, you could not deny your feelings any longer.

Bucky meant more to you than you had ever let yourself admit.

This realisation was both exhilarating and terrifying. But what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if you were just projecting your own emotions? What if you’re reading too much into his words?

No, you thought, shaking your head. You couldn’t keep running from this. You needed to talk to him. You needed to know. You needed him to know.

—

The next morning, you woke up to find Bucky sitting at the kitchen table in the safe house, eating the last bit of his pancakes. He looked up when you entered the room, his eyes softening.

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving you a small smile. He slid across a second plate of pancakes with maple syrup that he had made for you. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you replied honestly, sitting opposite of him. “Thanks to you.”

He gave a small shrug, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. “I didn’t do much.”

“You did more than you realise,” you said softly, feeling your heart start to race in your chest.

You started eating breakfast, sighing at how tasty it is. This was just a ritual. You enjoyed sharing safe houses with Bucky. Though you loved that he always made you breakfast, you loved his company more. You wondered how long he had been awake, waiting for you.

You read at the clock as you stuffed the last bit of pancake in your mouth. “Murdock will be here in two hours.” you glanced at the hard drive that sat on a kitchen counter. I hope that’s worth it, Matt, you thought to yourself.

After a moment of silence, you called, “Buck?”

Something flickered in his eyes, but he stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue.

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts, your courage. “Yesterday, when you said I deserved better… Did you mean it?”

Bucky’s expression softened, and for a moment, you saw something vulnerable in his eyes, something he rarely let anyone see. “Of course,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted and you took a deep breath. Your voice trembled slightly, fully aware of the information you’re about to disclose to him. “And what if… what if I already found someone l think I deserve?”

Bucky’s eyes widened slightly. There was a bit of fear, of nervousness behind those sky blue eyes. His hand tightened around his coffee mug. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“I think…” you said, your voice barely audible, “I think I’m in love with you. I’ve been for a while now.”

The silence that followed was deafening, and for a split second, you thought you had made a mistake. Maybe you had misread everything?

Calming your spiralling thoughts, Bucky gently placed his hand on top of yours.

“I’m in love with you too,” he admitted quietly, “For much longer than I care to admit.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, slowly, you stood up from your chair and moved around the table, stopping in front of him. Bucky stood as well, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

But there was none.

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him.

Bucky’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his lips were softer that you had imagined. It was slow and gentle, brimming with pent up emotions that had been building for far too long.

When you finally pulled away you felt breathless. Bucky rested his forehead against yours, his hands still holding you close.

“You deserve more than that prick has ever given you,” he whispered, his voice bitter at the mention of the man he had met last night. “And I want to be the person to give you everything you deserve.”

Your heart thrummed at his words. For the first time in what felt like forever, the ache in your chest—the pain from your past—was finally beginning to fade.

“I know.” You stayed there for a long moment, your forehead pressed against his. The world outside the cottage felt so far away, all the hurt and confusion replaced by this new, fragile hope blooming between you.

“I’ve waited a long time to kiss you,” Bucky murmured in amazement. His voice barely above a whisper. His fingers were still tracing light patterns along your jaw. “I didn’t think I ever would.”

You smiled softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

You leaned in again, capturing his lips in another gentle kiss. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your lips moved in tandem with each other, hands running up and down his body. His lips tasted of the sweet vanilla scent he always smelled of. You felt the edges of his fingers play with the hem of your shirt.

Just as you began to drown in the moment, the door to the cottage creaked open. A familiar voice filled the room. "I hope I’m not interrupting,” Matt Murdock said dryly from the doorway, “but boy am I glad I can’t see.”

You froze, Bucky’s lips still hovering just inches from yours. A small nervous laugh escaped your throat.

Bucky groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as if to hide from the embarrassment. “Perfect timing, Murdock,” he muttered, his voice muffled against skin. In your defence, he was way early.

“You didn’t lock the door.” Matt chuckled as he stepped into the cottage, “Very careless for two superheroes with very sensitive information.”

Bucky sighed, not seeing a flaw in his logic, but when he lifted his head, there was a playful gleam in his eyes. “Yeah, well, you could’ve knocked.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh again. The way Bucky’s arm stayed wrapped protectively around you, even with Matt there, made your heart flutter.

Matt grinned, as if sensing the shift between the two of you, one that he hadn’t noticed in previous encounters. “I can tell you’re both smiling like idiots right now.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing the drive and tossing it in towards the lawyer. He caught it in mid air and tucked it into his suit pocket.

“Well,” Matt said, “I’ll just leave you two lovebirds to it. Next time, maybe let me know when you’re, uh, busy?”

You laughed, cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Will do."

As Matt exited the cottage, leaving you alone again with Bucky, the two of you shared a look, bursting into laughter. Bucky leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, and whispered, “Should I lock the door?”

“Good idea,” you teased, watching him quickly turn the keys and the deadlock, before picking you up, throwing you over your shoulder and running into one of the bedrooms like an excited teenage boy.

The world outside could wait. Right now, everything you needed— everything you deserved— was right here.

-end

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