Chapter Text
Looking back, it was all John’s fault.
Not that Bucky hadn’t given him a reason.
It started two weeks earlier, in the training room.
Bucky had been half-asleep, running drills out of habit, when John swaggered in with his usual “Captain America 2.0” attitude and challenged him to a friendly spar. It was friendly right up until Bucky wiped the floor with him—three times in under ten minutes.
John went down the first time because he underestimated the metal arm. The second because he overcompensated. The third because Bucky got bored and ended it.
Yelena had been there for all of it, perched on a weight bench eating a protein bar, providing live commentary.
“Walker, you are fighting like a man who learned boxing from YouTube,” she’d said, deadpan.
And when John groaned from the mat, she added, “Don’t worry. He is only one hundred and nine. You almost had him.”
John swore revenge. Bucky didn’t take him seriously.
He should have.
Because a week later, the team group chat exploded with a video titled “The Accidental Rizz Campaign.”
Bucky opened it expecting another one of Yelena’s cat memes. Instead, he got a compilation of his Congressman Barnes days — sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, giving speeches, smiling too much, shaking hands, helping an old lady up some steps — all set to some godawful pop song.
John’s caption read: “You only won the election because women over 40 wanted to fix you.”
Yelena sent seventeen crying emojis and a clip of herself wheezing. Ava sent popcorn GIFs. Alexei commented, “My little Yelena, do not flirt with politicians!”
Bucky turned off his phone and didn’t speak to anyone for the rest of the day.
That should’ve been the end of it.
Except Yelena never let a joke die a natural death.
By the time of the Thunderbolts’ press conference—a carefully staged PR event meant to show the world their “reformed unity”—Yelena had adopted “Congressman” as Bucky’s new nickname. She’d used it in briefings, on the jet, in training. Once she even addressed him that way during a debrief with Valentina.
Now, standing behind the podium lights, Bucky had the grim determination of a man facing an ambush he saw coming but couldn’t avoid.
Valentina was halfway through her opening speech, all polished charm and weaponized patience.
“…a team dedicated to accountability and international cooperation,” she said smoothly.
Yelena stood to Bucky’s left, looking like trouble wrapped in black leather and smugness.
“You nervous, Congressman?” she whispered.
He didn’t look at her. “I should’ve let Hydra win.”
She smiled. “No, then who would teach me about bipartisan charm?”
Across the stage, John adjusted his mic, trying not to grin. Ava had her head down, probably recording this for blackmail. Mel—Valentina's very effective and undervalued assistant —was watching from the side, face pale, already regretting every career choice that led her here.
Valentina turned toward Bucky, prompting, “Sergeant Barnes, perhaps you could speak to the Thunderbolts’ team dynamic?”
Bucky leaned into the mic, voice steady. “We work well together. Everyone brings a unique skill set to the table.”
“Mm,” Yelena said quietly. “Especially his jawline.”
He didn’t move. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
She smiled like the devil. “I said diplomacy looks good on you, Congressman.”
A soft laugh rippled through the reporters. Valentina blinked twice, her corporate smile tightening.
“Would you care to elaborate?” she asked sweetly.
Yelena clasped her hands, all innocence. “He is very good with the public. The people love him. Especially women of a certain age.”
Flashbulbs exploded. The laughter got louder.
Ava made a strangled sound somewhere between a cough and a snort. John looked like he was seconds from losing it. Alexei was beaming like a proud father watching his little chaos blossom.
Bucky inhaled slowly through his nose. “I’m going to kill John,” he muttered.
Valentina tried to recover. “Well, that’s… wonderful to hear. A strong public image—”
“—is very important,” Yelena cut in. “And Bucky here is practically America’s sweetheart. Just with fewer ethics violations.”
That did it. Alexei barked out a laugh that could’ve been heard from orbit. Mel turned away, shoulders shaking violently.
Valentina’s smile died a quiet death.
And that’s when Bucky snapped.
He stepped forward, grabbed Yelena around the waist, and hauled her clean off her feet.
“Excuse us,” he told the stunned room through gritted teeth. “We’re going to discuss team boundaries.”
He carried her offstage over his shoulder to the sound of cameras clicking like automatic fire.
Yelena was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. “Put me down, old man!”
“Gladly,” he said, dumping her unceremoniously onto a chair in the green room.
By the time the others arrived, social media was already having a meltdown.
John was gleefully reading headlines aloud.
“‘The Winter Soldier and the Widow: Thunderbolts Show Playful Side.’ Oh man, you two broke the internet!”
Mel was wheezing on the couch. “I worked for Pepper Potts! I had benefits! How did I end up here?”
Ava looked up from her phone. “Fifty bucks says the next article calls it ‘chemistry.’”
Valentina pinched the bridge of her nose. “If anyone asks, this was rehearsed.”
Yelena tilted her head toward Bucky, all smug grin and bad ideas. “See? You make people happy, Congressman.”
He scowled. “You just embarrassed me on live television.”
She shrugged. “Could’ve been worse. I could’ve mentioned the Daddy Issues.”
Silence. Every head turned toward her.
Bucky blinked. “…What?”
John nearly choked on his own breath. “Oh, God.”
Ava dissolved into giggles. “Don’t encourage her!”
Yelena leaned back, smirking. “Relax, I am only saying I have them, not that you are one.”
“For fuck’s sake, NO!”
The room erupted in laughter. Even Valentina cracked a smile before muttering, “I’m underpaid for this.”
And right then, Bucky decided that Yelena Belova had gone too far.
He didn’t know when, he didn’t know how, but he was going to get her back.
Because the Winter Soldier didn’t lose wars.