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By the time lunch rolled around, you had given up the shirt, stuffing it in your bag and changing into a lighter weight t-shirt you kept in your locker for emergency situations.You grabbed your lunch and made your way over to the usual table where your club would sit, taking a seat across from Gareth who’s eyes flicked to your shirt and then to your face. There was a smirk on his smug little mouth that made you roll your eyes. 

“Not a word, Emmerson.” you grumbled, picking at your food. Maybe if you stayed at the end of the table away from Eddie, he wouldn’t notice your betrayal of the club. Not that you were afraid of Eddie, but he could admittedly make you, perhaps, just a little nervous at times. And that totally did not have anything to do with the attraction you felt for him. Totally not. 

“I give it three minutes before he notices.” Gareth replied as Zack and Jeff made it to the table. Zack sat next to you, while Jeff took his usual seat next to Gareth. It wouldn’t be long before Eddie showed up now, taking his place at the end of the table. 

“You’re out of uniform.” Jeff said, looking over at you. “And you look like shit.” 

“Shut up, Jeff.” 

You wished you had a jacket or something to throw on, but that would also defeat the point of now wearing your Hellfire shirt. It was too damn hot and you have no idea how the others were able to wear theirs without burning up. You’d felt like shit all day, and even looking at your lunch was making you lose your appetite. 

A thump at the end of the table made you jump as Eddie dropped his lunchbox. You leaned back a little bit to gauge his mood. There was a frown on his face and his brows were furrowed as he opened his lunch. Shit. He looked pissed today, and Gareth had a shit eating grin as he glanced at you. 

“Don’t” you mouthed to him and shook your head. He simply shrugged, already knowing that you were gonna be caught. This was such bullshit, you were getting all worked up and worried about getting in trouble for a club that the school liked to pretend didn’t even exist! 

You felt for the guy, most of his classes were a moot point, and he really only needed to pass three more to graduate in May, and Ms. O’Donnell’s science class was known for being one of the hardest teachers in school. Eddie swore up and down that Principal Higgins put him in her class on purpose to flunk him and make him drop out. You suspected that he was right. 

“You okay, Eddie?” Jeff asked while you angled your body behind Zack so that it was less noticeable what you were wearing.

“Ms. O’Donnell has it out for me, I swear.” Eddie grumbled. “I swear, she’s a drill sergeant with all these damn pop quizzes she keeps springing on us.”

“You should get a tutor.” Zack suggested as Dustin and Mike showed up and dropped their trays on the other side of you. You met Mike’s gaze and his eyes went wide and he immediately looked away. Jesus, these freshmen were so dramatic. No one looked up to Eddie more than Mike and Dustin, the kids loved him. It was cute. Sometimes. 

Dustin had the good sense to just give you a normal greeting, knowing better than to point out what was already known to everyone in Hellfire except for Eddie. Actually, the tension for this was starting to build up as Eddie ranted about how he’s tried tutors but no one would give him the time of day anyway. 

If you were better at science, you’d offer but you already know that you and Eddie would be at each other's throats trying to figure out whatever O’Donnell was teaching. You already butt heads enough during Hellfire. 

You kept quiet as Eddie ranted for a few more minutes. You pulled a book out of your bag, pretending to read as your lunch went untouched. There was the beginning of a headache starting to make itself known, and you were heavily considering skipping gym next period. Normally you’d ask if you could crash in Eddie’s van for an hour in cases like this but you had a feeling that you’d have to either go to the nurse's office or find another place to hide this time. 

If this was a better day, you might have been able to keep your head down and avoid Eddie’s attention, ironically being the opposite of what you would have considered to be a good day. But it was not a good day, because it was a million degrees out, the a/c was busted in all your classes, you felt tired and gross, and Gareth just loved to stir the pot. 

“Hey Zack, can you throw this away for me?” he asked, handing over his empty soda can to the man beside you. If looks could kill, he’d be a pile of ash and dust as Zack got up to toss the garbage into the nearest trash can. 

You wished that you could shrink and disappear into the chair, but no such luck. It was at this time that Eddie finally noticed you, and you watched as his neutral expression of greeting shifted to one of annoyance. Usually, you found his expressiveness funny and endearing, but not this time. The energy of the table immediately shifted as all eyes were on you and Eddie. 

Shit. 

“Where’s your shirt?” Eddie asked, his large brown eyes boring into you. He was already in a pissy mood, and normally you’d stop yourself from pushing his buttons, but the pounding in your head was growing more insistent. 

“In my bag.” you replied in the same short tone as him. The rest of the club didn’t move, except for Zack who went back to his seat, looking around and wondering what happened. 

“You’re supposed to be wearing it. It’s Friday.” Eddie leaned over to look at you and Zack leaned back, not wanting to be the wall between you two. 

“I’ll wear it at Hellfire, Eddie. It’s fine.” you sighed, not wanting to fight about this right now. 

“Everyone else is wearing theirs, why aren’t you?” He wasn’t going to let this go. He flunked a pop quiz and had to feel some form of control. It was written all over him. 

“Because, Edward, it is a million degrees out and I feel like I’m melting.” Your eyes narrowed. 

“Yeah, but the rest of us still managed to wear ours!” Eddie looked super annoyed now, the frown lines on his face accentuated by the comically deep frown he was wearing. He hated being called anything other than ‘Eddie’, ‘Eds’, or ‘oh great and powerful DM’. You liked to use the last one when you were about to do something stupid in the campaign. 

“Eddie’s right, you know. We’re all wearing our shirts.” Gareth smirked and you almost threw your uneaten sandwich at him. 

“Well, you see, I was worried that if I wore mine all day I’d end up at club smelling like you and I didn’t want to suffocate everyone while playing.” you snapped. From beside you, Dustin snorted and Eddie gave you a warning look. 

“You know the rules, you agreed to them when you joined us.” Eddie reminded you. 

“Edwin it’s 90 degrees outside and most of my classes don’t have a/c!” you looked at him, feeling more exhausted by the minute. “If I put my shirt on, I’ll die of heat stroke before 7th period.”

He might have caved, he really might have if you hadn’t called him that. Eddie wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but as the leader of Hellfire he had to maintain some sort of order to keep his “little sheepies” safe. One of the perks of Hellfire was the protection that came with it. It didn’t stop all the bullies, but at least most of them would avoid messing with you all too much because they were convinced Eddie might snap one day. 

But you called him Edwin, and were challenging him, and you were fighting with Gareth again, and he already flunked another pop quiz. 

The two of you locked eyes, holding each other's gaze intently. The pounding in your head only grew worse, but you didn’t feel like backing down. This was so stupid, it was just a shirt! Yeah, this club was important to you, it was important to everyone here. So why did you have to-

“Can you just put your shirt on?” Mike finally said, and you and Eddie looked at the freshman, and he rubbed his face. “The a/c’s working in here, you’ll be fine.”

You honestly started to feel like you could cry from the stress of being ganged up on like this. 

“Yeah, but I’m so hot she might still get pit stains” Gareth jabbed with a smirk and you made a disgusted face. 

“Fine.” you finally grumbled and pulled the crumpled shirt out of your bag. You gave it a shake and threw it over your head like a scarf, not pulling it on all the way and leaving your arms out. “Happy?” you shot at Eddie. 

He wasn’t, you didn’t think anyone was happy with this honestly. But you were still burning up, everyone was staring at you like you were a kid throwing a tantrum, and as much as you loved Eddie, you were pissed that he didn’t even hear you out. 

But he was done arguing and leaned back in his chair. At least now he’d leave you alone about the stupid shirt. You leaned back in your chair as well, grabbing your book and tried to read for the rest of lunch. You couldn’t focus though, finding yourself reading the same lines over and over again while your head ached. If today had been different you’d be able to ask Eddie if he had anything that would help, but no such luck. 

“Are you gonna eat that?” Jeff asked, pointing to your lunch. When you shook your head and pushed your lunch box towards the center of the table, everyone reached out to lay claim to your forgotten lunch. 

You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you, and you angled your body away from him. By now, you were starting to heavily consider finding a sub for the game and going home to just sleep. You found yourself with your forehead resting against the cool wood of the table until the end of lunch when the bell rang, and you decided to just head towards the nurse. You only bothered saying bye to Dustin and Zack, who had been the only ones to mind their own business. 

You missed how Eddie’s expression had softened when you left the cafeteria.

It took the nurse all of three minutes to declare that you were running a high fever and that this wasn’t just a headache caused by the lack of a/c. Well, that explained a lot. Being old enough, the nurse said that you were free to go home and get some rest. Looks like you’d be missing Hellfire after all, and you wouldn’t even be able to tell them why you couldn’t show up. Maybe that would piss Eddie off so much he’d go full sadistic DM. 

Maybe he’d even kill off Gareth the Great. 

No, you’d never actually be that lucky. 

You slumped your way back to your locker, haphazardly grabbing books that you think you might have homework for and shoving them in your bag. The weight of your backpack only added to the exhaustion and fatigue that was quickly gaining up on you. You always got sick like this; perfectly fine until you weren’t. 

As you made your way to the parking lot to your car, the heat of the day was at its peak, beating down on you. You groaned and made your way to the car, throwing your bag in the back seat. 

“Running away?” Came a voice from behind you, and you didn’t even fully register it until there was a shadow behind you. You slowly turned around to see Eddie looking down at you with his head tilted. 

“Eddie?” your voice was quiet and exhausted. You’d already used the last of your energy of the day fighting with him and you didn’t have it in you for another round. 

“Jesus, what happened to you?” he reached out and pressed a hand to your forehead. You couldn’t help but lean forward at the touch, somehow his hands felt like ice in this heat and it felt good. 

“Overheated ‘cause I had to wear a dumb shirt.” you grumbled, and his hand dropped. You looked up at him, and he looked as though he’d been slapped, Guilt washed over his features and it was a little bit satisfying. “Kidding. Nurse said I have the plague and to go home before I infect the school. Says she’s never seen anything like it, and it’s probably a new virus that’ll probably kill me by the end of the weekend.”

Eddie always looked cute when his head tilted in exasperation. “Are you good to get home?” he asked. 

You gave a shrug. “Not like I have a choice. Also, why are you out here? You should be in class, Edmond.”

He ignored the name, knowing that this wasn’t a hill to die on today. “I’m skipping.” he said simply. “It’s just class presentations, and I wasn’t in the mood. I won’t be missed.”

“I’d miss you.”

Oh, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud with your actual mouth. That was supposed to be an inside thought. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, neither of you sure what to say. 

Eddie’s laugh broke the silence, “You’d be the first to care if I was at class or not.” he said.

“Yeah well, at least when you’re around I have someone to talk to.” You relaxed a bit, rubbing your face. 

There was another moment of silence and Eddie reached out towards you. You stared blankly, wondering what the hell he was doing before he pulled the Hellfire shirt off your shoulders. 

“I was a douche.” Eddie finally said, looking at you. “I was pissed and I took it out on you. I should have dropped it. I’m sorry.”

You hadn’t expected an apology from him. At least, you hadn’t expected one so soon. 

“The a/c’s out in the B wing.” you said as Eddie handed you back your shirt. 

“Yeah, I could smell it all the way from the library.” he gave you a half smile. He was fidgeting, moving from one foot to the other. He never could stay still, even if his life depended on it. 

“Smelled like Gareth in second period.” you laughed. 

Eddie’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and grabbed the back of your head, rocking it back and forth for a moment before dropping at your shoulder again. 

“Let’s get you home.” he said. “I’m not letting you drive like this. You’re gonna get yourself killed if you pass out behind the wheel.”

“I think my driving is still marginally safer than yours.” you laughed, leaning against him. “Seriously, how did you even get a license?” 

“Trade secret.” He led you to his van and you hopped in the passenger side and buckled up. You left your books in your own car but at this point you didn’t give a shit. 

“You’ll need to take me to school on Monday if I’m leaving my car.” you slumped into the seat. “Assuming I don’t die to death.”

“You can still talk, so you still have hit points. You’ll live.”

In a nicer fantasy, this would be a pleasant and relaxing drive home. Eddie would effortlessly get you home safe, while you dozed in the passenger seat, and he'd and carry you inside and lay you in bed. But this was not your day dreams, and Eddie will always be Eddie. He drove like a maniac down the street to avoid any teacher or truant officers from telling you to not leave school grounds, even though you two were legally adults. You were jostled around as he took sharp turns and your headache returned with full force at the loud music he was playing. You normally didn’t mind his heavy mental mixes but Jesus, he was not reading the room right now. By the time he pulled up to your place, you assumed it was a miracle that you were still alive. 

“You ran that last stop sign.” you said.

“It’s only illegal if you get caught.” he smiled wide at you. 

“Okay, well I’m going to contemplate my own mortality.” you snorted, opening the door, but his hand gently grasped onto your arm. 

“Are we good?” he asked, and you slowly nodded. “Yeah. I- we’re good. I’m not mad at you anymore.”

“Good. Good.” Eddie nodded. “Well, feel better okay? I need to go not-be-missed in seventh period.”

You turned and leaned over, hugging him close. “Give my germs to Mike and Gareth.” you whisper just as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Jesus Christ. If you get everyone sick I’m taking away every magic item you have.” Eddie groaned and you responded by kissing his face, feeling the faint prickly stubble on his jaw. “Hey!”

You turned back and opened the door again, flipping him off as you walked towards your door. You turned to look at him before you stepped inside, seeing him laugh and shake his head. He flipped you off too before tearing off back down the street to get back to school. 

A week later, you would arrive in the cafeteria again where the boys all had their shirts lazily thrown over their heads, only resting on their shoulders.  

--

“And just…there.” Y/N says, pressing her shutter button. “That’s you all done, Yelena.” She smiles, checking her pictures on her camera. “You wanna see some? They came out really-”

“Great.” The blonde sighs, rolling her eyes and walking off. Y/N sighs.

“Send the next one in!” She calls just as Yelena slams the door closed without another word, the sound reverberating around the room. “Thanks to you, too.” She mutters. 

Deep down, Y/N knows she can’t really blame Yelena, or any of them, for how they’re feeling. Just an hour spent in Valentina Allegra de Fontaine's company organising these shoots was more than enough for her, and showed how truly cruel she can be. She can’t even imagine how it must feel for The New Avengers to put up with her demands every day, and to be pulled in every direction, with constant photo ops, interviews and articles before she even lets them go on a mission. 

These photoshoots were another of Valentina’s ideas, one of her ways to make The New Avengers more ‘appealing’ to the world. Of course, everyone knows this is just to make Valentina look good, by proxy, but god forbid they actually say that.

A sigh escapes Y/N’s lips. She feels for them. She really does. And despite being ordered around like Valentina’s little lap dogs, they’re nice enough to Y/N. Yelena and Ava were quiet, Alexei was just…Alexei, and John was pleasant enough.

The door opens, heavy footsteps entering. “Hey! Have a seat and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be one second.” Y/N smiles, not looking up from her camera as she changes over her SD card.

"Hey," a voice says, and she instantly straightens up. Bucky Barnes gives her a small nod. Immediately, Y/N’s mouth goes dry, and she finds herself unable to speak. Despite her experience photographing the rich and famous, Y/N was terrified when she first found out she'd be photographing The New Avengers. Admittedly, a lot of it was because the thought of having to put up with Valentina again was so unbearable that it almost gave her nightmares. 

But it was mainly the prospect of meeting James Buchanan Barnes that truly had her considering running for the hills. 

Because everyone knows who Bucky Barnes is, especially her. She, like so many others, had watched, transfixed as The Smithsonian showed reels of his time with Steve Rogers and The Howling Commandos, had seen him and the other Avengers come back from the Blip, and defeating The Flag Smashers with Captain America himself, Sam Wilson. And that’s not even mentioning his political career.

So before she met him, Bucky Barnes had some high expectations to fill.

And somehow… he’s already exceeding them all.

“H-Hi.” She stammers, hoping her flustered state isn’t too obvious. “Do you prefer James or Bucky?”

Her question noticeably stuns him for a moment, and she sees the corner of his lips twitch up into a surprised smile, shocked that somebody actually remembers his actual name, and who he used to be. But before long, his smile fades, as if remembering he can never go back to who he used to be ever again. And it makes Y/N feel terrible. 

What a way to start their first meeting.

“Bucky.” he says, quickly. But there’s no malice or anger in his tone, and he even gives her another smile. It still doesn’t stop Y/N from feeling like shit, though.

"I'm so sorry, I never wanted to-" she insists, but he cuts her off.

“No, no. Not at all.” He shakes his head. “I just…prefer Bucky. Everyone calls me it now, so….” He trails off, and she nods with a small smile of her own.

“Of course. Bucky it is.” She stands there for a moment, admiring the man in front of her. The fact that he’s real, not just some man on her TV screen, still hasn’t sunk in yet. She’s not sure if it ever will.

“So….?” Bucky asks, cutting off her daydreams.

“Oh, sorry. Lost in thought there. It’s been a long day.”

“Tell me about it.” He rolls his eyes with a groan, making her heart sink again. Valentina may have hired one of the most talented and expensive makeup artists in New York, yet Y/N can still see the exhaustion etched on their faces. And Bucky is no different. His blue eyes have lost their sparkle, their joy. It looks like he’s just going through the motions. 

“Are you…alright?” She asks softly. “We can take a break, just tell me. I can get you some coffee. Or we could even do this another day, ask her to split the shoots up-"

Bucky’s eyes widen. “Oh no, no. I’m good. I don’t want her getting mad at you.” Her heart flutters then, flattered by Bucky’s care for her, even though they’ve just met.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” She insists, giving him another look.

Next time she sees Valentina, she’ll definitely say something, stand up for them all against Valentina and her demands. Yet deep down, Y/N knows if she ever tried to step out of line and go against her, Valentina would destroy her and her business before she could even say another word.

And she threatened as much, actually. That was when Y/N dared to question the background Valentina chose. 

“I’ll have you know, you weren’t even my first choice, but I thought ‘no, let’s support female businesses’-“

“You alright?” Bucky frowns.

“Oh, yeah.” She lies, taking a moment to adjust the lighting. Bucky keeps his brow raised.

“She’s been treating you like shit too, huh?” Seeing the look that crosses her face, Bucky shakes his head. “Y/N, I’ve been dealing with her for months now. I know what she’s like. It’s not just you, trust me.”

“Least I know it’s not personal.” She jokes, but there’s no humour in it. Bucky's face hardens, clearly angry.

“Want me to say something to her? Because I will. You've done nothing to her.”

“No!” she gasps, despite how flattered she is by his proposal. “You see her way more than I do. I’d rather she be mad at me for a few hours than take it out on you for the rest of your life.”

“Y/N.” Bucky says, his voice firm. “You're just doing your job. You don’t deserve this.”

“Neither do you.” she retorts. “Even though she has money, that doesn’t mean she can boss people around and treat them like shit.” Her words make him laugh, a proper, deep and happy laugh that makes everyone around them feel warm inside. His blue eyes sparkle, and she grins, glad to have made him smile.

“You’re brave.” 

“....Nah. I’m just a coward.” She sighs, shaking her head as a bitter laugh escapes her lips. “I bitch about how horrible she is and how we deserve better, but I’m too scared to actually stand up to her.” She sighs, setting her camera up. Bucky moves forward, placing his hand on her forearm.

“Hey.” he insists. Y/N gasps, her heart pounding against her chest. His touch is gentle, and her skin tingles from the contact. “The fact that you want to stand up for us means more than enough.” He smiles reassuringly. “And besides. I don’t blame you for being terrified of her.” He murmurs. “So thank you. Really.” He says. “But I’m okay. Promise. I’d rather you kept yourself safe.”

For a moment, they stand there, staring into each other’s eyes. But soon, Y/N remembers where she is, and reluctantly pulls away from him. She swears she sees disappointment cross Bucky’s expression for a moment, but it’s gone so quickly, she’s not sure. He stands back, striking a makeshift pose. “Where’d you like me?” he asks.

“Well, I like to let my subjects guide their sessions just as much as I guide them.” She explains. “I know Valentina has a set idea in mind, but this is my studio, so I’m in control.” Another smile grows on Bucky’s lips, this one wider, more genuine. And it’s enough to make her heart feel like it’s doing backflips. “We’ll start just over here, please, for now.” She quickly directs him to sit on a stool and pose. As he poses, Bucky bites his lip, and Y/N feels her cheeks grow hot, the blush creeping up her neck. 

God, he’s so beautiful.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect.”

“I’ll warn you now. I’m not the most photogenic.” Bucky admits, adjusting his curled hair, another of Valentina’s demands. “And this-” he gestures to his perfectly styled hair “is not me.”

“Valentina seems to think you suit it.” Y/N points out, checking her lenses. Honestly, she likes the look on him too. He looks like a stereotypical Prince Charming, straight out of a storybook. Very dashing and heroic. 

But the more she poses and shoots him, the more she can tell he hates it. Every time he raises his hand to adjust his hair, he freezes, as if hearing the echo of Valentina’s stern voice in his mind, warning him against stepping out of line. And it makes her hate this situation even more, the desire to stop Valentina burning brighter in her gut. 

As she continues to snap some pictures and direct Bucky, the more confident she feels around him. “Wanna see some?" She offers with a smile. Bucky nods, and she holds out her camera to show him some pictures.

“Oh, wow!” His face lights up. “I look amazing.” He smiles softly. As he marvels at the pictures, Y/N’s smile softens. After the hell he went through, she can’t imagine how Bucky must feel when he sees himself in the mirror each day. The hatred he must have when he sees himself, even though he knows it wasn’t his fault. But the way he gasps and smiles as he looks through her pictures, his smile growing wider and wider… she’s proud to let him see himself through her eyes. “Are you sure that’s me?” He chuckles, and Y/N grins.

“Of course it is.”

“You’re incredible. I don’t know what magic you have, but I want you to take all my pictures from now on.”

“It’s not magic.” She counters with a chuckle. “Just a very expensive camera and a fancy education.”

“Nope.” Bucky shakes his head. He raises a brow, tilting his head as he studies her. “You shouldn’t put yourself down like that. You’re incredible.” Once again, Y/N feels heat spread across her cheeks.

Even though she’s been doing this for years now, nobody’s ever called her that before. 

"Oh...thanks," she says, a shy smile gracing her lips, which Bucky returns.

“Tell me about yourself.”

“W-What? Why would you want to-”

“I’m sure you know all about us.” He cuts her off. “Especially me…the good and the bad.” He continues. “But I wanna know about you.”

“I can assure you, I’m completely boring compared to you.” She chuckles. 

“Uh uh.” He tuts, almost making her knees buckle again. “I told you not to put yourself down like that. He sits on the small couch in the corner of the room, raising a brow. 

“You know, most of my clients aren’t this talkative.” She chuckles, sitting beside him.

“That’s a shame.”

“You’re not gonna stop until I say something, are you?” She chuckles.

“Nope.” Bucky grins cheekily.

“I grew up in New York. Regular family, regular childhood, I guess….” But the more she shares her life with him, the happier she feels. Talking to Bucky is incredibly easy, and Y/N finds herself comfortable enough around him to open up more. Bucky listens intently to every word, asking her questions and laughing along with her little anecdotes. It’s like they’ve been friends for years, rather than having only met a few hours ago.

When she gets into how she began photography and then worked her way up to this, owning her own studio and photographing literal superheroes, he hangs onto her every word, enthralled. “That’s amazing. You’re incredible.” He gasps, and Y/N smiles proudly.

“Says the one who saves the world on a regular basis.” She chuckles.

“You’ve managed to wrangle all of us and deal with Valentina.” Bucky retorts, grinning. “That’s heroic in my book.”

The two sit for a while longer, continuing their conversation, everything else fading away. Until…. “Well, this is cosy, isn’t it? If you two are quite finished with the bonding session….” Valentina snaps, looking them up and down. “We do have a busy schedule today.” 

“Oh, we’re all done, Miss de Fontaine.” Y/N gasps, quickly getting up, her hand brushing against Bucky’s as she does. 

Something that does not go unnoticed by Valentina. Though she doesn’t say anything, letting Y/N and Bucky feel they’ve escaped her prying eyes for once.

“Well?” She raises a brow.

“Oh. Of course.” Y/N nods. As she loads her pictures onto her computer, Valentina watches with a scornful gaze. “See, we have some really incredible shots here, and the lighting-“

“Is this really the best you could do?” Valentina huffs, cutting her off. “I spent all this money, and you took three hours for these?!”

“But you said you wanted-“ Y/N frowns, hating how she’s immediately making herself smaller to please her, apologising when she’s done nothing wrong, when she’s followed Valentina’s wishes this whole time.

“Well, I’d have thought someone of your…caliber,” Valentina looks her up and down dismissively. “Would know what’s best and take the initiative. But maybe you don’t.”

Before Y/N can even open her mouth to defend herself, Bucky’s voice cuts through the air. “Don’t speak to her like that, Valentina.”

Valentina’s dismissive gaze turns to him, raising her brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. She’s done an incredible job, and the last thing she needs is you being such a raging b-“ Bucky cuts himself off before the expletive comes, and quickly clears his throat. “So cruel.”

“Well, Bucky, I think you’ll find-“

“We get it, you’re exhausted. So are we. But that doesn’t give you the excuse to take it out on someone who’s just doing their job, and who’s doing it well.” Bucky keeps going.

Valentina looks at him as if he just smacked her across the face. Her mouth opens, then closes. Y/N is just as surprised, not expecting that at all. Valentina looks at them both, her lips pressing into a tight line.

“Be outside in five minutes.” She says, her voice like ice. “And you-“ she rounds on Y/N. Immediately, Bucky steps closer, his metal arm moving as if to shield Y/N from Valentina’s anger. Y/N glances at his protective stance, her heart pounding. Valentina notices it too, and after noticeably weighing it up in her head for a few moments, decides it’s not worth it. “…Give Mel a call when the pictures are ready.” She demands, stalking off. 

As soon as the door slams closed, Y/N lets out a breath. “Holy shit.” She gasps. Bucky grins, pleased and relieved to have put Valentina in her place for a moment. “Thank you so much, but I was going to say something. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting her ruin your business. And it was nothing.” He shrugs. “I hate bullies, so….”

“You’re not gonna get in shit for that, are you?” Y/N asks. 

“No, we’ll be fine.” Bucky shakes his head with a smile. “Don’t worry about us. It’s you I’m more worried about.” The heat on her cheeks rises, and she smiles. “I'd better go, but thank you for today.”

She hands him a small card, and he glances down at it curiously.

“It’s my business card.” She smiles. “My email and phone number are on there, so if you want to catch up, or talk some more….” she trails off, honestly expecting rejection. Instead, it's the opposite.

“Got it.” Bucky grins. “I’ll call you soon.”

As the door closes behind him, Y/N sinks into her chair, her heart still pounding. “Did that just happen?”

Outside, Bucky smiles, glancing down at her business card. He shoves it into his pocket, sighing as he heads back down the hallway towards the others.

“Well.” Valentina’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. “Wasn’t that heroic?” Bucky rolls his eyes. “Protecting your little girlfriend from me.”

“She’s not my-“

“I saw the way you looked at her.” She tsks. “You really need to be more subtle, y’know?”

“It’s none of your business who I date.” He snaps.

“Oh, of course not! And you’ve got good taste. She’s very cute.” She replies, smiling. But Bucky can see the venom hidden in her smile. Like the witch in a fairytale just before she hands the princess the poisoned apple. “Maybe I’ll book a private photoshoot for myself.”

“Stay away from her.” He hisses, stepping closer to her. Even though he towers over her, Valentina laughs, unphased by his threat.

“I thought today would be a waste of time, but it all worked out perfectly.” She smiles again. “…Now I know how to keep you in line.” 

Immediately his body tenses, his senses on high alert. “Don’t even think about hurting her-“ She chuckles, laying a hand on her chest in mock offence, acting all innocent and harmless. “I mean it, Valentina, I swear I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” Valentina smirks, tilting her head. “Leave? Take me down? Without me, you’re nothing. Just a failed congressman trying to be a hero.”

“I was a hero before you came along.” Bucky retorts. “I can get by without you, we all can.”

“And what’ll you do? Go back to Sam Wilson?” She laughs mockingly. “I think that bridge was burned a long time ago, but by all means, be my guest.” 

“It’s your fault it got burned.” Bucky huffs. “I’m not gonna let you ruin something else for me.” His metal arm whirs, and he steps even closer, almost toe to toe with her. 

“And there it is. You wanna hit me, don’t you? Winter Soldier. That part of you never left, did it?” She smirks. 

Bucky recoils, images of blood, of screaming, of pain flashing through his mind. He’s been trying so hard with his therapist to overcome this, to deal with the nightmares and the memories. But now, they’re crashing back over him like a tidal wave. His heart rate quickens, beads of sweat forming on his brow.

"In. Out. In. Out. She’s just trying to get you worked up. Think of something else. Think of anything else-"

Y/N’s smile enters his memory, bright and friendly. As does the feeling he had when she called him James, and the tingle up his arm when they touched. 

“She’s not the boss of us just because she has money.” She’s right. All Valentina cares about is what he can do for her. But Y/N looked at him like he was somebody. Like he was James, not Bucky.

And slowly…he calms down.

Valentina simply smirks, knowing exactly who he’s thinking of. “With me, people can see you as something more. And they do.” She glances back towards Y/N’s studio, her brow raised. “Make your choice, Bucky. But just remember, I made you.” Valentina snaps. “And I can just as easily break you. And her.” She turns, stalking down the hallway.

Bucky glances back at the door to Y/N’s studio. He could tell Valentina to fuck off and go ask Y/N out, promising to keep her safe. And that’s what he wants to do. 

He knows that by threatening Y/N this is what Valentina wants, to get him worked up and be less likely to disobey him. She might just be bluffing, just trying to scare him, and he hopes to god that is the case.

…But he can’t take that risk.

He can’t have even more blood on his hands. Especially not Y/N’s, the one person in a long time who’s made him feel like this.

So, Bucky sighs… and heads back to join the others.

~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ ~ * ~ 

You held an umbrella tight in your hands, air whipping around you like a whirlwind, threatening to blow you down with a single gust. Well that might have been over exaggerating, but it was well within range to rip the umbrella from your iron grip. Splattering raindrops fell heavily on the small plastic tarp that made up the umbrella, sloshing down the pointed top and landing around your feet in little puddles. Stray drops slipping onto her cheeks, coating your skin with a sheen of cold water.

A shiver passed over your spine, winter was finally settling into your cozy little college town, and the weather was coming in full force. You wouldn't have been surprised if it started snowing tomorrow, but that was another battle, right now, you were more concerned with making it back to your dorm room in once piece.

And hopefully, mostly dry.

But it seemed the sky gods heard your hopeful pleas, and in your attempt in keeping dry, another strong gust blew your umbrella straight up, bending the little metal rods holding the plastic top covering your head, blowing back and exposing your entire body to the onslaught of rain.

"Crap!" You cried out, trying to reign in your clearly out of control umbrella.

But the wind had other ideas, blowing and bellowing around you, like it was laughing at your attempt. You tried to pry the arms of the umbrella back the right way, the way it was supposed to look, but the frail little arms screeched out in protest, wanting to follow the current of the wind, rather than your hand.

You grumbled a few nasty curse words at the umbrella, fulling knowing it wasn't going to cooperate.

You looked in the direction of your building, it wasn't far, another two minutes or so, you contemplated the thought of just making a run for it, leaving your umbrella behind, or standing there like a dingus, trying to fix something that was clearly broken for good.

The rain was splattering down heavier now, flattening your hair to your head, making it a little difficult to see, making your clothes stick to your shivering skin, goosebumps raising on every inch of exposed skin.

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment.

"Stupid piece of plastic" You spat at the umbrella, throwing it at your feet, like the offending pieces of metal and plastic had scorned you. "Can't even do the one job you were made for"

No one would blame you for leaving the umbrella on the walkway, clearly noticing the broken arms and upside down cone. No one was going to condemn you for littering, it's an act of kindness really, more than the umbrella deserved.

You hiked your back further up your shoulder, crossing your arms over your chest, tilting your head down a little. It did little to keep you dry, but you were a lost cause the moment your umbrella died, you'd given up on keeping dry. You made quick and precise steps towards your building, ignoring the chill that is slowly settling into your skin.

As if tormenting you, a clap of thunder boomed from somewhere behind you, and the rain followed tenfold, pelting you with icy drops of water.

"Shit!" You muttered, using your hands to cover your head from their harsh impact.

Now you were making a run for it.

Forget keeping equal steps to keep from slipping in the puddles that lined the sidewalk, you didn't care anymore, you needed to get out of the storm before the clouds decided they wanted to drown you in the middle of your college campus.

With a huffing laugh you reached the building, pulling the thick wooden doors open with a strength you didn't know you possessed. Warm air whipping around your water slicked skin, goosebumps returning. You took a deep breath, inhaling the warm air, filling your lungs.

You trudged up the stairs to the third floor, the elevator seemingly always out of order, you seriously cursed this day. Puddles formed around your feet with every step you took, squelching under your boots, making you cringe, thinking about the poor person who had to use the stairs after you, stepping into a wet surprise.

It was only water, they'd be fine, right?

You didn't care anymore, all you cared about was getting back to your dorm and getting out of these stupidly drenched clothes.

You breathed out a sigh of pure delight at the sight of your door, decorated with a whiteboard, your roommates squiggly writing covering the white backdrop.

Be back soon, meeting up with a friend, love Robin ❤️

You felt glad that Robin wasn't in the room, the last thing you needed was your roommate laughing at your misfortune. She'd do it out of love, obviously, but unnecessary love.

Having Robin Buckley as a roommate was a blessing. You'd been so scared that you'd have to share a small room with someone you didn't like, someone who didn't know personal boundaries, who didn't know how to keep a clean room or possibly even worse, someone who was obnoxiously boring.

But on the first day, you got stuck with Robin. A girl who was socially awkward and charmingly outgoing at the same time. She'd talked your ear off the first minute you met her, before falling silent when she realised you hadn't even introduced yourself to her. You loved her the moment you met, couldn't have asked for a better roommate.

She shared her love of movies with you, having the most expansive collection of movies on a hard drive, everything from the biggest blockbuster of all time, to weird indie movies in different languages. She had an expressive way of dressing, one day she'd wearing clashing colours of yellow pink, collared shirts with blocky stripes, khaki pants that you were sure didn't belong to her (they were like two sizes too big), to wearing black on black, chunky bracelets, layers of necklaces decorating her neck, black pleated skirts paired with ripped tights. On any given day, it was always a surprise; what Robin was going to wear.

You loved her confidence.

But with her confidence grew with you, the more she felt comfortable on calling you out on your 'dingus behaviours', a favourite of Robin's creative pass times. She didn't do it often, and she was well within her right when she did it.

Coming into your shared room, dripping wet, a dingus move indeed.

You were really glad she wasn't home right now.

You, with much difficulty, unlocked the door. You slung your bag off your shoulder, letting it plop down on the floor beside the door, ignoring the plopping sound that followed, following your slightly less damp boots, with a heavy thud. Trying to peel your coat from your soaking wet body, a different story, the fabric ignoring your pleas to cooperate. Clinging to you like a second skin, heavy with water.

With a huff, a lot of tugging and pulling, and a few jumps here and there, your coat finally fell from your body, landing on the floor with your bag.

"I hate the rain" You muttered to yourself, hanging the coat on the coat rack.

You trudged further into the room, bypassing the couch and the little kitchenet, heading straight for the small bathroom. You switched of the flickering light, waiting for a second, before the tiled room was lit up with dim yellow light.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Gah!

Well, you've certainly looked better.

Your hair was plastered to your forehead, stray strands sticking to your damp cheeks. Your white sweater was clinging to you, like a fluffy second skin, weighing you down by half a pound. You were dreading trying to take that off, and you didn't even want to think about your drenched jeans.

Wet denim, what a nightmare.

You smoothed the strands of hair from your face, twisting your hair into a low ponytail, wringing the water from your hair into the sink.

"Hey, I'm back!" Robin's voice reached your ears, sounding like she'd swung the door wide open, probably expecting you to have been sitting on the couch. "Whoa, what's with the water park in the doorway?"

"Sorry" You called out in return, scrunching your sweater up, wringing the water out of that too, not that it did much.

You sighed, deciding it was better if you just took it off. You lifted the hem of the sweater from your body, cringing again as the fabric clung to your damp skin.

"Planning a fun extra curricular without me?" Robin's teasing remark followed.

"Funny" You muttered, pulling the fabric halfway up your torso, tugging harshly, pulling left and right to loosen the sweater, huffing, a little out of breath. "I'm calling it, this has literally been the worst day of my life"

"Feeling over dramatic are we?" Robin chuckled, her voice sounding a little closer now.

"I feel I deserve the right to be over dramatic" Your voice was muffled by your sweater, having got it over your chest, now the neck was stuck.

You gave a little tug, wincing a little as it gave a little struggle, but a tug and a wiggle allowed it to give way, leaving you clad in your wet jeans, semi dry white cotton bra, and a sweater that continued to drip on the tile floor held in your hands.

"My umbrella decided to die on me, right at the moment the rain kicked up a notch, not to mention the wind, totally uncool" You continued after taking the sweater off, throwing it in the washing basket, a problem for future Y/N.

You took a towel from the hanger, swiping it across your skin, trying your best to dry yourself off, before turning your attention to your hair, wrapping the scratching fabric around the dripping strands, the towel sitting tall atop your head.

"I keep telling you, you need to get your licence" Robin's singsong tone teased.

"Yeah, cause I'm gonna take advice from my roommate, who also doesn't have a licence" You retorted playfully, switching the bathroom light off.

"Yeah, and if you get yours, you can take me places instead" Robin matter of factly replied, sounding smug in her idea. "It's a win, win"

"For you maybe" You muttered, feeling gross still wearing your wet jeans. "I've decided that wet denim was invented by satan, just to torture me"

Robin snorted.

You rounded the corner, not looking in Robin's direction, so used to walking around your roommate in a half state of dress. Robin had become accustomed to the act very quickly, living in such close quarters with someone, got you comfortable rather quickly, alarmingly so.

"Seriously, it's itchy, and it just sticks to you in all the wrong places" You whined, looking through the clean piles of clothes you left on the back of the couch, looking for a pair of your pajama pants.

"So, don't wear jeans when it rains"

"Hilarious, become a comedian would ya?"

"It's my backup plan, you know, if this whole college thing doesn't work out"

"You've got potential"

"Clearly"

"Your overconfident too, it works"

"Maybe you should put some more clothes on, I think you're freaking Steve out" Robin sounded like she was holding back a cackle.

You paused, lifting your eyes from the pile of clothes in your hands, to see Robin standing in the kitchenet, but she wasn't alone.

Steve, Robin's best friend, a man you've met only a handful of times, was standing beside Robin. Trying his best to look anywhere but your half dressed figure, cheeks turning a bright shade of red, arms crossed over his chest as he tried his best to act nonchalant, shifting his weight from his left leg, to his right.

You took a moment to admire him, what with him avoiding all eye contact. Taking in the way his hair seemingly flopped just the right way, brown strands looking perfectly styled, but in a way that one might mistake it for an effortless look. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt, a shirt that stretched right across his broad shoulders, looking a little tight around his chest, biceps peeking out of the sleeve, giving you a free show of his tensed muscles. His shirt was tucked into a pair of blue jeans, black belt separating the two tones of blue, a white and grey windbreaker was tied around his waist.

The outfit shouldn't have looked at good, but Steve seemed to make it work... he made it look cute.

All taunt and lean figure just leaning against the stove.

"Sorry Steve" You replied, feeling your cheeks warm.

"It's cool, it's your room, so whatever... Not whatever, I mean, you can undress all you want, NO, wait--" Steve stumbled over his words, still trying to not look at you, but he slipped up a few times, eyes trailing over her half dresses torso, cheeks turning even redder each time.

"Dingus" Robin muttered.

"I'm just... I'm gonna go and get changed, in my room" You replied, feeling embarrassed.

"Good, this is common space, respect it" Robin joked.

"Shut up" You retorted, taking your clothes in your arms, flinging your hand back, flipping your roommate off, which brought out the cackle Robin was stuffing back.

You huffed.

So much for that impression.

Steve probably though you were crazy.

All the talk of wet jeans and your stupid umbrella story, you wouldn't blame Steve for thinking you're out of your mind, who still had a little twinge of pink on his cheeks and couldn't quite make eye contact with you.

You tried your best to shake the thoughts from your mind, heading to your room, to change, and quite possibly bury yourself under your covers, never to be seen again.

"What was that?"

It wasn't the sound of Robin's shill voice that made Steve jump, it was the harsh slap that followed the question. Her palm slapping right across his arm, a harsh smacking sound rang though his ears.

"Ow!" Steve exclaimed, cupping his assaulted arm. "W-what was that for?!"

"For ogling my roommate like she's walking porn" Robin remarked with a knowing look, raising a brow.

"That wasn't what happened and you know it" Steve's eyes narrowed, looking at Robin with an annoyance she acquainted with his motherly persona.

"It's what it looked like from here"

Steve huffed, knowing no matter what he said, Robin was going to argue back tenfold with him, it was one of the few things she was good at.

"I didn't even look at her, I was being a gentleman" Steve narrowed his eyes, letting Robin know, this wasn't up for debate anymore.

"After you stared at her boobs for like, a whole minute" Robin muttered, pushing Steve with her shoulder, walking away from the taller man, practically throwing herself on the couch.

"That didn't happen!" Steve shouted, pointing a finger at Robin.

"Sure it didn't Stevie" Robin hummed, looking to smug for her own good.

Robin was only making this a big deal because Steve had mentioned, on a few occasions, that he thought her roommate was cute. He'd often ask Robin how you were, how college was treating the both of you, but paying keen attention whenever she mentioned you. Allowing his eyes to linger on you, the very few times he saw you in person, never having the courage to say more than a few words to you (something Robin torments him with on the daily, his lack of skills with women). He'd even made the grave mistake of asking Robin if you were single once, she couldn't stop gushing over his little crush on you, she never let him forget it.

But it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't!

Steve didn't know you well enough to put a name to whatever it was he was feeling, it certainly wasn't a crush. But he'd be lying if he didn't think you were insanely attractive, and seeing you in a pair of jeans that looked like a second skin stuck to your thighs, making your butt look all the more fuller and perky. Not to mention the bra, if Steve thought about it too long, he was sure he was going to pitch a tent. If he closed his eyes, he could picture your smooth skin, all supple and glistening with droplets of water. The cotton bra wasn't fancy, but it made your breasts look perky and ready for his awaiting hands--

No, stop it!

Steve shook his head, a little harder than he intended, to try and shake the thoughts of you from his mind.

The last thing he needed was for you to come back into the room and see Steve standing in your little kitchenet with a boner.

Yeah, that wasn't going to get him anywhere.

"She lives!" Robin's voice brought him back for good.

"Reluctantly so" Your soft voice returned the humour, throwing yourself onto the other end of the couch, still a little flustered, courtesy of Steve.

You turned your head, making eye contact with Steve. You gave a subtle smile, tilting your head.

They've been there for a while and Y/N has had more alcohol than she should've. She lost her boyfriend and friends a while ago. She somehow ended up talking with a few kooks, not finding as unbearable as she would sober.

The group slowly dispersed, leaving only Y/N and a guy. She keeps on going on drunk rambles while he sits next to her.

"Hey, so, uh... why don't we go up to a room?" He suggests. "You know, to-- to be more alone. Hear better."

"Oh, uh, I... I really shouldn't. I have a boyfriend, so I-- I should go find him." Y/N says.

"He hasn't been here all night. Don't you think if he cared more, he'd be with you. Come on. It'll be fine." The guy pulls her to her feet.

"Mm. No. No, I-- no." Y/N tries to fight against him, but is too weak due to how much alcohol she drank. "I-I really don't want to..." She slurs, struggling to stay on her fight.

"It's fine, baby. You're good." The guy says, wrapping his arm around her waist. He leads her up the stairs, missing Pope catch them. He immediately rushes through the crowd to find JJ.

"Dude, dude." Pope tugs on JJ's arm.

"In a minute, bro." JJ says, in the middle of beer pong.

"JJ." Pope hisses, yanking the blonde closer to him. "Some guy just took Y/N upstairs."

"What?" JJ asks.

"She was basically passed out. She could barely walk." Pope says. JJ feels his heart drop and he immediately ditches the game, racing to the stairs. Pope follows him, the other three catching them and following.

"What's wrong?" Kie asks.

"Some guy has Y/N." Pope says.

They get upstairs, JJ slamming each door open until they find the correct room. JJ slams the door open, anger radiating off him when he finds Y/N lying on the bed with a guy hovering over her and kissing her neck. Her hand is on his shoulder, trying to push him away, but it doesn't do much.

"Hey, get out of here!" The guy yells, throwing an empty red cup at them.

"Get the fuck off of her!" JJ growls, yanking the guy off the bed and slamming him against the wall. Kie and Sarah immediately rush over to Y/N to check on her. "You ever fucking touch her again, I'm gonna fucking kill you." JJ sneers.

"Ah, you must be the boyfriend." The guy chuckles. "Relax, man. It was just a little fun."

JJ punches him before punching him again. JJ delivers another hit, sending the guy to the floor. JJ continues to punch and kick at him until Pope and John B manage to pull him away.

"Hey, hey, hey." Pope says.

"JJ. JJ, stop. Stop. JJ!" John B yells. "Come on. Let's just get Y/N out of here, all right?" JJ calms down at his girlfriend's name and he takes a few deep breaths. JJ walks over to the bed, his heart breaking at Y/N's state.

"Hey." He softly says, cupping her cheek. Y/N manages to open her eyes, but only for a few seconds.

"J.." She mumbles, reaching around until she's holding his wrist.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here, baby." He says. "Come on. Let's get you outta here." JJ picks her up, carrying her out of the room. Y/N rests her head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat.

- - -

They get back to the chateau and JJ stays close behind Y/N as she stumbles into the house.

"Babe, really, I-I can carry you." JJ offers.

"No. No. I am-- I am an... a independent-pendence woman. I can walk." Y/N says.

"Uh-huh." JJ nods. He holds his hands out, ready to catch her if she completely loses her balance. They make it to the spare bedroom where JJ stays whenever he isn't home. Y/N clumsily gets in the bed, pulling the covers up and lying down. She lets out a small noise of comfort, digging her face into the pillow.

JJ pulls the end of the covers up so he can see her feet. He takes her shoes off, dropping them on the floor. He covers her feet back up and slides his own shoes off, getting in bed next to her.

"I didn't... I told him no." Y/N mumbles, her words still a little slurred.

"I know, baby. I know. Don't worry about it. Just get some sleep." JJ says, stroking her hair. Y/N cuddles into his chest and JJ kisses her forehead.

- - -

Y/N wakes up, feeling around the bed, frowning when she doesn't feel her boyfriend. She opens her eyes, finding the room empty. She looks up when she hears footsteps, watching JJ walk in with toast and a gatorade.

"Hey." He softly greets, smiling a little.

"Hi." She mumbles, sitting up.

"How you feeling?" He asks, handing her the gatorade and he puts the toast on the table.

"Tired. My head hurts." Y/N mumbles.

"Ah. Right." JJ takes a bottle of pills out of his pocket. He takes two out and gives them to Y/N who downs them with the gatorade.

"I'm sorry." Y/N says, keeping her gaze down.

"For what?" JJ asks.

"For... for whatever happened. I don't-- I don't remember most of it. I-I know I told him "no" and I know he got me upstairs, but I don't remember all the details. And I got way too drunk, especially too drunk to be alone. And-and I was hanging out with some kooks and somehow it ended up to be just me and him and I-- I don't know when that happened, I--"

"Hey, hey, hey." JJ cups her cheek, getting her to look at him. "You have nothing to apologize for." He states. "You drank, and that's fine. Whatever -- we all drank. You tried to tell him "no" and he didn't listen and I kicked his fucking ass for it."

Y/N smiles a little, shaking her head.

"None of this was your fault." JJ assures.

"You're not mad I was with a guy? Alone?" Y/N asks.

"Okay, A. you guys were in a crowded room at a party, anyway. And B. despite popular, toxic believes, you are allowed to have guy friends. Which includes guy friends. But only one boyfriend." JJ says.

"Mm. Don't worry. You're the only boyfriend I ever want. Promise." Y/N says, smiling.

"Good. Because you're the only girlfriend I ever want." JJ grins.

Y/N giggles, kissing him.