Words: 3.7K

Warnings: Kinda sad backstory but with a happy ending- reader is in an unwanted, unhealthy relationship she can't quite escape

"Of course Y/N won Cards Against Humanity—she has the most perverse sense of humor I've ever encountered," I can hear Steve lamenting from the next room.

I hang over the back of the couch to peek in where he fixes himself a bowl of ice cream. "Suck my dick, Captain Spandex."

Steve throws his arms up in defeat. "See what I mean!?" He points to me before turning to look at Bucky, who only smirks while trying to make up his mind on which sprinkles he'd prefer on his sundae. Steve tilts his head in my direction. "You don't even have a dick, Y/N."

From around the room four separate people gasp: "LANGUAGE!" at the same time—me being one of them, of course.

Steve rolls his eyes.

"It's a figure of speech," I explain with a shrug. I slide off the couch and join him and the metal armed hunk by the ice cream. Wanda's struggling to scoop herself some of the rock hard vanilla. I smile a bit to myself as Bucky quietly offers to help her.

"Is it? Is it really a figure of speech?" Steve still argues with me.

I steal the jar of fudge sauce he holds. "Yes. Don't question me, boy."

Bucky regards both of us, his best friend Cap and the enhanced agent girl, and chuckles. "I wouldn't question her, man. She could probably take you."

"Oh I know I could." I grin and help myself to a bowl. Humming over chocolate or vanilla, I place myself precariously close to Bucky's body. I quite like the closeness of him, I will admit. I can't explain why. And I very much appreciate how he doesn't move away as I inch closer—even going as far to reach around him for a spoon and brushing my hand along his side. "No one's safe from my wrath." I wiggle my eyebrows with a wink. Bucky smiles halfway and coyly looks away.

"Are we talking about Y/N's wrath?" Tony Stark's voice comes into the mix. He's been hiding away in his office this evening while the rest of us play games. It's raining outside and we're supposed to be "bonding". I suggested truth or dare and they all called me juvenile. Rude, if you ask me.

"Because I'm afraid I am acutely aware of her wrath. The laundry type, to be specific." Tony swiftly grabs my bowl of ice cream to eat for himself. "Thanks, kid."

"Hey asshole—I told you that was an accident." I cross my arms. "And that's my ice cream!"

"What was an accident?" Wanda laughs. She looks between me and Stark with her spoon between her lips.

Sam offers, "Y/N accidentally turned all of Stark's whites pink. Shirts, socks, underwear... all of it."

"Don't emphasize accidentally as if it wasn't. It was, and I swear it." I cross my arms.

"Swear it? On what? Your laundering honor? Now that's not something very stable to go swearing upon," Stark tuts teasingly.

Bucky's over at the table with Steve. He nods to the seat next to him when he notices me walking over. Smiling, I happily oblige. "Let's discuss your honor for a moment, Stark. You ditch us for game night and then come down for dessert? Talk about rude." I stick my tongue out at him and he laughs.

"Actually, I came down here on other accords. But I thought I'd reward myself with a treat, yes." Tony pulls out a chair at the end of the table over where Nat would usually sit. She's visiting Clint at his farm this week. The only other people here tonight are Bucky, Steve, me, Wanda, Sam, and a very quiet Vision. He seems to be kinda moody tonight, but I haven't had the time to ask what's wrong.

"And what are these "other accords" that managed to deter you from your bedchamber, Lord Stark?"

Tony grins. "Lord Stark..." His spoon wiggles in my direction. "I quite like that."

"Oh God. You've just created a monster, Y/N," Steve grunts. He kicks me lightly under the table.

Tony smiles. "Anyway, I came down here to talk with you, actually."

"Me?" I swallow some more ice cream. I've opted for chocolate with rainbow sprinkles. "What'd I do this time?"

Tony lazily stirs what had once been my ice cream before the bastard snatched it. "Surprisingly, you didn't do anything. Nothing bad, anyway. Not yet."

Bucky grins as I reply, "Don't speak too soon, My Lord. I always have something mischievous brewing."

"Unfortunately, we know." Steve sighs but smiles. He catches my eye over the table and grins wider. In the years that I've known him, he's become something of a best friend to me. No, more like an annoying older brother. Maybe grumpy grandpa? Not sure, but I still love him.

"Yeah, we do." Tony goes on to his point. "But what I came to tell you was that with that boyfriend of yours graduating from the SHIELD Academy, he'll be free to come to the compound on your invitation."

My spoon halts halfway to my mouth. My blood's gone as cold as the sticky substance that now drips onto my jeans.

"Oh."

Tony looks a bit confused. He must've been expecting a much... happier reaction. Instead, I look rather emotionless. "That is, if you're still together...?"

"We are." I set my spoon down. I feel Bucky's eyes on me; Steve's too.

"Well, it's up to you of course. But he's got the clearance now as long as you send out the invite. Just wanted to let you know."

I force myself to smile. "Thanks, Tony. I'll be sure to, uh, tell him."

Tony laughs a bit under his breath as he readies to leave the room. "Don't look so excited kid." He pats my shoulder on his way past. "If you really don't like him that much, just break up with him."

My eyes close momentarily, and I mutter, "If only it was that easy."

Thankfully Tony doesn't hear my commentary. Someone does though, and that someone is Bucky. He's sitting close, and his raised eyebrow clues me in as to his suspicions.

I wait a moment or two after Tony's gone to stand. "I think I'm gonna get a workout in before bed. Thanks for the game, guys. I liked beating your sorry asses."

"I'm gonna win next time, jerk. Don't get too cocky," Sam narrows his eyes.

"I'd like to see you try," I laugh lightly. Then I gather my dirty dishes and quickly deposit them in the big kitchen sink. I can hear footsteps following me into the kitchen, so I hurry to get out of there before having to interact with any of them any more.

Down in the gym I rummage around my locker for something more suitable to wear. I grumble and curse while struggling to fit into a pair of tight spandex shorts. Simultaneously I attempt to finagle my way out of the thoughts of my boyfriend.

I hate working out; I really hate it. I'm not a strong super soldier or even a regularly strengthened soldier. I'm an enhanced human: one who uses her telekinetic powers to try and help the Avengers however she can. They're getting stronger with my training that the team's been providing, but I'm still no superhero. Of course I'm not. I can't even protect myself against a single man. How can anyone expect me to save another?

"You're not using that right."

I startle at the voice that's appeared behind me. I turn to see that Bucky's there in his street clothes he'd been wearing upstairs. His long, dark hair is pulled back in a bun and his toned legs deliciously shown through the tightness of his jeans.

"I don't recall asking you for help, so..."

I'm seated on a bench of sorts. And while I've been turned to address Bucky, Steve's appeared directly across from me. He's tall and intimidating looking like I've never seen. He wants something.

"I could show you how it works," Bucky offers. I'm surprised at how much he's speaking. He walks slightly closer. "Or you could stop pretending to be working out and just tell us what's really going on."

"Okay, Dr. Phil and—and," I struggle for another clever name. "Dr. Oz. Dr. Phil and Dr. Oz: there's nothing going on. So if you'd just excuse yourselves." I give Bucky my back again and then stand away from Steve. "I'm gonna run."

Steve scowls. "You hate running."

"And I also hate being tag-team interrogated when there's nothing to talk about." I stick my tongue out at him over my shoulder.

Bucky's fast. He's leaning against the only working treadmill, not letting me walk away without looking into those big blue eyes. "Who says we don't just wanna work out?"

"Your face." I bop his nose and he smiles lightly. "I may have only known you for a few months now, Buckster, but that's still long enough to be able to read that handsome face of yours."

Bucky raises a brow when I use the word 'handsome', but he says nothing on it. Maybe he would've if Steve didn't cut in.

"I've known you longer than a few months, Y/N. Almost five years. You were just a kid when you first joined. So needless to say, I think I know you pretty damn well."

"Maybe you do, maybe you don't." I gently shove Bucky out of my way. He lets me move him.

"Stop messing around and just talk to me, Y/N," Steve sighs dramatically. I can hear him walking up behind me.

"About what?! There's literally nothing!" I don't bother turning on the machine yet. "About not wanting to invite Patrick to the compound? Well, I hate to disappoint you, but it's not a big deal." I click on the machine now. It slowly comes to life and I jog. "I just don't always want him around."

Steve angrily shuts off the treadmill. I stumble. Thank god for Bucky and that arm, because he catches me from falling off the side. I clutch onto his shoulder and hesitate in letting go.

"I didn't even know you had a boyfriend until a few days ago," Bucky tells me in a quiet voice. His eyes flicker from my face to my hands that are still on his shoulders. He doesn't make me let go. "Tonight was the first time I heard you talk about him. And when Tony brought him up..." he hesitates in saying more, so Steve interjects.

"We saw the look on your face, Y/N."

I swallow. "And what was my "look", Cap?"

Bucky's face is solemn, as is his somber voice. "Scared."

I scoff—quickly pushing away from Bucky. I stomp away with my heart hammering quite loudly. "You're a couple of drama queens—seriously. What a joke..." I grab my training bag from the floor.

Bucky speaks while I struggle with my bag's zipper. I'm shaking tremendously. "Y/N, if something's going on, we can help you."

"I don't need help."

Steve comes over. Carefully he pries the stuck zipper from my hands. He sets it back on track with ease and a softer look on his face than before. "You know I'm here for you, right?"

My throat's gone dry. "I—I do."

Bucky comes over with his hands in his pockets. "I may not have known you for as long, and you might not trust me like you do Steve, but I'm here for you, too. You were one of the only people in this world who actually cared about me when I was still..." he swallows stiffly, jaw clenching. He refuses to finish that thought. Instead he says, "I care about you too, doll."

"Doll?" I repeat softly. My eyes, wider than most, inspect Bucky closely. I wait for him to take it back. He only nods. "No one's ever called me anything like that before."  My voice is quiet. It's true, though. His nickname for me is a sweet sentiment—one of the likes I've never, ever known.

I give my head a brisk shake. "I trust you, Bucky. I do. More than you can probably imagine." In defeat I throw my bag back onto the floor. This is the moment—the moment of truth. "If I tell you guys, you have to promise it stays between us."

Bucky and Steve glance to one another. I see the concern and unease brewing in their blue eyes.

"Hey—eyes over here." I redirect their gazes to me. "You have to promise."

"I don't know if I can do that," Steve reveals.

I shake my head. "Then I don't wanna talk."

Bucky nods. "I promise, doll. No one's hearing a word from me."

Ultimately Steve agrees. Peer pressure from Bucky usually works. "Okay. Me too." He doesn't look happy about it, but he promises in the end.

I sit down on the stupid stool of the tool I'd been failing to use when they first walked in. Bucky leans on the metal pole above me and Steve sits on the floor. They both wait for me to speak. Eventually, after much self-coercing, I do.

"I met Patrick when SHIELD caught wind of me. He was on the team that tracked me. He questioned me; it was a part of his training. He hadn't graduated yet. He still won't until next week." I look to my hands with a deep breath. "But his father, his father is high in the ranks. That man is..." I look at Bucky. "He's evil. Pure evil. He tried to get me executed. Said it was "in the name of the good". I said I didn't pose any harm to the good, but he saw things differently."

I pull my legs to my chest and go on. "Anyway, most love stories start with the guy seeing the girl and seeing true love or some shit. Patrick saw me and he saw a project." I pick at the stray cottons on my shirt. "He doesn't love me. He's sure to tell me that whenever he's got the chance." My eyes lift to Steve's face. I'm scared of what I'll see there, because I care about what he thinks so much. All I can see is pity. Sighing, I go on. "Patrick's father spared me when Patrick told him he wanted us to be together. So I was spared—I was spared from the icebox because Patrick lied and told his father that I was an angel and he'd fallen in love." I twirl my thumbs.

Steve speaks. "What the hell is he getting out of this?" The disgust in his voice mimics what I've felt every day of my life.

"Someone to manipulate." My answer is short and to the point. "Someone to terrorize: abuse. Someone that he can tug around on a leash who owes him everything that he can give nothing. It's the perfect set up for an insane man, really. He's found someone who treats him like they're in love while he tosses them around like a ragdoll." I scoff humorlessly. "All because I have the ridiculous notion that my life is worth repaying the debt for."

Bucky kneels down in front of me. "And he's hurt you? Physically?"

I shrug. "I'm not strong enough to keep him off."

I see Bucky's jaw screw tighter. His face is beet red. Steve's voice is the one I hear, though.

"This can't go on any longer, Y/N."

I nearly laugh. "You don't think I've tried to stop it? He expects me to have his children, Steve. He wants little enhanced versions of himself running around. And his father's grown attached to the idea of his son being able to own me. He's the only reason I'm on this team. He thought it'd look nice on his son's resume, and that once I was here I'd get him a spot on the team as well." I hesitate to admit, "Which of course, I've already said I'd do. I was too afraid to tell Patrick no: no, this is my safe space and you can't fucking have that, too." I shake my head. "I just rolled over before he could hurt me."

Steve shakes his head, looking really damn sad. "And this has been going on this whole time? All these years...?"

"Yes." I swallow stiffly. "But sometimes it's not as bad. When we're away on missions, when he's at school—I don't really have to see him. It's only when we meet that I remember that being with him is hell." I stare at my folded hands. "I'm stuck."

"There's no such thing." Bucky's steady voice makes my head tilt up towards him. "There's nothing that we can't get you out of."

"It's more complicated than that..."

Steve interjects, "He doesn't own you."

"But he does."

"You're not his pet. You're not his property," Bucky says. "I know how it feels to be trapped and owned. But it's an illusion, Y/N. He doesn't own you."

"And what's he gonna say if you leave? You're an Avenger now. You've got ten times as much power as he does," Steve offers.

Bucky kneels down next to me. Hand on my knee, he softly says to me, "We can fix this, Y/N. This is all gonna stop now." His thumb rubs little circles on my leg, making me shiver. I keep staring into his pretty blue eyes. My chest tightens with the emotions his intense face is giving me. "I won't let him hurt you anymore."

I swallow stiffly. "Really?" I ask rather meekly. Bucky nods and I melt. I put my hand over his and he picks it up—kissing my knuckles. I feel my body erupt into little ripples of shivers and chills. His blue eyes peering up at me past his thick lashes make my heart skip in a way it never, ever has for anyone before.

Steve stands and grabs onto my shoulder. I lean my head against his side and he holds me there. Immediately I'm feeling better. "He's not going to get away with this. This ends today."

I close my eyes and relish in the closeness of both of them. Bucky still sits on the ground next to my stool and holds my hand while Steve stands above with an arm wrapped around me.

"Are you sure you guys wanna get involved in this?" I offer them one last chance to back out. "I really don't expect anything to be done."

"I'm in this for you, doll. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you." Bucky's word surprise and flatter me to no end. My eyes open and I stare at him breathlessly.

Steve smothers some of the frizzy hair on my head. "You know how much I love you, kiddo. I'm sorry I didn't help you before—but I'm going to help you now."

I smile up at the blond. "Thank you." I look to Bucky, too. "Thank you guys."

Bucky smiles softly. Steve tugs on my sleeve until I'm forced onto my feet. "I'm going to start making calls now."

"Now? It's late. You don't have to now." I give my head a brisk shake.

"No—this has been going on far too long. The sooner it's over the better." Steve reaches out to hug me and I reciprocate it fully. He softly kisses the top of my head before pulling away. "Thank you for telling us." He steps away, sort of looking at Bucky funnily in order to get him to step away for a second. "Can you give us a minute, kiddo?"

"Sure. I gotta change," I say and back away. I turn and go back to the lockers so that I can change back into my comfortable clothes from before. When I come back out into the gym, Bucky's the only one there.

"You didn't go with Steve?" I ask. I take a drink of Gatorade even though I didn't actually end up working out enough to deserve it.

Bucky shakes his head. Little brown stray hairs fly away from his face. "No, he said he doesn't need me to do anything yet. And I wanted to stay with you—make sure you were okay."

I smile softly. I stand next to him. "Thanks, but I'm better now than I've been in a very long time."

Stiffly, Bucky nods. His blue eyes waver all over me before finally he reaches out to hold both of my hands. I'm a bit taken aback by the gesture but I don't appear it. Then, carefully, Bucky draws me into his embrace. I press my cheek against his breast just above his heartbeat and close my eyes. His warm breath fans the top of my head and I sigh—wrapping my arms tight around his waist as he does the same to me.

"I'm so sorry," Bucky whispers. I feel his fingers playing with my hair.

"It's not your fault," I whisper back. I don't want him to move out of my arms. I like having him here. In fact, I want him closer. I want to be as close as physically and mentally possible with this man—in more ways than one. And so before I can doubt myself, I rise up onto my tiptoes and I lightly press my lips against his.

Bucky freezes in my arms. For the length of the kiss he's a statue. But then I pull away, blinking up at him, and he's drawing me in for another. His hand holds my cheek and his metal arm encompasses my body to drag me against his chest. In my entire life I've never felt as loved as I do in this very moment. All of my fears and troubles dissipate into nothingness as his mouth dances across mine and his hair winds up in my fingers.

Bucky pulls just enough apart to ask, "Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I've never felt so safe and loved by anyone in my entire life." I pause. "Why did you kiss me back?"

Bucky rests his forehead to mine and softly says, "Because I've never cared so much about keeping someone safe as I have with you—and I've never loved anyone as much as I do you."

I close my eyes again just in time to feel Bucky's lips back on mine—a soft, forgiving touch of his mouth speaking silent words that I'd never heard before: and he was telling me that it was all going to be okay, and that I finally found someone who really cared for me.