Say my Name-rewrite

"Tell me, Bucky...would you ever let someone take that from you?"

Bucky's POV:

The second her fingers touched the vibranium, I knew.

She already had her answer.

This wasn't a revelation for her—it was confirmation.

And I hated it.

I stayed still, too still, forcing my breath to stay even, forcing my muscles to stay loose when every instinct in me told me to pull away. To shut this down.

But I didn't move.

Because I knew she wouldn't either.

Her touch stayed light, deliberate, but I felt every inch of it. Felt the way it trailed over the plating, the way she was testing, reading me the same way I had spent weeks reading her.

Then, her voice—soft, knowing, but cutting all the same.

"You asked me if I ever let sex be more than just that."

I forced my jaw to stay loose, my shoulders to stay relaxed.

I didn't like where this was going.

She shifted slightly, tilting her head, her fingers still resting against metal. Still pushing.

"But have you?"

Her words landed heavier than I expected.

Because she wasn't asking just to ask.

She was studying me.

Waiting for my reaction.

I had spent weeks watching her, dissecting every move she made, pulling apart every calculated choice, every carefully constructed shield she had built for herself.

But now?

She was doing the same damn thing to me.

I didn't look away. Didn't let anything show.

Instead, I did what I had trained myself to do—I controlled the moment.

"You think you have me figured out?" My voice came out calm, even, but I knew she could hear the edge beneath it.

Her lips twitched, just slightly, but she didn't smile. Didn't back down.

"I think," she murmured, "that you don't want me to."

My fingers flexed at my sides, just for a second.

And she caught it.

Of course she did.

Her fingers stayed where they were, pressed lightly against the vibranium, refusing to pull away. Refusing to give me an out.

She was watching me. Too closely.

And then, her voice—smooth, deliberate. Certain.

"You're slipping. You've lost control of this situation."

The words hit harder than they should have, slicing through the carefully maintained grip I had on this moment, on her, on myself.

She wasn't guessing. She wasn't testing the waters.

She knew.

And she was saying it out loud, just to watch me react.

I kept my breath even, my body still, but I could feel it now—the shift, the imbalance, the way the ground had been pulled out from under me without me even noticing.

I had been the one peeling her apart, dissecting her, picking apart every carefully placed piece of armor she had built for herself.

But now?