Too many things have been different lately.
Between the both of you, there had been too many silences just like this, but this time it was different.
It was different because you knew your kiss with Pietro had affected Bucky. This time the silence was because Bucky was upset.
Back at the anti-climatic ball, after your meltdown with Pietro, you both spoke for a few more minutes before you excused yourself. Pietro was disappointed at your sudden departure, but he nodded, not digging any further. Before you'd left he had given you had address and he told you you could stop by whenever you wanted. He reminded you to stay safe with a kiss on your forehead.
He didn't pry and you appreciated that. You put your ear piece back in and Bucky had taken extra long seconds to reply. The rest of the night his responses were one worded.
You both ended up finding Silas and Ashen's men by the corner of the bar. You had eavesdropped and was able to confirm that the delivery tonight was for a tested cure for the virus and it was going to be administered to Ashen's son, Ashens.
It was going to arrive at the back alley way at nine, but it wouldn't even be administered until tomorrow afternoon. Ashens would be transferred from the tower to his home.
"We're done here." Bucky's voice had come from your ear piece.
"What? We're barely done." You responded.
"Tonight is just the delivery. What I'm interested in is tomorrow. I'll have to stake. Let's go home."
"Buck-"
"Meet you back where we were."
beep.
The short walk to your hotel had been silent. Awkward.
You knew he had heard you. You were glad he did.
He deserved to know you had a choice in this. He also deserved to know you deserved better.
But what bothered you was that you knew the kiss bothered him but he was too proud to admit it to you.
You needed him to tell you. Him glooming was not doing you well.
Bucky had been frozen to the spot as he overheard you on the other end. He could move or breathe as he heard Pietro kissing you, as he heard you moaning for another man.
He could feel the blood pumping in his head along with the sudden feeling of pure regret.
He felt regret at not taking the initiative that he should have. He knows he has no right to feel the way he does right now, but he does. He feels the heartbreak and the jealousy over you kissing someone that wasn't him.
He had been wanting to the last two weeks. At first, he had held himself back, now allowing himself to go down that path of intimacy, but it had began to get harder.
Bucky was going crazier for you, bit by bit.
He knew what you two had was only physical, and he knows he has no right to feel the way he does especially with how he had pushed you away, but he regrets it all.
He regrets the way he handled it.
What killed him the most about Pietro kissing you though, was the fact that Pietro was clearly a better guy for you.
Something Bucky could never be.
Not that you even wanted him anymore.
It took him two months to finally want you for more than sex and you had moved on.
He couldn't speak to you. Not when it hurt him so much. Not when you drove him crazy the way you did.
He could still feel his heart beating just as quickly as it had an hour ago. What he felt around you didn't even compare to how he felt around Daisy.
His relationship with Daisy had been carefree and easy.
You were a hurricane.
He wishes he could tell you everything he's feeling, but he knows it's for the best that he doesn't.
You both take the elevator up to your room, silently. His eyes stays on the floor, his hands in his pockets.
Look at me. You think to yourself. Tell me what you're thinking.
After walking through the door to your room, you turn around to face him.
You couldn't see his face. He had been quick to avoid you and he was already turning the other way, making his way towards the bed.
The bed where he took your heart many times and squeezed it his fingers.
Little did you know that you had been doing the same to his.
His silence was overbearing and your heart tore at his facial expression.
He didn't hold that blank look he usually held when he didn't want to show emotions.
This time he bared it all for you. His face was fallen and he was trying his best to keep it down.
You hated this silence. You hated the lack of communication that complicated this relationship.
You and Bucky no longer made any sense.
This wasn't sex without feelings. This was far from it.
You had expected to gain so much more after your kiss from Pietro - freedom and strength. Instead, you felt confused.
He was still quiet and the tension in the loft was thick.
"What are we doing?" You asked breathlessly, breaking the ice and literally mentioning the elephant in the room.
What was this?
You watched as he loosened his black tie from around his neck, pulling it up over his sharp jaw and head.
"I don't know." He says quietly. His voice sounds broken, life he was on the brink of giving up.
He sits down gently, and the bed sinks down with him.
He reaches down and removes each of his dress shoes one by one. He does it slowly.
You walk up to him and stare down at him in a clouded daze of mixed emotions.
He's stopped and reluctantly looked up at you, eyes pausing at your hands for just a moment first.
Your face showed him that you were begging him to communicate, begging him to get off his chest what he needed.
It hurt you that he couldn't do it.
Again, he was unhappy about your kiss with Pietro and you needed him to tell you why.
Bucky's eyes fell back to the floor and he blinked away whatever it was.
He pushed off his jacket started unbuttoning his white dress shirt.
"Go to bed, sweetheart." He says with heavy emotion in his voice. It almost breaks off at the end with how much feeling he puts into the words.
His term of endearment shocks you to the core. Your heart swells deep within your chest. This is the first time since you've met him where he's ever used this tone and addressed you this way before.
You're gaping as you watch him continue to unbutton his shirt. His fingers were meticulously. Somehow in a dystopian and near apocalyptic word he still kept his nails trimmed and perfect.
Something so small that could go unnoticed but that said so much about his personality.
You find yourself moving closer until his knee is touching your left leg.
You feel the heat of his body radiating off yours. You reach down and touch his hand, stopping him from unbuttoning.
He stops and swallows hard.
He could feel the heat of your fingers on his own and it makes him ache inside.
What's happening to me?
"You want to know why I kissed him?" Bucky's gaze stays on the floor. He doesn't respond. No I don't, "I wanted my first kiss to be with someone who didn't take it for granted. For the first time, I wanted to be the one who made the correct choice," you let go of his hand, "but you already knew that, didn't you?" Bucky inhales deeply and returns to undoing the last few buttons. Bucky shakes the shirt off his shoulders and then stands up to go hang it in the closet. He walks right past you, not saying a word. You close your eyes tightly together, "Talk to me." You beg.
You turn around as he's hanging the shirt on one of the hangers.
His jaw is tight. You can tell his teeth are clenched and he's holding whatever he wants to say, in.
He moves onto his dress pants, removing them until he's in his boxers, and then he pulls out a pair of grey sweats, slipping them on.
He grabs a black T-shirt and puts it on, too.
He walks past you, still not looking at you.
Without thinking, you reach your arm out to grab him, and he stumbles back like you've burned him. You're shocked at his reaction and your eyes go from your hands to his own eyes. Your heart shatters immediately.
He gapes down at your hands and you can see the fear and intense sadness in his eyes.
You take a step closer to him and he gulps as you slowly bring your hand up to run over his hard torso and eventually up the side of his neck. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to keep it from trembling.
You look up into his eyes as you play with the short hair on the back of his neck.
"Please." It's the first time he's also begged you in such a small voice. His eyes close halfway as he whispers, "Please, no."
You feel the need to comfort him; to comfort this man who has done nothing but hurt you the way he's hurting right now.
You grasp the back of his neck with your whole hand, shaking your head to yourself as you do so. His head hangs low, eyes still closed.
"I'm not doing anything," you whisper, "what are you so afraid of?" He opens his eyes and looks away from you. He lifts his head and looks out towards the window behind you. He reaches behind his head and takes your hand, pulling it off his skin.
"Please, let's go to sleep." He says softly.
You watch in a daze as he spins around and walks down the hall and into the bathroom.
He needed a moment to breathe. He needed a moment to catch his breath and think.
After splashing his face with some cold water and brushing his teeth, he walks back into the room to see you already changed into a pearl colored silk camisole.
The edges graze your thighs as you crawl up the bed and towards your pillow.
The water did nothing to help him.
He still kept hearing the way you moaned as you gave away your first kiss.
All to get a reaction out of him.
Bucky flicks off the remaining light in the loft, his lamp, and crawls into bed next to you.
He pulls the comforter up until it's halfway up his chest and he pulls at his hair, look up at ceiling and letting out a long breath.
If only you knew the affect you were having on him. If only you knew how much he cared about you.
Your mind was else where than his.
You felt a need for vengeance. You needed him to hurt. Just like you had told Pietro, you couldn't let him do what he was doing to you anymore. He needed to respect you and if he wasn't going to own up to his feelings and finally speak to you, you were going to move on.
You had Pietro now, anyway.
So you had a plan.
"I want you to fuck me." You say quietly, looking out the window.
There's a long pause before he replied.
"I'm not having sex with you tonight." He tells you in a quiet voice.
You flip around until you're staring at him. He's on his back, looking up at the ceiling, a far away look in his eyes.
How dare he be the only one to make the choice?
You spread your legs a little wider and reached down between your legs. You reached under the band of your underwear and cupped yourself.
You kept staring at the side of his face, silently asking him to look your way. He didn't budge but you could tell he knew what you were doing. If your soft moan and the shift of the bed was any conciliation.
He blinked and swallowed thickly.
This was all he was good for now. He lost his chance and your respect, and all he was now to you was a human dildo.
As much as he wanted to tell you how he changed his mind about giving it a try and as much as he wanted to tell you how he was starting to feel, part of him was still afraid. He was afraid of his emotions getting in the way and of him losing you.
Especially when you now had a chance to be happy with someone else; someone so much better than him.
As much as he wanted your touch and your caresses, he needed to push you away. Push you into the right direction.
You were hurting him and you didn't even know it. Him pushing you away when he needed you, pained him.
You let out another moan. He closes his eyes, turning his face away from you.
You were hurting him.
"Please, y/n." His voice came out in a whimper.
You removed your hand from yourself, half sat up, and looked down at him. He still had that same sad look in his eyes.
Two can play that game.
You sensually dragged your fingers that had just been on your core over his bottom lip. You watch him for a reaction.
His eyes flashed to yours, stunned at your move, and you stared at your fingers on his mouth just as shocked.
Was this what anger pushed you to do? Vengeance?
You found yourself panting as you continued to touch his lips.
Slowly, he grabbed your hand. You could see what was only the lingering of tears in his blues.
There it was.
"You fucked me nearly every day for the last two months. And the one time I want you to fuck me the most, the one time, you say no." you say quietly. He swallows thickly, "you've used my body for two months," your voice shakes and he blinks, his eyes burning, "I'm just asking you to do it again. As a friend. It's not that hard, right?"
You could feel your own words hurt in your throat at your words.
You slowly lean down, laying half your body on top of his. He closes his eyes, sucking in a shaky deep breath. You lean down until your face in the crook of his neck, on his pillow.
Bucky gulped at the proximity, feeling his heart race like mad.
"If you can't say what you want to say, if you're too weak for that, you can at least show me using your body."
You ran that same hand that was touching yourself down his neck and over his chest. You find the bottom of his shirt and you slide your hand underneath, feeling his hot skin.
"I don't want to do this." He whispers, pained.
He almost changes his mind when he feels your hand change direction, going under his sweats.
But you stop just below his navel.
As much as you wanted to convince him and push him off the edge, you also didn't want to breach the line of consent.
Your touch was so gentle it burned through his skin and Bucky took it in. He closed his eyes tightly together, a soft cry leaving the break of his lips.
He was crying.
You lift your face from his pillow, looking down at him to watch.
He wasn't sobbing but there was definitely tears leaking from his eyes. One drop runs down the far corner of his eye.
He lets out a long shakey breath, still looking up at he ceiling. You feel his left hand grab the back of your head and he rubs your head. You feel his legs widen slightly and you wonder if it's an invitation for you to continue.
The proximity of your faces shocks you when he turns his head to the side to face you.
You can feel his breath hitting your face. And you lips are only inches apart. You watch him in awe as he continues to rub your head, his eyes searching yours as another tear leaks from his blue orbs.
He rubs his nose against yours, suddenly wanting to give you everything.
When you finally take him in your hand, Bucky's eyes close together tightly. You give him two slow pumps before you maneuver yourself so you are laying on top of him.
He watches you in a daze like you're a siren and he's a pirate who's been summoned.
You stretch your hands over next to his head, taking his in your own. Your camisole is pushed up to your waist and you sloppily kick off your underwear.
He leans his head up until it's in the crook of your neck.
"Not like this." He says quietly. You don't know what's he's talking about. You continue pushing his bottoms down until the back band is under his ass and until you see his length slip out. The tip is already oozing pre cum, now dropping onto his black shirt.
You feel the need to pour all your emotions into this fuck.
You swirl your hips and rub down until your folds are sliding over his tip, the velvety skins touching each other like two pieces if expensive silk.
Bucky involuntarily bucks his hips at the feeling.
You let out a delicious moan.
"What are we without sex, Bucky?" You whisper, breathe hitting off his forehead, "This is all we're good for, can't you see that?" You grunt, sliding down until he's half sheathed inside of you, "You've only treated me horribly, since the day I met you. You've never once gave me the chance to gain your honor, oh fuck, but this, this you always knew how to take from me, to give me—"
"Stop," he begs, breathing harshly into your neck.
"You might be a great fuck and a good friend, but you're not a good person." You continue to fuck yourself on his rod, rubbing your nose against his as your harsh breaths mingle together, "but that's okay," you put your left hand on the side of his neck, rubbing him tenderly there, "you're good for this."
A struggled and very loud moan escapes Bucky's throat and you feel his right hand go to your waist, stopping you.
You put you hand on his, releasing its grip, continuing to move over him.
You watch as more tears fall out of Bucky's eyes, his eyes snapping to yours.
"You've gotta stop." He whimpers.
You can't tell if he's talking about the things you are saying or the fucking, but he's a super solider and you know that if he was talking about the sex, he would've had more than the strength to fully stop you by now.
You purr as you look down between your legs.
"Look how perfect your cock was made for me." You say. Bucky moans, looking down with you, his own hips pushing up to meet your down stokes, "that's it. You hate me, don't you?" Bucky's hips falter and his eyes snap to your face.
"Wha—"
"That's right, you do. I deserve this. I deserve your anger, right? Never did anything bad to you a day in my life but I still deserve it."
Bucky was close to edge seconds ago, but with each word you're saying, he feels the need to correct you and he no longer want to cum anymore.
This was wrong. Everything about this was utterly wrong.
"You don't, y/n—" He tries to tell you before you cut him off again.
You've never felt anger like this. Never.
"Fucking fuck me, Bucky. For just one night pretend I'm her, fuck me like I'm her." Bucky's heart falls hard into his stomach and he sits up, stopping.
"Stop."
"Please." You beg through clenched teeth, "you've already made me suffer enough finish the damn job."
"Stop!" He shouts, grabbing you by the waist and pushing your off of his body.
He looked shocked as he stared down at you, his still wet tears running down his face.
"Are you serious?" You say back to him as he stands up.
He's running his hands through his hair, pulling on the strands as more tears fall out of his eyes.
His mouth opens and closes a few times as he stares down at you, still at lost for words.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" He shouts, stumbling back.
You take a note of how his cock is an angry red, bobbing up against his belly. Catch you, he pulls his boxers and pants up all the way.
"Did I say something that triggered you?" You ask through heavy pants. How does it feel to be on the other end? You want to add.
He's breathing hard too as he watches you. His face was crest fallen and broken.
He looks you up and down, sniffing.
"You've gotta stop this," he whispers harshly, his volume growing with each word, "whatever it is you're trying to do."
"What am I trying to do?"
His face crumbles.
"You're purposely trying to hurt me!" His yell stuns you, "It's hurting me!"
You're both trying to catch your breath as you stare at each other. "All night that's what you've been doing. You think I wanted to hear you kissing him? You think I want to fuck you like this? You think I wish it went down this way?" His voice becomes a whine. He closes his eyes and looks away from you running a hand down his face.
You tilt your head as his last question.
"What went down what way?" He lets out a pained chuckle, "What way, James?"
"Forget it Im sleeping on the couch tonight."
"What went down what way?!" You shout, banging your fist down on the bed, "You tell me right now or I swear to fucking god, Bucky, I am walking out that door right now and never coming back. I'm giving you a chance right now. Im giving you a chance to make this right."
Your mini lecture gives him enough time to catch his breath and compose himself. It finally dawns on him and a look of disgust fills his face. He tilts his head at you.
"So that's what this was? So that's why you fucked me just now? To persuade me into a fucking guilt trip? This borderline non consensual—"
"—Don't be dramatic."
"And then you talk about you feeling used. I'm just a guy, Y/N."
You both stared each other down. You suck in a deep breath as you take the hair tie from around your wrist and begin to tie up your hair into a bun.
"I'm so fucking over you. I really am. I was lying about the using me for sex part. It's obviously the only time we ever communicate anyway. I do get that out of it."
"Yeah that makes me feel so much better," he reaches down to grab the pillow and before he can take it, you grab it, "give me the damn pillow."
"Stop closing up on me."
"Give. Me. The. Pillow." You don't budge, "I don't have the patience for this. Especially after you almost jeopardized our entire mission with your little stunt today. Which was reckless and completely irresponsible by the way."
"Stunt?"
"Please, you put on a fucking show as you stuck your tongue down his throat just so I could hear and then you turned off your damn ear piece. This is why I've always said you've always been a girl who acts on emotion. Give. Me the pillow."
"You're lying."
His eyes twitched.
"What?"
"That's not the deal reason you're upset. You're upset because I hit a nerve."
He seethes, looking you up and down again.
"Look. What you did here tonight was the lowest of the low."
"You don't communicate." You say.
"What do you want me to say, sweetheart?"
"I want you to tell me why me kissing him bothered you so much you couldn't say one damn word to me."
"It doesn't matter why it does or doesn't bother me."
"Of course it matters. It means something."
"It means shit. Just because it might bother me on some level it doesn't mean I'm going to stop you from being happy, okay? You want to go ahead and kiss and sleep with other men, that's you doing you. We were never exclusive."
"Sure so that's why you overreacted so much —"
"—You didn't even give me a heads up! We had sex just an hour before you told me you were going on a date with the guy, y/n."
"And that's what made you cry?" After that question it goes silent. He avoids your eye and attempts to take the pillow again, "Bucky. Please."
He licks his lips and looks up at you.
"I can't tell you what you want to hear because it doesn't matter anymore." He tries to take the pillow again and this time you let him. He hooks it under your arm.
"Are you going to sleep there because of what I did to you?" He looks up at you and then looks away. He reaches over you to take one of the throw blankets, "Bucky?"
You reach over to touch his face and he flinches at first. This makes you pull away first.
"I didn't mean to scare you or make you feel like I was taking advantage of you." You whisper.
He looks down at your lips.
"I might be a super soldier and an ex assassin but I'm still just a man." He says quietly. You nod, reaching for the back of head, and pulling him into you for an embrace which he gladly accepts, "You can't do that again."
He leans his forehead on your shoulder, inhaling your sweet sent.
"Please stay here tonight."
"Okay. I'll stay." He gives your shoulder a kiss, "I'll stay. I'll always stay." He assures you as he feels you trembling beneath him.
He pulls away, cupping your face as he does so. He looks down at you and you share a silent conversation.
This was different.
This time, he's the one who rolls your dress up until it's bunched around your waist.
You're both breathing quickly as you watch him push his sweats and boxers down.
You whimper at the sigh of him, and he guides you a little lower, but you're still halfway sat up. He runs his right hand from your core up the inside of your left thigh, widening yourself for him.
He's knelt down between you, his lips still lingering over your shoulder. He grabs your right thigh and pulls it up so it's bent feet down on the bed. His left hand goes to your back, right over your bottom.
You whimper again when you feel him drag his cock over your clit over and over again, and then finally down your soaking slit. His nose hits the side of yours and you're both staring deeply into each others eyes.
"I got you," he tells you, "I got you." He repeats, sliding into you. His thrusts are steady and hard. He watches your face as you gasp and moan, your right hand going into his hair and pulling on it. You're both like that for about three minutes until he lays you fully back onto the bed.
He watches as you unravel below him and he can't imagine not living like this anymore. He doesn't remember what he even did before you entered the picture. He doesn't want to.
He stretches his arms around on either side of your head, keeping his thrusts steady.
"Fuck."
"I won't stop." He tells you breathlessly.
You clench around him and this makes him groan loudly.
He feels his end approaching embarrassingly fast and he reaches down to give your clit some flicks.
On the fifth flick you come undone and he follows you right behind, cumming inside of you. Your legs wrap around him like a vice and he falls on of you. Both your hands run through his hair as he breaths harshly into your neck.
He doesn't pull out of you this time and you don't let him.
This time he falls asleep in your arms.
For you, it's the last time.
