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The air is thick with humidity and the setting sun refuses to let up the heat. The stake out was brutal, despite managing to spend most of it hidden in the shade, the heatwave has exhausted your over the past few days. All you want is to just take a cold shower and lay in bed, or maybe on the windowsill in hopes of catching some of the cooler night breeze.
But James Barnes seems set on ruining your plans, your life, and your underwear.
There he is, in his tac pants, thick, rough black fabric stretching over his thighs as he sits in one of the two armchairs in your hotel room, cleaning his guns and sharpening his knives.
And he does all this it shirtless, the bastard.
You drop the paper bag of takeout on the side table and kick the door closed, eyes never leaving him, even though he doesn’t show any sign of even noticing you. Your bag is next, thrown on the bed, followed by your cap, thin plaid shirt, your tank top and bra too. You kick your boots off next and rip your belt out of your jeans belt hoops. Still no reaction from your partner.
You walk over to the window, draw the deep red floor-to-ceiling drapes closed. A displeased grunt comes from behind you, bothered by the lack of light required for the task Bucky was busy with.
Finally you turn around to find Bucky still trying to sharpen a knife in the near darkness of the room. You close the distance between you and gently take the knife from his hands, place it on the table and nudge away all the other junk he’s got on the surface.
Bucky looks at you curiously, his lips twitching towards a smirk when he notices your state of undress and your worked up state. Your knees almost buckle when he shifts in his sit, his hips sliding forward a bit so he can spread his legs further for you. Him and his damn thighs will be the death of you one day, you just know it.
You stand in front of him, between those powerful legs and reach out to run your hands through his hair, kept short now, but still thick and soft. By the time your fingers reach his neck and shoulders, his thumbs are rubbing circles into your hips and his lips are leaving wet little kisses along your ribs and down your stomach.
“I want you.” You tell him and he makes a quick job of your jeans and panties, both ending up somewhere else in the room, you don’t even care where.
Bucky goes to undo his pants, but for once, you have other plans.
“No.” You stop him shortly and he looks up at you, surprised.
You grab his shoulders for balance and sit yourself over his left thigh. You sigh the moment the rough fabric touches your already sensitive core. You rake your fingers down his chest, short nails just sharp enough you leave pink marks under dark, short hair. You fingers find their destination at his belt, where you take good hold of it to help you with what you’re about to do.
Bucky sighs too, as he sinks back against the chair and gets comfortable for the show. He loves when you get like this, needy, bossy and most importantly, all his.
Using his belt as leverage, you roll your hips once, twice and your shoulders drop as pleasure starts to overcome you. Bucky’s metal palm touches your stomach, making you flinch at the cool feeling, but as it slides up your torso, between the valley of your breasts, you realise the cold metal feels amazing on your heated skin.
His fingers wrap around your neck, simply holding you and your eyes roll to the back of your head just like that. Because that’s just the effect Bucky has on you. Neither of you speaks, he lets you do whatever you want, same way you let him sometimes.
You alternate between short quick movements and long drags against him, the friction almost too much, almost painful, but you are so worked up, you don’t care. You start to pant as you work your sensitive clit against him and when he squeezes the sides of your neck just a fraction, you let out a moan so low, you don’t even recognise your own voice.
“That’s it, darling. Make yourself feel good.” Bucky purrs from the best seat in the house, thoroughly enjoying watching you loose yourself like this.
You want to tell him to be quiet, but you’re almost there, you’ve almost gotten what you wanted. You shift up his thigh a bit, head thrown back, eyes closed and lips open as you gasp for air. Your core meets the smooth leather and rough stitches of his thigh holster and with only a few more rolls of your hips, you finally reach your climax. Your own thighs clench around his as pleasure washes over you and makes your mind go blank and your body shake.
When you regain your senses, Bucky is rubbing your thighs with his rough palms and kisses your neck.
“Enjoyed that?” He asks you cheekily, as if he doesn’t know you’re absolutely mad for him.
“Uh-huh.” You grin dumbly, satisfied and a bit drained.
“How about we continue in the shower, hm?”
“Only if you carry me.” You peck his lips and chuckle when he shakes his head.
“You get really bossy on missions, you know.” Bucky says, but still helps you drape your arms over his shoulders and hoists you up like you weight nothing. He stands and walks to the bathroom, weapons and mission stuff forgotten completely.
“You like it."
"Oh, honey.” Bucky kicks the bathroom door closed with you still in his arms. “I love it.”