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Handle Your Load | 1

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader | 6.7k

Summary: You have never seen Bucky cum before, and the reason why is more complicated than you initially thought. Not that you mind.

Warnings/Tags: 18+, MDNI, hyperspermia, lotta porn with a little plot, slight breeding kink, p in v, oral (f receiving), misunderstanding, reader thinks Bucky can't cum—turns out he very much can, verbally mentioned Ava x John jumpscare, ik Yelena is ace but let her have some fun

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Inspired by THIS POST by superbassbuck, kudos to you!

You'd had a hunch ever since you started going out with Bucky.

The dates were always wonderful, and he was nothing but a gentleman—never failing to hold the door open, always buying dinner full-fold, and incessantly insisting he walk you home after every encounter. He was the pinnacle of the chivalrous male figurehead, but your suspicions didn't stem from his public persona.

It was your interactions in private—specifically in bed.

And it wasn't the sex itself. The sex was great.

"Jesus Christ, Bucky," you breathed, sinking your nails into the fluttering delts of his shoulders as he pounded his hips into yours. Bucky held the headboard hostage under a white knuckled grip, his abuse of the bed evident by the repetitive sound of the wood striking the apartment wall. He hung his head, and his lips were forcefully parted by a shaky groan.

"You feel so good," he whispered, his voice strained as the muscles in his face tightened. "You're so good."

"Bucky, God—" you whimpered. "Please, don't stop—I'm so… close—"

You felt your stomach tighten, and your naked abdomen visibly constricted as your core squeezed his thrusting cock. Bucky’s pace stuttered at the sensation, a choked "Fuck—shit—" falling from his mouth as his eyes shot open. You thought you saw flash of distress cross his features as he slapped one of his large hands down on your stomach to steady his movements. His body seemed to crumple in on itself as he hunched over, heavy, knitted brows stacked on top of squeezed-shut eyes, and he pistoned his hips into your just enough more times to feel the fluttery sensation of your finish before he quickly removed himself.

You laid out on the bed, spread and satisfied as you slowly managed to catch your breath.

"Buck," you whispered, blurry eyes looking down the expanse of your shiny chest to see his back to you at the edge of the bed, still hunched over. You attempted to sit up, but your core wheezed in disapproval, sending you flat-backed back down onto the mess of sheets. "Bucky?" you asked again, exhaling slowly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just—" he began, but he seemed to bite his words, "—just give me a second."

"Okay," you murmured, staring up at the ceiling and waiting for the dots to clear from your eyes.

A few minutes of only the sound of your own weighted breathing stretched on before the mattress eventually shifted, and you watched Bucky's large frame crawl back to the top of the bed.

"You're sure you're okay?" you asked as he settled beside you. The cool metal of his artificial fingers bit into your side as he pulled you closer to him before he lounged the metallic arm lazily across your stomach.

"I'm fine," he whispered, his voice hoarse. The warmth of his breath engulfed your shoulder as he peppered soft kisses to your flushed skin in an attempt to reassure you. "I promise."

"You'd tell me if there wasn't something wrong, right?"

A mechanism in his arm whirled, and Bucky hesitated.

"Of course," he finally murmured. "What's my secret is your secret, too."

You nodded, momentarily satisfied by his answer.

"Good," you murmured, overlapping his metal forearm where it rested on your belly and sleepily tracing the grooves.

It should have been a red flag, but you decided to put the situation on the backburner. Maybe he was just having a bad day—maybe it was a cramp or even just a sudden sense of discomfort that had put him off.

Or maybe you were just overthinking it.

You hoped that sentiment would help you sleep that night, and it did. That was, until the following evening.

Perched at the end of the bed, work pants down to your ankles, and his face buried between your thighs, you were, once again, overwhelmed by pleasure. Your sheets were held hostage within your own bloodless knuckles as you leaned back on shaking arms, feeling as though you were about to see the light of God with how his tongue was working beneath your panties.

"Oh my God, Buck—" you moaned, a particularly sharp thrust of his tongue sending one of your arms out of commission as it collapsed. The change in stability had you wrapping a leg around his neck to steady yourself, and you felt a deep chuckle vibrate the entirety of your quivering frame. “You smug little—"

Your voice was cut off by a dirty suck, and that was the last of your second arm. You tangled your free hands into his grown out hair as you hips began to match the rhythm of his mouth, rising and falling from the mattress despite how terribly your core ached from the previous night's antics. Your clit nudged the notch of his nose, and the friction was almost enough to send you over the edge as your whole body twitched.

"Bucky, please, wait—I'm going to make a fucking mess—" you begged, raking your nails across his scalp and giving his forehead a push of warning. However, he didn't let up, his grip on your ass unrelenting as he only insisted you tighter against his face. He nuzzled his nose deep within your folds as his tongue worked your button raw. You felt your legs quake around his shoulders as you bit your wrist and came all over his face with a pathetic, stuttering whimper.

Words were difficult as you slowly came down from your high, a wheeze leaving your chest.

"Shit, Barnes," you huffed, your ears ringing as your hips twitched against the slowing movements of his tongue. You slid your fingers through his hair in a more soothing manner as he finally emerged from between your thighs, his idiotic grin glistening in the dim lamp light. "Don't look so proud."

"Why not?" he asked, placing a sticky kiss over the top of your mound before using the edge of the mattress to hoist himself up from his knees. "I can't be proud of pleasing my woman?"

"You can be pleased," you said, core crying out for help as you managed to sit up, eyeing the obvious bulge in his pants, "but I know what would please you more," you murmured, taking him by the belt and tugging him between your legs. You flicked your eyes up to his. "Let me please you, Bucky."

And yet, despite your infamously persuasive doe eyes, he seemed to completely shut down at the request.

"I can do it," he quickly said, taking your wandering hand by the wrist before you could even think about touching the zipper to his trousers. "Don't worry about it."

You narrowed your eyes at his sudden discomfort, cocking your head as you did your best to mask your disappointment.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "I think you might like it if I—"

"I don't want to make you do that," he said, tugging your prying fingers away from his fly. "You don't have to."

"But I want to, Bucky," you said, a confused chuckle leaving your lips before you could stop it. "I promise it doesn't make me uncomfortable."

"I just—I don't want you to think that you need to return the favor," he said as he strategically stepped away. His intentional distancing only caused your confusion to swell.

"I'm offering to help you, Bucky—to make you feel good. I don't—" you said, moving to stand and following him only for your weakened legs to insist you back onto the bed. You swallowed, looking up from your shaking muscles to where he had retreated to the bathroom doorway. "What's going on? I've never heard of a guy giving up the opportunity to get blown."

Bucky took the comment as an accusation, and his response was sharp.

"I just don't want you to, alright?" he snapped, his voice easily filling the room. Caught off guard by his serrated tone, you snapped your jaw shut and quickly looked down at your feet as embarrassment burned your cheeks.

After a moment of silence, he audibly exhaled like he was about to say something, but instead he simply closed the bathroom door. The cruel chorus of the inner fan extinguished any chance you had at potentially hearing what he was hiding.

"Shit," you grumbled into the suddenly cold room. You managed to finally get to your feet in the style of a newborn deer and grasped your ruined panties from around your ankles. You tossed them into the hamper and found a clean pair, muttering to yourself as you began cleaning up for bed.

By the time Bucky came out of the bathroom, you were already in bed, lights out, pretending to be asleep.

Unfortunately, he knew you better than that.

After fumbling around in the dark and attempting to keep his heavy footsteps quiet, the other side of the mattress dipped. You were briefly exposed to the cool air as the sheets lifted before a warm body settled itself behind you, heating the underside of the covers like a built-in sauna.

By his stuttering breath, you could tell Bucky wanted to say something. You could feel him ghost his hand over the curves of your side, but his hesitation was brief as he finally clamped his metal hand over your waist and tugged you back against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, breath hot on your ear. But you shook your head, repositioning yourself as he hiked one of his big, burly legs over your pair of already overlapping ones.

"Don't be sorry," you said. "I pushed you, and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable."

"I wasn't—" he began, but sighed. "It isn't you," he mumbled, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "It's nothing you did—nothing you ever do. I don't want you to ever think that," he said. "It's all me."

You let those cryptic words hang in the air and felt the corners of your mouth sink deep into your face when you realized you didn't feel any relief after being declared innocent.

"You..." you began, inhaling sharply as you overlapped his metal hand on your stomach and squeezed. "You would... tell me if there was something wrong, right? If there was something bothering you, or something that made you uncomfortable—"

"Nothing's wrong," he promised, but the hollow words traveled in one of your ears and out the other. Your head lulled, and you hoped he couldn't sense your disbelief in his attempt to reassure you. "Nothing made me uncomfortable, I just..."

The pregnant pause that followed did not aid his credibility.

"I get it, Bucky," you eventually found yourself saying, cutting off his silence. "You don't have to explain yourself to me."

His sigh of relief seemed artificial, as if it's purpose was to soothe you more than himself.

"Thank you," he murmured, offering you a kiss to the junction of your jaw, to your neck, and to your shoulder.

You tried to let it go.

You really did.

But God it bothered you.

And, with a more observative eye in the following countless bedroom encounters, with all your proceeding attempts at a blowjob continuing to be rejected, and with the notable lack of even the sight of his dick, you found yourself realizing you had never witnessed Bucky finishing.

Sure, he claimed to, but you never found evidence of such an act.

And you looked—you looked desperately and disgustingly.

But no, the mess of the deed was entirely your own; Not one speck of semen to be found.

You weren't sure if it was his clear dissatisfaction with you or the presence of an unyielding secret between the two of you that hurt the most.

"Men are disgusting," Yelena grumbled.

Ava hummed in agreement as she took a swig of her drink.

"I do not know how you two do it," she murmured, waving between you and Ava. "How do you live with such a creature? They are more like pet than partner," she said, sipping from her glass of hard liquor. "You clean up after them, you cook for them, you keep them entertained; What do they do for you, eh? Get you off?"

"Not even that sometimes," Ava mumbled into her glass.

"When me and Kate are together," Yelena went on, setting her cup down on the counter of the bar and raising her hands, "we are equal; do you see?" she asked, demonstrating. "I make Mac & Cheese one evening, she makes spaghetti next evening," she said, raising both her hands in a staggered fashion—one after the other. "When she cleans table, I clean dishes. When I get her off, she gets me—"

"We get it, Yelena," you grumbled. "Being gay is more fun."

"What's got your panties in a twist tonight?" Ava asked, noticing your sluggish attitude. "Trouble in paradise with Congressman Barnes?"

Your eyes followed the circular motion of your drink as it swirled in your glass, subtly bobbing your head from side to side as you decided how to answer the question.

"When you have sex with Walker, Ava," you began, meeting her eyes, "he cums, doesn't he?"

Ava coughed in surprise. "Jesus," she muttered, throwing back the rest of her drink and immediately gesturing for another as she glanced down in your direction. "Where did all that filth come from?"

You glared at her. "Just answer the question."

"Well," she said, sitting up a bit straighter. "He does—a lot," she murmured, tapping her fingers repetitively across the bartop. "He's actually very selfish about it now that you mention it."

"And you guys just hook up, right? It's nothing serious?"

She nodded, and her and Yelena's brows cocked simultaneously.

"What's this about? 'Barnes not satisfying you?"

You frowned, laying your head in your folded arms as your frustration began to overcome your confusion.

"No," you murmured. "It's the other way around."

Ava scoffed, and thanked the bartender for the beverage as he passed.

"That is joke, no?" Yelena asked. "What man would not be satisfied by you? You are very beautiful woman," she said, a teasing smile tugging at her painted lips. "I would know this."

"I have literally never seen him cum before," you said, voice breathy with exasperation as you glanced at them. You felt a worry line dig itself between your bunched brows. "I finally noticed it when he wouldn't let me suck him off, and I haven't been able to get—"

"Woah, wait a second," Ava cut in, face contorting in confusion. "Bucky wouldn't let you blow him?" she asked, appalled. "What kind of idiot is he? Did you bite his balls off the last time you gave him one?"

"And that's just the cherry on top," you groaned, slapping a hand to your face as you shook your head. "I haven't even done it to him before—he doesn't even know if I'm good at it!" you grumbled. "That's why I'm so fucking confused. He totally shut down the first time I offered, and I'm pretty sure I haven't seen his dick since."

"When was that?"

You felt your entire body sag as you sighed.

"Over a month ago."

Ava's entire face cringed, and Yelena shuddered.

"As in—no sex... or anything?" Ava asked.

You shook your head.

"Every time I initiate something, he gets me off with his mouth and then disappears into the bathroom where I assume he jacks himself off, but I can't even tell for sure because he turns the goddamn fan on. As far as I know he physically can't ejaculate."

The vulgar term earned you a strange look from the group of men a few seats down the bar.

"Maybe he cannot," Yelena agreed. "Man would be very embarrassed over inability to reproduce, no?"

You watched Ava slowly nod as she considered the idea.

"Yelena's probably right; he might be embarrassed," she said, throwing one leg over the other. "I know John would be. In fact, I'm pretty sure he would avoid sex all together if he couldn't—" She hesitated, "—perform up to normal standards."

You dug your palm into your forehead, closed your eyes as you tried to banish the guilt swelling in the pit of your stomach.

"Fuck," you grumbled, dragging your hand down your face as you shook your head. "How do I tell him he doesn't have to be embarrassed? I don't care if he can't cum, I just..." You felt your voice break. "I just want him," you said, looking away. "I miss him."

Ava and Yelena exchanged a look at your deflated posture, clearly unsure of how to proceed.

A warm hand settled on your shoulder, rubbing reassuring circles into a knot of tense muscles.

"Talk to him,” Yelena decided, leaning over the bar to better meet the low level of your eyes. "Bucky likes information straight; He does not like to dance around problems."

Ava nodded alongside the advice, gently squeezing the nape of your neck before pulling away.

"I have to agree. You're just going to have to face it head on," she said, taking another long swig of her drink.

"And if he doesn't respond well?"

The two women shared a look, but before the more sober of the two could answer, Yelena cut in, alcohol on her breath. "You come to Kate's place, and we celebrate freedom with strap!"

You managed to swallow your drink before you had the chance to choke on it, and Ava erupted into a mess of muffled laughter as the three of you received yet another glare from the men further down the bar.

Deciding to trust your friends and take their advice to heart, the next time you found yourself being undressed by Bucky, you probed the point of sensitivity.

"Bucky," you whispered against his lips, inhaling his exhale. Your lashes fluttered as you failed to capture the attention of his distracted eyes, his mouth continuing its tirade of affection across your jaw.

Hands under your shirt, roaming greedily across the naked skin underneath, Bucky pressed long, impassionating kiss to your neck. His teeth skimmed the junction of your throat, and his lips wandered lower, planting themselves across your chest as his hand tugged at the collar of your shirt.

"Bucky," you murmured as the suction of his lips relented from your sternum, "I wanted to talk to you about something," you tried, watching as he shifted to take the familiar position between your legs. Without thinking, you snapped your knees together, shyly meeting his eyes as he raised a brow.

"You talk, I continue," he said simply, grasping your legs and insisting them back open. He peppered the inside of your knees with sweet kisses, his hands smoothing themselves down your naked thighs as he melted into the sheets of the mattress.

"But this is about us—" you tried to argue only for your breath to hitch as he nipped at your inner thigh, "and I want you to actually listen."

"Do I need to prove to you that I can double task?" Bucky asked, but his threat was lost behind the booming beat of your heart against your eardrums. Your head fell back onto the pillow as you felt his fingers toy with your clothed slit, prodding over your twitching hole. "Because I will," he said, and you didn't miss the smirk on his lips as he pulled your ruined panties aside. And before you knew it, his fingers and tongue had teamed up against you, two digits sinking inside while his tongue prepped your clit.

"Jesus—" you gasped, arching into his tongue as you buried your hand into his hair. "Please, Buck, I need to—"

He only hummed in response, and the feeling caused your entire body to quake.

"I need—" you tried again, but your mouth fell open as he curled his fingers. Your grip tightened in his hair, pressing his face more insistently against your pussy as he forced a third finger inside and picked up his already brutal pace.

"What do you need?" he asked, your legs twitching at the sensation of his hot breath on your exposed slit. "Tell me."

"I need to talk—"

But he licked a long strip from your hole to your clit, shutting down that train of thought real quick. Your hips moved at their own accord, and you began desperately humping his fingers as your peak approached beneath the affectionate abuse of his thumb on your clit and his wet face against the inner fat of your thigh.

"God, fine!" you cried. "I need you, Bucky, please!" you whimpered, pulling at the root of his hair until the pressure elicited a grunt from him, and your entire body finally spasmed around his fingers.

He gently dipped his fingers in and out as you gasped for breath, and he pressed an all too sweet kiss to your twitching clit. You managed to get ahold of your exercised lungs, and you released a long, shaky exhale, the horny fog slowly clearing from your mind as you came down from your high.

Fuck, you needed to get a grip.

"'You alright?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to your kneecap as he pulled himself up to lay beside you. With you jaw hanging open, you continued to inhale ragged breaths, and your eyes slowly followed his movements until he settled on his back beside you, metal arm resting behind his head—pinned—and that familiar bulge pressing into the fly of his pants.

"Yeah," you breathed, flicking your gaze up to meet his. You could tell he almost immediately noticed the impish glint in your eyes.

"What are you planning?" he asked, offering you a lopsided smile as he cocked his head.

You moved before you could convince yourself otherwise, and, with your core stronger than ever, you threw your leg over his lap, successfully straddling him. The rough texture of his pants rubbed lusciously into your naked, sensitive clit, and the cool metal of the embedded zipper caused your body to arch into the sensation.

Bucky yelped at the sudden weight on the pressure in his pants, and his hands immediately grasped your waist. He desperately tried to bury his hips further into the bed in a poor attempt to flee.

"Hold on a second—" he grunted, every muscle in his face tensing in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I told you we needed to talk," you said, "and you weren't listening."

"Well, I'm listening now!" he barked, the muscle in his jaw jumping as his fingers dug into your flesh, metal arm whirling.

You pressed your hips into his, relishing the groan Bucky couldn't manage to swallow as the tendons in his neck popped and his head fell back into the pillows. His cock twitched beneath you, pulsing with every roll of your hips.

"Please," Bucky pleaded, face scrunched and his hands flexing at your sides. "You don't understand—"

He twitched beneath you as you settled a hand on the tight muscles of his abdomen and grasped his shoulder to anchor yourself. You bit your lip and dragged your clit over the metal of his belt.

"Relax, Buck," you murmured into his ear, watching his nostrils flare with a restrained exhale as squeezed his eyes shut and audibly swallowed. "I know what's going on," you murmured, ghosting your lips over his flushed pulse point, "and it's okay, Bucky."

The information seemed to make him sputter.

"You..." he began, but his breath caught as you ground your hips down against him. "You know?"

"Yes," you murmured. "Now relax," you repeated, pulling away and planting a kiss on the center of his forehead, "and let me take care of you."

You maintained eye contact with him as you slipped your hand from his shoulder and followed the grooves of his swathed chest down to the buckle fastening his pants. Your eager fingers easily worked the mechanism open, and you pulled the belt free.

Almost instantaneously, panic flashed over his face at the relief of pressure, and before you knew it his metal hand had encompassed your wrist, stalling your movements. And, as had happened before, disappointment flooded your face, and you were sure Bucky saw it as you looked up from where his hand had clasped yours.

Upon meeting those usually so assured, fearless eyes, your lips pursed tightly to keep yourself from getting visibly upset, you realized the expression on his face was not one of embarrassment; Cheeks that should have been beet red were unusually pale, and the sheene of sensual sweat on his normally heat-flustered body had gone sickly cold.

He was afraid.

"Bucky," you whispered, realizing it had been your actions that had caused him to react in such a distressed way. "I'm sorry—"

"No," he quickly said, once again pausing your squirming as you moved to get off of him. "No—I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be normal for you, I just—"

He looked away, every worry line on his face digging deep enough to do damage. You watched his jaw flex.

"I need to explain to you what you're getting into because I just—" he tried, pivoting his chin back forward but failing to meet your eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded out of instinct, but paused, and a significant silence stretched between the two of you.

"Bucky."

"...Yeah?"

"How would your anejaculation cause me bodily harm?"

Another pregnant pause, and you watched his face contort in confusion, eyes finally looking up.

"Anejaculation?" he asked. "What the hell is that?"

"It's when a guy can't ejaculate," you said slowly. "That's... not what you have?"

He blinked, and a sharp, uncontrollable chuckle rumbled through his body before he was entirely taken over by unrestrained laughter. You felt your face flush red at his hysterics, and you had to reach out and grab his jumping delt to stabilize yourself on his lap.

"Ane—" he tried but was immediately cut off by another impromptu chuckle. You hit his chest, and he finally managed to gather himself. "No, sweetheart, that's not what I have," he said, "but you're sweet for thinking it's that simple."

"Don't flatter me," you grunted, crossing your arms. "You haven't shown me your dick in weeks, and you refuse to tell me why. What was I supposed to think?"

He failed to keep that shit eating grin from tugging at his lips.

"Maybe I didn't want to have sex?"

You moved to hit him again, but he caught your hand this time. Bucky pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of your wrist before molding your palm around the curve of his cheek, overlapping it with his own.

"Don't be a smartass," you warned him, your face softening as he closed his eyes and leaned into the heat of your hand. "Buck, why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

He was clearly still reluctant to elaborate; that worry line nestled itself back between his brows as he absently swiped his thumb over the skin of your hip.

"I—" he murmured, narrowing his eyes. "I just don't want you to see me differently," he said, briefly meeting your eyes with a vulnerability you're not sure you'd ever seen from him before. "I like how you look at me now."

"Bucky," you whispered, leaning closer to encourage his fleeting eyes to look at you again. "I won't," you said firmly, "I promise, Buck. I won't look at you any differently than how I am now no matter what you tell me, I promise."

His eyes almost crossed as he stared at you, and they fell into a loose triangle pattern before he finally inhaled and slowly nodded.

"When I was with Hydra," he said, lowering his voice as he swallowed, "they injected me with an experimental serum. It was meant to be a replica of the one they gave Steve," he said, gesturing weakly to nothing in particular. "Most of their attempts at remaking it failed, so they made sure that if it did happen to work on a subject that its effects would undoubtedly be passed on to their offspring."

You stroked his cheek, slowly nodding along with the information.

"The serum makes my orgasms really overwhelming," he murmured, cheeks flushing. "It's... a lot, and it's always a mess, and I didn't want to..." He trailed off, and cringed as his eyes flicked up to you, "... fill you up... because... well... it can be uncomfortable."

You were quiet for a moment, and felt his chest rise and fall shakily beneath you.

"So... you don't have a problem ejaculating?" you asked. His chuckle was fragmented by lingering emotion, but he shook his head, squeezing your waist.

"No, I don't have a problem ejaculating," he confirmed. "The opposite really."

"And you kept this from me because you thought I couldn't... what? Handle your load?"

His entire face reddened, and he groaned at your filthy phrasing, shaking his head.

"That's not what I meant," he grumbled. "I was just... afraid you'd think it was gross and weird—think I am weird."

His nostrils flared, and he shifted under your focused attention. You noted his distressed expression as he awaited your reaction.

"Well now you've got me curious," you murmured, biting your teasing smile, and he finally let out a genuine sigh of relief. His demeanor softened as he chuckled again, and his hands squeezed your waist. "And I feel the sudden urge to prove you wrong," you murmured, tracing a finger across the fabric between his pecs.

"Jesus," he breathed as you leaned down and pressed another innocent kiss to his pulse, feeling it flutter beneath your lips. "What did I do to deserve you?" he whispered, every muscle in his body tightening as you resumed the gentle rocking of your hips.

"Not sure," you murmured, playfully biting the lobe of his ear. "You tell me, Barnes."

His hands hadn't eased their grip on your hips, not allowing you much leeway with your movements as you did your best to help him relax into your warm embrace.

"I must've prayed," he murmured, breathless as you slowly undid each button of his dress shirt, steam practically radiating off the revealed skin underneath. With the fabric fully undone, you slid your hands along the gummy sides of his lower torso and pressed your palms into his lower back, insisting his hips closer to yours. He inhaled through gritted teeth as the bulge in his pants slotted itself against your naked core, and you hummed, reaching back around to his front and grasping the waist of his pants in an attempt to lift them again.

"Pardon me for being blunt," you found yourself murmuring as his cock pulsed against you, "but you said the point of your super orgasm was to guarantee a baby, right?" you asked, reassuringly squeezing his side. Bucky's glittering gaze appeared almost far away as he stared up at you, but he managed a frantic nod as his nostrils flared with wilting restraint.

"Yes," he whispered. "Yes."

"Well," you murmured, barely able to contain a pleasurable hum as Bucky's hips inadvertently twitched, "do you think your serum can beat my IUD?"

The question finally seemed to snap the last of his restraint.

Before you knew it, you were being hoisted off of his lap, a squeal of surprise flying from your mouth as your stomach flipped, and your back hit the cushioned landing of the mattress. You blinked and had to scrub the surprise off your face as you looked over your parted knees to see Bucky looming over you, the holy sound of his pants zipper practically making you ascend.

"Only one way to find out," he grunted, and the tent of his pants fell flat as he finally let you lay eyes on his dick after weeks of separation. And oh how you missed the stunning sight; Already spouting with precum, his fully erect organ stared you down like it was making a promise.

Oh fuck.

You closed your legs out of instinct, but Bucky wasn't having your shy behavior. As he pumped himself to full height, he grasped both of your knees with his other big, broad hand and insisted your legs back open, revealing how pathetically wet you had became at just the simple sight of him.

He quirked a brow.

"Excited?"

"Shut your mouth, Barnes."

He grinned and settled himself over you, planting a stabilizing hand in the sheets beside your head as his heat filled the space between your chests. You found yourself panting beneath him, and your entire body flinched as he stroked the tip of his cock just above your twitching hole. You reached up and grabbed him by the shoulders as you mewled, head falling back at the sensation.

"Please, Bucky," you begged. "Please, I need you so bad—It's been so fucking long."

He let out a chuckle of amusement at your desperation, and gently teased his tip into your entrance a few times, the obscene suctioning sounds making you bite your tongue before he finally thrusted into your messy, swollen hole. You dug your fingertips deep into his traps, and your breath hitched as he sunk himself all the way inside, exhaling a hot breath over your chest.

"I forgot how good you feel," he murmured. "Too good."

You simply shook your head and raised your hips until they kissed his. He grunted, quickly pressing a hand to your stomach in an attempt to pin you down and stop your impatient movements before beginning long, slow thrusts into you. The coarse hair around his pelvis nuzzled against your stomach as he locked his hips into yours with every motion. His gentle, methodical pace enabled you to feel every ridge and vein of his cock, and eventually you even began to feel it's eager pulsing, already prepared to empty its seed inside your clamped walls.

As Bucky's pace began to quicken at the approaching ultimatum, you found yourself looking at him through hazy vision, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. That line between his brows was still prominently present, and his eyes were closed as he concentrated on restraining himself, his pace beginning to consciously falter. You watched a bead of sweat roll down his temple and noticed the way his arm was trembling beside your face.

He was still thinking—still worrying.

"I'm not going to last," he grunted, that tension in his face briefly wavering as he couldn't help but grind his hips into yours. You gasped, feeling the throbbing tip of his cock kiss your cervix.

"Good," you whispered. "Good, Bucky, that's good," you tried to reassure him, but he was shaking his head, his thrusts growing more shallow. You whined in complaint, hooking a leg around his hips to prevent his early exit.

"I can't do it—" he whispered.

"Yes, you can," you said. "You can—please! I want it—I need it so bad, Buck, please."

He bumped his hips back into yours, and you quickly trailed yours hands down his back until you could grip his ass, insisting him to pick up his hesitant pace.

"Jesus," he moaned into your ear, heavy headed as he rested his forehead on the bed. His lips ghosted your ear, and he mouthed your name. "It's—I can't—fuck," he groaned. "Where do you want it?"

You moaned at the question.

"Inside," you begged. "I want it inside, Bucky, please—"

An obscene noise left his lips at your request, and he began pounding into you, unraveling before your eyes. The wet slapping of skin filled the room as his hips crashed against yours, every hit of his pace pushing the burning tip of his dick harder against the entrance to your awaiting womb. You arched into his hand as he desperately palmed at your clit, and the simultaneous overstimulating pleasures had a stuttered cry falling from your loose jaw as your climax washed over you.

But Bucky wasn't finished.

"Are you sure?" he managed to ask you as you felt the muscles in his lower back tighten under the grip of your fingertips.

Barely coherent, a single word fell from your parted lips: "Yes."

"I shouldn't—" he tried, but the force of his remaining, stuttering thrusts indicated he was past the point of no return. He squeezed his eyes closed, and every muscle in his body seized as he made one last desperate attempt to pull out. Your second leg not only kept him buried inside you but pushed him deeper as he managed a panicked whine before you felt his hips jerk.

"Fuck," he bit, wrapping his arms around you as his pulsating dick fully emptied its load inside of you. Your eyes rolled back as the warmth spread deep within your stomach, and your walls devotedly clamped around his rocking cock, committed to keeping every speck of his finish within your pussy.

His seed burned your insides, and the victory felt glorious.

His heavy breaths fanned your neck, and the weight of his exhausted, ruined body rested on top of you. You gently gathered his overstimulated frame into your arms as his hips twitched, twining your arms around his neck and tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck.

A warm smile slowly pulled at your lips as you pressed a kiss beneath his jaw, and a breathless giggle left your lips as he slowly drew his cock out.

"I think those Hydra people overestimated—"

Every muscle in Bucky’s body convulsed, and he rammed his dick back inside, a choked sound leaving his parted lips as his cock spasmed and dumped another load inside of you. The fluid squelched as he desperately humped at your hole, hips sticking to yours with every push of his inconsistent pattern.

"Jesus," was all you managed to mouth as the warmth inside you mushroomed, spreading through your belly as he worked his seed further inside—making sure it would take.

His hips ground leisurely against yours, brushing your clit as he seemed to relax again only for you to feel his ass clench and his heavy balls contract before he fucked his hips up into yours once more. The breath was knocked from your exhausted lungs, and you could only whimper as he insisted his dick as far inside as it could possibly go, sealing off any chance of escape for his load as he poured into you once more.

Bucky sunk his teeth into your shoulder as his back hunched, a choked groan falling from his fallen, glistening lips. You vaguely felt a shudder overwhelm the entirety of his body.

"Fuck," he whispered into your skin, his eyes fluttering as he finally managed to open them. "Shit," he murmured, struggling to sit up from your ruined body as he cringed and slowly withdrew his wrecking ball of a dick.

You weren't sure you could move—you had never felt so heavy.

Vision still murky, your eyes weakly fell to look down your stammering chest at his blurry figure kneeling limply amidst your parted knees. Bucky's chin had fallen to rest on his collarbone, and his eyes were trained on what you were sure was a mess between your legs.

"Never mind," you found yourself mumbling, "they definitely didn't overestimate."

"Are you okay?" he asked, wincing as you huffed out an exhausted breath.

"Where does all that shit even come from?" you grunted, attempting to sit up only to immediately fall back down, stars clouding your vision. You zeroed in on the head of his dick from your fixed position, and your face contorted in exasperation. "And it's still fucking leaking!"

"Please, stop," Bucky groaned, running a hand down his face as he crawled up beside you. He rested on an elbow and met your drooping gaze. "Are you okay?"

You stared up at the ceiling.

"I feel defeated," you murmured, turning your head to look at him. "I couldn't handle it, which means you were fucking right."

Your playful disappointment had him cracking a smile, and he leaned over, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and your neck.

"'Think your IUD feels the same?"

You rolled your eyes and grinned, reaching up and poking his nose.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" you murmured, enjoying the confirming glint in his eyes. "We'll see; you might have a little super soldier running around in a year."

You followed his eyes to where he stared at your stomach, gently tickling the shiny, exposed skin.

"We'd have to get married then," he mumbled catching your attention. A fluttery sensation erupted in your belly.

"Maybe," you murmured, "on one condition."

He raised a brow.

"And what's that?"

You grinned and were unable to keep your eyes from flicking down to his still drooling dick.

"You have to do that in my mouth."

Bucky groaned, burying his red face into your shoulder.

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