Steve
Steve had fully intended on buying some tiramisu to take home, but he’d been rather preoccupied toward the end of their dinner. Suffice to say that he definitely still had room for a little dessert, which was fortunate with the way Bucky was looking at him. Apparently Bucky liking his weight meant that he wanted to watch Steve eat, and Steve had agreed to like it too. Or try. He certainly liked eating, and if that’s all it took to make Bucky happy, he was happy to comply. He would take care of his boy.
“I could go for some dessert… what do we have?” Steve asked casually, hoping that Bucky would pick up on the subtext.
Instantly, Bucky’s crotch had a Pavlovian response to even the mention of food. “We have some cake,” he responded in an equally nonchalant tone.
Steve hoisted himself up from where he still sat on the ground, and opened the refrigerator. On the top shelf was a square red velvet cake, with frosting that proudly proclaimed Welcome Home Steve. Steve chuckled and took it out, not bothering to get plates. He plopped down onto the couch and patted the cushion next to him like he was beckoning a dog. “C’mere.”
Bucky happily trotted over and waited patiently while Steve got himself adjusted, then sat down in Steve’s lap. “Can I feed it to you, Daddy?” he asked shyly.
“Fuck yeah, baby, get over here,” Steve agreed enthusiastically. He shifted himself so he was sitting upright a little more.
Bucky pulled at his shirt. “Off.”
Steve leaned forward and peeled it off, feeling his stomach rest over the waistband of his extra-large 38 jeans. Bucky didn’t wince or look away; he didn’t avoid it, and he didn’t have pity in his eyes. He let himself study Steve’s new curves, and the blond was worried that he might forget to breathe. “You can touch it, too,” Steve reminded.
Bucky licked his lips like he was about to touch a priceless original Van Gogh. He placed both his hands on either side of Steve’s navel, spreading his fingers out to knead his love handles. He pinched the fullest, softest part right above his belly button. “I want to bite it,” he whispered, and Steve wasn’t entirely sure he meant to say that aloud.
“Cake first,” Steve prompted, closing his eyes. He felt Bucky tap the fork against his lips and he opened, letting Bucky place the forkful of red velvet inside. Thousands of words to describe the flavour came to mind, but at the moment he was content to just rest peacefully on the couch, his boy happy and safe.
An unknown amount of time passed, and Steve began to feel close to uncomfortably full. He could feel that the rolls of his stomach had pressed out into a gently slope. Bucky continued to feed him with one hand while he explored with the other. Steve was grateful for the pressure, as Bucky’s belly rub served both the purpose of Bucky getting to feel Steve, and relieving some of the pain of Steve’s fullness. Steve could feeling Bucky squirming more, growing restless. “How much weight do you think you gained?” he asked.
Steve shrugged, eyes still closed. “Don’t know. Twenty, maybe.” He took another bite of cake. “I’ll weigh myself later. I’m a bit too full to get off the couch right now.”
“You mean, you can’t get up?” Bucky asked, voice fucked out with arousal.
Steve cracked open one eye. “Kinky little shit. Didn’t say I couldn’t. Just don’t want to.” He found that the sheer amount of food he’d managed to eat put an uncomfortable amount of pressure on his lungs, and he was a little short of breath. A month ago, not even a two-mile sprint could make him out of breath. Now, he was panting just from sitting on his ass and getting fed cake. He was kind of curious as to how big his stomach was, and moved his left arm from where it rested on the back of the couch down to the side of his stomach, grimacing when he realised it had an actual side. He heard Bucky sharply intake breath, and opened his eyes.
“It’s hot when you touch yourself like that,” the brunet explained, without moving his eyes away from Steve’s hand on his own gut.
Steve flicked his eyes over to the coffee table, to see a little under half the cake remaining. “I think I’m good on cake for now, baby,” he stated, and Bucky set the fork aside. Steve pulled on Bucky’s shirt. “I want to see you.” Bucky whipped off his shirt and slung it across the room, where it landed on the tv. He leaned forward and kissed Steve, his own small torso pressed up against Steve’s bare one, skin touching skin. Steve reached his arms around Bucky and slipped his hands down the smaller man’s pants.
“I want to ride you, daddy, please,” Bucky begged in Steve’s ear, arching his back and pressing his clothed erection against Steve’s stomach. Steve agreed, and Bucky sat up to remove his pants and underwear. “I’ll get a condom.”
Bucky got off, and Steve undid the button on his jeans, belly pushing down the zipper. He lifted his hips with a groan and shoved his pants down past his thighs, too lazy to take them off the whole way.
Bucky returned with a condom and a bottle of lube, and Steve moaned as Bucky rolled the condom on for him. He gently lowered himself back onto Steve’s lap, and his anus felt so tight and good around Steve’s cock. “Too full, baby. You gotta do the work,” he grunted.
Bucky didn’t seem to mind, however, and set up a rhythm while he jacked himself off. Steve’s belly jiggled in tandem with their movements. “Daddy, yes, you feel so good… oh…” Bucky cried out.
“That’s right, my sweet boy. So good for me. Gonna do what your big fat daddy tells you to do, huh?”
Bucky let out an unrestrained groan when Steve referred to himself as daddy. “Yes, daddy, gonna do whatever you say… I’ll be good for you.”
Steve reached out and closed his hand around Bucky’s on his dick. “You are, baby, so, so good.”
“God, you’re so big… you feel so good… ah, fuck…” Bucky gripped onto Steve’s generous love handles as Steve jerked him off.
“Gonna get even bigger for you. M’gonna have a beer belly that gets in the way when I try to fuck you. You’re gonna make me outgrow my extra-larges.” And he meant it, too. He was 190 the last time he weighed himself, early January. If they were right in estimation and he had gained 15 pounds, that meant he was already over 200. They hadn’t discussed how large Bucky wanted Steve to be, but Thor was around 260, so Steve figured that was a good place to start. And like Bucky said, he was certainly still healthy. He wasn’t even considered fat yet, not really. But he knew he would be soon if he kept letting Bucky feed him whole cakes to the point where he was too full to even fuck him properly. And he knew he would let Bucky do whatever he wanted.
“Yeah, daddy?” Bucky whined, close to orgasm. Steve put every bit of energy he had into thrusting, lifting Bucky into the air a little, making obscene sounds as he fell back down. Bucky came, spraying come on his own chest, and Steve came barely a second later, growing flaccid and pulling out of Bucky. The brunet, exhausted from doing all the work, leaned forward and laid on Steve. “You make a really good mattress,” he remarked.
“I sure am fat enough,” Steve grumbled pleasantly.
“I love it.” Even as Bucky lay on him, he had a generous handful of pudge in both hands.