#KB Home | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vunblr · 2 months ago

Text

Lush.

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected Sex. Some fluff. Slight Angst. Body Insecurity (Bucky). Size kink. Use of pet names. Finger sucking.

Summary: After Bucky is reminded by an offending shirt that his body isn't what it used to be, Sugarplum finds just the right way to get him out of his head.

Word Count: 4.1k.

notes: This fic can be read as a standalone, but is a filthy follow-up of Plump and Ripe.

This is one of the works I'm submitting for the @avengers-assemble-bingo Kinky Bingo. The prompt was "Finger Sucking". Plot? what plot? Card number KB-014.

Bucky hadn’t dropped a pound. Not for lack of trying, he trained harder, ran longer, even made peace with the sad green smoothies Sam brought every time they met. But his body, thanks to that failed mission that ended up with him as a Hydra guinea pig again, held on to every soft part of flesh like it was fighting him. A year into dating her, though, he found out sometimes he didn’t care as much. Not when she looked at him the way she did. Not when her house smelled like cherries and safety, and her couch had his dent from where he always sat. These days, his apartment felt more like a storage unit, and her place up the fruit shop felt like home.

He grunted softly as he tugged off his stained henley, damp with sauce. He’d gotten too invested in his cheat food again. Messy, handheld, and completely worth the ruined shirt. But now, standing in her bedroom, digging through the drawer where she kept a few of his spare clothes, his mood began to sour.

He pulled on a clean henley, only to feel it tighter than he remembered around his midsection. His brows knit together. One thing was not losing weight -he could live with that- but fattening up? After an entire month of forcing down more salads and adding another damn routine to his training? He stared at his reflection, pressing his lips into a thin, flat line.

He tugged the shirt down again, trying to smooth out the way it clung around his stomach. The fabric bunched at his sides, tighter than it had been a few weeks ago, and definitely tighter than last month. It wasn’t just the damn stain from lunch anymore. It was the way this shirt used to be loose at some places, and now clung to his body like it was afraid to let go. He sighed through his nose and padded toward the kitchen.

Three hours. In three hours, he’d have to head back to his place, grab his gear, and suit up for a long mission with Sam. He glanced at the clock and grimaced. He was already dreading the way his tactical belt would pinch. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if it would click shut this time.

The front door creaking open snapped him out of the spiral. He instinctively straightened his back, like he could somehow stretch himself leaner in the next five seconds.

She walked in, hanging up her coat, and saw his expression. “Hey, handsome.” Her voice was soft and warm, the way it always was, happy to see him.

He forced one of those weird, practiced smiles that don’t fool anyone and never quite reach his eyes. “Hey.”

Her brow furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Sam threw some last-minute intel at you?”

“No.” He kept the smile in place, but it wobbled under her gaze.

She didn’t buy it. Of course she didn’t. She crossed the room without hesitation and wrapped her arms around his waist. He tensed, not because he didn’t want her touch, but because he felt it. The soft give of his belly pressed right into her body, and the henley pulled tighter on him with the movement. Too tight. Obvious. Pathetic.

His jaw clenched as he tried to hide the flinch, but she felt the tension in his body. She leaned back just enough to look up at him.

“What is it, gummybear?” she asked, gently. It was affectionate, but it felt like a slap to his pride.

Gummybear. Chewy. Squishy. Sweet, maybe, but soft. He used to be called a weapon. Even “Papa-bear” carried a bit of strength or manliness to it. But gummy? Christ. He pressed his lips into a thin line, not trusting himself to speak without the shame curling up his throat.

She felt it. Subtle, but unmistakable. The way he sucked in his stomach the moment her arms closed around him. The involuntary reflex of a man trying to shrink himself, to hide his body.

So it was one of those days. She sighed softly against his chest but didn’t call him out. She never did.

Instead, she nuzzled into him, sliding her palms up his sides, slowly and deliberately, skimming over the tension in his torso until they rested on his chest. She stopped there, spreading her fingers over the firm muscle of his pecs before curling behind his neck.

“You know, Buck,” she murmured, pressing herself closer until every inch of her body molded against him, “I’m really gonna miss you these next few days.”

He stiffened a little, but did not pull away. Still stuck in his head.

She pressed a kiss to his collarbone and let her voice drop into something softer. Needier. “And I was thinking that maybe…”

Her hand slid down the curve of his back and gave a firm, affectionate squeeze to his ass. He jerked slightly, startled, a flush creeping up his neck.

“Maybe you can give me a little something as a parting gift.”

“W-what kind of gift?” his voice rasped slightly, unsure if he was supposed to laugh or groan.

“Oh, I don’t know…” She rose onto her toes, brushing the shell of his ear with her lips. “Maybe you can fuck me so stupid I’ll be thinking about it the whole time you’re gone.”

The tips of his ears were going red. She could feel the way his pulse jumped beneath her fingers, the way his hands hovered uselessly at her sides for a second before finding a place to rest, one on her lower back, the other clutching her hip.

“Shit,” he muttered. “You can’t just say things like that.”

Her smile was smug against his throat. “Sure I can. I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, like he still couldn’t believe that was real. He leaned back just enough to look at her. His brow furrowed, that stormy look creeping back in, until she cupped his cheek.

“Don’t go inside your head,” she whispered. “Stay with me. Right here.”

That did it. His shoulders dropped slightly, and the tension drained out in a slow exhale. His thumb traced a lazy circle over her hip, rough pad dragging over the cotton of her tee.

“I don’t think I can make you stupid,” he mumbled, trying for humor and failing adorably. “But I can try to make you remember me.”

She grinned, tugging him closer by the collar of his too-tight henley. “That’s the spirit, Sarge.”

He groaned under his breath, half a laugh and half a curse, but bent to kiss her anyway, deep and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world.

Like he wanted this to last her through every single mile he had to put between them.

Her words still echoed in his ears. Fuck me so stupid. She always knew exactly how to get to him, how to twist his insecurities into afterthoughts with just a few words and the warmth of her body pressed against him.

His hands slid down her back, gripping the underside of her thighs to lift her easily, letting her legs wrap around him. He carried her to the bedroom like he’d done a hundred times before, but it still made her breath hitch every time, like she couldn’t believe the strength tucked inside him.

She tugged at the hem of his henley the second they hit the room, frantic, her mouth still hot from a kiss that never really ended. He let her pull it up and off, baring his chest to her, thick and broad, a little soft in a way that always made her mouth water.

Her hands went to his belt next, working the buckle loose.

But when they started toward his zipper, his hand caught hers.

"Uh-uh," he murmured, in a low and thick voice, the one with that edge he got when the switch flipped in his brain, when her teasing stopped being something to endure and started being something to tame.

She blinked up at him, confused for a second.

He smirked -crooked, knowing- and his voice dropped to a near-growl. "Strip for me, Sugarplum."

The command wasn’t harsh. If anything, it was warm, coaxing, but it carried certain weight. Authority. It made her shift on her feet.

He saw it happen, the way her confidence flickered into something shy, the way her gaze dipped for a heartbeat before sliding back up to meet his. It never failed to rail him, the way she could turn so soft under his attention. Not because she was unsure, but because she felt the gravity of his want.

“C’mon, sugar,” he drawled, stepping back just enough to let her move. “Wanna see you. All of you. Before I make a mess outta us both.”

Her fingers moved to the buttons of her blouse, and Bucky sat back on the edge of the bed, manspreading, hands resting on his thighs.

Waiting.

And fuck if the heat in his gaze didn’t make her feel like the most delicate, desirable thing in the damn world.

She slipped the last piece of clothing from her body, and her breath was already shallow, skin prickling under his gaze. Bucky hadn’t moved from the bed, still sitting with his thighs spread wide, eyes dark and fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, slowly. “Goddamn,” he muttered, more to himself than her. “Come here.”

She took a hesitant step toward him, but he was already moving, reaching for her waist and guiding her to straddle his lap. The shift was flawless, like he’d done it a hundred times in his mind. She settled over him with a small gasp, bracing her hands on his shoulders, her thighs hugging his hips.

He looked up at her, heavy-lidded, and then he moved.

In one smooth motion, he rolled them over the bed, laying her down beneath him with a soft thump against the mattress. Her breath caught in her throat as he hovered over her, his weight on her so welcome. But he didn’t stop there.

Still kneeling, he slid his arms beneath her thighs and lifted her, hauling her hips effortlessly up off the bed, spreading her legs wide, and draping them over his broad shoulders. She yelped, completely unprepared, as he manhandled her like she weighed nothing.

“Bucky-!” Her voice broke on the last syllable, arching her spine instinctively.

He chuckled, low and rough against her skin. “What, baby?” he said, kissing the soft inside of her thigh. “Forgot I’m strong?”

She couldn’t answer. Her hands scrabbled uselessly at the sheets, not knowing where to grab, overwhelmed by the sight of his face between her legs, already buried, closing his eyes.

If he could bench press a car, or lift a fucking truck by the axle… why wouldn’t he do this like it cost him nothing?

She moaned as his tongue licked a long, deliberate stripe through her already-soaked slit, slow and savoring, like he had all the time in the goddamn world.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her whole body already shivering against him.

His grip on her ass hardened, digging his fingers just enough to still her her while he mouthed at her ravenously. No teasing. No warm-up. Just a focused, hungry, and devastating Bucky.

He didn’t give her time to catch her breath, didn’t want her to have time. His tongue worked like he meant to ruin her, dragging through her sensitive folds again and again, slick and purposeful. Every flick, every suck of his lips around her clit was ruthless.

He had her straddled on his shoulders like she was nothing, just something sweet to devour. And he was so fucking good at it.

Her thighs began to tremble where they rested against his chest and shoulders, her cries pitching higher each time his tongue slipped inside her, slow at first, then deeper, fucking into her with wet, obscene sounds that only made her slicker. She twisted in his grip, throwing back her head, fisting the sheets.

“B-Bucky- oh god- fuck-!”

His mouth never left her. He groaned into her pussy and then wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked.

Hard.

She shattered.

Her back bowed and her toes curled behind his shoulders, as a strangled sob left her lips as her climax hit like a goddamn lightingbolt. She came in his mouth with a gush, and he didn’t let up. If anything, he got greedier, lapping her up like he meant to keep her trembling.

Only when her body sagged, wrung out and slick with sweat, he finally release her.

He eased her onto the bed, still with his pants on, and the glistening mess he’d made of his mouth and chest on display. She barely had time to catch her breath before he grabbed her by the waist and flipped her like she weight nothing, dragging her hips up until she was arched, with her knees pressed under her body, ass raised for him.

He knelt behind her, fumbling with his zipper, growling under his breath. “You know what that pussy does to me?” he rasped. “Papa Bear is gonna split you open on this cock so fucking deep, you’ll feel me every time you sit down this week.”

She only whimpered, dazed and raw from the orgasm still buzzing in her veins.

He grunted as he finally got the zipper down, dragging his cock free, hard, flushed, already leaking. He lined himself up, ran the head through her soaked pussy, and then paused.

He bent over her, bringing his mouth to her ear, his voice a low, growled promise.

“I’m gonna fuck you so stupid, as you asked, that you’ll forget your own name. You want that, Sugarplum?” He gave her ass a sharp slap. “You wanna be my little mess before I go play hero again?”

She moaned helplessly, nodding frantically against the sheets.

And Bucky -still half dressed, cock in hand,- sank into her in one long, deep stroke.

“Fuck, Sarge!” she gasped when he bottomed out, arching her body into the mattress beneath the weight of his hips. His thick thighs pressed hard into the back of hers, and the stretch had her vision going white at the edges. He gave her a moment -just a moment- with a few teasing, shallow thrusts, letting her body adjust around his girth. But then, with a low grunt, he drew back and slammed forward again, setting a brutal pace that had the entire bedframe rattling.

The bronze headboard clanged against the wall with each thrust, and she could barely think, barely breathe.

“You feel that?” he growled, voice dark and feral behind her. “Fuckin’ dripping for me, so tight, squeezin’ me like you don’t wanna let me go.” His Brooklyn accent started to thicken like every time he took control.

Her mouth was open, breath catching on each thrust. He was relentless, slapping his hips against her ass, heavily and purposefully.

“Look at you, little mess under me, beggin’ to be ruined,” he rasped, slapping her ass again, then gripping it to pull her back onto his cock. “This is what you wanted, Sugar? My cock wrecking your little pussy before I’m gone?”

“Y-yeah,” she gasped, nodding frantically, body trembling from the hard cadence. “Please, Bucky- cover me. Want to feel you on top.”

That did something to him. He groaned low in his throat, the sound pure hunger, and leaned forward over her, parting her knees wider with his until her belly dipped against the sheets.

Her breath caught as his body came down on hers -warm, heavy, solid- his chest pressing against her back, the soft curve of his belly flush with her spine.

“Greedy fuckin’ sugarplum,” he muttered into her ear, a teasing smile curving his lips even as his cock plunged deeper at this new angle. “You wanted all of me? You got me.”

He braced himself with his vibranium arm planted beside her head, the whirling of servos was faint under the moan she let out. His flesh hand curled under her, palming one breast before rolling her nipple between thick fingers.

She whined, too sensitive, too close.

Then he reached higher, brushing her lips with his hand.

“Open,” he said low but firmly.

She obeyed without hesitation, parting her lips, and he pushed two thick fingers into her mouth, slow and deep, pressing the pads to her tongue.

“Suck,” he said, rough and quiet near her ear.

She did. Her lips sealed around them, hollowed her cheeks with each drag of suction, and his breath stuttered against her shoulder.

“Fuck,” he muttered, grinding his hips down. “You know what that does to me, Sugar.”

She moaned softly around his digits, and his cock twitched inside her. Her mouth was hot, slick, obedient, and seeing her like that beneath him, around him, had his restraint unraveling.

He pumped his fingers in and out of her mouth, slow at first, letting her taste the salt and heat of his skin, letting her tongue slide between the ridges of his knuckles. She kept her eyes closed, sucking him worshipfully. Intimately. Dirty in a way that made something primal pulse low in his gut.

“Goddamn, you like this, don’t you?” he rasped. “Lyin’ there droolin’ on my fingers while I’m so deep inside you.”

She whined, rocking back her hips as she sucked harder, eagerly, her moans muffled by the weight of his hand.

“That’s it,” he growled, leaning more of his body into hers. “You’re so fuckin’ good, Sugar.”

He twisted his wrist slightly, letting his fingers slide into the inside of her cheek. Her hips jerked, a high, keen sound escaping around the seal of her lips.

“You gonna cum for me like this?” he whispered, his breath hot at her nape. “Gonna cream my cock while you suck on my fingers, hm?”

Still buried deep, Bucky let his weight shift forward. The bed creaked beneath them, her thighs already parted wide by his, trembling from how hard he was working her.

His vibranium hand slid down from where he’d been braced, slowly and deliberately, gliding over the dip of her waist, down the curve of her belly. She shuddered beneath him, a gasp caught in her throat as the cool drag of metal trailed lower.

“You feel that?” he rasped against her ear, scraping her earlobe with the edge of his teeth. “So hot down here.”

Two of his cold fingers pressed into the slick mess between her legs, rubbing through the slick spread around where his cock stretched her open and he groaned.

“You made a fuckin’ mess,” he growled, dragging the metal pads, slow and teasing. “You like being this messy for me?”

She whimpered, still sucking on his fingers, hips buckling against his touch.

Then he found her clit -swollen, throbbing- and pinched it softly.

Her whole body jolted.

He grinned against her neck, watching her eyes roll back as he started circling it firmly, mercilessly. He didn’t need finesse. Just pressure. Rhythm. She was already on the edge, trembling around him, drooling down his knuckles.

“C’mon, Sugarplum. One more.” He pinched her clit again, just enough to make her twitch. “Wanna feel you lose it while my cock’s so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow.”

She tried to moan something around his fingers, tried to beg or curse or praise, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. The wet suck of her mouth, the clench of her pussy, the twitch in her thighs, it was all he needed.

His vibranium fingers pressed harder, rubbing at one side of her clit until she broke apart, loud and wild, squeezing him in pulses that drew a low hiss from his throat.

“Fuck! Fuck-, Sugar, I was tryin’ to hold out,” he gritted, jerking his hips against her ass in an uncoordinated rhythm. “Was gonna make it last. Make you come again-”

But she was still clenching around him, trying to milk him dry, her slick mouth sucking on his fingers, the heat of her pussy gripping him like it never wanted to let go, he didn’t stand a chance.

“Shit,” he hissed, burying himself as deep as he could go, thick thighs tensed against the backs of hers. “Gonna fuckin’ cum.”

His hand let go of her clit and fisted in the sheets under her as he came -hard and long- his breath catching in his throat as he flooded her with warm, thick pulses until it spilled back around him.

“Jesus,” he choked, grinding once, twice more to push it in deeper, like he could bury every drop inside her.

He stayed like that, pressed flush against her back, heart pounding, lips parted against her shoulder as her body quivered beneath his, wrung out and stuffed full.

He didn’t speak right away; he just let his weight rest heavy and solid on her body.

Then, low against her ear: “You took me so good, sugar. Let me wreck you just right.”

He slowly eased his fingers from her mouth, dragging them lazily, then planted his hand on the mattress to lift some of his weight off her body. Still half-hard and resting against her soaked folds, he dipped his vibranium fingers back down, teasing the mess between her thighs.

“So, Sugarplum,” he murmured, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. “Did you like your parting gift? Such a mess you got here,” he added, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. Two cool fingers circled the tender rim of her entrance, stretched, swollen, and leaking. He dragged one through the creamy slick coating her folds, deliberately slow, then slipped just the tip inside, shallow and maddening.

She hummed, boneless beneath him, then shifted just enough to lift her hips and rub her ass against his pelvis. His cock twitched, pulsing with interest at the friction.

“Yeah, but I’ll still miss you, Papa Bear,” she said sleepily, her voice laced with satisfaction and mischief.

Bucky pushed himself up, and the mattress groaned beneath him as he rose to his knees. His palm caressed her hip before gliding lower, giving her ass a lazy squeeze. His fingers spread, parting her cheeks just enough to admire his handywork.

A sound halfway between a hum and a growl rumbled in his chest. “Fucking perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She mumbled something incoherent into the pillow, too wrecked to lift her head. Something about feeling good.

He let his gaze roam over her body, heavy-lidded and full of heat, before he reached for his discarded shirt to wipe gently at her thighs, not bothering to be thorough. His other hand stayed on her, stroking slowly over the curve of her hip. His body still buzzed with the aftershock, his cock twitching but spent, for now.

Moments like this, when her skin was soft beneath his hands and her body pliant from pleasure, made it easier to forget the parts of himself he hated. The thickened waistline. The sluggish metabolism that Hydra had cursed him with their prodding. A year of clean eating and harder workouts, and still, nothing changed. If anything, he’d grown softer.

But her. She never made him feel less.

Not when she kissed his belly with the same hunger as his mouth. Not when she reached for him in the dark, whispering “Papa Bear” like it was something sacred.

And not now, lying there ruined and smiling like he’d hung the damn moon.

He sank onto the mattress with a heavy sigh, then shifted and pulled her with him like it was second nature. She let out a little squeak as he manhandled her into his chest, cradling her against him like she weighed nothing at all, again. Her warm thigh draped over his, and her cheek found the place over his heart that always seemed made for her.

“I’ll miss you so much, Bucky,” she murmured, voice muffled as she nuzzled into his skin.

His hand came up instinctively, caressing her hair before he kissed the crown of her head. “I’ll try to be in touch,” he whispered. The promise was sincere, even if he couldn’t always keep it.

She didn’t push. She just sighed, content against his skin, and let her hand drift down across his stomach until it rested at the edge of his waist, curving her palm around his soft lines. There, where he usually tensed. Where his breath always hitched.

But this time… he didn’t flinch.

This time, he reached down and covered her hand with his own, pressing it gently against the curve of his love handle. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to.

She smiled into his chest. And he stayed there, holding her close, allowing himself to feel good in his skin again.

Permanent Taglist: @civilbucky @pandaxnienke @queergalpal97 @mrsalexstan

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #chubby! Bucky #AAkinky

972 notes · View notes