Got Snacks?

After getting shot and nearly bleeding out in a remote forest in the middle of nowhere Lee was less than eager to return to work. In his absence, one of his former deputies had campaigned to be elected Sheriff. Of course, he'd won.

Lee had been bitter the first few weeks, but slowly the blessing in disguise had revealed itself. Suddenly, Lee was to be pitied instead of hated. His poor sister and that terrible incident with the Russel boy.

It was like the whole town had forgotten about any of his unsavoury business from Before. Obviously, Lee took advantage of that.

It started when his neighbour brought over a pie.

"I know you boys don't cook well. I wouldn't want you starving after that tragedy!"

Lee was perfectly capable of feeding himself, but he wasn't about to decline free dessert.

"Aw, thank you, Ms Smith. You didn't have to but… yeah, you know what? I have been having some difficulty readjusting, you know?" Lee tacked on an awkward laugh for full effect, and it worked like a charm.

Ms Smith's expression softened, and she patted him on the shoulder.

"I know it's difficult. You know when my husband died…"

Listening to her blabber about her husband got on Lee's nerves quickly, but she promised to bring by some more food tomorrow.

With that, the flood gates were opened.

The whole town must've heard about what Lee said because they all came flocking to his house carrying platters and platters of food. Even after a month, a few stubborn souls stuck around to make sure he was well-fed. And it sure was showing.

He'd never been skinny or anything, but the bit of pudge around his middle blossomed into a full-on gut. A heavy ball that sat on his thighs and pushed out into his lap more with every day.

Lee made a few half-assed attempts at losing the weight.

No beer before bed or no desserts after dinner, but he rarely stuck with it longer than a week and any weight he did lose came back double or triple the week after that.

'Well-fed' quickly turned into 'fat'. Lee was slowly encroaching on a size that he hadn't ever seen on other people.

On one memorable call, he'd had to help a man weighing double what he did back then out of his tub. The guy had to have been 400lbs, maybe even closer to 450lbs.

Lee had crossed 300lbs after eight months of consistent feeding. After a year he was pushing closer to 350lbs than 300lbs, but he ended the year without crossing that boundary just yet.

Seeing that number on the scale shocked Lee back into dieting for two whole weeks. Food piled up in his fridge and freezer as he valiantly tried to stick to tiny portions. It all culminated in a two-day binge that ended with Lee pinned to his sofa.

He'd never really understood how someone could struggle to get to his feet, but he learned then. No matter how much he tried, his stomach hurt too much. His bloated belly got in the way and his puffy arms couldn't get any leverage on the battered sofa.

Lee had done a number on the sofa. A deep dent into the left side where he usually sat to watch TV (or stuff his face more frequently now). The small dining table had quickly gotten too uncomfortable for his growing gut and eventually, one of the foldable chairs had given out under his heft.

He'd struggled just to get up from the floor again. It was a humbling experience but with food still, on the table, Lee didn't think too much about it and just moved to the living room. Not like he could break his sofa, right?

Wrong.

It did take until Lee reached over 400lbs. His rickety, old sofa just wasn't made for this weight constantly torturing it. Sitting down normally had just gotten too much work and one of the supporting slats broke with a loud crack when Lee let himself fall down.

While it scared the hell out of Lee, he'd reached a sort of breaking point. There wasn't any use in losing weight now, right? And he'd surely plateau at some point. So, he still ate his breakfast.

Food deliveries had petered out a while ago. Once he'd really blown up no one wanted to keep feeding the fat (ex)-Sheriff, but his pension was good enough to keep up with his habit. He didn't need money for much else.

400lbs turned into 450lbs without him really noticing. Lee didn't think it was possible to gain 50lbs without so much as a creeping suspicion but sure enough, his (new) scale wasn't lying. His clothes were getting tighter too, but Lee had had enough foresight to get something with a bit more room.

A lot more room actually because his clothes held up until 500lbs. That's when the weight really hit him. He'd been struggling with lots of little things so far and slowly decreasing stamina, but it was like he'd crossed a magic boundary from being able to still do most things to struggling for breath while he was sitting on his ass (to eat another meal).

Things started getting really scary when Lee felt both sides of his sofa brushing his sides. No matter how he sat his wide hips and thick love handles were always brushing the sofa's arms.

Of course, that didn't slow a proper glutton down.

If anything, Lee increased his food intake. Some subconscious realisations that he was cutting his life short with every additional pound he gained, every hour he spent on his ass instead of exercising and every single, greasy bite he shoved past his lips. So, of course, he needed to make the best of the time he had left.

Lee committed to his lifestyle of hedonism, not just food-wise, but also by overindulging in his drinking, spending his pension instead of saving anything and getting even lazier. Most of his days were spent inside, but occasionally, he longed for a change of scenery and undertook the laborious trek outside.

Walking had become increasingly difficult, and his gait had turned into a shuffling waddle. The heavy bag on his shoulder didn't make it easier, but he couldn't imagine sitting outside without something to snack on and a few drinks.

Just lifting his feet exhausted him and his joints screamed at him with every lumbering step. But he made it out to the porch. It was a cool evening and Lee sighed when the breeze cooled his overheated skin.

However, that moment of relief wasn't enough to cut through the pain of walking and standing. He spotted the porch swing not too far away. He hadn't been out here in a few months, so it looked a bit run down, but the wood looked sturdy enough. Surely, it could hold him. He dropped the bag full of food right in front of the swing.

Then, Lee tried to sit down as gently as possible but at his size that wasn't really an option. He crashed down onto the wooden bench and while it groaned underneath his weight, it held.

For a moment.

Just as Lee started to trust the construction of the porch swing and started to relax one of the chains to his right creaked with an ominous tone. A second later it snapped, and Lee was dumped to the ground.

The porch shook under the impact. Lee's first instinct was to get back to his feet, but the walk outside had exhausted him so much, that he took the opportunity to finally catch his breath.

Dread set in at the realization of how fat he'd let himself get. Every meal flashed before him, but before he could dwell on it the urgent need to breathe took over his mind again. Wheezing gulps of breath that still didn't seem to fill his lungs. His chest was too heavy for them to fully expand.

It took some time before he could concentrate on anything but breathing. Lee was still wheezing a bit now, but to his delight, he spotted the bag he'd nearly crushed. It was squished against his leg and Lee actually struggled a bit to reach around to grab a package of sugar cookies.

Maybe this is another modern without powers alternate universe? Like, Steve and Bucky both work regular jobs and I’m personally picturing pre-war Steve and Bucky, so, Bucky already has the weight and height advantage on Steve when he gets hurt in an accident (car crash, skiing, hiking, I don’t have a specific incident in mind, imagine whatever you want) at which point he piles on a shit ton of weight, very, very fast, making him look that much bigger in comparison to little Steve.

Steve practically looks stick thin next to Bucky’s heavy rolls and all his sinful excess, panting just sitting on the couch, too busy massaging his burbling gut to actually get any of his work done on his laptop (which… where is he supposed to put that laptop anyway? There’s no lap left. Bucky’s obscenely swollen gut takes up all of the space on top of his jiggly, thick thighs 😳).

Pre-accident though…

They both have hefty, impressive pot-bellies going on. Every little bit of chub seems to go to Steve’s belly, so he rounds out more than Bucky in the front. Always round and solid. But Bucky has gained everywhere as well as in his gut- his thighs and ass and chest and shoulders and face have all chunked out some too.

They like to compare, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, belly to belly, faces turned to the side to get their fill of their reflection as they pinch rolls and soft fat and new stretch marks. Exploring their lover's growing bodies together; obsessed with how good it is to grow together.

It’s not that comparing matters all that much though, it’s not a race. They compare for fun… fun that usually ends up with their guts pressing hard into each other, shuffling in close to make out until one or both of them break and they land heavily on the bed. The slats already beginning to creak under their increasing weight.

And pre-accident when they’re both stuffed - spending the day cooking for, pampering, and feeding each other - they both look pregnant. Not, like, realistically pregnant though. No. They look like kids that are playing pregnant by stuffing pillows up under their shirts; bellies just as full at the top as they are at the bottom from this stuffing but also from all the other stuffings they’ve gotten up to before. It’s so hard to not stuff yourself once you pull the trigger on it, y’know? Being full is just that fucking good.

Addictively good.

After though… after the accident (and it’s not extremely serious, just enough to tweak and fracture something in Bucky’s leg so he’s on doctor’s orders to not walk until further notice) Bucky’s gains lap Steve’s. The secret to how quickly the weight explodes out is that he’s not moving. He’s eating the same as when he was mobile though. He’s eating the same and maybe even more because Steve gets a kick out of buying more snacks than they even needed before and leaving all the non-perishable items out on the coffee table (along with Bucky’s lunch for when Steve is gone) within Bucky’s reach, knowing that he will plow through them all thoughtlessly. The only time he thinks about how much he’s packing into himself is when his belly hurts. Groaning and panting. Usually, it’s at that point in the day when his tummy hurts (because it happens every day, let's be real) that he texts Steve a string of pathetic emojis 🥺🥺🥴😮‍💨 plus a few pics of his stomach, bloated large enough that it looks like he’s sticking out all his fat on purpose. He’s not. He’s just that fucking full. Full without any ability to burn even a fraction of the calories off. All of them are gonna turn into fat. Fuck yes.

After receiving his texts, Steve always sneaks away into the bathroom of his work to squeeze his dick through his slacks but also to send Bucky a half whispered, half growled voice memo of “poor baby, lookit you, Buck-! Tsk tsk. I know you’re not allowed to move right now but if you were allowed to… I don’t think you could. Grab that big tummy for me and think about it- do you think you could get yourself to your feet if you tried? I don’t think so. I think you’d be stuck regardless of your leg being okay or not.”

Steve stops recording to breathe. Reminding himself that it is not a good idea to jerk off in your employer's bathroom. He sends that first recording and then starts another...

“I have to go back to work but you should take a break, who’s gonna know? You’re working from home. Take a rest and rub that tummy, you’re a growing boy after all. And you’ll need more room for when I get home to make dinner and dessert anyway.”

He sends that one too.

Then waits for Bucky’s response, heart thudding in his chest.

His response is simply an elegant key smash-

adjkdghlasd;gj

And then-

but u’ll get snacks from the breakroom 2 eat @ ur desk right?!1 🥺

Steve intentionally leaves Bucky hanging until he gets back to his desk, in his little cubical. He’s stolen a soda, a massive filled donut, and as many brownies as he could take without it being suspicious. He smashes a brownie into his face, suppressing his trained instinct to moan at the rich, decadent food. He’s not at home right now. None of his coworkers need to know that he gets off on stuffing his face. Either way, Steve sneakily snaps a photo of his mouth crumbs from the first treat still around his lips. He takes a picture of the small feast he’s brought back too. Captioning it one down…

Bucky will be able to fill in the rest. One down and many more to go.

Hnnnnnggg Bucky’s response vibrates his phone in his hand.

Steve smirks, scarfing his treats down by eating them as fast as he can, eyes sliding shut, pleased, at the way it makes him feel so full so suddenly. Also, he chugs his single-liter bottle of soda. Then, when he’s still breathing heavily while trying to not make too much noise, he takes another photo-

This one is of his belly straining the buttons of his dress shirt, his white undershirt can be seen through the gaps. Under the round dome of his gut, it feels like the waistband of his slacks is trying to cut him in half. He can’t believe he needs to size up again. It hasn’t been, what, even a month since he last upgraded his wardrobe. Goddamn.

Bucky sends him a photo of his face. Eyes dark, mouth open and wet. Wanting.

Now we’ll both have to make room for dinner Steve types, smirking.

f u c k Bucky responds.

After that, Steve pops his slacks open and tries very hard to ignore his bubbling stomach otherwise. He’ll button his pants up again when it’s time to leave. Leave the office and go home to Bucky… his big fat glutton, sitting on the couch all the time.

Eating all the time.

Growing all the time.

…

Steve decided that rather than cooking for them both tonight, he wanted to get takeout. So he orders from their favorite Thai place, getting way more than he thinks they can eat. He kind of hopes they surprise him though… maybe. He won’t expect it.

Bucky doesn’t even say hello when he walks through the door first. He moans first. Thrilled by the scent and asking, “Thai?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Steve answers, closing the door behind him with his fatty hip, hands full with too many things to do otherwise. Steve sweeps the wrappers of the junk food he left out for Bucky on the coffee table to the end of the table, he’ll get them later, right now he just needs to set all this heavy, heavy food down. Not all of the bags and boxes fit on the table. So Steve sets some of them on the floor- they clean and it’s not like they have pets, so it’s fine.

“Not that you should care what I brought home,” Steve purrs, now free of take-out and his work bag and everything, he saddles up to Bucky, throwing one of his thick thighs over Bucky’s thicker (non-injured) thigh. Pressing himself as close to Bucky’s fat as he can. His bloated belly looks like nothing but a little starter pudge next to Bucky’s massive, round buddha statue like belly. As he shifts, sitting on his heavier partner, Steve hears some of his clothes stitching creak. More proof he needs to size up. “It’s not like you need more food. Weren’t you just telling me your stomach hurt?” Helplessly though, Steve starts to rub his belly. Shit. Steve shudders just upon feeling the thick layer of fat over his full stomach.

Bucky’s round cheeks color pink even as his hands conversely come up to grab Steve’s plush ass through his slacks. Pressing their soft, fat bodies together even more. “Yeah…” he whispers.

“Mmm-hmm, I thought so,” he grinds a little against Bucky, unable to not after the sexting session they had this afternoon, “so do you think you really need more food if your belly was just hurting? You really think you need to get bigger? Hon, if you get any bigger when the doctor says you can walk again you won’t be able to. You won’t even be able to waddle around, this heavy belly swaying and jiggling in front of you. Nah. You won’t be able to feel that because it’ll all be pinning you down on your fat ass. Too fat.”

Bucky is breathing heavier now, trying and failing to jerk up into Steve’s hands, already pinned. Wanting more than a belly rub.

“Did you even get any work done today? Or did you just stuff your face?”

Bucky whimpers, eyes dark and so so wanting as he stares up at Steve. He shakes his head slowly as if he’s shy. It’s adorable.

“I didn’t think you did, fatty,” he says, loving every minute of this, “I don’t know why I care though-” he jiggles Bucky’s heavy tummy, blood lighting up hotter at the way he moans “-the bigger you get, the better I look.” Bucky whines. “The bigger and fatter you are next to me, the fewer people pay attention to the growing problem I got myself-” Steve grabs one of Bucky’s pudgy wrists in his fingers, guiding his boyfriend’s hand to his own struggling belly. Steve can’t decide if he’s going to take his dress shirt off the second he peels himself away from Bucky or if he wants to savor the tightness and pop every damn button off as he gluts himself over dinner, sitting on the couch right next to his bigger, heavier boyfriend. “Yeah,” he smirks at the purely undone face and sound Bucky makes, touching him there, where he’s grown the most, “I doubt any of my co-workers would care about all the free snacks disappearing in the break room or the constant sounds of chewing and drinking coming from my cubical if you were in the picture. They’d just see you. You whale. They wouldn’t pay attention to little Stevie- the pig they work with. Nah, they’d only look at you. You would make me look soooo good. You’re so big. Such a whale that a pig like me is nothing in comparison.”

Bucky moans, “Steve-”

The desperation in his voice spurs Steve on, “anyone and everyone would look at you and think about how you must just fucking crush me. Your little, overweight boyfriend. How does Steve breathe with a whale in the bed next to him at night? Oh, is Steve gaining weight? I didn’t notice. Hell, I didn’t even see Steve next to the whale that his boyfriend makes. But now that you mention it… I guess Steve is kind of a pig. I hope he doesn’t get as big as his boyfriend though, that’d be a shame. Wouldn’t it, Buck? Mmfft. It’d be a shame if we both blew up into whales. If I got as big as you. But we both know if I grew to your size you wouldn’t be able to stop while I stuffed myself and gained. You’d keep growing too. And by the time I reach the weight you are now, you’d still be… hmm, what do you think? Are you double or triple my weight? Maybe even bigger than that, huh? What do you say? You'd still be double my weight by the time I reach the size you are now?”

“God! Steve-!” Bucky whines, struggling for breath. He squirms under Steve. If his belly weren’t in the way, Steve knows he’d be able to see how hard his cock is. He loves this. They both love this.

“You wanna keep getting bigger, baby?”

“Yes!”

“You wanna keep being bigger than me even when I’m bigger than almost anyone around? Always rounder and heavier than your little boyfriend, even when I’m just a big, fat, blimp.”

“Yesyesyes! Please, Steve,” Bucky whimpers, tears in his pale eyes.

“Please what?”

“Please fucking touch me, I wanna come! Wanna always be bigger than you!”

“Oh, does the whale wanna come but he can’t get to his cock under all his fucking blubber?” Steve smacks his tummy, feeling intoxicated on the way it makes his whole body ripple, tearing a whiiine out of the much fatter man.

“Yes! Yes! I wanna come. I wanna come. Wanna be fat. So fat. Pleasemakemecome!”

“I can’t fucking wait until we’re both too big to reach our dicks,” Steve murmurs as he hefts Bucky’s huge fucking belly out of the way, searching for his dick. Steve knows he can finish them both off quick enough after the foreplay they’ve had all day that dinner will still be warm by the end. And, shit, he can’t wait to dig in to all the food he bought 🤤🤤 feeding each other and getting fatter might even be better than coming after all

And with this rapid but not, like, immediate weight gain you described I can also imagine the mounting tension. Like, at first Steve is pretty sure he’s intrigued just by the change that Bucky is going through. That’s why he can’t stop looking at Bucky as he stuffs his face and explodes out bigger the very next morning as a way of consequence.

Steve knows Bucky’s body almost better than his own, he knew it before the war, during the war, and he knows it again after the war in their semi-retirement (only going on occasional missions when they’re either super serious or restless enough to want to go help Natasha or Sam). But… he doesn’t know Bucky’s body when it’s chubby- all soft and heavy. That’s why he’s so interested, right? It’s just another change.

And he likes all of the changes happening at such a rapid influx.

He likes the change of the way Bucky’s clothes go from comfortably falling over his body, concealing the cuts of his incredible muscles (because he’s not like Steve in fashion sense, he’s not prone to tight tight smediums) to bulging in… certain places… (like his puffing belly and rounding ass 🤤) to hanging on for dear life, barely able to cover his rounding, expanding body. Hardly public-appropriate with the way Bucky’s new fat is oozing out of them.

Steve likes the way Bucky goes from never falling out of breath (unless you count when he’s three orgasms deep into riding Steve and is sweating buckets, squirming, and panting with how fucking intensely he’s enjoying himself, or when he’s fighting off aliens from another timeline slip in the middle of New York City) to falling out of breath as he just heaves himself up off the couch. Hardly a physically demanding feat… right? But there he is sighing and breathing heavily anyway, now always pausing to catch his breath before wandering into the kitchen for more food so the next time he moves he can be even more out of breath.

He likes the change of Bucky going from falling asleep on his back with Steve curled up against his side (despite the huge surface of their king-sized bed) to Bucky sleeping on his side instead. His tummy is too heavy to breathe when on his back. And when he’s on his side, it either means all of his new blubber gets pressed up against Steve’s flat, muscular chest and abs when they’re face-to-face, or… when Bucky faces out into the bedroom and not Steve, Steve enjoys how he can spoon Bucky and try his hardest to get his arm all the way around his newly rotund partner. His ability to reach across his girth lessens every night and it’s exciting. It’s so new.

He likes the change in Bucky’s capacity. As he gains weight and admits to Steve around even more bites of food, his appetite is always bottomless, he likes the changes too, they push his capacity until he’s not only got more fat but much more room for food. He eats double or triple what he could at the beginning of the curse. He eats until he’s stuffed so much that his tummy is bloated bigger already and hard to the touch- taut. Packed full. Seeing Bucky blushing and moaning, rubbing his beach ball belly and begging for more at the same time that he begs for rubs to help his endless meal settle will never get old. It will feel new and exciting and impossible every time.

Steve likes the change in Bucky’s attitude and behavior, he likes how he goes from independent and quieter than any of his previous incarnations (he talks more now than he did when he first broke away from hydra but not as much as he did before the war, whistling as he worked, cracking jokes, practicing one-liners on Steve, asking him to dance for no reason, etc.) to lazy and always asking for favors with his most charming smile, popping his dimples, knowing Steve cannot say no. He smiles- cheekily grins from where he’s sat on their couch (and where he’ll stay all day, growing) and wave a lazy hand in a half-recognizable gesture, asking, can you get some more snacks for me? Can you heat up one of those frozen lasagnas in the freezer for me? Can I have the TV remote (even though it’s only on the armchair a few feet from the couch where he’s parked his huge ass)? Can you get the takeout from the front door for me? It should be here in five minutes. Simple things that if he weren’t saying it all, all the time, it wouldn’t be a problem. But he is saying it all. And he has a growing problem. All those things he’s asking of Steve (that Steve is thrilled to do, of course) are not helping him maintain the minimum 50lbs per day gain. He’s gaining much faster than that, getting lazier and lazier. More chill the more weight he piles on. Happier seeming too. Happier as he stops excusing his frequent burps or satisfied moans or his tummy’s gurgles- his tummy actually angrily trying to digest all the food he’s piled into it but mistaken by Bucky himself as more hunger, piling more onto his struggling metabolism 🥵. Steve doesn’t mind. He actually loves it. This Bucky is like the Bucky from before the war, perhaps the most himself he’s ever been, even if he’s… *gulp* maybe three-? four-? approaching five times the size of that Bucky, way back in the 40s.

Steve really likes that Bucky likes it though. Overall. That’s a big part of it. Steve loves how Bucky caresses his own body as it blows up - as he stuffs himself - enjoying how huge he’s gotten. Especially in the mornings, the weight from the curse has piled on overnight, meaning Bucky wakes up and takes his time investigating new fat, curves, stretch marks, and creases in his growing body. Touching himself. Letting his arousal build purely from his own huge, growing body. So heavy and massive… yeah. Steve loves how Bucky loves it. He loves how Bucky asks for more, unable to get enough food but also unable to get enough of himself. Full of himself in the most intoxicating way. And part of it for Bucky is that Steve likes it so… it’s a loop. A feedback loop (ha).

*blows kiss* I hope that was everything you wanted!

I love love love the idea of Bucky sitting and being doted on the entire day, getting fuller and fuller, packed tighter and tighter, belly getting rounder and rounder under that thick layer of fat 😳

However, you know what this made me think of??

It made me a think of a feedism post I saw forever ago and can't track down rn but it amounted to: wouldn't it be great if for a weekend we pretend I'm immobile? You bring me food. You feed me. You fuck me and do all the work. It's fun. It's hot. It becomes an every weekend activity. And then a vacation activity, a stay-cation in our house except... after it keeps happening, our role played immobility, eventually, I really become immobile. It takes a while for us to notice though. Because weren't still playing. So lost in the game. Until- it's not a game anymore 😳

Like, imagine that happening with this huge Bucky and Steve-? 🥴🥴🥴

It starts years back when Bucky just first gets a little, erm, husky from bulking at the gym. For this bulk he ends up not going to workout as much as he planned to because he gets super busy with work or whatever, but in his mind, he’s still bulking, so he eats like he really was bulking until… oops… he's gained like 15, maybe 20 lbs? Getting some nice fluff on top of his muscles and, oh, Bucky really likes the way it feels.

The way it feels being bigger.

The way it feels when Steve feeds him.

And he really likes this new kink he’s found on the internet while trying to figure out just how weird he was for liking those two things. Turns out... he's not all that weird. Theres a community of people around it, actually.

He introduces the kink to Steve and they dive into it fast. Steve remains a gym rat as they both were when they began dating, but he comes home and feeds Bucky until Bucky feels like he can’t move. Steve teases Bucky that he’s eating everything Steve craves but can’t have (that’s not really what’s going on, but the role-play of it gets them both hot so… what does it matter, whether its true or not?). And eventually, Steve teases Bucky that if he keeps stuffing himself, he won’t be able to move when he used to go to the gym twice a day. What a change. Bucky likes the change. He likes the idea of being pinned to one spot by his changes. He likes the contrast between all his soft, round fat and Steve's cut, hard muscles. Steve's fitness versus Bucky's fatness.

Bucky begs Steve to stuff him until he can’t move, he's so desperate to feel more of those feelings he's having surrounding his (sort of) new kink. His new body.

He begs and begs and begs. 

And eats and eats and eats because Steve can’t resist his begging or his puppy dog eyes or his pouting. 

With all that intense feeding, both stuffing on junk food and the red meat (for Steve's muscle/gains) and boost/gainer shakes, Bucky piles on weight criminally easy until he really is on the cusp of immobility because it takes so much effort to move. He’s so heavy.

And it's all Bucky wants for Steve to keep him as his pet glutton, unable to move and doted on by his ridiculously fit, strong, and capable boyfriend. All he wants to get larger and larger, fatter and fatter while Steve gets more fit- he's training for a marathon right now. The contrast between their bodies is endlessly sexy to them both... 

They play with immobility a lot. It’s easier to play the closer it gets too.

So, playing, the most Bucky moves for a while is between the couch and the bed, heavy, plodding steps that take forever, winding Bucky while his boyfriend is right next to him, light on his feet and only breathing heavily because he’s turned on. Turned on by this because Bucky is turned on by it too; it being the heavy jiggle of all his fat as he shuffles from the bed to the couch, stuffed from breakfast in bed and now holding what part of his stomach that he can actually reach. Trying to hold himself together practically. He’s so round. He’s so stuffed but you can’t tell because his packed hard stomach is buried under all that blubber. And by the time he gets to the couch, he’s had to stop several times, pausing to gather his strength to get there. 

Once on the couch, Steve brings him a gainer shake not unlike the protein shakes he makes for himself before he goes to the gym (but with about double the calories and more sugar) to “keep up his fluids”. Bucky guzzles it down like nothing. Like it's water. He’s still hot and sweaty from walking. Hot as in temperature and hot as in turned on... Steve is gonna have to use that gym-honed strength to lift his heavy, heavy tummy and fat pad up out of the way to get to his dick before long 🥵 Then, he can use his hands or put his mouth on him while Bucky rubs his upset, full tummy and contemplates how he could possibly get himself fuller. 🥴🥴 Ever hungry for the perfect feeling of being pushed all the way to his limits- about to burst he’s so bloated and full and heavy with it. Getting heavier the more he eats. The more he stuffs into his fat face. 

But that’s the thing.

Bucky stays on the couch for the rest of the day- eating. He has snacks while sitting on the couch. He has lunch while sitting on the couch. He has more snacks while sitting on the couch. He has dinner while sitting on the couch. He has dessert while sitting on the couch. He… he tries to get up to follow Steve to the bedroom so they can sleep together, Steve cuddling as close as he possibly can to his big, fat, fucking huge boyfriend who's body is a pillow all over, soft, but-

Oh, shit. 

Bucky moans. He can’t get up. 

It’s not the first time he’s eaten himself into the inability to get up off the couch, so they camp out in the living room all night. However, it is the first time he’s done it by accident. Usually, when he can’t move from the couch to the bed it’s pretend, more of that role-play, or it’s planned in the day's events… an all-day stuffing that leaves him unable to move under the weight of all those calories. Now he just can’t move from a normal day of eating.

God. 

That shouldn’t make him as hot as it does but… here he is. And Steve has to go and find his cock where it’s buried under all his blubber again. 

...

In the morning - when he’s the lightest and his stomach is the least round it’ll be all day, not yet stuffed full - Bucky tries again. He grunts and then moans.

He can’t get up. 🥵😫

He can’t-

Fuck. 

It’s all his fantasies (all the realistic ones) come true. 

He’s eaten himself so big he can’t get off his huge, fat ass. He’s too fucking fat. So big. So large that Steve has to stretch himself out to straddle one of his huge thighs. So massive that he can’t touch the roundest part of his stomach, it’s grown out so big, so round. So vast that he’s got more than a double chin- three or four instead. So mammoth that he’s stuck in place, overwhelmed by his own body. 

Steve is overwhelmed by his body too. 

Sure, they could ease up and not stuff Bucky every hour (probably more like every half hour at this point) and he would drop enough weight quickly, it’s not like he’ll starve, that he could get mobility back in the snap of someone’s fingers but… this is too good. It's too good to be stuck on his huge ass with his only job to eat. It's not even his own job to rub his unbelievably massive stomach anymore. He can't reach all of it. So he can't do a good job of it. Steve has to do that instead. Bucky just gets to stuff his face and grow.

Right now, they were getting ready to play spin the bottle.

Since it was still fairly early in the night no bottles had been empty, but Bucky had downed his bottle of beer in half a minute flat. Steve hadn’t been able to look away from Bucky’s throat as his Adam’s apple bopped with every pull from the bottle. His eyes had followed the beer. To Bucky’s belly that was slowly creeping out from under his shirt.

By the time Steve finally forced himself to look away Bucky had downed the entire bottle and sat down with everyone else on the floor to play. It only sunk in then that there was a chance he’d have to kiss Bucky.

Steve might’ve been harbouring a slight crush on his roommate since freshman year. So, he wasn’t even sure if he was happy or worried about the possibility.

As it turned out Steve shouldn’t have worried. Everyone decided they weren’t drunk enough to play actual ‘Spin the Bottle’, so it turned into ‘Truth or Dare’. Which was slightly better. Or… worse? Steve honestly wasn’t sure.

“Dare,” Steve decided when the bottle landed on him. Just in that moment the doorbell rang. Natasha decided on a practical dare for him.

“I dare you to get our pizza from the delivery guy.”

They traded a few jokes about how difficult this would be for Steve before he finally reached the door. The money was already counted, and Steve only had to carry everything inside. They divvied up their orders and Steve handed everyone what they wanted.

Three cartons were left in the end, a small one for Steve, a large one for Bucky and another large one for… “Did anyone else order?” Steve asked in the round, but Bucky was already reaching for the second carton.

“Both for me.” He patted his belly, “I gotta keep this beast happy.”

Steve watched transfixed as Bucky’s belly jiggled under his touch. His shirt was tight enough to see a shallow indent over his belly button. Bucky really was all his kinky dreams come true. Since freshman year he must’ve put on a good 80lbs.

Probably more, a little voice whispered in Steve’s mind.

Steve could hardly believe that Bucky used to have abs. Now they were replaced with an actual gut. Not just a bit of softness, but actual rolls.

Fuck, Steve caught himself staring, but Bucky took it well.

“I’m not sharing, Rogers, this is way too good,” Bucky said and took another bite. Steve couldn’t decide whether he was in heaven or hell.

Everyone had long finished their dinner while Bucky was still eating. Conversation had picked back up, but Steve couldn’t get himself to participate. Bucky was already struggling after the first bite of the second pizza. No way he’d be able to finish.

Natasha seemed to think the same because she spoke up and said, “sure, you’re gonna finish that, big guy? No one’s forcing you.”

There was a glint of determination in Bucky’s eyes.

“Of course, I’m gonna finish. It’s not that much food.”

“Yeah? Bet.” Natasha offered her hand.

“What if I win?” Bucky asked. Natasha thought for a moment and then grinned wide.

“I’ll pay for both pizzas.”

“What if I lose?”

“I get to decide who had to kiss you.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows at Natasha and then his eyes flicked over to Steve for a moment and Steve held his breath.

“Well, I’m not gonna lose. So, I won’t have to worry about that.”

Disappointment flooded through Steve. That’s pretty much confirmation that Bucky wasn’t interested in him and worse knew about Steve’s crush. He wanted a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him whole.

Despite himself Steve kept watching Bucky work his way through the pizza. It wasn’t like Bucky could know about Steve’s kink. He might’ve told Natasha about his crush, but he’d deliberately kept any details to himself.

Bucky kept looking at Steve. It was infuriating. Especially when Steve was forcing himself to look away, he could feel Bucky’s eyes burning on the back of his neck.

Steve stood up abruptly and headed to the kitchen to get another beer. He intended to go back to the others right after, but something kept him glued right at the kitchen counter. He finished his beer and got another and tried to work up the courage to go back.

He didn’t have to.

Bucky came in. He was walking slowly, clearly struggling under the heavy weight of his gut. With a grunt he let himself fall on one of the bar stools and pushed the pizza carton he was carrying at Steve. When he didn’t more Bucky opened it up.

There was a single piece left. Steve couldn’t believe Bucky couldn’t have forced that in as well.

“I lost,” Bucky said.

“Who do you have to kiss?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and hauled Steve across the counter to press a kiss to his lips.

“For being a smart guy, you can be really dumb sometimes.”

Steve felt like his whole world had been turned upside down and inside out.

“You want to-“

“For two damn years. You never seemed to be interested. Nat told me we were both idiots. I figured it out from there.”

Bucky leaned back on the bar stool, and he rubbed his belly where it had pressed against the hard edge of the counter when he leaned over to kiss Steve.