#chubby steve rogers

[wotvagyok]

My thoughts are currently consumed by Trans Steve starting T and getting all kinds of thicc because of it.

At first noticing the changes, how he’s filling out in all the right places, the little stretch marks on his new belt, on his arms, his thick love handles. It’s all dense and doughy, he’s so sturdy now, so chonky.

And then a couple of years in, a few self discoveries later, sat between Bucky’s thighs, so stuffed and bloated and round, Bucky’s hand in his skin-tight and torn boxers, pressing into him, holding another bite to his lips.

Steve’s lax, pressed against his chest, head lying limp against Bucky’s shoulder. His brain his empty, eyes glazed, as he opens his mouth to keep eating.

“Good boy.” Bucky whispers to him as he bucks his hips in desperation. “Gettin’ so fat,” a hand slides down to the blushing swell of his stomach, sitting in his lap now, and rubs soothing circles across the taut skin. He reaches for another few fries and holds them to Steve’s mouth when he finishes chewing. Steve takes a gasping bite. “Such a good, greedy boy.”

[chubbydrawer]

Now in patreon! Steve should really be careful what he drinks in Tony’s lab! #maleweightgain #fat #chubby #thick #gainer #gainerart #chubart #fatart #bigboy #bigbelly #tightclothes #rippedclothes #maleinflation #fatter #curvy

[malebellyworld]

Solitude

***This story is a little different than what I normally write about, meaning that it’s vore, specifically soft/safe vore with mpreg undertones, I don’t only write about weight gain fanfics just look at my profile description lol***

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It was a normal day for Peter Parker; the usual monotony and drudgery from school can get to one’s psyche, and so the teen found himself swinging around New York looking for any possible crime going on. He was sat on the edge of a building when he heard a ear shattering blast coming down the street immediately followed by panicked screams and an alarm ringing above the chaos. As the smoke cleared, Peter could see a group of men getting into a van holding a box.

Peter swing down and landed on the roof the van with a loud bang, “Hi guys, whatcha got there?.”

“None of your damn business,” said one of the men.

Peter jumped off the roof and leaned against the van nonchalantly. “Well, it is if you guys are causing so much chaos, and from the looks of it, it looks like you guys must be taking something that isn’t yours.”

Another man leaned out the driver’s side window holding a gun. “Unless you want something bad to happen to you, I suggest you leave,”

Peter knew this type of tactic, and decided to play along by raising his hands. “Hey, I don’t want any trouble, I’m just”-

It happened way too quick for even Peter to comprehend. He couldn’t see, or even sense the man pulling the trigger, almost like he didn’t even pull a trigger at all. The next thing was an excruciating pain that made Peter cry out as he we shot with what looked like an emerald green shard, it had penetrated the suit and his stomach. He fell against the van and slid onto the ground as the van pulled off.

Peter groaned. “K-Karen, call Mr. Stark, I need help,”

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Tony Stark was finishing a conference call with Japan for distribution for the newest model of the Stark Phone when he was alerted by Karen. He immediately jumped in his chair at the name of “spider-baby”. He did it as a joke, but the bond between the two was strong, it made Tony question whether or not Peter was the son figure he could practice on before he ever had kids of his own. He ended the meeting after giving the approval, immediately walking to his lab.

“FRIDAY call Peter,” he said as he walked down the hall.

“Right away sir,” the A.I. responded.

Tony could hear Peter’s strained coughing from the other end of the line. This caused him to panic as he began running into the lab.

“Kid, Peter what happened?.” Tony asked as he stepped onto a platform, holding his arms out before the suit was assembled on him.

“I was… shot, it hurts Mr. Stark,” the pain in his voice sucker punched Tony’s heart.

“It’s okay kid, I’ve got your location and I’m on my way over, no exceptions,” Tony said before flying off the building’s landing platform.

Lately Tony’s been feeling protective over Peter. At first, he was wanting to some distance away from being so attached to the boy. But after comparing the fact that that both Tony’s and Peter’s parents were dead helped put the first step toward creating the kind of pseudo father-son relationship they have. However, what the two don’t won’t say to one another, is that they both enjoyed being around each other.

After finding Peter hiding out behind a warehouse, Tony landed and immediately came out of the suit, running over to where he saw the boy laying next to a dumpster, his heartstrings being yanked at full force.

“Peter, it’s me, I’m here now, can you tell me what happened?.” Tony asked as he gently lifted the boy into his arms.

Peter coughed, “I was shot by someone,” he said and removed his hand to show the wound.

Tony cringed before quickly examining the small shard penetrating the skin.

“Look, I’m gonna take you back to the Tower, and I don’t want to hear another word about, understand?.”

Peter nodded weakly before Tony got back into his suit, carefully lifting Peter into his arms and smoothly flying above the city, keeping a firm hold of the boy close to his chest, uttering words of comfort to him as means of comfort to himself as well.

Tony landed back into the landing platform and made his way inside. “FRIDAY, tell Bruce to meet me in the medical floor right now,”

“Right away sir,”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, I’ll just get Bruce to look at you and see what we can do, okay?.” Tony asked as the robotic arms began taking off the suit of armor.

“Mr. Stark, I feel dizzy,” Peter mumbled.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid, just hold on,” Tony said, rushing into the elevator and pressing the button with a blue “H”.

“I-I don’t want to go,” Peter muttered. “I don’t want to die.” He glanced up at Tony with glistening brown eyes.

Tony’s heart was in a chokehold. “I promise, baby, everything will be alright, I’ll make sure of it.”

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “Huh?.”

The elevator dinged just in time before Tony could give a great excuse. He jogged over to where he saw Bruce Banner waiting at the front desk in confusion.

“Hey, look we don’t have much time, so I need you to help me out with something really important,” Tony said, leaning towards Bruce to show Peter’s wound. “Like, right now.”

“Okay, let’s make this quick I gotta get back to the lab”-

Tony grabbed Bruce’s arm and dragged him along into the nearest empty bed. Peter groaned as he was sprawled out and felt the pain fully consume his body. He didn’t know what kind of bullet it was, but all he knew was that it was not like any other bullet. The pain felt similar to few times he experienced growing pains, each major joint in his body was in a pain that is tenfold compared to your typical growing pains, almost like his limbs were being pulled and pushed repeatedly.

After cutting off the suit, Bruce had further examined the shard-like object closely. “I’m gonna have him put under to help with the pain, and then I can remove it and stitch him up, of course he’s going to need a blood transfusion and some time to rest, but other than that he should be okay.” He stated.

Tony nodded as he petted Peter’s hair. He stayed by his side during the IV being put in, to being knocked out by the nitrous oxide, to seeing the shard getting pulled out, to seeing Bruce carefully stitch the wound, and to now sitting by the bedside holding the boy’s smaller hand in his.

He didn’t know if he should have alerted May Parker of the fact that her nephew nearly died, but also, he was worried about what her reaction might be if he did. Tony couldn’t help but ponder on the thought of his love for Peter was beginning to get stronger, and it scared the absolute hell out of him.

Tony stroked his fingers through Peter’s messy brown hair, leaning in and gently resting his chin on top of the boy’s head. He stayed that way, listening to the machines beep and looking at the way the boy’s chest rises and falls as his faint breathing could be heard. He knew full and well that there was soon no denying he loved this kid more than his own father ever loved him, and he was more than proud of that.

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Bruce was running tests on that shard in the lab. Luckily there was blood samples that he could take and do further research on how it may affect Peter. He sat there staring into the microscope looking at the cells to see if any visible changes were being made, at first nothing seemed to be happening, just the same blood cells that he’s seen countless of times before. He looked away to only jot down the time and current state of the sample, but when he looked back, however, things had changed.

After trying to zoom in as best as he could the cells appeared to become smaller, almost to the point where he could hardly make them out. Bruce, puzzled by what was happening, lifted the slide from under the clips and studied how the sample smear had now become smaller and faint.

As he was writing down a few notes his phone ringing caused him to jolt in his chair. It was Tony.

“Hello?.”

“Bruce, I need you to get here right now,”

The severity in Tony’s voice made Bruce’s heart rate speed up.

“What happened, what’s wrong?.”

“Just get down here now!.”

Bruce pulled the phone away from his ear before hanging up and quickly running to the elevator, pressing the “H” button and waiting impatiently as the doors slowly opened. He did not know what the blood sample was indicating, but he had a feeling that it was something that was not good, and that it may already be having an affect on Peter.

Bruce rushed to where he could hear Tony panicking to the doctors and nurses. He could not see where Peter was, however. It was like the bed was empty, as though the web-slinging boy had escaped. Bruce rushed over to Tony - who was currently screaming in the face of a doctor. He grabbed his shoulders and turned him around, the billionaire held onto Bruce’s smaller frame for dear life.

“It’s the kid, he’s disappeared,” Tony panted.

“Okay, just take a deep breath, it’s gonna be fine, we’ll find him.” Bruce said as he rubbed Tony’s shoulders.

Tony shook his head . “No, you don’t understand, I was going to the restroom and when I came back, he wasn’t there anymore.”

“Didn’t any of the staff see him leave?.” Bruce questioned.

“No one saw him,” Tony said. “One second he’s there, and the next, he’s gone like Houdini.”

Bruce looked over to the bed to see the IV and needle for the blood transfusion had been pulled out. He noticed faint movement under the white sheets. Carefully, he lifted the covers and his eyes grew wider than the moon, wider than the sun. He leaned forward and peered down at an extremely small Peter Parker curled up against the white bed sheet.

“P-Peter?.” He mumbled.

The boy looked up at Bruce with squinted eyes before backing away in fear of the doctor’s size.

“No, it’s okay, I’m here to help you,” Bruce said in a soft voice. “I’m gonna take you somewhere safe, somewhere less noisy, okay?.”

He could barely make out Peter nodding. He gently laid his hand next to Peter, gesturing him to get on. The teen carefully crawled onto the calloused hand, his arms wrapped around tightly on the index finger. Bruce gently lifted his hand close to his chest, cupping another hand around Peter’s miniature form to shield him against the world.

Bruce leaned over to Tony’s ear, “Come with me to the lab,” he said pointing to his cupped hand.

Tony’s face contorted in confusion as he glanced at the scientist’s hand. The two snuck away from the confusion that was surrounding the bed, making it just in time as the elevator doors began to close. Bruce and Tony glance down to see Peter still gripping Bruce’s finger, his tiny face never looking up at the giant men. Tony delicately rubs his finger on Peter’s miniature back, earning a scared look from the tiny teen.

“Don’t be scared, Peter, we’ll find a way to fix this,” Tony gently stated.

🫃🏼🫃🏼🫃🏼

Peter felt like burying himself in a hole. He felt so exposed and weak in Bruce’s gentle hold. His suit didn’t shrink with him, and so here he was nude in front of Dr. Banner and Tony Stark, two more people he admired most in his life, looking at him with so much pity.

Bruce made him a little nest out of a shirt he took from the closet to let Peter become more comfortable as he watched the two men.

“I think there was something in those ray guns he mentioned before,” Bruce stated as he held his head in his hands. “But it’s something I’ve heard, but never actually seen before.”

Peter lay there curled up in the fetal position. It was all too much, everything was happening so fast that he couldn’t even get the chance to register what was going on. He was finding it hard to breathe, his chest tightening more and more as he attempted to take a breath.

Tony leaned just a foot above Peter. “It’s gonna be okay, kiddo, I promise we’ll figure something out,”

Peter couldn’t speak, something in his mind did not allow him to form sentences or words. He was beyond scared, he was past the point of dysphoria, he was now in this state of catatonia and it was scaring Tony.

“So what exactly have you found in these samples so far?.” Tony asked.

“Well, apart from the size reduction, nothing else could be detected for now, but I’m sure that this will have to wear off soon.” Bruce stated as he was looked through the telescope.

Tony slouches down on the office chair with a loud sigh. He glances down at the nest on Bruce’s desk. Peter lays there nestled up in fear and exhaustion, his eyelids drooping as he struggles to fight off his sleep, his head drooping down as he goes deeper and deeper into sleep. His body finally goes lax, sinking further into the nest.

“I’m gonna go run some more tests, but he’s gonna have to stay here,” Bruce said and glanced down at Peter hugging onto the fabric of the shirt.

Tony nods. “I’ll watch over him, just find a way to fix all this,”

After Bruce leaves the room, Tony plops himself down on the chair in front of the desk. He leans over and rests his head on his arms, covering Peter’s form with the sleeve of the shirt nest. The tiny teen nestled further into the nest, resembling a newborn sleeping peacefully.

Tony groans before getting an empty coffee cup from the corner of the desk and filled it with tap water, taking a sip just before his phone started ringing. It was Pepper. Tony sighs before answering the phone.

“Yes, Pep?.”

“Where the hell are you? Did you forget that meeting with the Chinese marketing branch? Tony this is important-“

“Pep, I got a lot of problems over here-“

“Yeah, we’ll if you don’t get ever here, your problems are about to get worse,” Pepper said in a warning tone.

Tony sighed as he glanced down at Peter. “Look, I’ll be there in five minutes, how’s that?.”

“Just get here asap!.”

Tony sighed after Pepper hung up. He didn’t know what do to exactly, but what he does know is that he’s not letting Peter leave this room, nor is he leaving him alone with someone he doesn’t trust. Tony groaned before opening his phone and making a call.

“Hello?.”

“Hey, Steve, how you doing?.”

“Uh, I’m doing good, how about yourself?.”

“I’m fine. Uh, listen, I was just wondering if you weren’t busy at the moment, I have a big favor to ask you.” Tony anxiously pinched the bridge of his nose.

He could hear Steve sigh on the other end of the phone.

“What is it, Tony?.”

“You remember, Peter, right, underoos?.”

“Oh yeah, Queens, what’s wrong with him?.”

“Well, there was an accident with him, Bruce is in the lab running some tests, and I have Pepper calling me in for a super important business meeting and I have no one to watch the little guy.” Tony cringed as he finished his sentence, glancing down to thankfully see a resting Peter.

Steve sighed heavily. “Alright, but no tricks or pranks from the kid.”

“It’s done, but could you get here right now because I really have to go?.”

“Okay, okay.”

Tony sighed in relief. “Thank you, Stevie, I owe you one… I’ll have Happy pick you up from your place, bye.”

Carefully leaning towards Peter, just five inches away. “I’ll be back, just stay here and don’t go anywhere or touch anything,”

Tony then carefully tucked the boy in before quietly exiting the room. Not even two minutes later, the teen was wide awake. Peter scanned the room thoroughly, part of a sleep draped over his frame as he sat there in deafening silence. He curled in further as he remembered everything that had happened, shivering in pure fear at the thought of being so feeble in front of his idols.

Peter smacked his lips and cringed at how dry his mouth had become. He threw off the sleeve with a huff, examining the once more before crawling out of the large bundle, glancing over at the coffee cup Tony had poured his water in. With determination, Peter ran as fast as his tiny legs could let him.

He looked up at giant cup and then at his hands. If he could climb walls with his suit, then he should be able to climb anything without it. Peter rubbed his hands together before he pressed his hand on the wall of the cup, only for it to not stick. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried his other hand, but that one wasn’t sticking to the cup either.

‘Did my powers go away too?.’ Peter thought.

Peter huffed again before climbing onto the bottom half of the handle. It was just like climbing the rope in gym class, except he was almost microscopic and naked, but with determination Peter hauled himself up the handle until he reached the top.

Peering down into the void that was the half empty mug, Peter frown at the lack of water, thinking that if he could just carefully slide down the inner wall of the mug, he just might…

He lost his footing, falling headfirst into the shallow pool, not only knocking the wind out of him as he lay there in what felt like three feet of water, but knocking him out in total.

And by the time Steve walked into the room, there was no trace of Peter whatsoever. The soldier looked around, calling out for the teen, but was met with no response.

‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom…’ Steve thought.

Steve glanced over at the closed door to the restroom, he sighed, opting not to talk to the boy as he was doing his business. So he sat there on the edge of Bruce’s bed and waited, and waited.

He waited until he curiosity got the best of him, and Steve gently knocked on the door.

“Peter?.”

A beat, no response.

Steve knocked a little louder. “Peter, it’s me, Steve - Captain America? I came here to watch you while Tony was gone, he had to go to a meeting… are you okay?.”

A beat, and no response.

Carefully, Steve opened the door and walked in to see no one in there. He sighed again.

‘Maybe he went to get something to eat?.’ Steve thought.

Confused, Steve sat on the chair in front of the desk. At least there was a great view of the city, something Steve came to appreciate more now that it had been nearly eleven years since he’d been thawed from the ice, just to see the promised innovations come to fruition.

Five minutes go by and Steve could feel his mouth becoming parched. He grabbed the mug, feeling it’s emptiness, before going into the bathroom and filling the mug from the tap. Completely unaware of what the contents lay in the mug, he fills it nearly to the brim before taking a large swig.

Peter remained unconscious throughout it all. The contracting muscles in Steve’s throat were not enough to wake up the boy. The soldier grimaced as he swallowed another sip of water, much harder this time as to ease the slight itch in his throat. Peter slid further down the man’s gullet, falling deeper into the pit of his stomach, landing against the soft inner walls.

But as he made contact with the small puddle of stomach acid, the acid in the small area around him glowed a vibrant neon yellow, before completely fading away. Peter still laid there unharmed, but still unconscious.

Steve laid a hand on his stomach, groaning at the burning sensation building up his throat. He began gagging, leaning over the toilet as a small amount of bile left his body. He groaned as he hugged the bowl, another pang of nausea washed over him before puking up more bile.

Peter woke up in confusion. The place was dark, but warm and muggy, like a sauna. He felt the walls around him vibrate and violently contract, nearly squeezing him and trapping him.

He could hear a loud pounding noise in the distance above him. It was fast whenever the walls around him contracted, but as soon as they expanded, the loud thumping sound would become slower. Another sound that caught him off guard, was the sound of someone talking.

At first it sounded muffled, like the person had been speaking to him underwater, yet it sounded as though they were right in front of him. Peter stood up before slipping and landing on the soft surface, he tried again, this time crawling on his hands and knees as he navigated through the darkness.

Steve laid a hand over his stomach, feeling an odd sensation that he never felt before. He glanced down and noticed that it was slightly bloated. He caressed it before giving it a firm slap.

Peter was then knocked over by something hard hitting the wall, causing the small space he was in to become an earthquake simulation. He held his aching head as he walked over to the wall, giving it a slight kick. Curious, Peter kicked it again, this time with much more strength.

Steve stopped dead in his tracks as he looked down at his stomach. “What the…?.”

He lifted his shirt and poked his stomach.

Peter response to this was a faint push from his hands.

Steve’s eyes went wide.

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Tony had sent a message to Bruce about Steve, but he couldn’t answer because his phone was on silent and his attention was drawn more towards the sample he kept running tests on and kept looking under a microscope. In the first hour, there were no visible changes, but when he came back after five minutes, something else was happening.

The cells from Peter’s blood began to grow, but only when they were introduced to a source of heat. Bruce then tried leaving a small portion of the sample in a fridge, and this only concludes that when left in the cold, the cells shrink further to the point of disappearing entirely.

The scientist’s eyes grew wide in shock as before he pulled out his phone and was immediately met with Steve’s caller ID.

“Hello, Steve?.”

Steve sounded scared over the other end of the phone.

“Bruce, something’s wrong with me,”

“W-what’s happening?.”

“I don’t know, but I think I’ve got some kind of stomach bug, I’m not sure but this isn’t like a regular stomach virus… I can feel it moving,”

“Moving? Where are you?.”

“Tony asked me to watch Peter, he said he wasn’t feeling to well, but when I got here I couldn’t find him, I thought maybe he went to go get something to eat?.”

“What exactly did you do when you walked into my room?.”

“I waited for Peter to come, and then I got some water in one of your mugs and drank that, and the next thing I know it feels like there’s something inside me,”

Bruce took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’ll be down there in a minute, just sit down and don’t do anything,” he said before hanging up.

Bruce bolted into action, going over to grab an ultrasound monitor along with a doppler, some gel, and a stethoscope and putting it all in his bag.

The ride in the elevator felt longer than usual. Perhaps it was his anxiety making time feel slower, that usually happens whenever it comes to an emergency. He bit his bottom lip as the numbers climbed up, before finally reaching floor. He rushed passed anyone in his way, his white coat flowing behind as he dashed all the way down the hall where he slammed open his door.

Steve jumped at the sound. Peter could hear it faintly, but he still flinched at the noise which sounded like that of a muffled gunshot. Steve’s hand landed over his stomach as he too felt the jolt inside, letting out a gasp, looking down at his stomach in fear.

“I came as fast as I could, what’s wrong?.” Bruce asked, setting down his bag on the desk, he looked at the bundle to find that Peter wasn’t there.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled in shock, turning back to face Steve. “Okay, when you said your stomach started to feel weird, that was after you drank water from the mug right?.”

Steve’s face twisted in confusion. “Yeah… wait, Bruce this isn’t making any sense, why does it matter that I drank from the mug, are you sick or something?.” He asked.

Bruce slipped on the stethoscope. “I’m gonna need you to lift your shirt up and lay down on the bed for me,”

“Bruce this doesn’t make any sense-“

Not wanting for Hulk to make an appearance, Bruce took a deep breath before slowly exhaling. “Steve, please just do as I say,”

Steve sighed before lifting up his shirt. His stomach had looked a bit bloated as he laid down on the bed. Bruce carefully placed the bell of the stethoscope over the pale skin of the soldier’s chest, his heart rate was normal, so that was a good sign. Hesitantly, Bruce moved the bell over on Steve’s stomach. The man froze with fear when he began to make out a distinct but faint thump thump thump along with muffled whimpers.

Bruce ripped off the stethoscope and went over to take out the ultrasound monitor along with the gel.

“What’s that?.” Steve asked

“It’s an ultrasound, I’m gonna see what exactly is happening in there,” Bruce weakly explained.

“B-But isn’t that for pregnant women?.” Steve asked nervously.

“Yes but it can be used for other things,” Bruce then took off the cap for the gel. “This might feel cold at first,” he warned before squirting the blue gel over his stomach.

Steve sucked in a breath of air as Bruce began moving the wand over his stomach. A small speck materialized in the black and white grainy screen. Bruce’s eyes blew wide open as he pressed the wand further onto Steve’s stomach. The speck then started to take form of a certain small boy curled up in a fetal position. Steve yelped as he felt another jolt in his stomach. Bruce yanked the wand away when he saw an arm push and the walls of the stomach.

“Okay, what the hell was that?!.” Steve asked.

Bruce licked his lips. “I know this is going to sound strange, but you’re not sick; from what I could guess, when you drank from the cup, you drank something else too.”

“Like what?.” Steve asked, whipping off the gel with the tissues on the nightstand.

“Well, the reason why Tony wanted you to look after Peter was because he was hit by something that caused him to shrink, and my best guess is that Peter woke up and wanted to see if there was something to drink in the mug, but he must’ve slipped in and you didn’t notice he was in there, so now Peter’s…”

Bruce gestured over to Steve’s stomach.

Steve’s glanced down, sighing heavily as he laid his hand on his stomach. “Okay, so how are we gonna get him out?.”

“Well, the thing is, I’ve been doing some tests on a blood sample I took from Peter. From what I could conclude, the only way for Peter to grow back to his normal size is if his blood is introduced to a source of heat.”

“Then that means…” Steve looked down at his stomach again. “Oh god, Bruce you have to do something!.”

“It’s going to be okay, just don��t panic, it’ll stress Peter out and he could easily go into cardiac arrest, just stay here and I’ll try to get Tony, okay?.”

Steve nodded, slouching back down in bed, his hand never leaving his stomach. “Um… Peter, I don’t know if you can hear me or not, but everything’s gonna be fine, just stay calm.”

Pete could this, and responded with a small push.

Steve gasped. “It’s me, Steve, Captain America, I promise everything’s gonna be okay Bruce is gonna find a way to get us out of this.”

Peter licked his lips. “O-Okay,” he called out to the dark space.

Steve shuddered as he not only heard Peter’s voice, but felt it reverberate in his stomach. He rubbed his stomach gently in the hopes of keeping the boy (and himself) calm. Out of all the things he had encountered, this was the most strangest, but somehow touching things Steve has been through.

Just as Peter was about to try and get comfortable, his body began to ache, like the growing pains he experienced before when he was thirteen and at the beginning of puberty. And then, the space around him felt slightly less spacious than before.

Steve could feel his stomach starting to feel full, and his mind tried to ignore the fact that this was, indeed, the start of many growth spurts.

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Nearly an hour had passed, and Steve was beginning to show. He looked as if he’d binge ate and could feel the pressure buildup. Peter tried his best not to move around as much, but with the space becoming tighter and smaller he had no other choice but just to stay in the same curled position for the first hour. Steve would often talk to him, to try and help lighten the situation, his hand never leaving his stomach.

“Uh, Captain, Mr. Rogers?.” Peter asked in a hushed tone.

“Yeah?.” Steve asked, his gaze never left his stomach either.

“If Dr. Banner and Mr. Stark can’t get me out of here, and if anything happens to you, I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry this had to happen to you.”

Steve could feel a pang of empathy, along with something he couldn’t describe, punch his heart harder than any man who tried to swing at him before. He laid both hands on the bulge in his stomach, hugging onto it, hugging Peter.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything, you’re a victim here, and I promise nothing would happen didn’t I?.”

“Yeah…” Peter’s voice faltered. “I’m just… scared,”

Steve could feel him sobbing and his breathing uneven. His heart was now on full empathy, comfort and care mode.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, shh…” Steve rubbed his stomach tenderly.

Peter could feel this, his back was being soothed by the gentle pressure Steve was applying. He decided that it would probably freak Steve out if he saw Peter’s facial features pressed up underneath his skin, so he had kept his back facing the outside of his stomach, and his body facing inwards, almost like he was hugging onto to him inside.

The next thing he knew, Steve was humming a tune. His tone rumbled all around him, encasing him in the sweet melody. Peter recognized the song as soon as Steve muttered the lyrics. It was “In The Mood” by Glen Miller.

Aunt May told him that his parents danced to this song on the night of their wedding, so listening to this made him feel relaxed as he nestled into the warmth. Another surge of pain rattled his body, and soon enough the space began to feel tighter, but the pain was more unbearable than the compact feeling.

Steve stifled a groan as another growth spurt started. His stomach ached and grumbled with pain as the content inside grew in size. He glanced down to see his stomach was in the beginning stages of looking like he was in his first trimester, a beach ball size was capable in no less than an hour. With nothing else to think of, Steve held and rubbed his stomach as he continued to sing and hum the song, hoping that Peter wouldn’t start freaking out.

“Uh, Mr. Rogers…?.”

“I know, just try not to move so much,” Steve grunted as he sat up, leaning against the pillows he propped up against the headboard, he sighed with relief. “There we go, I was starting to have some trouble breathing, not that any of it’s your fault, it’s not.”

Peter sighed at the new position he was in. He was now sitting rather than laying, but he could feel himself sliding down in the tight space, he could also hear Steve moan in relief as his stomach dropped, his hands cradling his newly formed and small belly.

“That’s much better, thank you, Mr. Rogers,”

Steve chuckled. “Call me Steve,”

“We’re on a first name basis?.” Peter looked up.

“Well, given the situation we’re in, I think it’s safe to say that we’re good in knowing almost every aspect of our lives,” Steve laughed, holding his little belly as he did.

The laugh made the space around Peter become cramped, but in a way that felt like a hug. It also felt like he was being lifted into the air, like how uncle Ben did to him when he was younger. Peter giggled at this, relishing in this moment of joy that he hadn’t genuinely felt in a long time.

Peter groaned as another sharp pain shot through his body and the space was now becoming a bit tighter.

Steve held onto his belly as it grew three sizes, moaning at how big he was getting. His shirt was beginning to lift up, revealing a sliver of pale skin, he held it close as he continued to grow.

A loud and sharp ping echoed throughout the room. Steve reached down and felt his pants had been unbuttoned on their own, the button was no longer there, and the zipper was being pushed down by the now beach ball-sized belly. His shirt rode all the way up to his robust pecks, showing off his now pregnant-looking belly to the world.

Peter looked up. “A-Are you okay, Mr. Rogers?.”

Steve inhaled heavily, trying to get used to the newfound pressure that had been building up. He rubbed his belly, looking down to see a more distinct outline of Peter’s body compacted into the small space. Steve cradled his belly close, rubbing small circles on Peter’s back.

Steve took in a quick breath of air. “I’m okay buddy, just stay calm, I’m sure Bruce and Tony are on their way,”

A beat of silence filled the room again.

“Did you want to become Captain America?.” Peter asked hesitantly.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “What?.”

“When you became Captain America, did you want to do it, be a superhero?.”

Steve’s mind went blank for a moment; he never got that question before.

“I mean, I wasn’t meant become a superhero, I was just a soldier doing his job. But sometimes I think of what life would’ve been like without the serum, without being frozen.” Steve said, arms still wrapped securely around his belly.

“I know you wanted to go back to the 40s, to be with Peggy Carter, but how come you stayed here?.” Peter asked.

Steve sighed heavily, the muffled woosh of air echoed above Peter.

“I stayed because I have everyone here,” Steve said. “Natasha, Tony, Sam, and Bucky… and now you.”

Peter smiled warmly before nestling further in. “Thank you, Steve,”

Steve smiled as he felt Peter move and rubbed his belly. “You’re welcome buddy,”

The pair laid there in the newfound bliss. Steve rubbed his belly until Peter began nodding off to sleep.

Just outside the door, Tony and Bruce watched the scene play out. Tony had pulled his phone out and recorded a video of Steve smiling at his stomach as he stroke it. He was usually his sarcastic and stand-off-ish self, but something about watching the moment made Tony smile to himself, something paternal radiating inside him like rays coming off the sun.

Bruce opened the door and walked in with a box of supplies. Steve didn’t take his gaze off the box.

“So how’s the father-to-be doing?.” Tony joked.

Steve rolled his eyes before putting a finger to his lips. “He just fell asleep,”

“How’s he doing?.” Bruce asked, taking out his stethoscope and laying it on Steve’s belly where he saw Peter’s back.

“He’s okay, he’s just really scared, I’ve been comforting him,”

“I think after this he’ll be way closer to you than he is now,” Tony smiled, gently rubbing in stretch-mark lotion onto Steve’s lower belly.

The super soldier moaned in delight. “Thanks, Tony,”

“No problem, Stevie,”

Bruce takes off the stethoscope from his ears. “Thankfully his breathing’s okay, his heartbeat is normal too, but I don’t think the growth spurts are going to stop, when was the last one?.”

“About a minute ago-“ Steve groaned again, holding his belly as it started growing again.

Tony held Steve’s hand as he watched this, his other hand still resting on the bottom half of the belly.

“Just breathe in your nose slowly and out your mouth,” Bruce instructed.

Steve nodded and took deep breaths.

Judging from the size his belly was, Peter was close to his full body size, and Tony began to worry.

“Okay Bruce, what’s the plan?.” The billionaire asked.

Bruce sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “So, since Peter’s already late in this stage of his regrowth process, our options are that we basically freeze you both and Peter shrink down in size again, or we surgically remove him, or - and this is just a theory - but we freeze you just until Peter could be moved lower and lower until you could practically “deliver” him.”

Steve sighed heavily, rubbing the side of his belly. “What happens if I get him surgically removed at this size?.”

Bruce sighed. “Well, the odds of you recovering are slim, if anything the chances of you even surviving this are extremely thin given the situation,”

Tony threw his hands in the air. “So why recommend it to begin with?!.”

“Tony be quiet you’ll wake up Peter!.” Steve whisper-yelled.

The boy in his belly shifted, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “Steve?.”

“It’s okay Peter, Tony and Bruce are here,” Steve spoke in voice so gentle, Tony thought he was listening to a different person.

“Mr. Stark?.” Peter spoke weakly.

Tony leaned over to Steve’s side. “I’m here, kiddo. How are you holding up in there?.”

“I’m fine, I’m just nervous,” Peter said in a stuttered voice.

“Don’t be, I’m here and Bruce is gonna make sure nothing happens to you or Steve,” Tony said reassuringly.

“How?.” Peter asked.

Steve sighed and held his belly close. “Well, they’re going to find a way to shrink you down a little, and then they’ll get you out from there,”

“But how?.”

“Well, if I get a surgery done, then that’ll be more complicated for me because you’re still in my stomach, and that’ll be harder to do since we don’t have all the things ready. But there’s also another option that we could get you out at this size, but I don’t think that’ll be any better. Then there’s another option, and probably one that I’m going for, are you ready to hear it?.” Steve asked.

“Sure…”

Steve sighed heavily. “We can shrink down to a certain size, and then I’d basically… push… you out,”

The room stayed quiet as they all cringed at the thought.

“Won’t I get hurt? Like digested?.” Peter asked.

“I mean you’re still alive, by now you’d be dead from the stomach acids dissolving away your muscles-“

Steve kicked Bruce’s leg, giving him a warning glare as he rubbed his belly.

“There aren’t any acids from what I could tell, I can’t feel any liquid around me,” Peter explained.

“Well that’s good,” Tony said. “So he should be okay making it through to the end, right?.”

“I mean, since there’s no acids digesting him to waste, I think it’s safe for us to go down that route… Steve, Peter what do you guys think?.” Bruce asked.

“Just as long as none of us die, it’s good to me,” Peter called out from within.

Steve pulled his belly closer and nodded. “Okay, let’s do it,”

🫃🏼🫃🏼🫃🏼

It took nearly three hours to shrink Peter down to the size of an apple. Steve lay there shivering in the thirty bags of ice Tony had FRIDAY order. He had stripped down to nothing before being lowered in, gripping onto the sides of the tub as Bruce covered his belly with ice, even going so far as to turning on the cold water to fully envelope his large body. Tony had made sure a stack of warm towels lay close by, along with a bath robe for Steve.

Steve moaned as Tony and Bruce tried helping Peter move into the right position. His head pointing downwards so he could find the pyloric sphincter.

“You should feel it getting tighter, like entering a small tunnel,” Bruce called out.

“I can feel it!.” Peter said.

Steve moaned. “He found it, good job, buddy,”

“Okay, Peter, this is where it’ll get tricky, but just keep following to where the tunnel will lead you.” Bruce instructed.

Tony held Steve’s hand in his. “How do you feel?.”

“Like a baseball is falling down my body,” Steve muttered.

“Don’t worry, this is just the beginning,”

“Why do I feel like this is some elaborate set-up to make it look like I’m giving birth?.” Steve asked.

Tony smirked. “Do you honestly think I’d make you and the kid suffer like this?.”

“No, but this outcome feels a whole lot like degrading me,���

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you or the kid, I can’t risk losing anyone else,” Tony said in a sincere tone.

Steve smiled softly, squeezing Tony’s hand as he felt Peter move further down. “When he’s out he’s gonna need a heat source, let me hold him afterwards, okay?.”

“Of course,”

Steve groaned again, putting Tony’s hand in the worse death grip he ever had in his entire life.

Bruce could feel Peter was getting closer to the lower intestine. “Pretty soon you’re gonna have to start pushing, and whenever that happens it feel like you to-”

“I get it, Bruce,” Steve said.

Bruce nodded, grabbing a jar of Vaseline. “This will be needed too,”

Steve cringed and could feel Peter getting lower and lower.

‘This isn’t his fault, this isn’t his fault, he’s just as much of a victim as you are…’ Steve thought.

“Oh god!.” Steve howled.

“What’s wrong?.” Tony asked in a concerned voice.

“He’s grown a little, he does feel so small like he used to,” Steve groaned again.

“Let’s just give him some leeway,” Bruce said, before massaging Steve’s lower bloated torso.

The super solid moaned in pleasure as he felt Peter’s form gliding further down. His eyes bulged when he felt the feeling.

“Okay, I think it’s time,” Steve said lifting his legs it of the partially melted ice.

“I don’t know how this will work… I can’t really feel his head, so I suggest you gently push just to get him closer, when you feel a… burning sensation… that’s when you would start pushing, but don’t push too hard or too long, he might suffocate.”

Steve nodded before pushing down. He could a lump going further down, groaning in pain. He took short rapid breaths before bearing his teeth and giving another slight push. With the help of his body trying to get its occupant out, and Peter shimmying his way closer and closer to Steve’s hole, a pain like none other had ignited in him.

“Oh god, I can feel it coming!.” Steve said with tears flowing down his face.

Tony held both of Steve’s hands as Bruce began to lube his hole.

“Alright, Steve I’m gonna need you to give me a big push when I count to ten, alright?.”

Steve nodded getting his body ready.

“Okay… 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 relax.”

Steve let out a huge gasp as he gripped Tony’s hand.

“His head’s almost out, just two more big pushes and he should be out,” Bruce explained.

Steve groaned again as he could feel another growth spurt. He took a deep breath, pressing his chin to his chest as he started pushing again.

Bruce gently pulled Peter’s head out. “His head is out, we just need to get passed the shoulders,”

“You’re doing good, Steve,” Tony wiped the sweat off Steve’s forehead.

Steve took in another deep breath and pushed, grunting and grinding teeth.

“I got one shoulder, just another push,”

Steve pushed harder, tears seeping out from his clenched eyes.

“Okay, you’ve passed the shoulders, just one more big push and it’s over,” Bruce said.

Steve inhaled, his chest rising, and heaved with all his strength, a vein coming out in his forehead.

And suddenly, with a giant sigh of relief, Steve fell against the tub, his flushed red skin slowly going back to its normal hue.

Bruce immediately lifted a pineapple-size Peter out from the water. Tony scrambled to get him a towel wrapping as much as he could around the small boy. Bruce gently pried his finger into the boy’s mouth to induce his gag reflex. Peter began to gag and cough, spitting out whatever fluid he had in him, the burn of fresh air stung his lungs, causing him to wheeze as he inhaled.

“Is he okay?.” Steve asked weakly.

Tony nodded and brought the boy close to show Steve.

Steve gently brushed his finger over the small face. “Help me up,”

“Are you sure you should stand after that?.” Tony asked.

“I want to hold him, he needs to get warm and so do I… get me the robe and some towels,” Steve gruffly instructed.

Bruce and Tony shared a look before nodding. Bruce gently lifted Steve out of the tub, wrapping him in a towel to quickly dry him off before offering him the blue bath robe. The pair shuffled carefully over to the bed, pulling off the covers and allowing Steve to lay down, with Tony following closely behind as he cradles Peter.

Bruce went over to the closet. “I have an electric heating blanket, this should help,” he said, plugging in the blanket and setting it at a high temperature.

Steve opened his arms out. “Lay him on my chest,”

Tony gives a quick nod before setting Peter down on the blonde’s broad chest. Steve wraps his arms around Peter, finally hugging him and listening to his little whimpers as he shivered in his embrace. Bruce laid the blanket over them, with the top of Peter’s head peeping out near the edge. Steve rubbed his little back as he laid there in peace, the weight of the boy was becoming heavier as he began to slowly grow back to his normal height.

Tony knelt beside the bed as he watched the pair. His eyes stung with tears threatening to spill. Bruce sat down on the chair near the desk, watching the scene play out like a cheesy rom-com.

Peter shifted, his doe eyes looking up at Steve. “S-Steve…?.”

“It’s okay, Peter, you’re safe now,” Steve said, resting his cheek on the boy’s head.

Peter looked up to see Tony with watery eyes. “Mr. Stark?.”

“You gave us a scare back there kid,” Tony said, petting the wet locks of brown hair.

“I’m sorry about-“

“Don’t even start, this wasn’t your fault,” Tony said.

“Just as long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters,” Steve said softly.

Peter let out a yawn before resting his head right above Steve’s heart. His eyelids dropped lower and lower as he heard Steve’s comforting heartbeat.

“Rest up, kiddo, you too Cap… you two deserve it,” Tony said, tucking in the blankets

He and Bruce exchanged looks before leaving the room, taking one last glance as Steve drifted to sleep, holding Peter tightly to his body. Tony took one last picture, smiling to himself before closing the door.

“He should get back to his normal size in an hour or so,” Bruce said.

“Mhm,” Tony hummed.

“So, what do you think about Steve replacing you as Peter’s father figure?.” Bruce joked.

Tony scoffs. “Please, if anything Steve’s become more of a mommy than a daddy,” he quipped. “If anything those two will be like peas in a pod, all cozy in their solitude.”

——————————————————————

***author’s note***

Ok so I know that a lot of people may not be into vore (or in this case mpreg with the undertones), however I won’t just stick to one topic that involves my favorite fictional men and giving them a gorgeous belly. If you did happen to enjoy this, feel free to leave a comment or some suggestions for new ideas, like? reblog? idk

[chubthings-by-georgie]

Finally have a place to organize my chub fics!!

A short oneshot depicting the lovely and peaceful life of Steve and Bucky one year after marriage and how happiness and Bucky’s cooking habits have affected Steve’s waistline.

[letsyapthenightaway]

I miss when the Avengers hung out, Thor ate Poptarts, Loki moved in, Natasha did Ballet, Clint was in the vents, Steve couldn't cook and was drawing, Bucky and Sam were bickering, Tony and Bruce were in the lab, Wanda cooking, going to school with Peter.

…it was never real but I miss it.

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (10) - Apologies

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Former!Boss!Steve Rogers x Former!Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: angst, flirty CEvans characters, language, plus-sized/chubby reader, protective brothers, Lloyd being Lloyd, arguments, fighting, violence, brothers being brothers, choking (non-sexual), injuries

A/N: We are back to business and bam, did I just add another brother? Yes. No. Maybe.

The assistant masterlist

The assistant (9) - Revenge for champions

Lloyd reluctantly opens the gate for Steve. He eyes the captain warily, and huffs. “Captain Asshole.” He grunts.

“Kidnapper,” Steve bites back. Like promised, he came in civilian clothes, and without his shield. He’s carrying a duffle bag while surveilling the property on his way toward the mansion.

“I see Captain Asshat came,” Ari sneers at Steve. He looks the captain up and down, wondering what everything sees in the blonde.

“Play nice, Ari,” Andy warns. He doesn’t like having Steve on their property either, but this way, the brothers have control over the situation. And he made a few calls. Things will go according to his plan, not Steve’s. “No killing Captain America.”

Lloyd snorts. “Speak for yourself, not me. If he only breathes wrong, he’ll bite a bullet.”

“Ah, we already reached the status of threatening,” Curtis steps out of the mansion, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Jake checks on the cameras, and Mike is doing Pilates or crap with Y/N.”

“If he touched her,” Steve wants to jump at Curtis. “I’ll break his neck.”

“Whoa…whoa,” Lloyd points his index finger at Steve. “If anyone breaks our little chaos’s neck, it’s me. He’s my brother, not yours.”

Andy coughs and looks away. He doesn’t know how to tell his brothers whom he called to join forces with them. If they must fight Captain America and the Avengers, they’ll need every help they can get.

“So, uh—” he loosens his tie. “We should talk about something before we let him inside. I made a few calls and asked for a favor.”

“You asked for a favor?” Curtis turns his head to look at his brother. “Andy, what did you do? I hope you don’t try to bullshit us with your lawyer crap again.”

“I wish it was only about lawyer crap…” Andy looks at the still-open gate. He huffs and removes his tie. “I called someone to join us today.”

“Another guest?” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “Andy, we’ve got our hands full with Captain Turd over there. I don’t have the nerves to handle our little chaos, Cappy and another guest.”

“Here we go…” Ari sighs when a car drives through the open gate. He shakes his head before punching Andy’s arm. “He’s an outcast, brother. How dare you call him?”

“He’s still our brother,” Andy argues. “I mean…yeah…he chose another family over us, and his love for money is making me sick but…”

“Andrew Barber, there is no but!” Lloyd lunges at his brother. He has his hand around Andy’s throat to slam him into the wall.

“Whoa, stop it!” Ari struggles to drag Lloyd off his brother. “We don’t kill each other, Lloyd. Save your energy for our real enemies.”

“He invited Ransom fucking Drysdale, Ari! How could he? That bastard said we are not brothers,” Curtis yells as said man gets out of his brand-new car. “You! Get off our property!”

Curtis storms toward Ransom to punch his face. “You fucker!” Ransom dodges the next punch. He likes the finer things in life but didn’t forget how to fight. “Andy called me!”

“What is this all about—” Jake and Mike stop in their tracks. While Ari tries to keep Lloyd from strangling Andy, Curtis and Ransom throw punches at each other. “Guys! What’s going on here?”

“So, this is how you keep Y/N safe?” Steve huffs. He drops his duffle bag to the ground to storm past Jake and Mike. “I’ll get her out of this madhouse!”

“Buddy, you better stay out,” Jake puts his hand on Steve’s chest to stop him and make things worse. He doesn’t stand a chance against Captain America, but right now, he gives a shit.

“GUYS!” you stomp your foot. “What is going on here?” You storm toward Lloyd to slap his shoulder. “Lloyd, let go of Andy. Ari same goes for you. Stop hitting your brother’s back.”

“But—” Lloyd pouts. “He…and then…and he invited the gold-digger!”

“I don’t care, Lloyd Hansen,” you poke his arm. “We do not hurt the people we love. I want you to apologize to your brother.” You harrumph and tap your foot. “Lloyd, apologize to your brother or there will be no dessert for you.”

Lloyd’s eyes darken. He looks at your crotch and hums. “I love me some dessert, Cupcake. What do you have to offer?”

“Not that, you little pervert,” you slap the back of his head. “Now play nice, Lloyd.”

“Fine,” he pouts. “I’m sorry for choking you.” He looks at Andy, not sorry at all.

“Ari, your turn,” you point at Ari. “I’m waiting. There will be no head massage and hair pulling for you if you do not apologize for slapping your brother.”

“Is it just me, or is this kind of hot?” Lloyd grins. He’s happy that he isn't the only one who got in trouble this time.

“Lloyd, I’m sorry for slapping your back. Even though you deserved it and I only tried to keep you from choking Andy to death.”

“Very well,” you clap your hands and turn your attention toward Mike. “Are you okay? Did one of them hurt you too?”

“No, I’m good but—” He points at Curtis and Ransom. They are tangled in each other, fighting for control. “Uh-we should stop them too…”

“Christ on a cracker!” You throw your hands up. “You…” you point at Steve. “Hands off Jake.” You look at Jake. “Jakie, no violence. How about you and Mike talk some sense into your brothers.”

“Sure, Sweetie,” Jake relaxes when you press a soft kiss on his cheek. “But if he blinks, I’ll smash him with my laptop.”

“Fair,” you nod and walk toward Curtis and Ransom. Curtis tries to wrestle Ransom to the ground while Ransom tries to kick Curtis’s shin. “Guys, what’s your problem?”

“Hey,  Sunshine,” Curtis pants. He pushes Ransom to the ground, grabs his arm, and twists it. “We are good, Y/N. Just give me a minute to convince my brother to leave our property.”

“Another brother,” you crouch down to get a better look at the man on the ground. “You really are the seven dwarfs.” You smirk at the man staring up at you. He grins and licks his lips.

“Oh, that’s a nice new addition,” Ransom purrs. “Tell me, Sugar. Whom do you belong to?”

“She’s our friend, stop hitting on her,” Curtis puts his foot onto Ransom’s chest. “You are not welcome here.”

Ransom sucks his lower lip in. “She belongs to all of you.” He whistles. “You’re a sweet thing. Hmm…I can think of a thing or two to make you happy.”

“Ransom!” Jake grunts. “Don’t talk like that to Y/N!”

“Curtis, let his arm go,” you place your hand on Curtis’s shoulder to calm him. “People are watching.” You whisper. “We don’t want to draw too much attention toward us. Remember?”

“You’re lucky she stopped me,” Curtis drops Ransom’s arm and steps away. “If not I’d rip your arm out to slap you to death with it.”

“Curtis!” You tut. “Why are you so angry at him?”

“He left us when we needed him the most,” Lloyd wraps his arm protectively around your shoulders. “We were barely fifteen, and that bastard talked some rich people into adopting him. They wanted an heir, and he wanted to get away from us.”

“Can you blame me for not wanting to end up being a mobster and get shot dead? I wanted more from life than that. Just like Andy. But he’s here, parading around the mansion!” Ransom growls. “You forgave him for leaving, but not me. I was a kid looking for hope.”

“You’re a gold-digging whore wanting shiny things, nothing else,” Lloyd spits on the ground next to Ransom. “I suggest you stay far away from me, and Y/N.”

“Lloyd…” Andy sighs. “Please stop this shit. You can’t expect all of us to want the same things you want from life. We tried a different life, okay. The moment you called I was there. Just like Ransom came here after I asked him for help.”

“He won’t get one of the good bedrooms,” Lloyd pecks your cheek before he turns to walk inside the mansion to calm down. “We should head inside and…” he looks at the still-open gate. “Can someone close the fucking gate?”

“So…” you press a cool pack to Curtis’s cheek, “Ransom is the last brother or are there more of you?”

“You can’t get enough of us, huh?” Ari smirks. He bandages his hand while glaring at Lloyd sitting across from him. “You didn’t have to choke Andy.”

“You didn’t have to…” Lloyd mimics Ari. “I do whatever the fuck I want to do.”

Jake and Mike keep out of their fight. They busy themselves watching Steve. The captain sulks in a corner while you play nurse for the brothers.

After offering a cool pack to Ransom and taping his split eyebrow, you took care of Curtis. “Press the cool pack to your cheek. It will help.”

“Thank you, Sunshine,” Curtis sighs when you run your hand over his head. “You’re the best.”

“Andy, no. We need to put something on that too,” you sniffle looking at Andy’s bruised neck. You carefully touch his skin. “Lloyd, you should be ashamed of hurting your brother like that. This is not okay.”

“I said I’m sorry,” Lloyd grumbles under his breath. “He had it coming. What’s a good choking among brothers, right?” He flashes you a smile. “Come on, that one was funny.”

“Not if anyone gets hurt, Lloyd,” you tut. “I thought we wanted to prove to Captain Rogers that I’m safe with all of you. The moment he set foot onto your ground you started fighting each other.”

Steve crosses his arms over his chest. He watches you and listens closely. This is his chance. If he can convince you that the brothers are dangerous, you’ll follow him.

Part 11

Tags in reblog.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄: Wall Sex w/ Steve Rogers

a/n: y'all are gonna watch as i absolutely fuckin' grind to get caught up with kinktober because i physically, mentally and psychologically REFUSE to continue posting for this challenge in november.

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

One thing that came with being thicker than others for the majority of your life, you often doubted people's ability to be able to carry you. 

Maybe it was a skill issue regarding them, but each time without fail, the men in your life had asked and failed to pick you up, which ended up just embarrassing both parties. 

That was before you had met Steve. Steve was so ridiculously strong, and he loved to show off, especially after you'd told him about the others' past failures.

"Ah! Steve!" You yelped in surprise.

You went from riding your boyfriend on the bed to being raised up into the air and walked backwards until your back hit the wall. 

His mischievous laugh rang out in your ear as he continued to fuck you from below, your body dangerously shooting up the wallpaper. Your grip on his shoulders tightened in fear, but that fear manifested itself along with your arousal, adding to your pleasure.

"You're gonna drop me!" You whimpered. He just smirked at you.

"You're fine, sweetheart." He cooed, pulling your body slightly off of his cock before slamming back. "Fuck! Stevie, 'm serious." You said, but your words were weak and lacked any bite behind them. He knew you had given up when he felt the roll of your hips against his pelvis.

"No," He started, "You're not." He finished, pulling out once more only to slam back into you, his cock kissing your g-spot.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

I have actual fucking brain rot.

I can not stop thinking about how soft Bucky is looking in Thunderbolts trailer, particularly this moment with the dishwasher, like... his sides. That little bit of delicious muffin top. His waistband. That little tummy. His pecs. The soft point of his nipple up against the stark black arm. His nonprosthetic arm, too! He looks thick.

Now, all I can picture is Steve waking up earlier than his boyfriend, barely managing to crawl out of bed away from the sleepy, soft shape of Bucky in their bed, hogging all the blankets and heating up faster than an oven. He looks good enough to eat, though, so his bed-hogging is acceptable. He really does look edible - his boxers are slung low on his pinchable, wide hips and his wife beater has rolled up in his sleep to fully expose the morning-soft, empty slope of his tummy. Probably the only reason he hasn't stripped his beater off is because the stretched fabric has caught around his puffy pecs. His nipples - seemingly pinker and softer by the day - jut through the white fabric. But, they can't just stay in bed all day, so Steve wanders out of the bedroom into the kitchen to get his morning routine going (including making something to eat that isn't his mouthwatering boyfriend).

After a bathroom break, Steve starts on his routine, and they ran the dishwasher overnight, so he starts there.

But, the usually simple morning task has become increasingly more complex and time-consuming, illustrated by how Bucky's arm is far from the only thing in the dishwasher this morning. Thanks to his boyfriend's expanding appetite (and expanding waistline) they're running the washer more often all the time. Plates, bowls, cups, and cutlery fly off their shelves and drawers. Their tableware is getting used. Because, as Steve is rapidly learning, with a bigger appetite comes the need for more types of food with every meal. No longer when they get takeout can they have just two mains to share between themselves, rather they get appetizers, entrees, sides, and desserts. Plus, between meals, Bucky's snacks grow and grow. He's using extra plates, bowls, and cutlery just for a little something-something to keep him going. And that isn't even to mention how when they're cooking from scratch, Bucky will prepare so much food that he needs way more crockery than he used to. He can't store the pile of stirfry he plans to devour in one sitting on a single dinner plate! Don't be ridiculous!

So, more kinds of dishes, frequent snacks, and bigger portions make Stevie a boy with a heavily loaded dishwasher. But... Ultimately, Steve can't complain about how his morning chore is evolving.

He's just finished touring around their kitchen, putting everything back in its place, when Bucky finally comes stumbling out to the land of the living. With every step, his little starter belly jiggles enough to make a growl of hunger rise inside of Steve - the growl isn't from the kind of hunger that has Bucky pressing his organic hand to his butter-soft belly, sinking his hand in with a frown etched into his handsome face, finding just how deep his pit of hunger is. It's been a whole 8 hours since he's had something to eat, after all, and that just won't do.

Steve hand delivers (ha) his freshly washed prosthetic to his grumpy, rumbled morning boyfriend, kissing the red, pillow-lines on his cheek. As Bucky mumbles something of a "thank you" Steve can't stop himself from doing more than just kissing his cheek, his lips slide down his face to nip and bite at the hinge of his softening jaw. He is counting down the days until Bucky develops an honest to God double chin. There's just something about the way that Bucky's face is built that Steve knows will compliment a pudgy chin so perfectly. He'll be rounder and softer and look so... healthy.

Steve just wants to see him put some meat on his bones. He deserves to be well-rested and well-fed.

His arm clicks into place, Bucky shivers with the adjustment, and his belly rumbles again. Steve bites at him a little harder, debating if it's worth the faux grief he'll get from Bucky from trying something so early in the morning (yeah, 10:00 AM, Buck, soooo early) if he sucks a love bite into that bit of softness under his jaw. It probably wouldn't last through breakfast anyway, so what's the harm?

Just as Steve starts to mark his husky boyfriend up, his plans are foiled by the wonderful fucking distraction of said chunky, chubby, grumpy cat boyfriend trying to button the pants he somehow slid his thick thighs and bubble-butt into (they are painted on, Steve swears). Steve's mouth falls away from his jaw with a breathy moan, looking down with the best seat in the house to see Bucky struggle with both arms, trying to make the loop and button of his jeans meet in the middle. The only slight problem? This soft cushion of fat over his once rock-hard abs is so in the way.

He isn't even close to making his pants button, struggling literally around his belly and hips that are pooching out over his waistband. Steve hasn't had a muffin in a long time but, suddenly, he could go for a muffin. Although, no baked good would hit the spot like Bucky can. Bucky and his muffin top giving Steve the worst kind of craving.

Eagerly, Steve plasters himself to his chunky boyfriend's side, staring down, entranced, by how Bucky tries to suck in, not to make it easier to button his pants, Steve realizes quickly, but to try and see what he's working with. He's too fat for his pants, scratch that, he's too fat to see the button on his pants. That's different. There's a fucking difference between outgrowing your pants, gaining enough that you can't make them button anymore, and outgrowing your pants to the point that you can't find the button. That's -

Steve doesn't know how to react other than stifle back a hearty groan and instead, hoarsely comment, "I think you need new pants, Buck."

Bucky lets his head hang against his chest, making his chin double for real.

Steve bites his tongue hard to keep himself from making an embarrassing sound. He looks so soft.

"I think I'm gonna need another arm, too," Bucky murmurs after a beat of silence, talking almost to himself - maybe talking to his belly, looking down the way he is.

Steve can't help but shiver. He's not cool, but he tries to play it cool, shrugging, "eh, I think you should hold off, big boy," Steve can't help the endearment, it just slips out. Big. He is. He's big. Steve wants him bigger so bad that he wants to crawl out of his skin. Steve has a super metabolism, he wakes up voraciously hungry, but right now he could feed purely off of cooking for Bucky and watching him crush a full-course breakfast in his too-tight pants and rolling-up wife beater. "Because there are enough dishes in the dishwasher to tell me you're not done with your growth spurt yet. And you wouldn't wanna bother Shuri too much, making her re-size you twice." Steve is compelled to pat his tummy when it growls again, so he does. There is no stopping him.

He's exactly as soft and jiggly as he looks.

Surprisingly, though, for this being the first time they're talking about this out in the open, Bucky leans into his daring comment. Literally. He rocks back on his heels, pressing his belly into Steve's hand, "fine," he sighs, chuckling to himself, "guess you're right, Rogers. For once."

Steve doesn't take the bait, he just... squeezes Bucky's belly. He's obsessed with this.

[laythestar]

You're my sweet sweet flower

Author's Notes: If you guys like it, I can write more of Mafia!Steve being a simp for reader <3

Words: 493.

Many would think that a man like Steve Rogers would be cold with his new girlfriend.

  Mostly because he was the Head of the Mafia, they called him The Captain; the man that no one could defeat. He had connections with doctors, policemen and even people in the media like actors, models and journalists. Everyone feared Steve Rogers, because how could you predict the next step of the man that is always three steps ahead of you.

   So it was a surprise to his men when they saw Steve be so sweet, so gentle and patient with his new girlfriend. Because unlike this relationship, Rogers was always aloof with his partners, always distant and always secretive to them.

“My flower, are you sure you don’t want me to buy these heels for you? You could wear them on our next date? They match that dress that I bought for you.” Steve spoke softly, caressing your arm while the two of you were scrolling through the app where you bought your clothes.

   In the end, Steve managed to make you let him buy not only the heels, but the necklace that matched the heels, the earrings that matched the necklace and the purse that matched with the earrings. He was the leader of a Mafia, he knew how to persuade people.

   His men continued to watch both of your interactions, the only one who was used to this was Bucky, but it was because he was literally the one that brought the two of you together (It were a hard work for him but in the end he succeeded in making his best friend achieve happiness).

   It was a common thing for Steve to call you flower, they didn’t knew why he called you that, but you were called flower. He usually spent his free time on facetime just to know what you were doing, how was your vacation in Italy with your friends. If you were on your period Steve would order Bucky to buy everything you need and only Bucky was allowed to do this because no one else could know where your house was.

   On Fridays Steve always bought flowers; red tulips, because he saw that it meant a declaration of love. And usually, the flowers were accompanied with some expensive chocolate. And if he couldn’t take you on your usual dinners, because of his meeting with his men or potential allies, Steve would be so heartbroken that you shouldn’t be surprised if he cancels all of the meetings he has the next day just to spend the entire day cuddling with you.

    With all that, what the Steve Rogers’ men could see was that he was completely enamored with you, and if the hickeys on his neck could be any indication, you were also very passionate about him.

Well, at least their boss stopped being the aggressive person he was before he met you. So they consider this a win.

[bucksangel]

this isn’t aimed at anyone in particular but i really hate reading fics with chubby/fat characters and the author saying something along the lines of “they were chubby but still beautiful” heavily implying that being fat/chubby is Bad and Ugly when it is exactly the opposite. people who are fat and chubby are beautiful, and that includes their weight. it’s not an add on, it’s not a “i love them even though…”

i understand not everyone might be aware of the wording of their writing because society has taught us that being anything other than a socially acceptable weight is wrong, but im begging y’all to please fight it and showcase it in your writing.

[mcudc616]

captain america: the winter soldier.

[chubthings-by-georgie]

More stucky things!! BIIIIGGG STEVIE this time!

i just wanted an excuse to write a big fat stevie be spoiled with all the food he could ever possibly want!!

[nana1000night]

Just imagine you're this man's babysitter

Warnings: smut, my period is visiting so blame her okay? Don't like don't read.

You've just lulled his daughter to sleep. Have your own time to wait until Steve back from his retirement party.

The door swing open and the super soldier show up, he smiled to you.

"Are you eat?" He shaakes his head

"Do you mind if I prepare something for you?"

His grins wider and nod

“That'd be my pleasure. Thank you doll.”

He leaves to the bathroom, takes a shower and checks his sweet little angel is sleeping sound.

And when he back to the kitchen, he sees you wear an apron and busy with cooking for him.

Steve's adam's apple moves up and down, his eyes follow the giggle and the sway of your ass and the pair of plump thighs.

“You wear skirt today.” He said.

“Huh? Oh yeah, just...want to try something new. Is that okay with wearing this to do my duty?”

“Wear anything you want, doll. I want to make you feel comfortable in here, with us.”

You send him a sweet, appreciate smile, and his cock twitch in his boxers.

Ohh, you would be the death of him.

“So... how's your party?” You sit across him, watching him enjoy your food. And you pour him a glass of orange juice.

“It's not that bad if I'm honest say. But some people just live for poking their nose to others's life. They kept asking for the reason why I adopt Sarah. And they just can't stop trying to set a trap and wantt to find who she truly is."

You frowned, Sarah is a sweet four-year-old little girl and you adore her just like how you adore Steve.

“They just don't know when to stop, huh? Always want to peek into other's privacy.”

Steve finish his last bite and lick his lips clean with his tongue. You blush when you noticed that action.

“Sarah may not be my biological daughter, but she's my family. And I would protect my little angel no matter what.” He look at you with his seductive azure blue eyes. And his whole body soften.

“Thank you for all you've done for us, doll. You help us a lot.”

You shake your head while you stands up to take his plate to the sink.

“It's not a big deal, Steve. I am gladly to support you and your little angel.”

You reminiscing those memories of you and Sarah with smile and proud.

"Taking care child is not hard but it's worthy. I love Sarah, she's a sweet little angel with no doubt."

You out the plate into the dryer and twitch on the machine. Then a pair of long hands around your waist, a broad, firm and warm chest against your back.

Steve's hot breathe winding down your earlobe, neck and your spine.

“Is this okay to you? Can I hug you for a while, doll?" His voice ring in your ears and cloud your mind, you found your hands put on his and nodded in silent. Your legs buckle and wobbly.

However, Roger's hell or heavenly tortures doesn't end. His right hand moves up to rest under your breast while his left hand presses your lower half and grind on it.

“S...Steve?” you squeaked

“I want to express my appreciation, doll. You give me another reason to go back from my missions and make me smile when I think about you.”

Steve started to kiss your shoulder, neck and your jaw. You couldn't hold back your whimpers.

“Please, give me a chance to thank you. To tell you how much glad and grateful for you stay here. Please, doll.”

You can't deny him, not when you had a crush on him, not when he ask you so desperately and needy. It's not the usual Steve Rogers would show to anyone.

“Okay...please wear condom...” your voice is weak, but he heard it clearly.

Steve grab your cheek, turn your face to him and give you a long and sloppy kiss.

“I promise you that you won't regret it, thank you for your trust, doll.”

He sinks down his knees and lifts up your skirt.

When he see your champagne color panty and the outline shape of your cunt, Steve growled before he presses his face against your cunt and inhales.

“oh fuck! This sweet pussy, so beautiful and it smells sweet. I can't believe I didn't have this for such long time.”

Your fingers claw the edge of the sink, you just bubbling his name as like prays.

Steve parts your legs, holds your back of thighs and start kissing your lower lips. He chuckles when your hips jolt and your thighs want to close instinctively.

“That's it! Trap my head between your legs, doll. This is where I belong too..agh...your pussy throbbing, doll. Do you like this when I lick your pussy?”

“Please, Steve...please...”

“Such a needy girl.” Steve moved his one hand to the waist band of your panty and thread it to pieces. Your gulped turn to moaning when Steve kiss your nerve bundles and use his tongue swirled it beforee he sucks.

You cry out and push your body to him, grind on his face.

“Oh yes...Steve please...so good...ahh...”

Steve keeps lapping your pussy like a greedy man. His tongue spear into you and strokes your walls lazily but enough to make you scream and boneless.

Thr warm spreading under your stomach and the ecstasy feeling of Steve's sinful mouth, his warm and large hands. The same ones saves the Eartha and cradles his daughter.

That thought makes you wetter.

You mewled when he pokes two fingers in and out with a steady pace.

“Is this okay, doll? Need to slow down?”

“No..keep going please.”

Steve licks a sloppy and long stripe through your swollen puffy lips and sucks your small bundle again.

Your body started shaking and you can't hold back your sobbing.

He sense your walls squeeze his fingers tighter and your heartbeats faster.

“Cum for me, doll. Let me drink the best liquid in this world.” You cover your hand over your mouth when you reach your climax. Your muffle scream mix with Steve's grunts

“Fuck, that's it. You did so good doll.”

He devours last drop from you and laps you clean before he release your hips and stands up. His beard is glisten by your juice.

Your body limps, your head rest against the cabinet and panting for your breath. You definitely fucked out. Steve's tongue click on his teeth. He bend down to pick you up in bridal style.

“Steve...?”

“No, not yet. Now it's my time to take care of my other angel.”

He lays you down on his queen size beds.

“ take all your clothes off and on your four, doll. I am just began.”

You follow his order and higher your ass up, you turn your headd back to catch the glimpse of his fitness body. His chest, his waist, his abs, his thighs and the beast rest between his legs...

Your mouth watering of the lustful scenes.

“Look at what you did to me, doll.” He kneels his one leg on the mattress so you can see his harden cock more clear.

The beautiful mushroom head is full with his pre-cum. The veins and the two heavy balls all rails your body up, you want to have them...

You clench your legs together and wiggle them slightly. That earns you a spank without hurt you.

“Present for me, doll. Let me know you want my cock and you're desperately need it.”

“Steve...please...want you...want you inside me.”

He hums while he rubs himself against your entrance after he wears the condom. Your walls and lips throbbing for devouring him inside.

“After tonight, you won't just be my babysitter. You'd be mine and I'd ruin this sweet pussy for other men.”

He slams into you when you're still thinking about his words. You both moans as the addictive feeling thrill down your spines.

“Yeah...oh god...you better believe that I won't let this pussy go and wet another dick. You're my sweet angel, you don't know i have to use all my brains to control myself to not pounce on you when I stay with you everytime.”

You mewling his name and he interlace your hands. He lower his head to kiss the back of your ears, your neck and your back.

“Who would know the sweet neighbor girl when I just came out of ice would became my babysitter of my daughter. And oh god her sunshine smile, her beautiful face and her attractive body, radian in warms and glow. She's a goddess and I wish I could worship her every single day.”

His pace increased and he growled when he stroke your walls and they embrace him with warmth and smooth.

“I wish I could let her see me as a man worthy to love, not just a friendly neighborhood or her both or a superhero. I want to be her man, Steve Rogers.”

His words affect your body and sour your heart.

“I...I have a crush on you, Steve. I've had that for several years ago.” you couldn't hide your secret anymore, and your brain is too fogged to stop yourouth spilled the all beans out.

“Yeah? You have a crush on me? That's why you volunteered to take care of Sarah? Answer me doll.”

You nodded eagerly and gulped when his tip brushes against your g-spot. Steve slows down his speed but angles his hips so he can hit the place in every thrusts.

“I thought maybe I could closer to you, and I adore Sarah after we met. She's literally an little angel herself...And sometimes...sometimes I would think about the future if we had a kid...”

Steve cursed under his breath

“Shit! You can't just say that, doll. Our children...oh fuck...” your eyes widen when you feel him bigger.

“A daughter more like you, or a son who can help me protect our sweet angels. Or both of them...ummm I can imagine the swelled belly that make you the hottest mommy in the world.”

Your walls clench hard when you heard the 'mommy' word and he thinks you'd be the hottest mommy who carries his seeds

“I knew you'd agree with me, doll. My perfect girl amd little mama of my futire kids...But I know you want to take things slow, honey. We can have some dates first. I'd have some ideas for finishing my 40s fantasy about dates with you. I hope tou would love this.”

He whispered in your ears, you arch your neck back and roll your head to the side and kiss his cheek

“As long as I am woth you, the date is the best one.”

He locks his eyes with yours and kisses you deeply. His hips moves violently and give you last hard thrusts before he release into your warm pussy.

At the same time, your second orgasm hit you again.

Steve clasps on your and kisses your back and neck messy.

“Let me get you clean and drink some waters.”

You nod and rest your head on his pillow, your body radiant in his secure and intoxicated scents. Your eyes became heavy...

Steve backs with a wet clothes, his old shirt and a glass of water.

He help you drinks the water and clean the mess between your legs.

Steve hugs you from behind and kisses your temple.

“I love you, doll.”

“I love you, Steve.”

Today's one of the best night you've ever had.

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (11) - Heating pads and cupcakes

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Former!Boss!Steve Rogers x Former!Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader, Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Warnings: flirty CEvans characters, language, plus-sized/chubby reader, protective brothers, Lloyd being Lloyd, arguments, brothers being brothers, fluff, caring brother

A/N: I was on my period while writing this. So, I would like you to please bear with me.

The assistant masterlist

The assistant (10) - Apologies

“Tell me, sugar. How did you meet my brothers?” Ransom sits on one of the chairs at the kitchen counter to watch you, Jake and Mike make breakfast for the hungry pack.

“Do not talk to Y/N,” Jake warns. “I don’t know why Andy even called you. We can handle Captain Asshole on our own.”

“Captain Turd,” Lloyd corrects while walking inside the kitchen. “I think I established the name yesterday.” He grins at Steve who sits at the kitchen table. Steve sips the coffee from the café around the corner and tries to stomach the dry bagel he bought.

“Boys, play nice,” you tut and point the spatula at Lloyd. “We do not fight within these walls. Lloyd, that goes for you too. Have a seat. Coffee is ready and we are almost done preparing breakfast.”

“Uh-huh,” Lloyd plops down on the seat closest to you. “You’re wearing my apron.” He grins.

“Yeah, I figured that this must be yours,” you roll your eyes as he grins like a madman.

“Kiss the cook, he wears a mustache?” Ransom huffs and shakes his head. “That mustache looks stupid on you, Lloyd. Almost as if a caterpillar died on your upper lip.”

“Kiss my ass,” Lloyd snarls in Ransom’s direction.

“Eat shit!” Ransom retorts.

“Guys,” you clap your hands. “We have a busy day ahead. Thanks to the drama you caused yesterday, I agreed to let Captain Rogers stay another day. He didn’t get the chance to see anything but a bunch of idiots fighting each other.”

“Idiots?” Lloyd pouts. “I'm not an idiot. Andy started this. It’s not my fault my brother is an idiot.”

“Lloyd, we do not punch people, and we don’t call them idiots,” you tut. “I told you, no more fighting or I’ll hide your expensive mustache wax for a week. Your mustache will be all fuzzy without it.”

“Cupcake, did you steal my wax?” Lloyd gapes at you. “I didn’t take you for a thief, missy. You better not make it a habit.” He looks at you wearing his apron. “Or make it a habit. I like me a bad girl.”

“She’s got a very good lawyer on her side,” Andy casually walks inside the kitchen. He’s hiding the bruises his brother caused with a brand-new shirt and tie. “I will leave for a few hours. I trust you to not kill each other.”

Lloyd glares at his brother Ransom before he says, “I can’t promise anything. You brought this piece of shit into our house.”

“Lloyd!” He made it. You hand the spatula to Mike, asking him to watch the last pancake to round the kitchen island and slap Lloyd’s ass. He yelps but purrs your name. “No swear words at our home, Lloyd!”

“Our…home!” Jake, Mike, Lloyd, Ari, Andy, and Curtis who just walked inside the kitchen, stare at you in awe. They smile, and then, you end up wrapped in too many pairs of arms.

“GUYS! I can’t breathe!” You protest but it's no use. You get hugged again and again until you feel dizzy.

“Hey, what’s your role in this drama?” Ransom turns around to look at Steve while his brothers are all over you. “Damn, aren’t you Captain America?” He slides off his chair to get a better look at Steve sulk in a corner. “Wait…what is Captain America doing here?”

“They kidnapped my assistant,” Steve grumbles while watching you hug the brothers, one after another. They laugh and joke while exclaiming that you accepted their home as your own.

“Ah, I see,” Ransom nods thoughtfully. “So, you’re unwanted here too, huh?” He grins. “Hmmm…you know. My grandmother always bragged about being related to Captain America. She was a crazy old hag, but I cannot deny you are a spitting image of my grandfather.”

“What are you mumbling about over there?” Curtis didn’t forget about Ransom’s intrusion. He’s still up to give his brother a good beating. “I see, two assholes found each other during desperate times.”

You huff. “Curtis! No swear words! We talked about swear words and impulse control last night.”

“Sorry, Sunshine,” Curtis drops his gaze and sighs. If only he’d got a few minutes alone with Ransom. He’d give his treacherous brother a few more punches.

“I get that having your brother back is scary and opened old wounds. But, you should be happy to have him in your life,” you sniffle. “You don’t get a person you love back so easily.”

“Great, now you made her cry,” Andy wraps you in his arms and runs his hand up and down your back. “They’re stubborn but will behave from now on. I promise.”

“I’m only a little emotional,” you choke out a sob. “I’m on…” You shake your head. The brothers don’t need to know that you’re on your period and almost everything makes you cry. “I saw that cat video…and the cat was so cute and…then you argued... and Mike looked like the lost kitten…It made me so happy…”

“Crap,” Lloyd snaps his fingers to get his brothers' attention. “Alright! Red alert. I repeat. Red alert.”

“What now?” Curtis rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. “What’s wrong with you?”

Lloyd turns his head toward Curtis. “You, stop sulking and get my wallet.” Lloyd snaps at Curtis before pointing at Mike and Jake. “You two, search for any movie on any platform Y/N will like.”

He crosses his arms behind his back and marches around the kitchen. “Barber don’t get too cozy with her but keep on rubbing her back. Ari, you and Curtis will go to the bakery. We will close for the rest of the week. Get all the cupcakes and shit Jake baked. We’ll need it.”

“What’s going on?” Ransom watches his brothers hastily follow Lloyd’s order. “Where’s the fire?”

“In Y/N’s uterus. Now shut up, pretty boy, and be useful for once,” Lloyd mutters at his brother. “If you want to stay, you’ll go to the guestroom in the west wing and get me all the fluffy pillows and a warm blanket. No, make it two.”

Ransom purses his lips. He weighs his options. If he wants to be part of this family again, he must play along for now. “Fine.”

“Y/N. Cupcake,” Lloyd gently pats your hair. “What’s your favorite brand? Do you need a heating pad? What painkiller do you prefer? Lloyd will get you all you’ll need.”

Steve watches the brothers make of fuzz about your period. He rubs his chin, wondering if what he feels is more than worry.

“Good job everyone!”

Lloyd grins as you snuggle into one of the fluffy pillows. You’re wearing one of Andy’s warm sweaters and the fuzzy socks Jake got for you. Ari wrapped a warm blanket around you after Lloyd carefully put a heating pillow on your lower abdomen.

Mike chose the movies you and the brothers will watch while Andy and Jake prepared food, beverages, and sweets. Curtis is currently massaging your feet while Ransom sits on the other end of the huge U-shaped sofa.

“How do you feel,  Sweetie? Do you feel better?” Jake sits next to your head to gently pat your hair. Do you need anything else?”

“Did I buy the right stuff?” Lloyd asks. He sits on the sofa and stretches his legs out. “Damn, I didn’t know there are so many lady products out there.”

“I’m good,” you murmur and snuggle further into the pillow. The brothers took very good care of you. No one ever put so much into making you feel good. “See, if you work together, you can do anything.”

“So…this is what you do? Getting lady products and feeding a sexy girl with cupcakes,” Ransom grins. “I think I could get used to this…”

“No one asked you,” Curtis huffs. He’s still angry at Ransom for leaving them. Especially, because he used to look up Ransom when he was a kid. Curtis and Ransom shared a special bond, and now, it's broken.

“No more fighting tonight,” Andy stops the brothers from arguing again. “We have a plan, don’t we.” He subtly points at Steve watching you and the brothers from his seat. He chose to sit on an armchair, still not convinced that the brothers did not mean harm to you.

Ransom stares at Steve. He rubs his chin and wonders aloud. “Back to Captain America. Isn’t it odd that he looks so much like Grandfather Steven?”

Part 12

Tags in reblog.

[wotvagyok]

T hunger Steve has entered by brain again and I’m feeling more of a plot forming ah I may actually write something for once

My thoughts are currently consumed by Trans Steve starting T and getting all kinds of thicc because of it.

At first noticing the changes, how he’s filling out in all the right places, the little stretch marks on his new belt, on his arms, his thick love handles. It’s all dense and doughy, he’s so sturdy now, so chonky.

And then a couple of years in, a few self discoveries later, sat between Bucky’s thighs, so stuffed and bloated and round, Bucky’s hand in his skin-tight and torn boxers, pressing into him, holding another bite to his lips.

Steve’s lax, pressed against his chest, head lying limp against Bucky’s shoulder. His brain his empty, eyes glazed, as he opens his mouth to keep eating.

“Good boy.” Bucky whispers to him as he bucks his hips in desperation. “Gettin’ so fat,” a hand slides down to the blushing swell of his stomach, sitting in his lap now, and rubs soothing circles across the taut skin. He reaches for another few fries and holds them to Steve’s mouth when he finishes chewing. Steve takes a gasping bite. “Such a good, greedy boy.”

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

I hear you want to write but are having a hard time answering prompts. Don't feel obligated to answer this one either, this is free labor, you never have too!!!! But maybe it would help by giving you a free space. What's eating at you [pun intended hehe]?

Me and this anon be like:

You are so thoughtful, thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

And you know what has been eating at me 😂 for whatever reason, I have no idea what turned me onto this idea, or why I can't stop thinking about it but there is something about the idea of completely, entirely spoiled Bucky that's been heavy on my mind.

Unbeta'd stucky belly kink under the read more, complete with lots and lots of stuffing, weight gain, and teasing/fat-shaming, too.

I'm talking about silver-spoon, generationally wealthy Bucky. He never has known what it is to want, yanno? Everything he could ever dream of, he gets immediately. He's never had a job other than learning what fork to use during meal times and which to use during dessert.

He looks like Wakanda, Jesus Bucky in spirit.

His hair is lush and shiny but his is proper, high-society style. So, it's cropped short at the sides and marginally longer at the top, coiffed back into stylish, fluffy waves. His face is clean-shaven, not beared, but his skin still glows and his marble-carved bone structure has been filled out by good food and constant pampering. He's always in the latest fashion, too. He looks the part of his high-maintenance, rich lifestyle.

When he was a kid and then a teenager it was totally fine that he fit so, so well into his lavish upbringing - including his taste for excessively sweet food and excessive amounts of food - because he had a speedy metabolism and the whimsy of a child, always running through his parent's expansive mansion or spending hours in the endless, deep green lawns playing by himself or roping one of the servents or his tutor into his games. His parents always were too busy with their socializing to raise their own messy child, instead passing responsibility off to someone, anyone else.

For a while, Bucky also took an interest in polocrosse, so he stayed slim for his elegant, equestrian sport. Loping through open, well-manicured fields on horseback, going after the ball with his racquet. But, as he grows and matures into a snooty young adult, with his twenties comes a slowing of his hummingbird metabolism and a boredom of sport. He has more important, more luxurious, relaxing activities to attend to than riding some beast that he doesn't even pick up after or care for - that's what the help is for. Besides, the medals mean nothing to him. He knows he's deserving and is a blue-ribbon winner without the physical reminders. Naturally, it's in his genes, he may as well be a hot-blooded, thoroughbred himself.

Bucky's metabolism slows and his activity level wanes but neither can be said about his appetite - not slowing, nor waning.

His hunger was one of those wants he's always, always had met through his generational wealth. His dire want for sweets. When he was younger, he always got a slap on the wrist for gorging himself on sugary sweets - pastries, candy, and the like - but never truly punished. His love affair wasn't tamed no matter how often he "spoiled" his own dinner, charming the cooks to feed him more than he needed, secretly getting their driver to go and retrieve him something from the city's candy shop, or even simply tiptoeing into the well-stocked pantry at night to give himself a tummy ache.

Now, his appetite is insatiable and he is growing more and more unfit seemingly like the hour. All because his days aren't spent working - he's never had to lift a finger for anything - but, instead, his hours are filled to the brim (and then some) with wine tastings, occasional tours of the winery grounds, cheese samplings, fine dining reservations or world-class chefs inhabiting his home for a few nights, and more. As soon as he's allowed by Mommy and Daddy, he moves off the sprawling family property to buy his own. He comes in and sweeps up a swath of land, putting a huge, pretty house on it and filling the rooms with staff. Most of the time, he doesn't leave his home. His driver's chauffeur experts in drink and food back and forth, bringing waves of delicious, expensive delicacies straight to Bucky's beautiful abode from the private airport nearby.

He. is. spoiled.

As he grows, he becomes rich fat, not poor fat - which becomes an important, prideful distinction in Bucky's spoiled, snobby mind. He is high society. He is well taken care of. So, of course, he's large.

Rich fat is fat that's undeniably plump and round with perfect curves. Rolls. Pale and smooth. No cellulite. No stretch marks. No blemishes. Just milky, pale swells of flesh that are soft but still firm and high. Something of a cherub straight from a masterful Renaissance painting.

His body tells the truth of his life - he doesn't lift a finger. He's practically a Roman Emperor, lounging on his side, draped in a sheet that barely fits over his bulging, excessive curves, fed the finest wine and offered peeled grapes that he lazily consumes until he's so full and drunk that he has to stop his servants by lifting a dainty hand, breathily moaning. No more. He can't take anymore now, he's so full that his fat, normally plush, soft belly has swelled to be as firm as a drum. But... give it an hour and he'll be snapping his fingers, rolled onto his back, under the weight of his belly, needing more. He won't even bother to get back up unless his servants help him, at that point, all he wants is more.

Always more.

Bucky becomes so insatiable with his life of luxury orbiting his round belly (rapidly transforming to be so large and spherical that it might be its own planet with a gravitational pull, keeping his hands to it at all times, unable to stop rubbing and touching his big body), that he hires someone new to live on his estate with him.

A masseuse.

Bucky becomes accustomed to eating until he feels fit to pop, stuffing down delicacies as if they're commonplace. Then, when he's so achingly tight, it's only natural to crave hands on his belly. He needs all the help digesting that he can get on a steady diet of peeled grapes, chocolate-coated strawberries, and other delicate fruits alongside the finest cheeses in paper-thin slices (but so many of those slices that he may as well have eaten the entire wheel by biting hunks off rudely) paired with jam and honey and bread and meats cured and prepared just so, plus bubbly champagne to wash it all down. That excessive diet leaves his tummy churning, groaning, and gassy. He has to stifle his burps behind one hand while the other works to soothe himself - it's instinctive, those rubbing motions.

Working? Aching? That just won't do. Bucky isn't dumb enough to expend energy when he doesn't have to. His private education afforded him better common sense. And he often goes to the spa, so he's familiar with massages. One plus one is two. Bucky needs a masseuse to rub his belly.

His masseuse is a tall, broad man - muscular and handsome with bright blue eyes and blonde hair. He has a pleasantly pale complexion with freckles but his nose that like it's been broken once or twice, bumped in the middle, and his hands are certainly the hands of a working man. He has obviously worked hard to get where he is with veins obvious in his arms and the backs of his hands and callouses on his palms. Even with all the lotion and oils, his hands are just the slightest bit rough thanks to those callouses.

If he weren't so handsome and hadn't proved himself to be so good at his job, Bucky might not keep him around. Thoughtlessly he could fire him, or any of his staff, and hire someone else.

Bucky doesn't like anything rough. He likes simple, easy, and luxurious. He likes softness. He reclines in overstuffed chairs and couches, expensive and sink-into-the-softness, and sleeps (and eats) on a perfectly swallowing-up bed. His body is currently being transformed into the same type of sensation - plush, soft, overstuffed. He likes that. He's becoming as excessive as his lifestyle - shaped perfectly for it.

He doesn't enjoy roughness.

He doesn't enjoy the bit of resentment on his masseuse's face and weaved secretly into his voice when they first meet.

Steve is a good worker, though, and Bucky appreciates that. He's accustomed to throwing money around, but he only throws it when it's what he wants or something he needs that he's having done his way. If a gardener, cook, or tailor doesn't work as fast or as hard as Bucky thinks they ought to - they're gone. Simple as that.

Steve works hard, Steve works fast, Steve is... interesting. He doesn't approve of Bucky's lifestyle, that much is clear, so he must need the money. But also, he doesn't complain. Not really. He does tease Bucky, though. It seems they both know their differences and there's something there. Something exciting. They both have their tastes and the clash of their differing tastes becomes electric.

Bucky learns to enjoy a little bit of roughness because of Steve.

Steve is called in to support Bucky either nearing the end of a massive meal or after his meal has been finished. His job title is "masseuse" and he does massage Bucky but, just, one part of him -

His belly.

His job is to aid Bucky's body in digesting after a splurge... if you can call his gorging meals and oversized snacks that happen every day, multiple times a day like clockwork "splurges." Splurging implies you don't do it all the time. Bucky is consistently stuffed to the gills. The only time he's not full is when he wakes up, first thing in the morning, and that's not always a guarantee - Bucky has gotten especially fat recently, it's why he needs Steve, and now, he can't always make it through the night without a snack. If he needs one, he snaps his fingers or rings the little bell he keeps by his bedside, rousing his live-in servants and making them retrieve a "light" snack for him from the kitchen. If he's had a midnight snack, his belly might still be firm and bloated when he wakes up. Regardless, Steve helps settle his belly.

At first, when Steve was hired, he did his job without comment. Now that they know each other a little better and each of them is rubbing off on the other with Bucky enjoying a little bit of roughness and Steve learning to embrace comfort and a taste of luxury - now, Steve prods and pushes verbally while he does the same physically. He rubs big circles on his big tummy, presses into the parts where he's the tightest to release pockets of gas and make him more comfortable, giving him more room (that he often immediately fills with more food), and kneads his soft flesh, using lotion and oil to keep his flesh supple and stretch-mark free. He lets his mouth run, too.

In low tones, just for the two of them to hear, he murmurs roughly about how he's never had so much to work with. Bucky knows under those sugar-coated words, he's calling him fat. Then, he goes on to say that Bucky feels especially tense today, is there anything particular on his mind? That's Steve telling him he's bloated as fuck, just a bit of sting behind his "polite" tone to communicate, oh my fucking god, you're a blimp. Or, he asks how his tailor is doing, the vague way to ask how he fits into any clothes at all. It's a damn mystery to Steve, after all, he only ever sees Bucky when he's naked with all of his soft, pale, thick fat on display. Round. Firm. Ready to be massaged until he's not so tight he could burst which, to Bucky, means he's ravenous. Bucky has no understanding of hunger. He doesn't remember what it's like to be empty, so when he isn't gasping in pleasure and pain, so full that his stomach is strained and there's food packed into him all the way up his esophagus to the back of his throat, he thinks he's starving.

Bucky savors those comments in a way he doesn't savor food - he just shoves it down. More.

More.

Bucky starts eating even more, pushing himself further, to make sure he can see Steve regularly. Weirdly, for someone who's never needed a damn thing from anyone else, he aches to impress this guy. It's strange, how much he wants to preen and parade around. He makes even more of a gluttonous mess of himself just so Steve can come in and berate him underneath his professional, light tone. It's embarrassing. Bucky has never been able to deal with humiliation or shame or anything other than resounding acceptance because of his high status, so it's strange for him to go after it now but...

God, is it good.

Steve commenting on needing another set of hands to reach and work on all of Bucky's glutted tummy sends a shiver down his pinned spine in spirit, in reality, he can't fucking move. He's so fat. Bucky almost moans at the thought of more hands groping and kneading his fat, working his cramps and burps out of him, easing the way for those calories to smoothly transform into more fat but, strangely, he only wants Steve to do this. He's used to hiring more help, having so many people around him, watching and aiding him in even the most intimate, private moments. This feels too intimate to share, though. He just wants Steve's big, strong, rough hands on his fat. He wants it bad. So, of course, he gets it.

He feasts on multiple rich, large courses. Steve massages him. He snacks on foods that would be enough for a meal if he were anyone else. Steve massages him. He gorges until he's hiccuping, whining, and curled around his fat belly like he can hold himself together, preventing himself from bursting at the seams with too much, too good of food. Steve massages him. He wakes up, belly gurgling with digestion that he can delude into being hunger, so he stuffs himself late at night into early morning. Steve massages him. Steve massages him through it all, witnessing him at his fullest and watching, judging, as he packs on more and more weight.

Bucky has been drilled to follow etiquette and be polite, but with Steve, he slips. He's just so full. And Steve's so good at his job. He can't deny himself the pleasure of moaning and burping loudly as Steve works.

"Buuuurpp-"

"Hic! Ah! Oh! Hic! Ouch! Hic! Hup! Oww!"

"Ooooohhh, yess. That's good."

"Uuuuuuurp!"

"Yes! Right there, press there, it's so tight, oh, oww-"

"Hnnnn-"

"M-mmmph- more. More pressure. Yes! Like that! Oh-uuurp!"

"C-cahhh, careful, I'm, oof, I'm soo full. Mmngh, I might - hic! - pop!"

Steve might disguise his interest well under a judgy, almost resentful exterior - which is truthfully how he felt when he got here, like, look at this fat asshole, Steve grew up struggling with a single mother making tough decisions between feeding her child, buying the medicine her child needed badly, or keeping the heating on to keep her child from getting sicker, no good options and no compromises - but he is interested. Bucky is miles and miles of plush flesh that jiggles and ripples. So much for Steve to sink his hands into. He's just fat. That's all he is. Greedy and oversized. He deserves a little shit for it. It's fine. He can squeeze a little harder than necessary, he can relentlessly push down on the part of his tummy that hurts the most just to hear him groan through a painful yet releasing burp, he can see his face pinch in pain when Steve goads him into finishing the last scraps on his plate despite having called Steve in expressed because he's too full for more, he can make comments about how he's getting fatter, bigger, and more spoiled. He can snidely inquire if Bucky has gotten his bed reinforced yet or wonder out loud how his personal tailor keeps up with his expanding waistline, actually, how does his tailor measure his waistline these days? Does he have to make a custom tailors tape or have they given up on numbers by now? He can pretend to be a little weaker than he is, just for an excuse to call the other staff into Bucky's master bedroom, "needing" help with rolling his big, voluptuous body or sitting him up as much as possible under that heavy, fat belly that overflows his lap.

It's fine for Steve to look over his shoulder as he leaves, his job well done, to smirk like a shark at one food-drunk Bucky moaning through a bite of buttery, flaky pastry, telling him off, "haven't you had enough, Mr. Barnes?"

He's the only one willing to challenge Bucky. The other staffers suck in shocked breaths and duck their heads, embarrassed and trying to stay out of the way, assuming Steve's about to be fired. It's going to get ugly. Right?

But it doesn't.

Bucky likes it. His stomach is groaning - only barely soothed thanks to Steve, complaining with heavy sloshes, deep gurgles, and loud glorps - but Bucky doesn't care. All he cares about is more. More food, stuffing his gob. More of Steve's merciless touch, his mean words, and his judgemental eyebrows. More.

"Nu-uh," Bucky moans petulantly.

"Only you would think that," Steve's eyes flick down to his gut like the big, round thing is offensive, "isn't enough."

Bucky crams the rest of his pastry into his mouth, puffing out his cheeks and dusting crumbs down his double (closer to triple) chins and heaving moobs, it's a challenge.

Steve rises to it, stepping back into his bedroom to slap his blubbery belly hard.

Even though all the others have scuffled away, leaving the two of them alone, they must be able to hear the clap of his hand against his fat. That, or, they hear the guttural way Bucky moans. His white, pale flesh is stamped red with Steve's handprint.

"You just have to ruin my work, don't you?" Steve sneers, sitting on the side of the bed next to Bucky's immobilized form of rolls and curves, pinned in place by too much fattening, sugary food. "Nothing is ever good enough for you, so you just keep going, don't you? You're gonna pop, you know that, you fat, spoiled brat? You need to learn you have limits. You need to learn restraint. If you don't learn your lesson by yourself, you'll force my hand to teach it." Steve threatens, his hand raised again, on the cusp of slapping his tender, overstuffed tummy again.

Bucky whimpers, pouting at him, his bottom lip crumby and stuck far out, "don't need your help," he argues, mumbling, just to be contrary. He really does need him. He wants him too. So badly.

"You do, princess. You need me whether you like it or not," Steve teases. "You can't do anything by yourself, not with this-" Steve rears back to slap his belly hard a handful of times until Bucky's whimpering and squirming around like a turtle flipped onto its shell, inelegant and stuck "-in the way."

Bucky moans loudly. It hurts! But it hurts like it does when he pushes himself over his limits, his gut too full.

"I'm gonna put you on a diet," Steve threatens, "teach your spoiled, fat ass what restraint and hard work is the way Daddy and Mommy didn't, they just shoved a silver spoon in your mouth and called it a day 'cause you shut up."

It's terrible. It's awful. Bucky likes it.

"Please-!" The word falls out of Bucky's mouth for maybe the first time. He's Bucky Barnes. He doesn't beg. He has everything he wants and more! He's never had anything he had to plead for, he always just demands.

With one last hit right to the top of his belly, where the bulging is the worst, where he gets the tightest, Steve knows all too well, Steve leans in. His smile is all teeth. "Good boy," he rumbles, "that's a start. I might be able to whip you into shape after all, God knows you need some shape, too," he unkindly grabs a handful of fat, shaking it and thus sends jiggling ripples throughout Bucky's entire, fat body. He's all lard. "'Cause right now you're just a blob."

Bucky says it again, as it turns out, it feels good to say, "pleeease."

Steve gives him a dark look and despite what he was saying about shaping up and slimming down with a diet, he wastes no time reaching over to the tray of fine French pastries perched on Bucky's elegant nightstand, selecting one at random and shoving it into his face.

Bucky moans his way through every chew and swallow. With Steve's relentless force, massaging and now feeding, too, he's due for a growth spurt like he's never seen on his own. He's gonna outgrow his king-size bed in no time 🥵🥵