Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader (College!AU) Summary: A new academic year but a story thats nothin… | Ayleen's Pins


Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader (College!AU) Summary: A new academic year but a story thats nothin…

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader (College!AU) Summary: A new academic year but a story thats nothing new. Hes studious and she likes to party. He hates her and she despises him. Hes a virgin and shes his first. Warnings: alcohol, angst, language, smut (dirty talk, masturbation, mirror sex, rough sex, semi-public, vaginal sex) A/N: Hello, loves. I am absolutely blown away by your response to this story. Honestly, I cant thank you enough. It makes me so immeasurably happy knowing you enjoy my writing. Thank you. A quick reminder that the tag list for this story is closed. If you are under 18 you should not be reading this. Quiet yawns mingle with the whisper of pages. Hoods pulled down low. Arabica coffee wafts through the shelves. Most seats cold and untouched. Tired eyes awash with a haze that only students know. Only a handful who seem to be refreshed and alert. Bucky Barnes amongst them. Laptop open and a half-finished report that sits accusingly behind an internet tab. A form of self-torture perhaps. He hunches his shoulders, eyes dancing but his corner of the library is undisturbed as always. Facebook. Photographic evidence of a party he wouldnt be caught dead at. Or invited to, either. Bucky scoffs with every scroll. The discovery of the Huji Cam app and suddenly the popular kids think theyre cool. And yet, perhaps the only one who actually has any claim on the title is you. Bucky stops at a photograph of you. Messy drunks in the background, you take centre stage. A sultry look in your eyes and a red cup in your hand, the straw perched seductively between your lips. You look pretty. Sexy. Your eyes bore into him and he feels a stab of heat. Strange, though, its more to do with how close Brock Rumlow stands to you, his fingers barely brushing your ass. Three days. Its been three days since that fateful afternoon. Three days since Bucky lost his virginity to you. His emotions run wild. An inharmonious symphony of anger, pride, primal masculinity and indifference. A dirty secret is what it feels like. Hes held back on telling Steve because he cant, he wont admit that the first girl he was ever with was you. “You keep telling me you dont have a crush on her anymore, but I have to tell you, Buck, Im not sure I believe you.” Steve looms over him, peering at the laptop to see what has Bucky so enamoured. A scowl, mostly because Steve whistles lowly. He shrugs. Just because Bucky hates you, it doesnt mean he cant admit youre pretty. And judging by the blush on Buckys face, he thinks so, too. A well-aimed elbow that has the blonde wincing, before he, too, plops down in a chair to start on an essay. Concentration and focus that seem to escape Bucky. A page in a book he rereads a dozen times before accepting defeat. Every thought consumed by you and its maddening. Its as if that one encounter with you has altered his life entirely. He wonders if its the same for you. The voice in his head laughs. As if you would give him a second thought. An inexperienced little boy who is nowhere near as muscled as Rumlow or even toned like your friend Pietro. He prickles at the prospect of being with a girl, certain that she too, would be less than impressed. Steve shatters the bubble, rubbing his stomach and complaining of hunger. An eagerness to not be left alone with his thoughts, he agrees readily. Shrill screams fly through the air. Hearty laughs. Bucky freezes in his tracks, rooted to the library steps. Pietro Maximoff, he steams ahead with only a glance over his shoulder at his friends that trail behind. Wanda yells for them to wait, bright red in the face and struggling to remain upright. Sams a little sweaty, but still going strong, even with you on his back. That stab of heat again, as he notices Sams hands wrapped around your bare thighs and your arms looped around his neck. Your stomach, exposed because you wear a sports bra, flush on Sams back. You bounce to your feet when Sam stops beneath a large tree, leaning against it to catch his breath. Wanda all but collapses at your feet. Her brother, he limbers up. A show off, he earns himself a punch on the shoulder. You glance up, catching sight of Bucky. His gaze trained to you from where he stands on the library steps. Lip caught between his teeth and brows furrowed. He tugs at his grey hoodie where it clings to his soft tummy. Determination etched on his face, he says something to his companion, Steve Rogers. Its instinctive, your hands finding your hips. An almost intimidating stance, even Wanda sits up as the two approach. Solemn greetings met with equally sombre acknowledgements. “I need to talk to you,” blurts Bucky. “Bout the project.” “What about it?” you ask suspiciously. Bucky shifts his feet, floundering for an excuse before gritting out a request to speak to you in private. A roll of your eyes, you grab his wrist and lead him far enough from your friends to put him at ease. A concealed smile because you note how Sam strikes up conversation with Steve. Bucky does mention the project. He laments that you barely did anything last time. How he refuses to fall behind. You cut him off with a sigh, muttering how hes learned nothing after the last time he accused you of not caring about your education. And then he blushes, and its quite sweet. All you did was ask what he really wanted to talk to you about. His bright blue eyes flicker over your sweat slicked skin, following the trail of a droplet that disappears beneath your sports bra. You can only imagine what hes thinking and it has you smirking something dirty. “I dont know how to have sex.” blurts Bucky in one breath. “What?” you blink, completely bewildered. “I- dont make me say it again.” he growls dangerously, face engulfed in flames. “Barnes- “ “I wanna know how to make a girl feel good, alright?” he explains, spitting the words out rather forcefully. “Teach me.” “You want me to teach you how to have sex?” you ask for confirmation that youve heard him correctly. “Forget it- “ “Whats in it for me?” you tease and he fixes you with a murderous stare. “You fuckin serious?” he hisses. “What, you- the satisfaction, alright?” You hum musically, a smug smirk on your lips as you hold out your hand and ask for a pen. Bucky jerks his head, confusion clouds his eyes but he obliges. You pull the cap off with your teeth, pushing the sleeve of his hoodie up to write your number on his arm. Hes seemingly surprised, perhaps its because you accept his offer with little counter. But, you meant what you said about the allure of being his first. And being the one to teach him to pleasure a woman? Oh, that sounds like a lot of fun. Later that night finds you in the Students Union with your friends. A game of pool that naturally, Sam is winning. A couple of beers in. Onlookers desperate to take part. The buzz of your phone. A text from an unknown number. Wanda notes your smirk, nudges you under the impression that its Brock Rumlow. You dont correct her. Bucky: Hey, its me. Bucky: Let me know when youre free this week. You: Depends on whos asking… Bucky: Its Bucky. You: Who the hell is Bucky? Bucky: Youre a bitch. You: Is that any way to talk a girl into bed? You: First lesson, Barnes. The art of seduction. Bucky stares at his screen with bewilderment. Completely unsure of what your message means. Are you going to seduce him? Do you want him to seduce you? By the time Thursday rolls around, a scowl adorns his face because God, girls are so confusing. Steve flashes him a knowing grin. Clint unapologetically tells him he ate the last oreo. Natasha wishes him luck, promising to scratch out your eyeballs if you act like a bigger pain in the ass than you already are. Bucky ducks his head to hide his blush, muttering about how hell probably be a while. “Hey, Barnes.” “Uh, hey.” Bucky glares at your smirk, mind racing and hes barely past the front door. Even in the comfort of your own home, you look so pretty. A pair of tiny, blush coloured satin shorts. An almost sheer white t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder. Not so much as a scrap of make-up but its not as if you need it. Hes ogling you, rather unsubtly. Rolls his eyes when you smirk wider. Bucky glances at your ass as he follows you. Of course you live in a nicer dorm. Your halls are right in the centre of campus, brand new and brilliant white. You share an apartment with your three friends. Only Wanda home apparently, she smiles as she puts the kettle on, offering him a cup of tea. He blinks and she laughs. “Im not trying to poison you,” she promises, holding up a box of jasmine tea. “We might not be friends but that doesnt mean I cant be nice.” “Uh, sure. Thanks.” Wanda waggles her fingers as she leaves for the library, her own tea in a floral flask. Bucky wonders if she knows. He means to ask, but you slide neatly into the chair beside him and hes startled by how close you sit. The smell of your hair drifts over him, a shiver races down his spine. A huff of frustration, more at himself than you as he tries to decipher if this is what you meant by the art of seduction. Your smile gives nothing away. The mere suggestion you should start on the project. Full of suspicions he brushes aside in favour of what seems to be a momentary truce. A pleasantness, one thats most unexpected. Theres a few playful jibes strewn in here and there, but you accompany each one with a sweet, giggly smile. A smile flickers on Buckys face when you cite that he makes a very valid point about to format the work. It fills him with pride, such a simple compliment that makes him feel smart. And yet, his concentration dips every so often. Heat prickles at his skin and he can he feel himself blushing all over. Your bare thigh pressed to his denim clad one. Your naked shoulder you keep running a finger over. Your foot briefly wrapped around his ankle. Your hand over his when you take the pencil from him. Hes drawn to your bottom lip, carefully tugged between your teeth and hes overcome with the urge capture your mouth with his. Bucky clears his throat. “So, uh, when do we start… you know.” “Your lesson? Oh, we started the second you walked through that door.” Bucky blinks at you. The return of that innocent schoolboy expression that you have a growing fondness for. Its sweet, the way he colours pink as you take his hand in yours, drawing lazy circles on his palm. He licks his lips as you tilt your head. You giggle, and he thinks its part of your seduction but truthfully, its at his naivety. “Barnes, you cant just expect a girl to jump into bed with you,” you say, lowering your voice just so. “You have to make her want to be there.” Bucky visibly gulps, lashes fluttering. You shift closer, brushing your breasts against his arm. Heat blooms in your belly. Arousal rages in your eyes just as it does in his. “A girl wants to feel special,” you continue, leaning in far enough for his breath to hitch. “She wants to feel as if shes the only one you have eyes for.” “H-how do I do that?” he eases out in a voice gruff with want. “Flirt with her,” you giggle, raking a hand through his hair. “Subtly. Let her see how badly you want her.” You can feel the heat radiating from Bucky. See the erection that tents his jeans when you run a finger down his soft middle. He trembles beneath your touch as desire clouds your judgement, desperate to take control. “A girl wants to see it in your eyes,” you whisper, nose ghosting along his jawline. “A promise that youll worship her.” Theres a quiet groan that catches in Buckys throat and you almost whimper at how much it turns you on. His breath fans your cheek. Lips invitingly parted and all but begging for yours. But, still, you tease him, letting the tension between you mount. “She wants to feel it in your touch when you put your hand on her lower back,” your own voice is low with need as you tilt your face. “Fingers close to her ass.” Your lips are mere milimetres apart now. Buckys breath ragged and his eyes dark with desire, the pupils blown so wide theres barely any blue left. And you, youre wet. Panties damp with how you crave him. Its as much a seduction for you as it for him. Trapping poor, innocent Bucky in your little web. “She wants to feel it in your kiss. She wants to know youre going to pleasure her in ways shes only dreamed of.” Its electric. The energy between you. Nothing but the sound of each others breath and hearts pounding. Your walls pulse around nothing. Clit thrums. Every ounce of self-control to keep yourself from dragging him to your bed. A wanton mess hidden behind a cool exterior. “Do you think you could do that, Barnes? Pleasure me like Ive only dreamed?” “Yes,” he gruffs out, unable to tear his gaze away from you. “God, yes.” Your eyes flicker down to Buckys lips. Wet and pink. You can still remember how soft they are. A quiet giggle escapes you, a look of outrage flooding his eyes. “Where the hell are you goin?” he snarls, as you rise to your feet. “You- what the fuck?” You sneer, cupping his jaw and tilting his face up to yours. “Tonight. Meet me at Saints,” you order, gaze raking over every feature of his face. “Youre going to pretend you dont who I am. And Im going to pretend I dont know who you are. You want to fuck me? Seduce me first. Thats your lesson.” Bucky rages and rants as he all too furiously shoves his textbooks into his backpack. Your own chest rises and falls with laboured breath and you retreat to your room. Back to the door and impossibly turned on, his rough voice filters through and its so wrong. Youll hate yourself for it but youre helpless but to slide your fingers past the waistband of your shorts. Youre so wet, so aroused you can barely think straight. A whimper falls past your lips, one you hope he doesnt hear and at the same time, you cant bring yourself to care. Youre desperate for release, chasing bliss as you circle your clit. Pretending its Buckys fingers as you tremble when you come. Head spinning, nothing to do with your tequila and everything to do with Bucky. A small sip, letting the alcohol drop past your lips. Pacing yourself because its all you can do to not let yourself be caught up in the whirlwind of your afternoon. Youve been here a little over ten minutes. A glance around you and though there are plenty of eyes that watch you. Not the ones you wait for. The dim light of Saints earns itself a title of being the perfect bar for Bucky to practice flirting. Theres little chance of being seen on a Thursday night. Packed as always, but more so with locals than students. Music booms, bottles upon bottles lit up by lurid green neons. Shoulders brush, and then theres a familiar voice. “Excuse me, can I buy you a drink?” Bucky. Voice strained as he stands beside you. Barely audible above the din of whatever electro playlist the bartender has opted for. Shoulders rolled back, a nervous smile plastered between a light smattering of stubble. Its too jarring. He holds himself too upright, his arms too stiff over his tummy. A part of you wants to reassure him, remind him youve seen his fluffy middle. You dont. Buckys not asked you to help him with his insecurities. Hes asked you to teach him how to have sex. You straighten your shoulders. The ice cool front that is your custom. Perhaps this lesson is going to be tougher than you anticipated. “I already have one.” You reply boredly, your half finished tequila held aloft. “Right,” nods Bucky, evidently caught between annoyance and nausea. “Ill just leave you to it then.” Your bark of laughter is hardly audible over the music. Not caring enough to watch him weave through the crowd. Truth be told, you expected more vivacity. Hes all too easily walked away with his tail tucked between his legs. A shake of your head and you sip at your tequila. Music washes over you once more. The warmth of the beer scented air settling on your skin. And even though youve had little to drink, your brain is foggy enough to contemplate going home with the handsome man in the far corner. No sooner do you drain your glass is a fresh one placed down. You raise an eyebrow at the bartender and its with an amused grin he tells you its from the guy at the opposite of the bar. Stunned, you glance up and meet the sparkling eyes of Bucky. A grin, crooked and charming. It has arousal jolting down your spine but youre too good at your own game to let it show. Instead you cock an eyebrow. Glance down at your drink, only a little impressed that hes ordered you exactly what you like. And then your eyes drift back to him, darting to the empty stool beside you. “I told you I already had a drink.” you offer teasingly when he approaches. “You did,” he grins toothily. “But you didnt have a drink with me.” “Is that what this is?” “What can I say? I needed an excuse to talk to you,” he says, and even though his voice is dangerously low you hear him loud and clear. “A beautiful girl like you drinking alone? Youre waitin for someone.” “And I suppose thats you, is it?” you taunt a little mercilessly. “I sure hope so.” he chuckles, head tilted to one side. “You seem confident about it.” “Yeah?” he breathes. “Thank God, cause youre real pretty and Im just trying not to make a fool of myself.” And just like that, a small sliver of truth thats annoyingly charming to you. A moment of sweetness amongst the sex. Theres a twinkle in his blue eyes and a genuinity to his lopsided smile. And you giggle. A giggle you cant hold back and Bucky grins wider, his expression one of relief before it darkens into something more devious. A flutter low in your core. One that grows stronger with each passing minute. A hot bar. A telltale flush on Buckys face. An array of empty glasses between you both. Lines blurred even if you dont know it yet. Desire tickles all over. Whole body burning up whenever his eyes roam over you. A game of push and pull. A battle of dominance. Every flirtatious remark he makes equally met with an outrageously coy one from you. A hand on his arm that has him biting his lip sinfully. Lashes twitching when you stroke his ankle with your foot. A slight dip forward and he none too subtly glances down your dress. A clenched jaw and you know you have him right where you want him. Buckys patience slowly grows thin. Heat stabs at his spine, pools in his stomach, blackens his thoughts. Cock twitching in his pants every time you ghost your fingers over him. Urgency grows, frustration spiking to an unbearable level. An aggravating blend of desire and frustration at how you tease him unforgivingly. The sultry look in your eyes. The low neckline of your dress. The fingers drawing circles on his thigh. A primal need to take you there and then. Yet, amidst the sheer agony of hot, needy want, theres a glimmer of pride. Bucky isnt blind to the men who ogle you. He growls at their vulgar appreciation but more than anything, he feels an overwhelming sense of satisfaction. A rare chance when his ego is stroked. Tonight, hes just another guy at the bar talking to a gorgeous girl. Tonight, hes not the guy missing his ex-girlfriend. Tonight, youre eyeing him like you could swallow him whole, soft tummy that strains his plaid shirt and all. Hed let you. He wants you to. Perhaps its the tequila, perhaps its how hard he grows in his jeans. The air thickens until hes suffocating with raw, animalistic desire. Your eyes, Bucky notices theyve darkened. The past few minutes spent in ravishing silence and then he gasps lewdly. Jaw slack as your fingers wrap around his wrist and he stumbles after you, the stranger facade evaporating as you all but shove him into the dingy bathroom and lock the door. The stench of piss and spilled beer. Neither of which dissuade you from pushing Bucky up against the door and crashing your lips on his. Remnants of tequila and salt. A distinct taste of him. A kiss thats furious and sloppy, lips slanting and open mouthed as your fingers scrabble at the fastening of his jeans. “H-here?” Bucky chokes out against your lips. “Oh, Im sorry,” you sneer, yanking his jeans down. “Did you want a bed covered in rose petals?” “Fuck you.” he growls, fingers digging into your hips punishingly. “If you shut up you just might,” you huff back. “Do you have a condom?” Bucky blinks. Jaw dropping as you pull your panties off neatly. Hitch your dress up around your waist. A roll of your eyes. Tension unbearable and you cant wait a moment longer. A repeat of your question and he scowls, retrieving one from his wallet. A distasteful joke about how prepared he is for someone whos worried about getting laid. You gasp when he whirls you around, your hands grip the sink to steady yourself as he looms behind you, eyes meeting in the scuffed mirror. Theres no measured ease. No sentiment. No gentility. Bucky all but slams into you, the delicious sting of his thick cock stretching you bordering on the right side of pain. His breath, hot and heavy on your neck. Fingers curled tight over your hips. Every thrust feral, hes too consumed in chasing release. His rounded tummy drags over your ass in your half-bent position. His cock buried deeper than you thought possible. Youre scorching, completely under his control. Mindless gasps tumbling from your parted lips as you silently beg for more. Its filthy and utterly debauched. Bucky catches sight of you in the mirror, sees how wrecked you looked with your hooded eyes and glistening skin. Your pebbled nipples visible through the thin material of your dress. Your moans fuelling the white hot flames that lick at him. And he chuckles breathlessly. That desire to bite your lip overcomes him again. He tugs down a strap of your dress, groaning at how your breasts threaten to spill. A harsh nip at your shoulder, your neck, growling at the whimpers that fill his ears. “Dont you dare leave a mark, Barnes.” you warn, teeth gritted as you rock your hips back to meet his. “What?” he chuckles evilly. “Precious little princess doesnt want everyone to know whos been fucking her?” Theres a small huff of frustration, quickly drowned out when he scrapes his teeth under your ear. The mirror jolts, your palm forcefully flattened against it and you reach back with the other, fisting your fingers in Buckys hair and pulling hard enough to make him grunt. “Youre an asshole, Barnes!” “Jokes on you princess, fuck, that got me real hard.” You take it as an invitation to yank harder, hard enough to hurt and Bucky yelps. A string of coarse curses and he retaliates, pressing you so tight against the sink the porcelain grinds against your clit almost painfully. Rough and bruising, but you care little when youre on the edge. Every slam of his cock driving you closer and closer to oblivion. You tremble, orgasm threatening to ravish you and Bucky looks gone, too. He fucks you in shallow, hard thrusts and then pulls out, spanking you just as he slides back in and you snap. Mouth open in a silent scream as you clench around his cock. Legs shaky as your toes curl in your high heels. A burst of sparks behind your closed eyes and the sweet release youve been aching for courses through you. Undeniably, the hottest thing Buckys ever witnessed. He loathes how good you feel. Your tight heat squeezing his cock. An earth shattering orgasm hes wrenched from you. A swell of pride that tips him over the edge. A hoarse cry muffled when he buries his face in the crook of your neck, losing himself in his own release. How much time has passed, Buckys unsure. Your slight writhe as you pull yourself free, it brings him back to reality. Words slurred but he makes little sense of what he says. A silence that hangs heavily as you both clean yourselves. The faint trace of a purple bruise blossoms on your neck. Hes pleased with himself, even if you shoot him daggers. And then he gulps, ever the blushing schoolboy when you step close enough for your breasts to press flush against his chest. His tummy soft against yours. The ghost of your lips over his neck and he shivers. “Seduction doesnt end there, Barnes,” you whisper in a voice that makes his cock twitch with renewed interest. “You have to make sure a girl never forgets you.” Bucky gasps, head lolling back when you nip at his neck, tongue soothing over the sting. A waft of your perfume and then youre gone, leaving him to scowl at the all noticeable mark youve left on him. A sea of knowing stares, smug smiles and disappointed glares meet him. He pays them little attention, too busy in seeking you out to swagger around as the guy, the unassuming, chubby guy who just landed a hot lay like you. Instead, his eyes fall on Steve, Natasha and Clint and his stomach flips. “Bucky,” asks a suspicious Natasha. “What are you doing here?” “Uh, I was just- “ “Is that a hickey?” she cuts across, eyes widening. “Are you here with someone?” Bucky doesnt hear her question, or the several that follow. Just beyond the grimy windows, he spots you offering a lighter to a handsome stranger. A sly smile on your lips and hes left with a bitter taste in his mouth, tequila rising like bile. The intensity of his gaze catches your notice. An impassive expression as you mouth words he remembers all too well. “Remember, Barnes. Dont fall in love with me.”


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