Gainsey

chubby heated rivals & chubby raven cyclists & chubby teen wolves & sometimes other stuff maybe | #my writing | main @ohsoplump | chubstilinski on AO3

[thinkingplump]

Thinking about Ilya utilizing a therapy strategy unintentionally on Shane when his struggles with food flare up and it kinda shifts their entire dynamic around food. He just naturally responds one time without really thinking about it and finds it works so well that it becomes his new "trick" to help his husband actually eat something outside his strict meal plans.

They have been dealing with a particularly rough stretch of games in terms of other people's behavior, bad enough that Shane nearly let his composure drop to fight back at the absolute shit they have heard on the ice. They've taken all the proper steps with Wiebe to report things, and the team has been amazing at providing support, but it still grates at them both. The entire thing has Shane even more in his head than normal, which makes food especially difficult.

Shane is exhausted when they get home. It's too late for lunch and too early for dinner. It's a weird time for a nap or caffeine. He isn't one to ever let himself snack. The whole situation has him irritated and, frankly, hangry. Ilya gently tries to offer suggestions and just starts grabbing things from the fridge, but Shane keeps finding excuses.

Finally, Ilya just asks straight up what Shane wants to eat. Like with no rules or second thoughts, what is the thing Shane would genuinely like to eat right now, and he eventually admits that he would "fucking love some poutine" but he hasn't had it in years and it's not on his meal plan and he shouldn't eat something that heavy at all but especially at three in the afternoon and the reasons to resist go on and on...

Until Ilya cuts in and asks, "What is the worst thing that would happen?" and Shane is frozen for a moment before asking for a repeat of the question. So, Ilya, patient as ever, asks again, "What is the worst thing that would happen if we went to eat poutine right now?" Shane just flounders for a bit, at a loss for an answer, but eventually says, "It would make me, um...it doesn't feel good to go off my meal plan."

And Ilya starts to clarify things, asking "doesn't feel good like physically makes you sick or doesn't feel good like your brain is not nice to you?" which has Shane looking for ways to escape this conversation until he suddenly finds himself very vulnerable with his husband and admits that his "brain is not nice" about food and his body a majority of the time. Ilya is both devastated and proud to hear Shane vocalize that and decides that he will do everything in his power to heal that.

So, Ilya then asks, "if I promise to help when your brain gets mean, will you go eat poutine with me?" and he is even more proud of Shane for taking time to consider it rather than immediately shutting him down. Ilya expects Shane to say "no but maybe another time when I can think about it more", however, his husband surprises him in the best way by asking, "could we maybe share one? I don't think I could eat my own, but it wouldn't be as bad if I know it won't go to waste because I am sharing with you"

Ilya feels like he just won the lottery with that response. He lights up, telling him, "I will always share with you, sweetheart. Thank you for asking" which has Shane feeling warm and loved and maybe even a bit shy. Then, before Shane can second guess himself, Ilya has him in the car and has David on the phone asking for the name of any poutine place Shane may have loved as a child.

From then on, Ilya utilizes this strategy as soon as Shane starts getting wrapped up in tracking his food again or getting a bit too intense around his meal schedules. It will never be an automatic fix, and there are plenty of times that Shane is just too anxious to even entertain wavering from his plan, but it certainly works a lot of the time.

Ilya can't get enough of seeing Shane enjoy food, and with time, Shane also starts to realize that it is really nice to go on spontaneous dates with his husband and actually try the food at Boodram's parties and say yes to dessert and eat a Snickers without it feeling like a moral failing. I

It is a work in progress and Ilya has to ask the question more often in seasons of stress, but he can always seem to get through to Shane eventually. And over time, Shane convinces himself to give therapy a try, which brings on more healing and he starts needing Ilya's prompting less. He's a bit softer than he used to be, but he's also even stronger because he actually bulks now. More importantly, as he's gotten softer, Shane's brain has gotten nicer to him, and Ilya loves both of those things nearly as much as he loves Shane.

[lilliesandpucks]

shane hollander summer body 💪 i dream about you

[gayhockeyshow]

I just thought about the effect big hud’s bigness is gonna have on his stretch marks and I had to pinch the bridge of my nose

[orpheuslament]

dj armpit pervert would like you to put your hands up in the air

[funnier-as-a-feedist]

dj tummy overhang falling out of the bottom of your shirt would also like you to put your hands up in the air

[chubbyshanehollander]

playing around with the concept of public stuffing at a sports event (think of all the hot dogs, fries, beers, other snacks) and how hot it would be for ilya and shane to go to a centaurs game post retirement when shane has finally relaxed into actually enjoying food and is getting chubby as a result and they both love it and the scorching hot teasing potential of ilya getting him more and more food as the game goes on and whispering in his ear how he used to be out there on the ice but now look at him, with a subtle poke to his ever-growing belly…

but if i take the horny goggles off, i do think myshane’s feelings about giving up hockey are probably slightly too complicated for this to really be a goer, like i think he would actually get too upset/self-conscious and not in a horny way, so one must simply split the difference and imagine them watching a game at home on the TV instead (and you know what, maybe it’s not even a live one, maybe they put on a recording of their last centaurs Stanley cup win bc they’re freaks who get off on their own talent) and now ilya can feed Shane to bursting with a selection of snack food prepared to be like they’re actually in the arena, and fuck him in front of the game with as many comments like “can’t stop eating can you Hollander?” as they like with maybe a bit less emotional baggage than physically being there to watch…

[mizuthe-cat]

give a character your issues it's literally free

[funnier-as-a-feedist]

Give a character your fetishes it's literally free

[chubbyshanehollander]

something sinfully appealing to me about situationship era hollanov wg kink, ilya ordering shane too much room service during hotel room hook ups, texting him on random days with a list of things he wants shane to eat, shane getting chubby enough it’s starting to be noticeable, drawing attention in the tabloids and online, and the way ilya would say “all the pretty girls i fuck do not let me do this, hollander, they care too much about their figures” and shane gets soooooo hard about it because of the mixture of shame (he’s the only one greedy enough to lose control and let himself go like this) and smug, pick-me satisfaction (ilya’s not getting to feed anyone else like this even though it clearly turns him on so much)

[bighollanov]

Shane deciding to bulk for a season, but it's really an excuse for Ilya to spoil him with food. He becomes even more of a force to be reckoned with. His new weight means that he can really slam people around with very little effort. He's initially self conscious in the locker room because most of the weight sits on his tummy and thighs, but Ilya absolutely worships his new body. The trainers are initially confused when Shane shows up at the start of the season packing extra weight, but Ilya soothes away all of his fears with affection and food.

Sorry, just a random brain thought I wanted to share.

YESS love ilya “helping” with shane’s bulk, shane rolling his eyes when ilya brings out slices of rich chocolate cake, protesting that cake doesn’t have protein, it’s not going to help him grow… and ilya rubs a hand over shane’s softening tummy and says that he thinks shane’s doing a good job of growing already. and shane can’t be touched like that without getting hard, so ilya jerks him off as shane eats his cake, and it’s all so fucking luxurious that from then on, shane decides fuck it, he’s going to let ilya spoil him however he wants. so he spends the summer hitting PR after PR on the bench while ilya makes sure shane’s belly is as well-fed as it can be, nourishing it with plenty of nutritious meals but never failing to follow them up with rich, indulgent treats.

and shane’s bulk is working, his shoulders and thighs are getting huge— but he’s also growing a deliciously plump tummy that pokes sweetly over all of his waistbands. Ilya can’t keep his hands off it, but Shane’s a little more hesitant at first. “I didn’t go too far, did I?” he asks tentatively, softened chin smushed into his neck as he looks down at the spill of his belly fat into his lap.

“Not at all,” Ilya promises, ghosting his fingernails over Shane’s chubby sides until goosebumps rise on his soft skin. Then he cups Shane’s tummy by the bottom and begins to play with it the way Shane can never resist, the slow massaging circles and jiggling flicks and soft squeezes that leave them both breathless and achingly hard. The sex is amazing that night. The chocolate mousse ilya feeds him afterwards is even better.

When Shane returns to the locker room, he gets more than a few double-takes directed at his midsection, especially when his tummy pushes obviously tight against the front of his gear. but he just quietly sizes up—he’d needed a bigger size for the new bulk of his arms and shoulders, anyway—and everyone on the team learns to pity the man that tries to ram Hollander into the boards, because lord knows Hollander came back from the summer as a fucking tank

[snugshane]

Shane shifted in the bed as he slowly began to wake. He let out a small moan, feeling Ilya’s warm breath against his skin, already showering him with attention. Shane had always been the early riser between the two of them but on nights like last night, when he found himself going to bed overfed and heavy, he couldn’t help but sleep in. He still wasn’t entirely used to the change though he probably should have been considering how these days it happened more often than not. Still, there were worse things in the world than waking up to Ilya’s mouth.

“Morning,” Shane’s voice was still quiet and half asleep.

Ilya was positioned low in the bed kissing Shane’s hip. Shane shifted slightly, arching into his husband’s touch. His fingers found their way into Ilya’s soft, messy curls and he lazily began playing with his hair in response.

“Morning moy tolsten'kiy tigr,” Ilya responds against Shane’s skin.

Shane licks his lips and sinks further into the mattress under Ilya’s touch. He’s so lost in the wonders of Ilya’s mouth against his body that it takes a moment for the words to hit him.

“Fuck you I’m not a chubby tiger.”

Shane’s protest is half-hearted at best as he tightens his grip on Ilya’s hair, keeping him close instead of pushing him away. Ilya lets out a small laugh in response and recenters his attention to Shane’s belly. Shane’s breath hitches when Ilya’s mouth moves along the generous curve of his middle and his tongue dips into his belly button.

“Oh you are not,” Ilya says. He brings his hands to the sides of Shane’s stomach because yes there is definitely more than enough for Ilya to hold onto. “Then what is this?”

Shane bites down on his lip as Ilya shakes his belly. His whole body jiggles from the movement which causes his cheeks to flush. Ilya kisses his stomach again before letting his fingers slip to Shane’s lower belly. He’s deliberate with his touch, fingers moving in slow lines that make Shane’s breath hitch because yeah maybe he’s gotten a little more sensitive the bigger that he’s gotten. He can’t see Ilya’s face in this position but he just knows that he’s smiling. “And what are these?” Ilya asks as his hands move to Shane’s hips and then his thighs. Shane’s body is a map of stretchmarks in various shades. Fresh dark purple ones frame his belly while faded silver streaks cover his hips and ass. Ilya maps every single one. He follows them first with his fingertips and then with his mouth while Shane melts beneath him. 

After a few minutes of Ilya thoroughly worshipping at the altar of Shane’s body, he is betrayed by his own stomach that lets out a deep growl.

“See? You even growl like tiger.”

“You are such an asshole,” Shane says with a laugh that sounds a lot like ‘I love you’.

Ilya slides up Shane’s body sinking into him as they share a kiss that is interrupted by Shane’s stomach growling once more. Ilya’s smile widens and slides a hand back to Shane’s stomach.

“Do not worry moy tolsten'kiy tigr, I will feed you.”

[hoechloin]

When you're shovelling pasta into your mouth was that part of the character or were you just ready for pasta?

[iressails]

Thighs fighting the swim shorts 😢

Bonus

[chubstilinski]

If you’re still doing the word game, how about soft/softer for hr?

“Drink.” Shane chugs down the whole glass of water in three seconds flat and sets the glass down too hard. It clinks heavily on the counter, sound echoing off the tile. He burps, light and airy, licks his puffy red lips and says, “Hey. Hey.” Shane reaches out both legs to pull at Ilya until he’s snugly fitted between them. He wraps his arms around Ilya’s shoulders in a tight hold and slurs, “You’re sweet. No one knows. Everyone should know.” Ilya melts into him without meaning to, curls around his waist to dig his fingers into Shane’s plush sides. Clumsy hands rub over Ilya’s back, into the hair at the base of his neck. He kisses under Shane’s soft chin. “And you are a very handsy drunk.”   “I like touching you. You feel nice. Smell nice.” Shane burrows into Ilya’s neck, nuzzling, breath against his skin. He’s burning up, inferno heat. Ilya shivers. “Mmm. Warm.”  Ilya allows himself a handful of seconds to indulge in this, far more than he deserves. Then he tugs Shane’s ass off the counter and gets him to his feet. “Come on, Hollander.” “Yeah, okay. I shoul’ get going, I guess.” Ilya wants to beg. Don’t go. “Maybe you are too drunk?” “No.” Shane smiles, sunshine-bright. His glassy eyes glitter in the overhead. “Perfect drunk.” 

[miplup]

it's like 199 degrees‼️🥵

[chubbyshanehollander]

Shane having a praise kink and Ilya pavloving him into eating more because he tells him he's a good boy for clearing his plate and then whoops Shane is conditioned to keep eating even after he's full because he wants that praise

anon you have to know Shane Hollander praise kink is like a red rag to a bull to meeee so have little ficlet for this delicious ask (I even remembered to use "keep reading" to spare all of your dashes lol)

Good Boy

Shane is looking at Ilya expectantly. Leaning back in his chair, one hand tentatively resting on a belly that is plump enough, now, to show through his loosest shirts, even when he hasn’t eaten too much. Tonight, after two helpings of spaghetti bolognese, it's particularly round and perfect and Ilya wants to sink his teeth into it, but he exercises restraint. He waits. He gets out his phone, composes a text to Svetlana.

"Ilya."

Ilya glances up. Shane's expression is now tilting rapidly into petulant, scrunched up and cute just the way Ilya likes best.

"Yes, malysh?"

"I… I’m finished."

Both their gazes drop to the empty plate in front of Shane.

"Yes," Ilya says. "I can see that."

Shane’s brows draw even closer together.

"What?" Ilya asks. "You want more?"

"No," Shane says.

"Ok. Then I will clear."

Ilya gets to his feet and moves around the table like he's going to take Shane’s plate.

"Ilya," Shane says again.

Standing over Shane, Ilya lets his smile spread slowly, languid as a patient predator. His steady attention making Shane blush.

"You need something?"

Shane glares up at him, then looks quickly away.

"No."

Ilya gets closer. Takes Shane’s chin in his hand, twists his face back towards him.

"I think you do."

His fingers squeeze Shane's mouth into even more of a pout.

"I think," Ilya says, making sure to be slow in the way he drags his eyes down to Shane's tummy, to savour the sight of it, so chubby and well-fed and so obviously full, "that you need me to say, good job, Hollander, eating all that food."

He's sure to load the words with plenty of teasing condescention. Shane tries to wriggle out of his grip.

"Fuck off, asshole," he says.

Ilya grins.

"You really think, Shane, that I am going to give you praise simply for having dinner? Something everyone in the world does literally every day?"

This is the part where Shane could say that of course he thinks Ilya is going to do that. Why wouldn't he, when Ilya has done just that for months, ever since Shane first began to relax his diet. Every generous serving, every decadent dessert, Ilya was sure to shower him with praise, rubbing the slight (and then, as the months passed, not-so-slight) curve of his belly, sometimes getting on his knees right there at the table to put his mouth on Shane's dick like a reward. Training Shane, practically, to associate eating to excess with earning Ilya's approval.

But his husband - his wonderful, stubborn, complicated husband - has never met a desire he was able to clearly vocalise, so he's not going to say any of this.

Ilya finally releases Shane. Picks up his plate, grabs his own, and is heading for the kitchen when Shane says, "Wait."

Ilya pauses, turns. Raises an eyebrow expectantly.

Shane looks not dissimilar to when he's about to step out on the ice before a game. A kind of jaw set, eyes blazing look that means all the Centaurs' rookies give him a wide berth during warm ups.

"I changed my mind," Shane says. "I do want more."

Ilya takes a sharp breath. Two helpings has become pretty standard at mealtimes for Shane. But three?

Ilya's tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Of course," he says. "I will get you more."

As he dishes out more pasta from the pan on the stove, Ilya can feel the eager thrum of his own heartbeat in his ears, his fingers, at his throat. He has no idea why it affects him like this, watching Shane eat. Maybe it's the idea that he - Ilya - did this. That his encouragement has taken physical form, in the extra fat around Shane's waist, testing the hems of his t shirts and the buttons of his pants. That Shane eats as much as he wants to, and then eats some more, the extra purely for Ilya's sake.

Ilya takes a little pity of Shane with a smaller portion than the first two, but it's still an incredible amount on top of what Shane's eaten already. Something Shane seems to realise himself when Ilya sets it in front of him, judging by the way his eyes go a little wide, and the way, probably without thinking, his hand rubs a few times over his pudgy tummy, as if testing its fullness. But when he meets Ilya's gaze, he looks determined. He picks up his fork and he eats.

Ilya sits. He watches. The first third or so of the plate seems to go down without too much trouble, but then Shane starts to slow. His cheeks are pink, he's a little breathless. When he looks up at Ilya, his eyes are glazed.

"Getting full, malysh?"

Shane makes a small mmph sound. Ilya feels a little feral, leaning forward until he can see where Shane's shirt has ridden up to reveal a strip belly, spilling over the waistband of his too-tight jeans.

"But you're going to eat it all," Ilya says. "Because I want you to. And you want to be good for me, don't you?"

"Fuck," Shane says, sounding almost as dazed as he does mid-fuck when he's already come twice and Ilya asks him for another. "Yes. Please."

The please sends a jolt of arousal through Ilya - the idea that Shane is begging to be allowed to keep stuffing himself full of pasta. The look Ilya gives Shane, surely one of unbridled lust, seems to be enough to push Shane past the halfway point, through until there's maybe a quarter of the plate left.

When he starts to flag again, Ilya gets to his feet.

"You need me to feed you the rest?"

Shane drops his fork, collapsing back in his chair. He nods helplessly. A hiccup sets the fat of his tummy jiggling.

Ilya picks up the plate and stands between Shane's legs. Shane opens his mouth obediently in a way that makes Ilya light-headed, makes him want to stick his tongue, his fingers, his cock, the whole rest of the pan of spaghetti inside.

Shane whimpers around the last few bites. But he finishes. Ilya can't quite believe he finishes. Ilya's lucky he doesn't drop the plate in his haste to set it down and get his trembling hands on Shane's belly, running them down to pop open the button on his pants, and then rubbing broad circles that emphasise how round it is, how utterly stuffed, proud proof of Shane's every indulgence.

"So good," Ilya says. "Ate so well for me. Look how full you got, such a good job." No trace of his earlier sarcasm. His words, his touches, are reverent.

"Ilya," Shane whines.

"You want your reward?"

Shane's pupils are blown wide, his lips parted. Ilya leans in, almost but not quite close enough to kiss him.

"There is cheesecake in the fridge," Ilya says. "I will get you a slice. Then I will get on my knees and I will blow you and you will not come until you finish it, yes?"

He runs his fingers gently through Shane's hair, petting him like a dog. Shane closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

"Ok. Yes."

Ilya smiles. Pats Shane's cheek. These days even his face is rounder, softer. He's so beautiful.

"Such a good boy."

[shanepanzon]

One night Ilya’s thumb brushes against a couple of subtle dimples on Shane's hand. Objectively, he knows Shane's gaining weight, as he usually does when he's pregnant; but he's never gotten fat enough to have dimples in his hands.

Ilya doesn't point them out out loud, aside from pressing a kiss against each of them. Shane doesn't bat an eye, aside from giving Ilya a soft smile and going back to his book. The back of his hand turns into his wrist, then his forearm, the bulging bicep against a tight shirt, his shoulder, his neck. Next thing, Shane's on his side, book forgotten and glasses askew as Ilya keeps pressing soft kisses going south, with Shane's pudgier fingers gently pulling on his curls.

Some weeks later the dimples get deeper, and Ilya can't get enough of kissing Shane's hidden knuckles, attracted to them the way he is to the deep dimples in his lower back.

[chunkyshane]

Thinking about the early early days of your Flowers In June universe, and whether Shane in particular ever had any quiet fantasies about Ilya’s weight gain as he watched it happening… did he ever catch himself thinking about the future and feeling flustered by it and then feel some type of way about that? - @6xlya

Truly I think I could write more on this because I think Shane’s feelings in the beginning would me so muddled and mixed up but I didn’t want it to be too angsty, so here’s a little bit about his fantasies! Thank you so much for the prompt, this little universe is so fun to live in and flesh out.

Within six months of admitting that Shane was into Ilya getting fatter, Ilya put on the remaining 25 pounds to get him to their soft limit of 300. The whole time Shane was worried that the second Ilya stepped on the scale and saw how fat Shane had made him, he’d want out, he’d be done with it. But that was not what happened.

Ilya peered over his belly, empty like it only was when he first woke up, saw his weight, stepped off, and said “my next soft limit is 400, I want to break the scale.”

Shane had then immediately shoved him to the bed and rode him, grabbing at handfuls of fat that he had put there.

Shane was having a hard time keeping 400 pound Ilya out of his mind now, though. It had been a few weeks, and a few pounds, since the renegotiation and all Shane could think about was where the next hundred pounds would settle on Ilya’s body.

He was mostly belly right now, a product of several stuffings a week. But Shane knew that as he gained more and more his weight would redistribute. His rolls that Shane was already obsessed with would get thicker and deeper, his belly would sag lower and lower until it started to cover his thighs even when he was standing up. Ilya was developing a gorgeous little roll on the top of his thigh that Shane was absolutely obsessed with. Ilya held him down there for what seemed like hours while Shane licked and nibbled at the roll. Ilya had said he was so good at eating him out that Shane had almost cum in his boxers. Fuck, Ilya would probably start to waddle soon with the way his thighs were plumping up.

Meal times were getting harder and harder for Shane to get through. It was his own fault really, he didn’t need to fill Ilya’s plate that full and then fill him another plate equally as full. But the way Ilya’s eyes got glassy and hooded when he finally set his fork down was addicting to Shane. He needed it. And he knew that every plate was getting Ilya closer and closer to Shane’s perverted little fantasy. There had been a few times that Shane had gotten so turned on just thinking about Ilya in a hundred pounds that he’d had to excuse himself from the table to go calm down.

He would feel conflicted about how hot he found all of this if Ilya didn’t somehow find it hotter. Ilya had gotten more vocal about his own feelings towards his weight and especially towards Shane feeding him.

Every plate Shane put down in front of him was met with “you feed me so well solnyshko, making me nice and fat just for you.” Or a similar comment that left Shane a bit dazed. They had also introduced teasing now that Ilya was very comfortable with their dynamic. All of the new additions were leading to them having the best sex of their entire relationship.

Ilya wasn’t the only greedy one, Shane wanted more, and he was going to get more.

[gaygoatshane]

shane's big ass smile when ilya squeezes his tit and calls him a pervert is very important to who #myshane is