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He/Him (trans) | Married, so please respect this | Current fandoms: Ouran High School Host Club, My Hero Academia, Bungou Stray Dogs

[kinky-pen]

FIC MASTERLIST

OHSHC

Plush

(KyoKao // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism, stuffing, crossdressing kink, maid kink, humiliation kink)

Part One

Kyoya’s put on some weight, and Kaoru can’t help but notice.

Part Two 

Kyoya’s appetite caught up with him, and he’s really not hating the result…

Part Three

Kyoya’s always surpassed expectations, but this has certainly been the most enjoyable one he can recount.

Part Four

Kyoya’s old maid’s dress definitely won’t fit, right? Although, it is rather stretchy…

Part Five

Request: “Your fat belly burst through another pair of jeans? I don’t know why you bother buying them anymore.” With Kyoya and Kaoru, please

Part Six

Having just come home from the supermarket, Kaoru finds his fat kitten of a boyfriend has already taken it upon himself to get stuffed that evening - without him. (Inspired by this)

Indulgent Stress

(TamaKyo // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism, daddy kink, dom/sub, semi-public sex)

Part One

Request: (A chubby) Tamaki is forced to go to a boring party for his dad. He’s surrounded by snobby rich people and somehow he can’t charm his way out of their passive-aggressive comments. Annoyed, bored, and lonely, he passes the time indulging in hors d'oeuvres and champagne. Later, Kyoya gets a drunk text from Tamaki, whining about how rude the other guests are and that he already popped a button from gorging himself. Kyoya puts on his best suit and turns up to the party to make it a lot less boring.

Part Two

Kyoya gives Tamaki some much needed care in the bathroom stall.

Part Three

Request: I don’t know if Kyoya actually paints or if it’s just part of the metaphor in “And so Kyoya met him”, but for a prompt, I was thinking if Kyoya would paint a ”Rubenesque” painting of a fat, half-naked Tamaki like some well-fed god of youth and beauty (something reminiscent of the classical painting “Venus at a mirror” by Peter Paul Rubens). Of course it would be hard to concentrate on painting when your ravishing, rotund muse is so distracting…

Sweet Praises

(TamaHaru // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism, stuffing, femdom, dom/sub, pet play)

Part One

Request: “You’re so soft and jiggly now…let’s get you weighed and find out how much fatter you’re going to get.” + Dominant Haruhi and a Submissive Tamaki.

Part Two

Prompt: Imagine your fave character having a ‘comfy’ pair of drawstring trousers they change into before stuffing/before you feed them. at first they were baggy and strechy. Now they’re tight even when your Fave changes into them and the waist band has to be pulled down to give their belly room

Weight of Competition

(KyoHaru // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism, mutual gaining, stuffing, breaking furniture, dom/sub, femdom, pegging)

Part One

Both Haruhi and Kyoya love to eat, but it seems Haruhi’s the most affected by all the delicious meals and snacks. Request: "God, you’ve gotten fat!" With haruhi as the gainer. Pairing up to you

Part Two

Haruhi and Kyoya have an eating contest with a challenge-sized bowl of ramen each. They’re getting bigger by the day, and Kyoya thinks about an even fatter future.

Part Three

Haruhi spends the day at home, doing nothing but eating. Just like a girl as big as her should.

Snacks At The Office

(KyoHaru // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism, femdom, dom/sub, riding)

Part One

Prompt: Imagine your favorite character having an at home job that takes up the majority of their time but doesn’t require much physical activity. Since they’re pretty much in the same spot all day they decide to start stocking up on snacks to keep at their workspace, to save trips to the kitchen every few hours or so. It also keeping them occupied when works slow. Their consistent snacking soon catches up to them resulting in some seriously cute weight gain and a bigger appetite. And according to fav? It’s the best they’ve ever been.

Part Two

Request: Fat kyouya. Dont even care which couple, just fat kyouya is probably my favorite. Not chubby, but fat. Maybe where hes wearing Ill fitting clothes to a social event? And his partner pokes fun at him.

Date Nights and Big Meals

(HaruRenge // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism)

Part One

Haruhi and Renge love going out to restaurants, but what they both might love more (apart from each other) is the effect this has on their waistlines…

Big Indulgences

(TamaHaruKyoKao // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism, foursome, dom/sub, button popping, talk of getting stuck in a booth)

Part One

Request: Maybe you could do a crossover-thing with “Plush” and “Sweet Praises”? Like, Kaoru and Haruhi find out somehow that they’re both feeders, having to explain how Tamaki and Kyoya got so big recently. They can’t help but feel somewhat prideful, almost showing off how fat they’ve made them both. ….Foursome, maybe?

Part Two

Tamaki is more observant than people give him credit for, and he uses these skills to drive everyone mad at the table. Kaoru and Haruhi are just trying to make it through a meal without ruining their underwear.

Pretty Doll

(TamaKyoHaru // Threesome, FemDom, Spit Roasting, Pegging, Corsetry, Doll Play, Lingerie, Objectification Kink, Crossdressing, Crying After Sex, Aftercare, dom!Haruhi, switch!Tamaki, sub!Kyoya) Tamaki and Haruhi enjoy their little sex doll immensely, Kyoya loves not having to think.

Big Bimbo

(HikaHaru // Bimbofication kink (sort of), Weight Gain, Chubby kink, Clothing Malfunction, Button Popping, Obesity, sub!Hikaru, dom!Haruhi, Bratting, mentions of Immobility/Mobility issues) Hikaru loves being a dumb bimbo for his girlfriend. He also loves that he’s eaten himself out of his tight little shorts, but he’s not just going to admit he has.

MHA

Pretty Piggy (Roommates 'verse)

(KamiJirou // weight gain, chubby kink, feedism, outgrown clothes, mild bullying kink, stuffing, mild pig play, mentions of pegging)

Part One

Denki Kaminari is a very good piggy.

Repair Problems (Roommates 'verse)

(kacchako // weight gain, chubby kink, outgrown clothes, accidental weight gain, denial of weight gain, fat admiration)

Part One

The washing machine was out to get Katsuki, he was sure of it. His clothes were tight, or just wouldn’t fucking fit! He’d even called out a repair person to come look at it and see why this was happening to him. Turns out, it’s not the washing machine, and he somehow gets a date out of the whole embarrassing experience… (Inspired by this)

[kinky-pen]

For anyone interested in my own opinions 🥰😘

[kinky-pen]

Sugar Daddy (Part one: Glazed Choux)

Rating: Mature Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: ShinIida Contains: Sugar Daddy, Daddy Kink, Weight Gain, Stuffing, Burping (very brief) Request: Never thought about Shinsou and Iida like that before, but fuck I’m all for it! Just write anything about those boys if you can! Make either of them big boys or even both. Just let loose with this one, put whatever else you like. Summary: Hitoshi had never really had a partner who was more than casual. In fact, he'd never had a partner who'd treated him this well. Now, if only that could stop showing on his waistline, he'd be golden. (Inspired by this. This is also in the same universe as Pretty Piggy and Repair Problems, just so you guys know, but can 100% be read as a stand alone. Enjoy!)

It started, as these things do, with people getting way too involved in Hitoshi's life.

He had a stable job with a good boss, a decent apartment with a grumpy-ass dumpster cat, and had a little extra to go out on the weekends if he so chose. Not that Hitoshi ever chose to, but the option was there in case he... smacked his head and immediately became an extrovert, or something. Well, Turkey also got some little cat clothes to shield their naked butt from the sun and the cold, but that was money well spent.

Pampered little thing hardly remembered he was a stray kitten anymore, demanding wet food and scraps like he'd never been told no in his life.

So, his life had gotten really awesome. Better than it ever was as a kid or teenager, the independence something he's always wanted.

But, that just wasn't good enough for a certain green-haired busybody. He liked Izuku, he legitimately did, but sometimes the boy's hyperfocus on socialisation was a little much.

Still, when Izuku had come to him, those stupidly sparkly eyes wide and all smiles, saying that he had a friend who was interested in a blind date... He said yes? For some reason?? Maybe it was how earnest Izuku had been, or that smile that convinced everyone in the office that he only ever held their best interests at heart while he shat rainbows, or something like that. Maybe it was the tight button up shirt and the realisation that Shinsou hadn't had a date with anyone but his own right hand in nearly two years.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, Shinsou didn't find romantic attraction all that easy to form, so masturbation was a simpler option. Still, the hookups he'd had were satisfying enough, and maybe a change of routine would be good for him.

That's when he found out that Izuku - cute little Izuku from his office - somehow knew Tenya Iida. Scratch that, that was when Hitoshi was set up on a date with a very rich man. Sure, not really wealth-hording or child slavery rich (thank God, he didn't have to wrestle with the moral implications of that), but more than he could ever expect to see in his lifetime.

And the rich CEO type fucker liked him. Liked Hitoshi Shinsou. And Hitoshi fell harder than he expected to over the few months they'd been dating, immediately met with info-dumping about different types of formula one engines and their uses in the consumer market as well as professional racing.

He'd been given gifts, sent chocolates, went to good quality restaurants with ten-course extravaganzas before they both finally admitted they were more fond of staying inside than dealing with people. And that was great!

What was less great, Hitoshi now realised, was how all those chocolates, sweets, biscuits and higashi sat on his waistline.

Hitoshi had always been a bit skinny, although puberty decided to take a little pity on him upon seeing his acne-splotched cheeks and rank underarms, by gracing him with some muscle along his arms, shoulders and chest. He found it easy enough to bulk up, provided he could be bothered, but this was different.

Hitoshi tugged his jeans again, sucking in with all his might, trying to just get the button in the hole. He'd gained a good ten pounds in the last month alone, and very little of it was muscle. Most of it had gone to his gut - because, he apparently had a gut now, not just some padding - and was making itself known.

He'd already eaten himself out of one wardrobe over the course of this relationship, and now it seemed the "new" clothes still couldn't keep up.

Hitoshi gave up, releasing his grip on the fabric and wandering over to the mirror, hands cupping his overhang and giving it a testing jiggle. Relationship weight was par for the course, he'd known that - Izuku gained so much weight with his ex girlfriend that he started to waddle around the office like a particularly round daruma doll. Still, it was a little disconcerting.

Did that mean Hitoshi had any control when surrounded by his sugar daddy's onslaught of gifts, however? Absolutely not. He'd lie to himself for an hour or two that the diet started now, and that he'd space out the snacks over the course of a week, and maybe give some out at the office because Tenya was too goddamn generous for his own good.

It always ended the same way, though. Hitoshi, stuffed to bursting on the couch, chocolate around his mouth and smeared on his stretched out shirt as he attempted to pull it down over his glutted stomach, an aching, burp-y mess.

Oh, and the cherry on top, hard as a rock.

It seemed that he discovered something about himself, and that was the fact that eating until he was a fat, slobby mess was somehow irresistibly hot. Especially as it was on a gorgeous, muscular, rich guy's dime - and because said rich guy was also unbearably sweet and in love with him. And Hitoshi, being honest, was more than a little in love with him in return.

He worried, however, that if he got fat - not just plush or chubby, but undeniably fat, which was right where he was heading if he didn't get a grip - then Tenya would lose interest. Cerebrally, they were too much of a match, and Tenya was too good of a person to just dump him outright, but the idea of someone so perfect cooling on him sexually felt like the beginning of the end.

They had great conversations, but if Hitoshi wasn't attractive or sexy enough, then would Tenya actually stick it out? He couldn't see why. He might force himself to, might push himself to stick to morality and not break it off because his boyfriend let himself go, but that's not what Hitoshi wanted for either of them.

Throughout this entire internal monologue, however, Hitoshi had been feeling the weight of his new belly. Pawing over the new fat that got in the way of his trousers closing, and making his work shirts entirely inappropriate for the office.

The mental image of Izuku, some months before, popping off the buttons of his own button down some months prior came to his mind, unbidden. The sizable lunch, the hand rubbing the mound of his abdomen, and then the inevitable rush of embarrassment that turned his face red - from his chipmunk cheeks to the double-turning-triple chin. Had Izuku's girlfriend also been as libral with the gifts and lunches as Tenya was being with his?

"Fuck," Hitoshi groaned, roughly tugging the trousers down as they got caught around thick hips and love handles, kicking them off with distain as he flopped down on his bed.

In the mirror, he saw his gut bounce with the movement. He noticed the springs in his mattress yell out a little more with his steadily increasing weight.

Would he end up like Izuku had been? Would he stuff himself so utterly in the breakroom, that everyone would see how much of a mindless pig he'd made of himself? Would his walk also become a waddle, the inseam of his unbuttonable trousers chaffing away to nothing?

He wasn't attracted to Izuku, not in that way, but the thought of ending up like that? Of Tenya pampering him to the point that everyone could see that indulgence?

Maybe Tenya wouldn't be disgusted. Maybe Tenya would be coddling, stroking his button-popping gut and getting him more snacks as it pinned him down to the sofa. Maybe, Tenya would be just a little teasing with it - how much influence he held over Hitoshi's quickly waning self control.

The idea of Tenya pushing the food just out of reach, watching Hitoshi struggle over his growing belly to just lean over and sate this new desire of his, lit a fire deep in his fat-swollen stomach as he stroked along his dick.

"Come on, baby," He'd croon, cruelly encouraging with half-lidded eyes, "I know you can reach it. You just need to eat, don't you?"

And Hitoshi would need it. Hitoshi would even let himself whine between over-full burps, begging for a little mercy and more to stuff himself with, a slave to this new-found pleasure.

Hitoshi came embarrassingly fast, eyes locking on to his reflection in the mirror. Hair a mess, eyes a little wild, his overhang now painted with his own cum like glaze on round pastry.

That was new.

[chublov1]

We need more royalty feedism. Guards, put them in well-fitted lace and keep bringing in the finest food our kingdom has to offer until they've properly rounded out.

[w33dslvtpup]

okay im thinking about this more. being the spoiled princess in a castle who's constantly being brought more decadent treats. ignoring your waistline slowly expanding because surely it must just be from lazing around all day, a little exercise would get ride of the water weight.

but eventually you can't ignore how tight all your clothes fit, luckily you have royal tailors to make larger and even more beautiful clothes to caress your beautiful expanding plush body. eventually the townspeople will begin to point and make comments but you're already too far gone to stop yourself any time soon. there isn't a time a treat isn't in your demanding chubby hand.

[chublov1]

We LOVE feedee princesses (and princes for that matter). Never worked a day in their life, growing so much more spoiled and demanding, denying they're the ones responsible for their plumpness - it must be the staff, the cook, someone else! Or the other way around, they get more bossy *because* they're fatter, revelling in taking up space, in others serving them even further, even more intensely... Every task they need support with becomes a new layer of luxury, of laziness and decadence. Zero pushback from those that feed their greedy mouth and measure the embarrassingly jiggly tummy...

[chumbykitty-deactivated20200116]

Not to be overdramatic but seeing folks outgrow their clothes cause theyve been gaining so much that they cant even button up their shirts because of their huge gut just leaves me w e a k

[kinky-pen]

Have you ever read In the House of Fata Morgana or any other visual novels?

Unfortunately not! I'm more anime/manga focussed, when I'm not reading novels, so I focus on that with my kink writing. I don't think we're ready for Crime and Punishment feedism lol!

...

Aaand now I'm thinking of it 😅

[bunbug]

I don't think people talk enough about fat thighs here. The way some of you used to be able to sit with your knees naturally knocking together. But now there's so much fat fighting for space on your thick legs that resting with your knees together is just impossible.

How's it feel to be so bloated up with excess fat that your body is forced to widen itself just to accommodate your piggish appetite?

Finish the food you're stuffing in your maw before answering, fatty. It's rude to talk with your mouth full.

[kinky-pen]

Anatomical Study of Noé Archiviste: The Inadequacy of Buttons (part one)

Rating: Mature Fandom: The Case Study of Vanitas Pairing: VaNoé, Mentioned VaniJeanne Characters: Vanitas, Noé Archiviste, Jeanne (Mentioned), Mikhail (Mentioned) Contains: Weight Gain, Accidental Stuffing, Clothing Malfunctions, Button Popping, Vanitas-typical Mental Illness, Noé-typical Obliviousness, Warning: Vague spoilers for the end of the anime but nothing too explicit Summary: Noé has always been something of a glutton, and oblivious, and too cloyingly sweet for his own good - no additional sugar necessary. However, with things changing and the infection he previously held for Jeanne spreading into his "strictly professional" partnership, Vanitas is sure that his undoing is going to come at the hand of an increasingly overtaxed waistcoat with "badly sewn buttons".

They're at a café again.

Don't get Vanitas wrong, while he's not really one to sit on his laurels for too long, after Noé nearly saw another one of his childhood attachments die, their brutal fight, and just everything with Mikhail and Noé's teacher; it was nice to rest. With their injuries, it was best to not go straight back into work.

Or, so Dante and the other Dhampirs lecture whenever they ask for any leads. So a man wants to bury his recently re-opened wounds with work, that was his right!

He just can't take Noé's concerned, puppyish gaze right now. He'll convince him at a later date that all of Pari needs them out and about; but for now, Noé can spend his time galivanting around the cafés and patisseries of their fair city, and drag him along behind for "fresh air" and "enrichment" or Noé's convinced he'll start clawing at the walls.

Part of him might recognise that the vampire is right, but he's going to be indignant about it. With all the emotional vulnerability that has underscored their time together since Mikhail fell back and left them alone, he can't start being overly honest now - it might kill him.

Speaking of.

"That was so yummy!" Noé exclaimed, leaning back in his chair, hands immediately going to the swell of his abdomen with the most contented sigh. The flush to his rounding cheeks is like another blow entirely, pale lashes laying against the pinker hue in a way that has to be some kind of curse for him, specifically. Maybe Lady Domi, too, but he's not factoring her in as of this moment.

See, the infection that had previously only affected what was between him and the Hellfire Witch was spreading. The ache, the flutter in his chest and stomach, the racing thoughts... Whilst Noé had always occupied a portion of his mind, this was getting stupid. The bastard throwing open his arms as they fell, the fact Vanitas couldn't follow through with the one thing he'd promised... All for Noé.

And, he was coming to realise, he wanted to do a lot for Noé. Like go along with him to all these pretty little cafés and watch his vampire companion absolutely decimate a tarte tatin. Or two... Or three.

It seemed with their outings, Noé was getting more comfortable with getting extra servings. The more extra servings he got, the less sizable a single portion felt like, so the occasional indulgence of seconds became his regular, and thirds his luxury.

Then, he was indulging in said luxury every other visit. Visits that got more frequent, also. Whenever Noé wasn't sure what to do for the allotted "outdoor time" he'd inflicted on them both - having exhausted the library, the museums, or the art galleries for the week - his first thought was desserts.

It was cute. It was so cute, and Vanitas was beginning to despise it.

Especially, with the increase in intake and sharp decrease in fighting for their lives - meaning much less exercise and stress - the sweets and pastries were causing... something else...

Noé brought a hand to his mouth, stifling a couple of overfull hiccups, which only caused the blushing to become more vivid as he held on to those gentlemanly manners in the midst of being pleasurably stuffed. They also drew attention to the padding around his waist, how confined it was by his clothing, how it had bloated from the several slices he'd "treated" himself to - as if that wasn't becoming a habit.

"Ugh, I ate too much again..." He bemoaned, leaning back in a way that might look normal to anyone else, but Vanitas' feverish mind could only label as whorish. To rub your chubby stomach whilst complaining of overindulgence, making your partner - professional partner - notice the buttons of your waistcoat practically screaming for help containing the new gut you've grown from sugar and lack of running around? Filthy. Perverted. Absolutely indecent.

And the worst part? The vampire was completely oblivious! Both to the effect this was having on Vanitas, and the fact that all of his clothing was begging for mercy apart from his sleep shirt.

The ugly thing was still a little baggy, but hitched up whenever Noé moved, practically showing off the roll of puffy flesh beginning to hang a little over the waistband of his trousers. Inviting and indecorous. Vanitas would burn it, as he'd thought of doing many times in the past whenever he caught sight of that dirty yellow dishrag; but then he'd have a shirtless, fattening vampire in his line of sight all night, and he can only go the the bathroom so many times before even Noé notices an issue.

Noé always notices his issues, even if he's not perfect at deciphering them, with what little information Vanitas gives him regarding his past. But that's now changed. Not wholly, but enough to cause concern.

"Vanitas?" Noé's confused tone shakes him out of his reverie, and Vanitas realised that he'd been caught staring at his companion's... filled out stomach.

"Pardon," He coughed out, fist in front of his lips. He could feel his face twitch, and grow hot, and however naïve and, sometimes, foolish he was, Noé certainly couldn't miss that.

However, when the man moved to sit up, to meet Vanitas' eye and talk to him about what was going on - presumably - he was interrupted. The overtaxed waistcoat couldn't take the movement of the stuffed gut within, the continuous taxing from the layer of fat that had covered Noé's once lithely muscular frame.

The button over the apex of the vampire's paunch finally popped off, the puckered material going from only showing a sliver of the black shirt beneath, to displaying a mix of dark silk and tanned flesh. It seemed Noé's shirt was also suffering the effects of his overindulgence, and that thought alone stoked what could only be described as fire - low in Vanitas' own abdomen. It was all he could do not to squirm in his seat, seeing how Noé was undeniably eating himself out of his wardrobe, and in such little time.

Then, there was Noé's face. The light flush of satisfaction from a filling treat was replaced with scarlet embarrassment, a fang hooking his lower lip and eyes widened in something adjacent to distress, closer to disbelief.

As if Noé hadn't had to fight the buttons of his trousers into closing, or hadn't had to wrestle them over widening hips in the first place. Like his shirt didn't show off diamonds of mailable flesh, and his thighs and derriere weren't straining every seam. As if he truly hadn't noticed a thing.

And why the hell did Vanitas find that more adorable than anything? The sweet obliviousness, the fact that Noé could miss something so obvious that even strangers on the street were starting to notice. A pretty, plump figure where Noé still seemed to believe was hard muscle, only a little give on the stomach that spoke to an occasional indulgence and good hydration.

Vanitas kneeled down, retrieving the wayward button, and set about fixing the first problem he'd been allowed to in several weeks - somewhat insignificant though it was.

"I think it's time to go, Noé," He prompted the somewhat-petrified vampire, offering the long, double-breasted coat Noé was known to wear out and about, from where he'd snatched it off the back of the other man's chair.

As tantalising as he found the supple flesh, it wouldn't be polite to walk the streets with that sweet, puffy strip of dough-like skin on display - and Noé was a sucker for politeness. More than that, the idea of anyone else laying their eyes on the display felt...

Vanitas was going to describe it as "uncomfortable", for his own peace of mind. Keep it vague.

Luckily, the coat had always had a small amount of give. Well, not so much now that Noé was over-satiated and a little rotund, but it closed well enough for the short walk to their rooms. Even if you could see the rounded outline of Noé's overconsumption, the barest trace of the dip in his navel.

Vanitas had to focus, not let his imagination run roughshod over him. Tugging Noé out of the establishment, the appropriate number of Francs left on the table, he needed to stop letting himself get distracted by that enchanting outline.

The softness of Noé's developing lower belly enticed him, begged him to feel the squishy heft of it, to imagine what it might grow to if their break were to continue; whilst the upper bloat was obviously harder, and filled his heart with the temptation to rub and soothe it. His widening hips seemed to offer themselves for Vanitas' hands to cup, to appreciate. His seam-testing thighs begged to be groped, the non-existent gap would provide perfect friction if Noé were to just let him -

No. No, stop it.

At least, with all of Vanitas' fantasizing on Noé's body - both now and what it might become - the several street walk went quickly enough. He simply let autopilot and Noé (as dangerous as that was) lead him home, and he barely registered crossing the threshold until Noé sat heavily on his own bed with a out of breath huff.

"My apologies for any embarrassment caused," Noé pledged, sincerity oozing from every syllable like the melted cream dripping from those many plates of tarte tatin that had caused all this, haunting him like a spectre of emotional vulnerability and latent sexual awakening, "I shall have to go back to the tailor about this."

Of course, it wouldn't be gentlemanly to be seen running around in such ill-fitting garments. Maybe then, Vanitas could concentrate on things other than his companion's weight, and how it showed on his body. Even if he'd so rarely get to see a sight like that again.

"The stitching holding the buttons in place must be of very poor quality if it just snapped off like that," Noé pouted, the utterance causing Vanitas' mind to nearly short-circuit.

Had Noé not felt the relief of pressure around his gut? Had he not seen that beautiful, tantalising outline of his glutted tummy in the now taxed coat? Had he not realised he was so stuffed that walking a few streets and up the stairs to their rooms had left him short of breath, stomach so full it pushed on his diaphragm and lungs?

A good person - a good friend - may have told the truth at this point. Kindly informed Noé that his habits had marked him and his figure, at least so the man could be aware and decide what to do from there.

Vanitas wasn't a good man, he'd proved that many times before. Compared to his past sins, what was one more? And one so minor at that.

"Yeah," He choked out, a little high but tone as normal as he could coax it to be.

"If the buttons are that badly sewn, they shouldn't sell it."

[kinky-pen]

Snacks at the Office (Pt. 3)

Rating: Teen and up / Mature Pairing: KyoHaru Contains: Weight Gain, Public Stuffing, Public Teasing, minor Intox, minor Burping, Obesity, Clothing Malfunction, fat!Kyoya, feeder!Haruhi, dom!Haruhi, sub!Kyoya Summary: Kyoya and Haruhi attend the gala, excited for the copious amounts of food and the chance to parade Kyoya around like the prize pig he is. After, Haruhi takes care of her stuffed, bloated and tipsy beloved during the car ride home. Part One | Part Two

Kyoya bit his lower lip as the car pulled up to the gala, Haruhi and he resting shoulder to shoulder in the back seat. He could feel the rumbling of his stomach as the driver went to find the closest parking space, Haruhi not wanting him to tire himself out by waddling too far when they first arrive. And he will be waddling still, if only a little - only noticeable if you're truly looking for it...

He will be waddling when he leaves, however; stuffed to bursting with whatever and however much food Haruhi puts in front of him during the event. He handed her the reins with enthusiasm, and he knows she is well aware of both his boundaries and the society around them, but Kyoya's always had a bit of a rebellious streak. He likes pushing and testing limits, seeing what he can get away with, and this was just a natural shift from there.

Kink was freeing, letting Haruhi take control and give him exactly what he needs - pain or pleasure - and now he could have his own amusement here. Any talking behind his back would just be stupid on the other person's part; both the Ootori family and K.O. Enterprises are simply too powerful to afford any backlash, but some small-dicked idiots will try.

The Hitachiin's words, not his own - cross his heart.

Still, before he simply leaned on his own pride, puffed his chest and arched his back. Now, added to that, there was a smug little voice inside his head that simply chuckled "you have no idea that my wife and I will get off to that later". He had a very happy marriage to a very talented individual, and that beautiful specimen will be feeding, teasing and pampering him whilst getting wetter and wetter from the thought of everyone seeing how married life is "suiting" Kyoya Ootori.

It's a perverted little thought that he can't help but enjoy.

On top of the pleasure, the smugness, there's also the powerplay involved. Yes, between Haruhi and himself, but also between himself and his fellow associates - although not sexual on that side. It's a reassurance that he isn't that too-thin boy, having to strut and flip on a tightrope for his family's approval, to not bring them shame, and keep all the important players around him happy. Now, he's a man with both feet planted firmly on the ground, allowed to take up space. Encouraged, at that.

The car comes to a stop, and Haruhi exits first. She's much more nimble than he is, a couple hundred pounds lighter, and is insistent on giving him the prince treatment. She adores taking care of him, spoiling him, and every single inch of his stretch-marked and fat-dappled frame attests it, even if the vast majority of the population can't seem to conflate the two.

Haruhi opens the door wide, and it takes Kyoya a little rocking and a lot of blushing to stand, but he does so with some of his grace intact. Even if he could feel how his trousers could only be secured by a hair-tie, the creaking buttons of his taxed shirt, and knows that there is no way in hell the jacket slung over his shoulders can even reach around his soft, fluffy gut. He remembers how he looked in the mirror, hips only in frame when standing quite a ways away, thighs far beyond mere "plump", and touching even when he stands with his feet far apart. He remembers how the sweatervest - a last minute substitution for yet another piece of clothing outgrown in mere weeks - hugged and exacerbated the rolls at his sides, how it made him look so big and plush.

He was not escaping this without comments, but the fluttering in his chest wasn't really fear. It was excitement.

"Ready?" Haruhi asked with that sweet, guileless smile that won the hearts of so many in Ouran, his own included, and Kyoya replies with a softer, more rounded-out version of his smirk.

"Of course, my dear," He practically purrs, linking arms with her and allowing his darling partner the pleasure of pressing against him, "Let's knock them dead."

-*-*-

Kyoya may be, in fact, the one knocked dead by the end of the night.

The benefit of a buffet is a near endless supply of food, to both tempt and arouse the both of them. Haruhi slips easily through the crowd to the spread, holding both her plate and his, leaving Kyoya at the table to talk business, pleasure and personal at the appropriate points. Of course, not to be left as set dressing, Haruhi interjects whenever she's at his side, one of her hands finding the still-soft side of his underbelly as she wows everyone with her knowledge.

Kyoya keens at both the heavy-petting and the competency, always had, but manages to keep all sounds internal and show nothing of the hot, coiling arousal on his face. Because isn't that the game? Half of the thrill is in the hiding of such blatant sexual and sensualities.

He eats all Haruhi puts in front of him, like her good boy, her precious kitten fattened from too many treats and bowls of thick cream. His perfect, indulgent owner. He wonders if he still fits in his collar, he knows that the belt his (not-plug) tail came with has no hope of looping around his fleshy hips.

Not that it matters when he can whine about it and get all the pampering he desires, and an extra stuffing to boot. God, how this is ruining him, and God how he knows it'll ruin him further.

There are, however, a few factors to worry about this evening.

Firstly, the amount he eats. Whilst Haruhi has the reins, he'll trust her judgement implicitly. As previously stated, it would be a petty and stupid thing to bad mouth an Ootori, but the display can't be uncouth or obviously voyeuristic. Meaning: Impeccable manners at all times, Haruhi must be subtle when it comes to things like groping and belly rubs, and dishes have to be somewhat spaced out.

Perhaps not as much time between these make-shift "courses" as other people demonstrate, but Kyoya has made it his mission to swell his capacity along with his figure, and it hits him like a train whenever Haruhi allows him to "go hungry".

Secondly, and importantly, his clothing. Already tight, he has to be careful of clothing malfunctions that would cause a scene, stir or scandal. He can tell his gut is testing the buttons of his shirt, can feel the soft wool of the waistcoat through the now-widely gaping fabric, but no one can currently see it, which is key.

At the moment, only he knows it's there, like how only he and Haruhi know that his trousers could only fasten under his corpulence, and with a hairtie at that. If he focuses on it too long, he knows he'll start aching for Haruhi's stimulation, to shift his hips and grind against every evidence of the meals and desserts he's overindulged in over the past... Since before. But he can't, because decorum.

Thirdly, and pressingly - quite literally... The combination of the chair and the table. They aren't bolted like fast food diner chairs, obviously, but there's only so far he'll be able to move his chair back whilst still disguising the obvious, and the chair itself...

Putting it plainly, the chair itself is a very tight fit. No arm rests to get stuck in (thank heaven for small mercies), but he can feel how the chair is unsuitable for a man of his "stature", and holy fuck is it turning him on. These aren't exactly made for only svelte men, either - he's simply that fat. That obese.

A sensible man may take it as a sign to slow down. To not stuff himself and hold off on the feedist scenes for a while, re-establish an equilibrium.

Kyoya Ootori is sick and tired of being a sensible man and, so, will be doing no such thing. He makes it evident to himself when Haruhi returns with the seventh plate of the evening, not piled high but certainly not empty either, and he tucks in. Again, with as much restraint as a good piggy can, but maybe too plainly enthusiastic, nonetheless.

Haruhi meets his eyes with a spark, and it's like they're the only ones in the room. It's always been like this for the pair of them.

Not long left, but plenty of food, and neither are ready to quit such an intriguing game just yet.

-*-*-

The car picks them up at just a little past midnight.

Kyoya, true to his word, barely manages to waddle to the car after leaving the hall, holding a hand underneath his stuffed stomach to try and ease a little of the weight. Haruhi had climbed in first, greeting the driver with a polite "good evening" and then saying... something that went passed him in a blur.

After managing to sneak a, frankly, absurd amount of food into him over the course of the evening without the other guests noticing, Kyoya had been weak when she set down the wine. Red and fruity, it went down smoothly, leaving a pleasant warmth in his chest. So, he drank as much as she had given him, and here he was; stuffed, bloated, and pleasantly hazy. The electric lights against the dark sky are, probably, the second prettiest thing he's ever seen, and fuck, he has to remember to paint this one day.

There's a small, electric whir as Haruhi puts up the privacy division, and clicks on the mute button for their section of the car. Kyoya tilts his head a little, but Haruhi just chuckles.

"Come one, Shadow King," She entreats, holding out her hand to help him into the car. He takes it, stumbling rather gracelessly into the backseat besides Haruhi and pressing a hand to his mouth to stifle the air attempting to escape.

He feels like the back of the car dips with his weight, and the thought comes to him with that same warmth heading lower, beneath what can most charitably be called paunch and the rounding out from the feast. In all honesty, he feels wrecked despite not having climaxed once all evening - or maybe because of that fact. Kept on edge all evening despite Haruhi's hand not going lower than his shelf of a gut - what a pervert.

He laughs a little at himself - but warmly, nothing near cruel - and Haruhi's eyes sparkle in the low light of Tokyo city lights zooming passed their window. He's just overcome by how much he loves this person.

Then, Haruhi is on her knees before him, gently - oh so gently - smoothing a hand over his churning stomach. He doesn't know if she can still feel the vibrations of it, considering just how fat he is now, but he knows he's proved himself her good boy - and not just tonight.

Haruhi lifts up the overfed heft of his gut, and only has to pull a little on the hairtie securing his trousers for it to snap completely. Kyoya swallows air in an attempt to stay somewhat dignified, but he just feels so unbearably full.

"Come on, Kyoya," Haruhi soothes, starting the belly rubs in earnest after throwing the broken elastic over her shoulder, "It's just me... Let it out..."

He's never considered himself a slob, but the overfull belch releases some of the tight, tight pressure. He flushes from his temple, over his plump cheeks and to his fat-hidden jawline, but Haruhi looks at him in the same, awestruck way.

"Don't hurt yourself for propriety," She lightly scolds, lifting up the now-confining sweater vest and surveying the widening gaps between the buttons. Well-tailored, strong thread - it's not as easy to pop as off-the-rack models, and Kyoya feels it almost like bands cutting across his rotund midsection. Like restraints.

Haruhi should feed him until his fat breaks a belt one day. Or bed restraints.

"Well, you have been so very good," She rumbles in response, and Kyoya's both too tipsy and too far into subspace to even care he said it aloud, let alone come up with a good response.

"Can you feel it? How you have to spread your flabby thighs just to make room for your belly when you sit now?" She teases, finally giving in to his droopy-eyed, near-needy look and rubbing at him through his spilled-open trousers, "And that was before you gorged yourself tonight. Do you want to know what I heard when I went to the bathroom, after bringing you your... What? Sixth plate of food?"

Kyoya nods eagerly, letting himself pant and moan with the knowledge that they're in private now, feeling how the chub rolls under his chin and around his neck is starting to almost squish with the simple, everyday motion.

"There were two Ouran girls in there, who were host club goers," Haruhi elaborates, coming up to bite and lick and suck at the crease between his double chin and neck while continuing to paw at him. She can only just manoeuvre around his stuffed form, he'll be too fat for that very soon, "They couldn't believe how different you looked. You used to be so thin, baby... You had a tiny waist, you had sharp collar bones, you had a thigh gap..."

She mumbled it all between kisses and hickeys, between delicious strokes.

"Look at how ruined you are..." Haruhi smirked, pulling back and gazing at him, his rounded cheeks cupped in her hands, "Look at how I ruined you."

With the wet cloth of Haruhi's suit trousers pressed to the skin showing between the buttons of his ill-fitting shirt, how her hips ground down on the soft flesh there, Kyoya knew one thing:

He felt nowhere near ruined.

[kinky-pen]

Hey dude! How've ya been? Haven't thought about MHA in ages but man Repair Problems was so cute and hot~

Thank you! Chubby Kat was a request I just couldn't ignore, even though it took me ages to actually fulfil it! (And that lack of time management is why I will never do commission work!)

I have a few things I want to try and write before the year's out, but... we'll see ig

[kinky-pen]

Indulgent Stress (pt. 3)

Rating: Explicit Pairing: KyoTama Contains: Weight Gain, obesity, mutual gaining, daddy kink, sub!Kyoya, dom!Tamaki, Belly kink, Belly Play, Teasing, Cumming Untouched Prompt: I don’t know if Kyoya actually paints or if it’s just part of the metaphor in “And so Kyoya met him”, but for a prompt, I was thinking if Kyoya would paint a ”Rubenesque” painting of a fat, half-naked Tamaki like some well-fed god of youth and beauty (something reminiscent of the classical painting “Venus at a mirror” by Peter Paul Rubens). Of course it would be hard to concentrate on painting when your ravishing, rotund muse is so distracting… A/N: Short and a little rushed, lol. I was given this prompt literal years ago, and it's just been sitting in my ask box, so… Sorry requester! Have this ig! Disclaimer, I've never written about cumming untouched before, so that may come across… Enjoy regardless! Part one | Part two

Kyoya loved painting.

He found the ability to express himself through the medium relaxing, any messy thoughts transferred from his mind to canvas. Then, there was the tranquillity of playing with light and shadow, mixing the colours and playing with new mediums.

If he had to label his style, he'd say he goes for the surreal a fair amount. Not really figures, or portraits, or landscapes. But Kyoya was nothing if not a perfectionist, and perfectionists grow their skills as much as they can. So he'd asked Tamaki to model for him.

In all fairness, it hadn't been without ulterior motives. Tamaki was beautiful, always had been, and having something to immortalise that was appealing. However, it was Tamaki, and so he really should have expected this situation...

Standing at the easel, already half-hard, as his plump, gorgeous lover did his level best to rile him up.

Tamaki was sat on the chaise lounge he often occupied when joining Kyoya in the make-shift studio, nearly nude bar some strategic fabric covering his lap. Really, his belly probably would have covered anything lewd, but he looked so angelic with the soft, white folds of silk.

He was reclined back, resting his soft cheek on his hand, the light from the window emphasising the dimpled flesh of his flabby arms. His thick, cellulite-covered thighs were apart, in order to comfortably make room for his fluffy gut, still rounded out and gurgling from lunch. The position of his head drew attention to the double-turning-triple chin beneath his buried jawline, framed by the soft, golden waves of his hair, which he'd grown out a little in the past couple of months.

In short, Kyoya was gay. Incredibly gay.

He was drawing on inspiration from Rubens, of course, but the soft curves of Venus were simply no match for Tamaki's own god-like abundance. Like a young, beautiful Dionysus lost in the pleasures of good food and wine - even if his features lent more to Apollo.

Focus. Tamaki did always have a way of making his mind race, as much as he could quiet it to a whisper.

Tamaki was happy sitting there, however. Not only had Tamaki repeatedly insisted that he was more than happy to help his love with anything, Kyoya had also provided him with a side table teaming with snacks to keep him sated. Even if he was still full from lunchtime's feast, he got whiny without the option of something to stuff his face with. Tamaki had just learnt that, with nothing to do, why not spend it eating?

Kyoya swallowed against the dryness of his throat. He loved watching Tamaki stuff himself into bliss and out of the newest size in his wardrobe. Until buttons popped and trousers refused to be done up.

"It's just so flattering, mon amor!" Tamaki enthused with a dreamy sigh, cheeks puffed up from the profiterole he was idly chewing. He carefully - oh so slowly - licked the chocolate from his fingers as the other hand caressed the thickest roll of his lower belly, obscuring a good portion of his lap, "Of course my beauty would inspire such a talented artist as yourself, but it means so much for you to ask!"

"Well, of course," Kyoya coughed into his fist, face on fire, knowing his pallor would make the red vivid against his skin, "You have such lovely features..."

"And a luscious figure," Tamaki grinned, plump and dimpled hand skimming lightly over rolls upon rolls, cupping his generous breast. Fat spilled from between his thick fingers, too big to be fully contained, and Kyoya swallowed harshly.

Not only did it bring so much attention to Tamaki's swelling moobs, as vulgar as that term was, it also emphasised how even his fingers had gotten fatter. They'd already had to upsize Tamaki's engagement ring (and his own, a voice in the back of his mind reminded).

Kyoya was more than happy with that, however. Tamaki had apologised profusely, saying that he didn't mean to get too fat for the most special possession he owned, but Kyoya had simply jumped him - reminding Tamaki of a massive benefit to the fat-swollen digits as he'd nearly screamed and cried, bedsheets woven in his grip and nearly driven to biting the pillow.

Kyoya loved that their indulgence, a kink Tamaki wore so blatantly on his body, had caused that. It was more for him. More thigh to grind against, more belly to ride, thicker fingers to stimulate and curl inside him.

He'd be a hypocrite, anyway. Tamaki's habits had rubbed off on him some - more than some, actually. His shirts had strained, and his trousers had split seams, and here he was fifty pounds heavier himself. He had his own soft belly, the start of flab on his thighs and arms, and a plumper ass for Tamaki to play with.

When the other man had turned the tables one night, held up forkful after forkful of moist, calorific gateau, Kyoya had obediently opened and swallowed.

"I thought you were supposed to be painting my beautiful visage?" Tamaki teased from the creaking seat, watching as the hand not holding the paintbrush had cupped Kyoya's own muffin top.

Kyoya shook his head, trying to forcefully chase away the thoughts, the licentiousness Tamaki kept bringing out in him. He resumed his brushstrokes obediently, releasing his chub and using his wandering hand to wipe the small sheen of perspiration on his brow.

Diligently, he observed and recreated, eyes darting from the canvas to his model, and back again. It seemed each time he looked back, yet another treat was in Tamaki's grip, held to sugar-cream-chocolate glossed lips, reddened from the prince's tongue darting out to lick up the messily spilled calories.

Couldn't have them going to waste on his pretty face, when they could be dimpling and swelling his figure further, after all. God, what a beast Kyoya had turned him into; as beautiful and he was ravenous.

"Did you ever think I'd look like this for you, darling?" Tamaki smirked, and Kyoya had to try very, very hard to not streak a stark golden line down the full length of the canvas.

He took a breath to attempt to still the hammering of his heart, and looked over at the love of his life once more.

"You, spoiling me so fat and lazy," Tamaki sighed, "I was so tiny when we met. Even in the host club, surrounded by all those sweets and cakes, I gained only a few pounds, nothing more... And now look at me."

Tamaki shook an overflowing handful of flab, watching the rippling of his bare flesh, how it all moved and jiggled, how it warped the silvery stretchmarks that were painted over his belly, hips and sides, also present on his thighs and arms. The movement of his belly also jostled his chest, soft breasts bouncing; and just that small amount of movement also drew attention to the plumpness of his upperarms, the draping flab dancing.

Kyoya could feel the aching want - no, need - coiling lowly in his own padded gut.

Then, the hand stroked over the dome of Tamaki's gut, filled with hearty food and sweet things that would only help him outgrow yet another wardrobe full of clothes, before venturing further down. His light touch skimmed over the bloat caused by his casual, lazy gluttony, over his still pliable lower belly that he played with for his own amusement at Kyoya's ever increasing lust, and to the sheet covering what little of his thighs that weren't shielded by his "paunch".

"I was so nervous, you know? When I started getting chubby... I thought that my body was most beautiful the way it was - yet I couldn't stop eating! I was so stressed, and my boyfriend made me the sweetest, fluffiest cakes and treats, which made me feel so much better..." Tamaki continued, Kyoya's eyes glued to where Tamaki's wandering hands slipped under the silk, the blond's head rolling back with a sigh as he idly stroked his cock, eyes drooping to prettily-lashed slits, "Then you just erased all those doubts. I never thought you'd love me less, but that voracious side of you, mon ami... How you climbed on me, how you rode my growing gut, how you made me pin you down with my weight and begged me to sit on your face... Nothing like the ice king everyone always thought of you as. And that side of you, my dear Kyoya..."

Tamaki paused to chew and swallow another bite of pastry and cream.

"Look at what it's done to me ~"

Kyoya came with a strangled noise, everything too much. He'd only just brushed the front of his trousers, featherlight, but he could feel the tell-tale feeling of hot, sticky wetness, and knew Tamaki saw. He saw Kyoya's slackening jaw, how his glasses had fogged and slid from his nose - just a little. How his hair clung to his forehead in that debauched way.

And there Tamaki smirked, still languidly touching himself, knowing that only those words and his actions could turn that "Shadow King" into the perverted, drooling mess before him.

"Come on, Darling," He purred, "You still have a portrait to paint."

[kinky-pen]

Repair Problems

Rating: Mature, but just because this is kink Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: KacChako, mentioned KamiJirou, past IzuOcha (very briefly mentioned) Characters: Katsuki Bakugou, Ochako Uraraka, Shoto Todoroki (briefly), (mentioned) Denki Kaminari Contains: Weight Gain, Denial of Weight Gain, Outgrown Clothing, Clothing Malfunctions, Mentions of obesity CW: Small mention of C-PTSD and Child abuse, Past Eating Disorder, Uraraka has some minor internalised issues with her kink. A/N: This is also in the same universe as Pretty Piggy, just so you guys know, but can 100% be read as a stand alone. Enjoy! Summary: The washing machine was out to get Katsuki, he was sure of it. His clothes were tight, or just wouldn't fucking fit! He'd even called out a repair person to come look at it and see why this was happening to him. Turns out, it's not the washing machine, and he somehow gets a date out of the whole embarrassing experience... (Inspired by this)

“Come on… Damn you… Fit already!!”

Katsuki finally gave up the ghost, huffing and puffing as he lay flat on his back, jeans still nowhere close to done up. He’d finally called someone to fix the damn washing machine which shrunk all his clothes in the first place, but now he had to find something half-presentable to wear for the repair person to show up. 

Granted, he could just put on a pair of sweatpants, but the issue was that he’d worn his last pair the day before, and after a lovely dinner by one of his housemates, the seams had actually split. Not just one either; both the waistband and the inseam. 

No one else’s clothes seemed to be too badly affected, which was just sod’s law in action. Well, if Kiminari’s ass could stop growing for a moment, then maybe they’d go in the washer more frequently. Ever since that guy started dating, he’d really blown up into a blimp. Sure, the dinners he made were tastier than ever, and it wasn’t like he gave a shit about how much Pikachu weighed, but he hated that he seemed to be the only one inconvenienced. 

Fuck the pants, he can just go steal some from the Melanie Martinez wannabe down the hall – they were about the same size. He just grabbed one of his t-shirts from the draw, baggy in that fashionable way he liked, only to baulk when he put it on. 

It wasn’t baggy. In fact, it was… tight. Fucking washing machine, ruining his clothes. 

Whatever. Instead of blowing up over it (well, he was visibly pissed, but he wasn’t screaming), he decided fuck it, and just stomped down the hall to half-and-half’s room. It wasn’t like seeing him in a tight shirt and boxers was a big deal, considering the shit roommates walked in on each other doing all the time. 

He’d deny it to his dying breath, but before knocking on the incredibly plain door that separated Shoto’s room from the hall, he did stop and take a breath. While it was unusual to visibly see the guy affected by… pretty much anything, really, it became rather obvious that Shoto hadn’t had the best time in life so far. And, fuck, Katski may be an asshole, but limiting triggaring behavour around Split-Dye was something he should probably do. 

Didn’t stop the e-boy in question from pissing him off, though. 

Speaking of bad dye-jobs, Shoto opened the door sweaty and in his athletic gear, towelling off the worst of the perspiration from his forehead. “You okay?” Was the monotone question Katsuki was greeted with pretty much immediately, face impassive despite the heaviness to his breath. 

“Yeah, just fine,” Katsuki huffed, “Stupid dryer wrecked my jeans, and I need to borrow a pair.”

A ginger eyebrow raised, head cocked to the side like a goddamn puppy, voice holding a slight touch of confusion as the other boy questioned, “From… me?”

“No, from porky pig in the other room, of course you!” He snapped, “Repair person’s gonna be here in, like, twenty minutes tops, and that thing’s ruined pretty much every article of clothing I have. We’re the same size, so needs must - even if I’m gonna look like I fell out of TikTok.”

That fucking expression just intensified, and Katsuki was only prevented from walking out and just staying in his room while the damn thing got fixed because he was the only one who could function like an actual adult and get this shit done. Hence, borrowing the clothes.

“Why d’you keep staring at me like that, Coffee Creamer?!”

“Because… we aren’t the same size?” Shoto replied confusedly.

“Need your eyes checked?” Katsuki groased, “Sure, you’ve been upping the workouts lately, but you do more cardio than anything. You haven’t gotten that jacked -”

“No, I’m still the same size,” Shoto cut in, “We aren’t the same size, though.”

“... Look, I know your bad at communicating and shit, but you’re making no fucking sense, so I’m gonna need to to change how your phrasing it,” Katsuki spelled out, arms crossing over his chest and hip cocked to the side.

“You’ve gotten bigger.”

…

What?

“Fuck off!” Katsuki barked, teeth bared, “I’ve been the same size since I was sixteen!”

“Until recently,” Shoto shrugged, “Then Kaminari took up cooking since you’ve been working overtime at your internship. You don’t have time to work out with me anymore, and when you do have time, you’re recuperating from work. Not to mention when you get stressed, I’ve noticed your portion sizes increase.”

To add insult to injury, Shoto was listing these points off on his fingers, which just gave the whole statement another flavour of mocking in Katsuki’s mind. Like this shit should be so incredibly obvious. And maybe it was, since the apartment spacecase had seemed to notice something Katsuki had failed too. 

Not that there was anything to notice!

“You need to stop watching conspiracy videos,” He grumbled, “Puts you in this weird mood, and you connect all these fucking dots that don’t even exist -!”

“Fine, I’m sorry I made you upset,” Shoto interrupted, hands up in surrender, “I never said it was a bad thing. If eating’s helping you feel a bit happier and calmer, then that’s fine. Besides, being the same size as you were when you were sixteen probably isn’t that healthy when you’re turning twenty five in a month’s time.”

He huffed, turning away from Shoto and crossing his arms over his chest. He could feel his face burning from embarrassment, the idea of gaining weight and not even noticing. Of course, this was Shoto, so it wasn't like Katsuki put a lot of stock in his observational skills, but... Ugh, it would make sense...

"Then how come you're the same size, halfie?" He muttered, not really putting much behind his words as he did. not. care. Really. He didn't.

Shoto simply gestured to his sweat-soaked workout gear with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh."

Yeah, Katsuki felt a bit stupid.

“C-PTSD things,” Shoto shrugged, “I’m working on my mentality surrounding... putting on weight, but I’m not ready to confront it like... that."

And yet here Katsuki was, not even realising he'd apparently eaten himself out of his entire wardrobe. God, he felt like crawling in a hole and dying. Even icy-hot noticed.

"Fair..." He awkwardly mumbled, before half-heartedly ending the conversation and stalking back to his room. It couldn't be that bad...

---

It was that bad.

Katsuki had the urge to kick the scale across the room, smash it in half and then not eat for a year. He'd gained fourty pounds in a few months. In high school, that wouldn't have happened in the first place with how religiously he checked his weight, but if it had...

God, he still remembered the stomach pains. The cramping from laxatives and ipecac. No one had ever found out, Katsuki had dragged himself out of that pit with the same grit and determination as he did everything in his life, but now...

No. No, never again.

He huffed, eyes leaving the once shiny surface of the scale, which had developed a fine layer of dust from neglect. Instead, he made eye contact with himself in the mirror.

Looking now, he could see it. He hadn't had defined cheekbones since he was in the double digits, his face naturally rounder, but this was chubby. His cheeks looked... soft. Squishy. Pinching them between his fingers, he confirmed it. They were pinker, too, and his complexion clear and bright, less pale. There was a little padding beneath his jaw, too. You couldn't call it a double chin, not yet, but the beginnings of one.

He stood a little straighter, hands moving from his cheeks, skimming over his neck (a little thicker, tendons less visible), and cupping over his chest.

There was a joke around his friend group about his "Double Ds", which had been muscle paired with his thin waist. Now, he could definitely see that moniker being true. He'd still been weight lifting - it helped mitigate his stress - so he'd not lost any muscle. With the extra fat padding them out, they looked...

Katsuki couldn't believe he was even thinking this, but he looked kind of... good.

He brought his hands from his tits pecs to the main offender of the day. His stomach.

Gut, more like.

Sure, it wasn't massive. He wasn't suddenly six hundred pounds or some crap. But Katsuki had never had much pudge on him, not even as a little kid. He'd eaten like a bird his entire life, by design, but now he'd indulged.

Despite being what he deemed "better" and "recovered" for years, he hadn't recuperated such an appetite before. He loved cooking, but Kaminari's was so rich and tasty. It was butter instead of low-cal spray, it was sugar, it was heavy cream.

Katsuki could definitely pinch more than an inch, though. He had a handful of flab, jiggling it a little, and it was almost like lightning hit his stomach. Low. His breath stuttered, and he did it again.

His belly jiggled. Jesus, he had a belly. It wasn't flat with abs, it curved out, squished into rolls when he bent over and moved around. It prevented his jeans from closing. Years ago, he'd have been horrified, probably hurt himself pretty badly over it. Now...

Why the hell was he turned on?

It wasn't just his tits, wasn't just his belly, wasn't just his face. It was his arms, still muscular and strong but with even more heft with the cushioning. It was his thighs, thicker than ever and testing the seams of his pants. It was his ass, which looked almost fucking biteable, even to himself.

Katsuki had never been so into his own body. Sure, there was that little voice in the back of his mind - the one that would never go away - freaking out about this. However, there was more of him - no pun intended - that wanted to stay in the bathroom, playing with his tummy, thighs, arms and pecs, all day...

---

Katsuki had spent an... unknown amount of time in his room, since his not-so-little discovery. He'd been trying on some more of his clothes in-between sessions of jiggling and playing with his new paunch, feeling its weight and heft.

A few trousers could only be buttoned under his slight overhang, he discovered. Sweatpants were... bearable, even if they either rolled down or were tight enough to make his muffin top really stand out. The gym shorts - only one pair, and he'd only worn them to the gym during the height of summer - encased his thighs and ass far too tightly to be considered polite.

Not that Bakugou was ever considered polite, but he'd like to not end up on a list if he can help it. Not only that, but the tightness only seemed to emphasise his new... pleasure in his body.

In the end, he went for his used-to-be-big cargo shorts and his baggiest shirt. He could borrow a shirt from Kaminari, perhaps, but the guy was pushing a 5XL, and Bakugou was nowhere near that - new weight or not. It'd be like a fucking dress and, while his tits could definitely pull that off, he wasn't interested.

But at least he was dressed and half presentable for the repair person, because not even ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.

He'd forgotten to cancel.

Fuck.

---

Ochako had not been having a great day so far, when she rang the bell for her next job. Between issues that turned out to be more complex than she first thought, to tittering grandmothers asking when the man was going to turn up, to just the usual dicks you come across in any customer facing role... She was spent.

Still, last job of the day, and it was a servicing call. A dryer shrinking some clothes. Basic as can be. However, what she hadn't expected as she tried to whisk away the thoughts and longing to just go home and sleep, was the man who opened the door.

See, Ochako had a bit of a thing for chubby guys. Before her and her last relationship split amicably, she'd probably put close to seventy pounds on his frame. She just loved to spoil and feed, to lay her head on a full, soft tummy and forget any troubles she might've had.

The blond in front of her was a little on the tall side, but not by much, and had a very handsome face. Brown eyes that looked almost red in the yellow light of the hallway, chubby cheeks and the beginnings of a double chin that just begged to be plushed out.

Then, there was his body. Obviously muscled, but fat rounding out the harsh edges, making it all look so inviting. Thick arms, sturdy thighs, plump tits balanced on a rotund gut. A little overhang even peaked out from below the hem of his taxed t-shirt, making her mouth dry.

So, sure, she hadn't been on a single date in seven months and had been masturbating a bit too much to be "normal", but she needed to get her head in the game. Sexy guy or not.

"Hi, I'm here to look at your dryer!" She chirped, eyes resolutely fixed on his eyes and away from the tantalising flesh.

"Oh, uh, come in, I guess," He grumbled, holding the door for her but getting out of the way... as much as he could with how narrow the entrance to the apartment was.

"Thanks."

---

Ochako had to admit, after the shit-show that was the rest of the day... she'd needed a job like this. Easy - on paper at least, the issue was taking a little more work to find than she initially assumed, but that was fine. Not only that, but the guy who'd met her at the door - Bakugou, was very insistent on not being called Bakugou-san - kept popping in an out to offer her drinks, and some of the best cookies she'd ever eaten.

"My baking's better, but Pika- Uh, my roommate's been improving a lot lately," He'd shrugged, tugging down that too-tight shirt over the pudgy swell of his stomach once again.

That was another thing all together! Now, Ochako really wasn't some pervert who just ogled any overweight person she happened to come across! She tried not to listen to that very small voice in the back of her mind that whispered "I wonder what they'd look like another fifty pounds heavier". She wasn't some hopeless person who only thought of chubby and fat people as vessels for her own sexual gratification!

But Bakugou was very handsome, and she was only human.

She finished up her cookie before going back to the semi-disassembled dryer, wracking her brain for the next possible issue to check out, but Bakugou stayed in the room. He was almost... awkward, perhaps? Biting at his lip as he kept fiddling with his shirt.

And nearly killing her with a peak at the trail of blonde hair leading down past the boundary of the overtaxed waistband of his black sweatpants, curving along the plush roll of his little overhang. It was a tiny overhang, really, barely graduated from just a thick roll, but god did that little voice yell at that. Though that was by the by.

"Listen..." Bakugou began, "I... Uh..."

Ochako stopped what she was doing for the moment - thank god for autopilot - and looked up at the man. She hoped her expression was at least a little encouraging - or, at least, not obviously horny. She could live with not obviously horny.

"I actually made a mistake in hiring a repair person. I... Fuck, this is so humiliating!" Bakugou continued, a growl tinting his words, "Turns out my clothes weren't shrinking like I thought, I just put on weight and didn't notice, because I'm apparently a huge moron!"

Oh. Oh, wow.

The admission was straight out of something she'd read to touch herself to... The frustrated, embarrassed flush to his chubby cheeks... How that barely-there double chin, with his head tilted down as he stared at the floor, was accentuated. All she had to do was keep her calm and -

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

FUCK!

"... Excuse me?" He bit out, eyes wide and mouth set in an expression she couldn't quite name. She was so, utterly fucked!

---

"That took longer than expected," Shouto frowned, obviously fresh from the shower, head tilted like a dumb dog as Katsuki entered their cramped living room, having seen Ochako off.

"Yeah," Katsuki sighed, still minorly shell-shocked.

He took another cookie as he set the plate back down on the coffee table - where it practically lived, just getting restocked with some sweet treat or other when it was empty once again. It was a pretty good batch, however; soft and melt-in-the-mouth. It crumbled apart as he bit into it, and he brushed the crumbs from the stretched-out t-shirt that started all of this.

He took a breath, trying to find the confident, boasting tone he'd usually use for a moment like this. However, it just came out like a question:

"I just got a date?"

[kinky-pen]

What are some feederism based headcanons from another fandom that's been on your mind? (Besides Ouran of course. I just like how you characterize these anime dudes with this kink. There's a fat boy in them somewhere~)

Okay, so I'm going to do this for a few Bungou Stray Dogs characters that - I feel - would totally be into this. After all, it seems every character I picked has some history of starvation/poverty/being underweight, so hey! Weight gain as healing for everyone involved!

CW: Feedism (duh), a small mention of consensual non consent in Dazai's feeder headcanons, mentions of pred/prey in Atsushi's feeder headcanons, mention of burping in Akutagawa's feedee headcanons, mentions of immobility in Ranpo's feedee and Poe's feeder headcanons, mentions of kidnapping kink/very slight CNC in Poe's feeder headcanons.

Osamu Dazai

Feeder

Loves the encouragement of his feedee so much. Will slather on the praise of his lover's new figure, as he places down more for them to eat. It's also refreshing for him to spoil someone - both having the money and the want to do so. He doesn't need to be candid with his words, necessarily (old habits die hard), he can just get them more yummy food and lavish that expanding waist (ass, thighs, chest -) with attention.

Actually a big fan of stuffing sessions where he and/or his feeder are drunk/high. Not obscenely so, he still wants enough faculties to be able to react if anything gets taken off the table, or if a safeword is used. Isn't mad if a little CNC play works its way into the scene, his feedee playing up just how out of it they are, how they can't stop eating/drinking/smoking, how it'd be so easy to just do whatever he wants to them.

Loves going out and ordering the whole menu, he's such a voyeur in that regard. Loves hearing people talk about him and his feedee, knowing they'll be gossiped about when they leave, if not right behind their backs. He wants to show off how much his cute little piggy can eat, how sweet they look while fat and bloated. He wants staff and regulars to remember them from last time and be shocked at how much weight his feedee continues to pile on between visits. He loves imagining what it would be like for his feedee to get so wedged in a booth seat by their own greed, that they need help pulling them out - or if they broke one of the chairs in front of everyone, unable to hide any clothing malfunction caused by the fall as they struggle to simply sit up around their usual corpulence, and the bloating from such a heavy meal.

Feedee

Such a tease. He's sending his feeder pictures and videos, trying on his too small clothes and sending the whiniest captions with them - "They won't fiiit :((( I'm getting tooo faaat :(((" - but his love for his new, big gut is all too obvious when he gets distracted during his little fashion shows, jiggling all that soft fat and just playing with it, smile barely shown over the great (if subtle) shot of his growing double chin.

His bodytype is certainly a bit tummy-heavy, will grow a gut before anything else. I always think of that scene in Wan where he stuffed himself (thank you author, we all say in unison), and his tummy was just!! so bloated and cute!! That, with those chubby cheeks and a pretty pair of tits <3 Although, when the rest of him starts to plump up, it really is a sight to see! His belly will always be the star, however. (His ass is always a bit flat, however, poor guy)

His gain isn't what one would call speedy, but is definitely steady. He's never been too good at eating regularly, but with a feeder sending him reminders for meals (and snacks in between), or simply stuffing him themselves when they so desire, he's not backsliding any time soon. It starts slow, getting him to a healthy weight whist making sure he's getting minimal adverse effects from - what is essentially - the refeeding. That refeeding appetite really did come for him, though! So awfully hungry after so long without, with a lover so keen on watching him indulge all of his cravings, he spent a full week almost constantly eating, lasting no more than twenty minutes without something to snack on in his hands. Getting heavier just felt so nice, feeling so firm on the ground, yet his body getting softer and jigglier with every meal - meals turning to feasts. (Underweight to feedee pipeline, my beloved)

Chuuya Nakahara

Feeder

Cooks for his feedee himself, uses only the best ingredients. He isn't half-assing his spoiling - not in this house. Will slave over that stove for hours, will make anything he can from scratch. If his feedee wants takeout, that's fine (he says with the world's most sour pout), but he wants them to eat good food that only he can provide, more than mass-produced shit - more calorific/fatty/greasy or not.

Attentive, always ready to switch up a scene if needed. Goes hard core with the feedings and sex, but is more than willing to stop or adjust the plan. Will tease if his lover can't finish the stuffing (Chuuya's "aww, poor baby" line really lives in my head rent free), but at the same time he's moving away the plate, wiping away any sauce/food remnants from their lips, making sure that any buttons/waistbands aren't constricting their bloated tummy too painfully.

Loves showing his feedee off in tight clothing - yet fashionable, not obscene or showing too much skin. The button popping and seam ripping is for his eyes only, thank you! He does love a rounded belly in a nice waistcoat, or bodycon dress, however. If his feedee is inclined to wearing dresses, he loves those silk ones that drape themselves over roles and tummies and make his lover look like Aphrodite. If they aren't, then tailored fashion is the go-to; no hiding in baggy hoodies and sweatpants, he wants everyone to know he's with the most attractive, outstandingly beautiful person in the room. (Possessive like a guard dog, this one lol)

Feedee

Is also a tease, but in the vein of "Jesus, this is what's getting you off? Really? You want to cum just because my waistcoat is a bit snug -" (Read: missing several buttons and the remaining will definitely not be able to reach the holes) "Fine, at least you're open about what a freak you are."

Short chubby guys <3 Chuuya gets very pear-shaped. He's got a little thickness on his arms and legs from muscle, and so they get pretty thick when his weight really starts ballooning. Hey, he loves alcohol and good food, and now he has a lover that completely gets off on it, he's not going to limit himself anymore. His waist does nip in a little from the front, but that's more to do with his bottom-heavy frame than anything. Love handles for days, too! That's not even mentioning the thighs!

He also grows pretty quickly, eats himself out of sizes nearly as soon as he buys them after a few months of gorging. He's gotten so many stretch marks - especially around those wide hips. (Someone called them birthing hips - RIP Port Mafia goon, even if Chuuya was taken by surprise by how turned on that made him). Had to replace so many clothing items, the only thing that still fit after a year or two was his hat, his fingers and wrists too fat-swollen for his gloves, and his neck and double chin too cumbersome for his cute cross-tie and choker.

Atsushi Nakajima

Feeder

A bit of a nervous feeder. He takes more naturally to the general admiration than he does stuffings or anything like that, especially as he worries his paycheck simply isn't enough to spoil a feedee like they deserve. Once that nervousness gets soothed away, however, he's a soft, encouraging sort, giving praise and belly rubs freely and with the sweetest smile. To put it bluntly: Service top feeder who is also more than happy to have the script flipped and act as submissive.

Has an affinity for grinding. Loves rutting against plush thighs or a swollen belly, feeling how the soft fat rubs against him so perfectly, coming undone by his partner's gluttony-kissed body. The most perfect thing he can imagine is getting to fuck his partner's thighs, one hand yanking his hair and the other guiding his hips, refusing to let him just rut with abandon. Also wants to kiss every new stretch mark and inch that's appeared on his feedee's figure, mouth at their supple flesh and feel it give under lips and teeth. He really, really tries not to bite - he just can't help it sometimes.

Something that came as a big surprise for all parties involved - especially himself - was that he's very a bit into pred/prey. Not in a literal sense, of course, but the idea of his plump (read: very fat) feedee stuffed to the point they can barely move, waiting for the inevitable as he prowls around them in circles, almost able to scent their anticipation, unable to separate faux fear and arousal. He thought it was tiger instincts acting up at first, but uh... No, he's just into it. Will have to negotiate it extensively however, if he even divulges it in the first place, as it is the darkest of his fantasies. Beast!Atsushi, I am obsessed with you.

Feedee

I'll be so upfront: his embarrassment and horniness go hand in hand. This boy blushes scarlet at any mention of his weight, his tummy, any clothing malfunctions - and, being pale, it shows up so vividly. Still, he's absolutely squirming in his chair as he stutters out half-baked explanations and excuses for the new padding, thinking of how proud his feeder would be that all his workmates can see - and comment on - their work.

He's also a bit belly-heavy at the start of his gain, but not as much as Dazai. I do think Atsushi is a little more muscular than the art style suggests, at least after being with the agency for a few months, given the feats of strength we witness without Atsushi relying on the tiger. With more calories, comes some more muscle, and so for the first year it really starts to give the appearance of "traditional-strong-man", mixed with some "ex-jock bod" vibes. His chest is amazing, let Atsushi have some pretty tits to balance on that hefty gut too. His hips are wide, but his shoulders are getting there as well, and he starts actually loving how he looks in the mirror. Also, his tiger form is so chonky! No one at the agency is immune to chonky cat.

Another steady gainer due to his food insecurity appetite. He loves having access to snacks and big meals, someone encouraging him to cut loose and enjoy it? Well, he's eager to show them he can get as big as they want. It does slow a little, given how active he is and all the agency work he does, so a lot of the weight does get put into muscle - as I said above. His gain does look so good on him, though! His outfit is just A+ for a feedism angle. His trousers just look so lovely when he's all filled out, showing off those shapely calves and squeezing across widening thighs and ass. His belt digs into his tummy, and after a certain point, the belly hang just goes over the belt and waistband. This, of course, shows off the gaping buttons of his white shirt, his bellybutton visible through the stretched fabric and it all framed by his suspenders. He does have to get rid of the belt when he gets too fat to do it up on the loosest setting, even under his tummy, of course, which he blushed about for several days. He's just so good at being a fat kitty.

Ryuunosuke Akutagawa

Feeder

Comes off as demanding and impassive to some, difficult to impress, because of how neutral his expressions are, but he is definitely affected by even the littlest thing his feedee does. He's staring whilst his feedee pulls down their shirt, or at a small sliver of visible overhang. His mouth is dry at any gaping buttons or clinging fabric. He doesn't mean to come off cold, he just has trouble verbalising - he's also silently thinking of all the things he can do to his feedee whilst in the bedroom. Totally a submissive feeder too, loving to be bossed around and have that extra weight used against him.

Pin him against a wall with a big tummy, crush his head between waddle-causing thighs, put him in a headlock with thick, plush arms and tell him what a freak he is. I mean, total stereotype - thin little slip of a man with a fetish for luscious figures? How predictable, Ryuu. That's it folks, being kink shamed is this boy's kink! He also does actually get off on being treated roughly, because he has the security of a safeword and the knowledge that, if he wants to stop, it will stop as soon as he asks. Rewriting trauma with bdsm is close to my heart, can you tell?

Loves when a feedee gets so fat that the furniture complains. Chairs are good, hearing the wood or metal creak and groan under growing corpulence, but sofas? Beds? He wants to hear how these everyday items just can't keep up with how fat his feedee is getting. Wants to see broken scales, too! Not just error readings, but cracking plastic. He'll say about how maybe they should slow down, how they're really indulging themselves and "you still want to be able to walk, don't you? Or, waddle, I suppose..." Really, if his feedee wants to keep getting fatter, he's more than happy to keep going. Very enthusiastic about it, actually.

Feedee

Any weight that does manage to get put on his frame (not for lack of trying) gets pointed out and exploited immediately. Will book it straight to his feeder when he notices, and will point it out as soon as he's in the same room as them. On occasion, this has happened whilst other people were in the room too - oops. He just gets a bit excited by it, and wants his feeder to know he was a good boy and praise him for the weight gain before it all drops off again

Does not put on weight, or keep it, easily due to a slew of conditions and co-morbidities, but will do his absolute best. His feeder should be comfortable with just seeing his stuffed tummy and a bit of pudge, rather than substantial, sustained gain - but hey! We love feedees of all kinds here. Got really happy when he got a tiny belly hang, gets excited if he manages to go up a single size, let alone the time he managed to get up to an L (it was a tiny bit loose, but no one was going to correct him). He points out all the little changes he has to make, and it's so cute. His face might not look outwardly excited, but you can see the stars in his eyes and the delicate flush, high on his slightly softer cheeks.

Very eager to please whilst being stuffed, but it takes a lot of time to work on his capacity. He does try and rush things, tries to keep a blank face as he tears into the usual snacks at the office as if they personally offended him - which they did by making him so full so quickly! He swears that he's barely keeping up with the portions of his coworkers, and he's trying to get fat. The whole thing makes him very pouty, but he obviously tries to school it because he doesn't want anyone else to notice. He also holds in any whimpers, overfull hiccups and burps to the best of his ability, as it embarrasses him that so little food can cause such an effect on him, which probably isn't helping the capacity issue. He does look so cute on his back though, flushed as he tries to assure his feeder that he can keep going, but those burps and hiccups keep breaking through and chipping away at his blank demeanor.

Ranpo Edogawa

Feeder

Honestly, he's going to be gaining right alongside his feedee, with the amount of snacks he keeps around the place and the fact he has very little self control around them. It might have started off as accidental, but he's going to be a little shit about it now that the dynamic is settling in between him and his feedee. "Are you sure you want this? I can just eat it all and make you watch ~" Is super encouraging and sweet when he's not angling to get more treats than them, however. "No, you don't need to worry, our clothes are just too weak to contain how cute we are!"

Something that really gets Ranpo going is having to negotiate a make-out session around stuffed, bloated tummies. Both him and his feedee, so beautifully full that all the rolls have smoothed out into an almost dome-like gut, even if both their underbellies are still soft and squishy, and how they'd have to position themselves just to get to each other's lips, bellies pressing into one another so they can feel how overfull they each are. He wants buttons to have popped, or t-shirts to be unable to cover the both of them, so he can feel he and his feedee's warm, stretchmarked skin and the rumbles underneath.

Loves making a competition out of the feeding; seeing who can eat more, whose wardrobe is closer to malfunctioning, who has to push their chair out/undo their trousers first. Of course, if he ("The feeder, remember? I just like getting fat with you!") wins, his feedee is going to get an even bigger feast. To try and even the playing field, of course! The more you eat, both in amount and how often you do so, increases capacity! And if the feeder is still stuffing more than the feedee, is still fatter than the feedee, is outgrowing clothes faster than their feedee - well, something needs to improve, right? He can help though, as he's obviously the expert around here!

Feedee

Totally aims to destroy at least one article of clothing per feeding. He's an impatient feedee, he just wants to get so big so quickly, is that so much to ask for?! It's not like he needs to go out and fight and run and all that stuff, he's good just using his brain, thanks! That means that, to him, the sky's the limit with his weight gain. If he has to solve all his cases for bed, barely able to see over his rolls upon rolls of heavy fat, then that's fine by him! Also, he's so catboy coded, I definitely have been thinking about How To Spoil Your Cat since I read it!

Gets the fattest out of all the agency members, without a doubt. In fact he'd really love getting so incredibly fat, he'd masturbate while thinking about becoming immobile frequently. His thighs and hips fill out first, and he goes to stretchy waistbands (for work) almost as soon as his other trousers get too tight, knowing he never wants to lose the weight again - he loves getting fat too much! He does keep wearing button-ups and such whenever he's treated to a stuffing, as he gets off on it too much to just wear stretchy things all the time. He eats so much throughout the workday, however, that he needs the elastic waistbands and stretchy jumpers to just try and remain semi-decent.

Gains the quickest out of the cast, too! He just loves to constantly eat, and eat, and eat! Before it was just his love of tasty things (he was never particularly skinny, even before he discovered this facet of himself), but now there's so much more to it; he loves how he looks as he gets fatter and fatter, he loves how his big belly feels as he plays with it (and how it starts sitting heavily in his lap), there's the sexual gratification! On top of all that, he can get even more of this newfound gratification by indulging even further! It's just this beautiful cycle of constant snacking, even more confidence in his body, the sensual feeling of silky, succulent fat on his frame, and how horny it makes him. He loves how, sometimes, he gains so much in such a short timeframe that it completely throws off his balance! He's getting less and less used to heaving all of his obese self around, so it's going to feel weird to have to readjust his balance and centre of gravity around his new gains! Maybe he's really not so far off from his fantasy, after all.

Edgar Allan Poe

Feeder

A sugar daddy style feeder! He loves knowing that his feedee is getting so fat off his dime, and it's not like it's putting much of a dent in his fortune considering his attitude towards purchasing that expensive manuscript. In fact, he'd challenge his feedee with that; spend enough money on feasts and stuffings that he'd notice it missing. He might be outwardly shy, but if he trusts someone enough to be in this sort of relationship, then they are being made aware of his sordid fantasies. He wants to see the fruits of their work together, proof of empty takeout containers and before-vs-after comparisons. He'd get his feedee to measure themselves before and after too, for a non-arguable metric of how big his money is making them.

While he adores soft, in person stuffing sessions, he actually gets really turned on from being updated remotely. He loves the thrill he gets from having his feedee send him all those dirty, perverted things over the phone. Whether he's writing in his room (if they still have separate accommodations), or he's supposed to be working, he just can't help but get hard as a rock as soon as his phone pings with another photo, another video, another notification from his bank telling him that his darling managed to spend $300 on UberEats alone. He likes knowing that they're getting a delivery, knowing that the only exercise they'll be getting that day is waddling from the bed to the front door, and back again. Then, that builds some beautiful tension for the inevitable belly play video he'll get. How long will it take his baby to inhale all that food this time?

Part of him loves the idea of his feedee becoming immobile, being too fat to ever, ever leave him! I feel people really forget that Poe's canonically a yandere, because he's so cute and sweet, but he just really loves the reassurance of his feedee never running away from him - because they physically can't! Yes, he knows that this isn't really a "morally good" mentality, but he can't help how hot under the collar it makes him! He'd dote on them 24/7, bring them all their favourite books and movies, make sure that they never get bored! He'd keep them lovely and clean, attentively tend to their still-growing body to prevent sores and general discomfort. And, of course, he'd get them all their favourite foods. Constantly, in fact, keeping them so stuffed that they can always feel it, so they're constantly reminded of how good they are for him! Of how much he adores them!

Feedee

Similar to Atsushi, he's a very shy feedee for the most part - a little paranoid to what people are thinking about him and how much attention he's drawing. He doesn't get turned on by public humiliation, however, very much the opposite. But once the door is locked and he's at the table, hands bound behind his back and spoonful after spoonful makes its way into his mouth and down his throat, belly straining against the bonds around it, he's in heaven. He's so hard and so amazingly full that everything else melts away, usually noisy brain dulling to a repetition of "so full, feels so good, want more".

Poe has the squishiest cheeks. The weight gain really softens his features, which is surprising to most. No more sharp cheekbones or harsh jaw. He has a pretty flabby tummy, doesn't really get that big gut look, unless he's absolutely stuffed. He does get an amazing ass, however. He doesn't get particularly huge, because of the issues mentioned above and just a general lack of interest, but he does let himself get quite chubby. Tiny little tits, but it's honestly really adorable how sensitive they are!

Gains in stops and starts. He's surprisingly good at packing on weight, due to how sedentary his job tends to be, and he loves to just graze on a multitude of snacks throughout the day. However, as he doesn't want to get too big, there'll be periods where he takes breaks; whether that be to just maintain for a while or knock off some pounds for the joy of regaining them. He gets so many stretchmarks this way, but he thinks they actually look rather pretty on him (he gets the silvery, shiny ones more than the vivid pink ones), and the only one who'll ever see them is his feeder - who also thinks they're pretty - so he's fine with it. Sometimes, when he gains back the weight, he does end up a little bigger than before, sometimes he wants to stop a little sooner than planned; his feeder gives him all the comfort and encouragement as that's a 100% valid way to be a feedee, and his comfort is always a higher priority than the kink aspect of their relationship.

[kinky-pen]

Do you have any headcanons for HaruhixKyoya? Thanks in advance

SFW

Another of the more drama-free pairings, although there's plenty of instances of those outside of the couple themselves who'd like Kyoya's disadvantageous pairing to sputter out and burn. Surprisingly, however, both parents in the picture approve, even if Yoshio and Ranka barely - if ever - see eye-to-eye.

Another surprising turn of events, they actually manage to help each other relax. Kyoya knows what it's like to stay up several days in a row to finish a project or report - both during school and for business - so he wants to avoid anyone he loves going through that as well. Haruhi also understands the importance of a first impression, but sees no point in bending over backwards for strangers - or moulding oneself into something they aren't. They balance out each other's flaws pretty well and want the other to have healthier habits.

Academic power couple, who then graduate to become powerhouses of their own careers. Turns out having someone so supportive and capable in your corner can really amplify your own abilities - who knew?

Prefer indoor dates, liking low-key hangouts and study dates the best. They do like a smattering of cafe and restaurant dates also, of course, but they're happiest curled up together on the sofa, reading and listening to music.

Another couple who I feel gain relationship weight, outside of a kink scenario. They are both canonically big eaters, they both love gift giving and acts of service, they both get a little tummy after dating for a few months.

NSFW

They both love each other's androgyny. Kyoya loves how he has a pretty girlfriend who also doubles as a pretty boyfriend, and Haruhi loves Kyoya's long lashes against his soft cheeks. They're both minorly obsessed with the genderfuckery of it all, aesthetically and sexually.

Jumping off that, Kyoya goes fully heart-eyed when Haruhi pulls his hair and calls him a good girl. Her best, most beautiful girl, who deserves all the rewards and treats. Kyoya dressing as a cat girl - who said that???

Kyoya is very much a pillow prince, and Haruhi loves the absolute control she has over him in the bedroom. How she can drive him mad with just her hands on his hips, stopping his movements so she can set her own languid, torturous pace as she rides him. How she can make him babble and beg for more whilst being fucked within an inch of his sanity, or his perfect lips wrapped around her strap as he looks up at her with glossy, tear-filled eyes.

Kyoya read so much erotica and straight-up porn so he could learn how to eat her out well. He wants to make her so happy, wants to prove how good he can make her feel when he wants to take a more active role in the bedroom, however much they both love him being her little toy. Let's just say he was a good study!

Kyoya loves feeling sexy for his girlfriend, dressed up in lace and garterbelts and bows. Has a slight kink for being her pretty housewife, even if he does work long hours himself in reality. Haruhi loves unwrapping her little present after a long day at work, absolutely ruining him until he sobs into the pillow. They then cuddle all night as she relaxes after getting some of that stress out, and Kyoya nuzzles into her as he floats in that pretty, brainless headspace it brings out in him.

[kinky-pen]

Merry Christmas! Hope you're doing well dude B]

Merry Christmas and happy New Year!

Doing well, I'd say. Hoping to get a few projects done (or, at least, added to) here over the next couple of months! Hope everything's going well for you, too!

[kinky-pen]

Do you have any nsfw headcanons for Mori x Kyoya... based on your earlier nsfw headcanon post I think their sexual dynamic would be really interesting

Okay! MoriKyo is close to my heart, and I wish we had more content for them - both sfw and nsfw, so I'll do a few headcanons for each.

SFW

The most drama-free pairing in the entire host club - the entire series. They settled into cute domesticity so quickly, and they both have the emotional intelligence to sort things out without the huge dramatics. They're already an old married couple.

Mori loves picking bouquets for Kyoya when he goes hiking. Sometimes, however, he doesn't know when to say enough is enough, and so every available surface of the apartment gets covered in vases of flowers.

Honeymoon period? More like honeymoon relationship. They never really lull when it comes to physical or spoken signs of affection. Anyone who doesn't know them is going to assume their a new couple - even nearly 10 years into their relationship like my wife and I

Would probably get married the quickest of any couple in the host club. Not only do they love each other and are just generally really compatible, but their families are more than happy with the match! The Ootori's are such a powerful family, and the Morinozuka's are great allies - especially as they usually come with the Haninozuka's as a buy-1-get-1-free sort of deal.

Prefer to stay in for dates, as opposed to going out. They like curling up with a movie, or reading together, or just talking. They're still making time for each other without work, so it is still totally a date.

NSFW

Mori's favourite thing is hearing Kyoya in the midst of pleasure. His keens and moans, the half-demands for more that just come out as whines and begging. The loves his serious, near-stoic boyfriend being so loud and wanting.

Kyoya loves how easily Mori could overpower him. He puts up a playful little fight sometimes, just to feel bruising around his wrists and a large hand around his throat. It's too good to fight back anymore after that, however, and so he's left grinding up against whatever part of the other man he can get to - his thigh, his hip, his abs...

I think a big kink of theirs would be pet play, Kyoya being the cutest kitten for his loving owner. Mori's natural service top manner really comes out with that sort of scene, giving his sweet pet treats and letting Kyoya rest in his lap and on top of him.

Despite deeply respecting each other and their schedules, knowing they have time-sensitive deadlines and need the most respect from those around them... these horny fucks are both the type to send each other lewd stuff while working. It doesn't even have to be full sexting or nudes, just little suggestive things.

Although, Mori has opened a voice note in a meeting and has thrown his phone across the room as a moan echoed from it. Yep, just like the meme. Hikaru showed the meme to Kyoya and the little shit was curious as to what Mori would do. The answer? Kyoya couldn't walk for a few days... Or leave the bed, as he was very tied up. He really enjoyed it lol.

[kinky-pen]

Big Bimbo

Rating: Mature Pairing: HikaHaru Contains: Bimbofication kink (sort of), Weight Gain, Chubby kink, Clothing Malfunction, Button Popping, Obesity, sub!Hikaru, dom!Haruhi, Bratting, mentions of Immobility/Mobility issues. Summary: Hikaru loves being a dumb bimbo for his girlfriend. He also loves that he's eaten himself out of his tight little shorts, but he's not just going to admit he has.

It had taken so long.

Hikaru will admit that, since crossing the 500lb mark, he'd gotten extremely lazy. It was just so much work to get his bloated, heavy, blubbery body to do anything, and he just couldn't be asked.

He was just too obese and hot to be forced into taking the stairs, when most buildings had perfectly serviceable elevators - even if he did get some stunned looks from other people hoping to ride. He was too corpulent and cute to be made to walk more than a street or two, huffing and puffing all the way, when he could be sat on the couch, gaming and eating bag after bag of snacks, rubbing at his blubber with cheeto-dusted fingers as his tummy refused to be covered by his shirt.

His figure was one that demanded attention and pampering, swelling him up even bigger and breaking any "normal" scale beneath him. Not that he could see the screen anymore, not with all the fluffy paunch in the way. Still, Haruhi liked seeing it on occasion, and the cracks in the plastic during the last weigh in on that scale was just the cherry on top of the sundae...

... Fuck, he could go for a couple pints of ice cream about now, loaded with chocolate and cookie dough. Probably good timing, honestly. It wasn't that unusual anyway, lunch had been a good hour ago, and his hands were grabby for something more to stuff with.

Still, he was proud he actually managed to do it! And what was "it"?

"Oh my God, Hika, are you kidding me?" Haruhi huffed, lips quirked in mirth at the scene in front of her and cheeks red, "I can't believe they got passed your fat thighs."

"I don't know what you mean," He answered, doing his best to play the unaware little idiot, "These still totally fit."

The shorts really didn't.

Hikaru looked a sight. His immense thighs were fully out, showing off angry, red stretch marks which only displayed the speed at which he'd eaten himself to a quarter of a ton. They were hot pants, after all, but even so, the seams on the sides were pulled as taught as you could imagine, fraying open at the widest, plumpest roll of his hips and settling below a truly impressive muffin top.

The crowning glory, however, was the undone button and zip, which allowed his vast gut ample space to spread and droop over the denim. From the front, you could barely tell he was wearing anything at all, hidden by the soft heft. He had something of an apron belly, but honestly, when you reach a certain point of fat, gravity just makes it droop no matter what.

"Oh, really?" Haruhi challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, babe. It's not like I've put on much weight, after all. Still sexy as ever," He teased.

Both of them knew that was a lie, not even the biggest idiot could be so blind that they didn't realise they were over 500lbs. Especially not when they couldn't even tie their shoes without their engorged tummy getting in the way. But, it was the idea that got them both off; a pretty little dummy too braindead to notice hundreds of pounds of fat piling on their frame.

"Well, then why are your shorts open, babe?" Haruhi asked with a toothy grin, "I don't think you can get them buttoned over all this belly."

She stepped forward, grabbing thick handfuls of his flab and shaking them. For a moment, they both just watched the ripples, the rolls bouncing, how the stretch marks around his belly button moved and stretched. Hikaru couldn't help but be so incredibly hard at his own body, the evidence of his laziness and gluttony. Haruhi felt the same and, if he knew his girlfriend (which he did), she was probably thinking about all the way she could get off on just his lard-filled stomach - never mind his fuckable tits, his waddle-causing thighs.

"That's just the style I'm going for," He excused, "I could close them if I wanted to, Haru."

Haruhi just gave him that condescending look that set every part of him ablaze. Like she wanted to take away everything that could make his poor little brain overwork itself. Like all she really needed him to do was sit, game, and get even fatter than he was now.

"Whatever, I just wanted to get a little snack, because it's been way too long since lunch and I'm hungry again," He explained, waddling over to the fridge.

"An hour is too long?" She laughed, but he could feel her heated gaze on his massively overfed ass.

He made sure to give her the best view of it possible as he bent at the waist, searching the freezer for the fully loaded ice cream he knew was in there. His belly hang hit his knees, but the denim cradled the swell so nicely, pushing it out a bit further than it'd naturally go. It'd been months since he was able to see his feet at all, even if he pushed down and squished at his lard, but to see it push out even farther was so incredibly attractive.

"Ugh, why is the bottom draw so far away," He lamented, spreading his legs apart wider in an effort to get a little closer to his prize. That was, actually, not for show - he wasn't lying about it being too long from lunch, and he really wanted his ice cream.

He wanted nothing more than to bloat up even further with sweet, thick cream. Put away so much and then still act like he had no idea why he was so big - like he didn't think he was big at all.

"Maybe because you're getting too fat to bend down, now?" Haruhi offered, "Oh, but you said you haven't gained weight. Right, fatass?"

Hikaru shuddered. He couldn't help it, he adored Haruhi allowing herself to bully him. It'd taken a lot of conversation, and now he was enjoying the fruits of it all. It didn't help that the shudder caused his rolls upon rolls to jiggle even more, aware so keenly of his girlfriends love of how much of a pig he was.

He'd be a prize one, after all. One that broke records. Haruhi's blue ribbon piggy that just got more and more lard filled each time he was seen in public.

"That's right!" He asserted, "But... Can you get this for me? It's way too much work to bend over so far."

Again, not really a lie. He was huffing and puffing, a bit out of breath, just from the mere task of getting himself more to eat. How fucking hot of him.

Haruhi did, with a cluck of her tongue that managed to be both sympathetic and degrading. He backed up a couple of steps to allow her access to the freezer, he was much too wide for her to simply reach around anymore.

"I wanted a couple of pints of that new ice cream we got," He informed, hands rubbing at his belly as it grumbled in anticipation, "The one with cookie dough and chocolate chips."

She did as she was asked, handing the cartons to him with a spoon. He weighed up the pros and cons of eating it on the sofa, but all that time spent waddling to the living room, when it could be used for stuffing his plump face even further, wasn't that appealing.

"Let me guess, the shirt was also a crop top when you bought it? And it's totally not stretched out so much you can't tell what the graphic is even meant to be?" Haruhi pushed a little further, watching intently as Hikaru loaded up his spoon and pushed it through his plush lips, cheeks puffing up even further with the food.

"It shrunk in the dryer," He lied, mouth full of food, tone as obstinate as a brat like him could be, "It's cute a little cropped."

A little was the understatement of the century. That shirt had refused to go over more than his tits for the past month, and now it was showing a little underboob. Fuck, he was getting so obese. A BMI of nearly 80 was no joke, outdated system or not.

Not to mention, he was still gaining. He wasn't going to stop, just because he had some clothing malfunctions and was now too fat for his gamer chair. That's what couches were for, even if theirs let out a dissatisfied groan whenever he sat on it.

Imagine if, one day, he was heavy enough to break the fucking couch. He was already turning into such a blob, might as well go all out. He could stay in bed all day, eating and eating, and Haruhi could use him as she pleased - not like he'd be able to even stand up at that point, pinned down by his own blubber.

He'd just eat and eat until he broke the bed.

Haruhi interrupted his gorging for a moment, barely half way through the first pint, which he was sure to immediately whine about. He was just so hungry, after all.

She didn't answer his whimpers, however, just tugged at the flaps of his shorts in an effort to close them.

"Come on, suck in," She instructed, "If these can close, and stay closed while you eat your "little snack", then I'll agree you're still as "thin" as ever."

Hikaru bit down a grin. Honestly, he didn't think they'd button now, let alone after bloating from the first of his between-meal binges, but hey. He was sure Haruhi was thinking of ways to make this even more interesting.

"Duh, I'm right about this," He assured, but sucked in as far as he physically could anyway.

He looked down as Haruhi tugged and tugged, watching the ripples in his softness, realising that, even sucking in as far as he could, he still had no hope of seeing his toes. His fat was so soft and mouldable, grown from sugar and overabundance, combined with no exercise.

She really was trying her hardest to get that little button in the hole. She grunted with the effort, lip between teeth, and Hikaru couldn't help but associate that with the last time they fucked - Haruhi ruthlessly pounding into him as he could only moan and cry around the gag in his mouth.

"You getting hard isn't going to give me more fabric to work with," She reminded him. Hikaru could only grin at that, admiring how valiantly she was trying, sucking in until the very hidden muscles of his abdomen were screaming for release.

He wasn't uncomfortably hard, but he was definitely getting very turned on at the spoils of his gluttony and indulgence.

With a lot of strength and, possibly, a miracle, Haruhi finally managed to wrestle the button into the hole. There was no hope of zipping the shorts up - tan, doughy fat quickly made sure of that by pulling the zipper teeth as far apart as physically possible.

Slowly, as carefully as he could, Hikaru breathed out.

The waistband was unbearably tight, cutting it almost like a corset, but his fat was eager to spread and expand to other places in hopes of escape. His upper belly was a veritable shelf, pushed up and proud, while his lower belly looked so massively plump. The words "muffin top" seemed too miniscule to apply, everything looking like sausage meat trying to escape its wrapper.

God, didn't he feel like a pig. A dumb, fucking sexy one at that.

"See," He huffed and puffed, feeling the immensely tight fabric almost groan, "Still fits... as good as... ever..."

"And you aren't out of breath from trying to get 2XL shorts to button over your gut?" Haruhi laughed, "You didn't even do the work, you just sucked in."

Hikaru defiantly took a bite of ice cream, determined to earn whatever Haruhi had in mind. It seemed that a small bite was all it was going to take, however.

The button burst off the shorts, Hikaru nearly moaning as he felt the surge of fat and its heaviness as it drooped over the useless flaps once more. He could still feel rippling jiggles, the movement of it all so sensual as the flavour of the sugar and cream glided along his tongue.

This was what he was meant to be, a pretty pig in lipstick and too small shorts, all for his feeder's viewing pleasure. All for Haruhi to fondle, bite and suck.

With her dark eyes burning into him, her lips quirked in a cruel and devious smile, he did what he always did when this aroused...

He took another bite.