In which Sherlock discovers how heavy John was in university
Sherlock couldn’t even recall what he’d been looking for originally. The shoebox filled with all kinds of memorabilia had driven any thought of it out of his mind. John wouldn’t be pleased to find he’d been snooping – all the more reason to do it quickly so he wouldn’t be caught.
Sherlock quickly scanned every single item, but ultimately it was the stack of photographs that caught his attention. The first few images seemed to have been taken while John was still in high school. There were a few group photos of his rugby team and his classmates, as well as a few of John in action chasing after the ball or whatever item was important in rugby, and even a cute one where he’d fallen asleep studying.
Then, after a few pictures showing his graduation, university life was the main focus. John and a stack of books, other people joking and laughing with each other that John had photographed, John and his mates on a night out.
As he went through the photos, Sherlock noticed a clear change. At the start, John was fit, muscular from his time playing rugby. Then, especially what seemed to be following exam periods that led to tired eyes, he gradually seemed to soften.
Sherlock is on a case and decides to experiment with how much a person can gain in a certain amount of time. His test subject: John Watson. He starts taking him out to eat more and more often while they're working and discovers that he finds John's growing figure... cute?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Additional Tags: Weight Gain, post-S3, Chubby Sherlock, Fatlock
Summary:
Post-S3, Sherlock gains some happy relationship weight. Slow-burning WG kink.
Sherlock doesn’t think he’s gained all that much weight until he tries to put on the clothes they met in for their anniversary, and he can’t get his trousers up over his thighs.
just found roundelet’s amazing chubby fanfic prompt generator. omg. I could be here all day. Feel free to use for inspiration:
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Chubby Sherlock, Mutual Weight Gain, John is still a little embarrassed about his weight gain: It's Sherlock who found his family's old recipes but John who's been experiencing the most expansive effects.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Established Relationship, Proposal, Sherlock doesn't know where these 25 pounds came from, Sexual Frustration: John is into Sherlock's recent weight gain. Really into it.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Blind Date, Stuffing, Pining John, Pining Sherlock, John finally notices the softness of his once defined waistline: Sherlock had always known that bigger bellies were attractive and now he can't stop thinking about John's perfect tummy.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Weight Gain, Pining John: John tends to mindlessly snack throughout the day. If Sherlock makes sure there are plenty of snacks around, he's only being considerate, right?
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Chubby John, Out of Shape, Mutual Weight Gain, First Time, Sherlock can take a hint: They have put on a good 15 pounds each since John started culinary school and enlisted Sherlock as his taste tester.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Established Relationship, Jealous Sherlock, Accidental Weight Gain, Sherlock can't zip his coat over his belly: Since Sherlock found that new bakery and promptly went up 10 pounds, it's hard to find clothes in his closet that still fit him.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Chubby Kink: Judging by what the scale said last night, John might be enjoying Sherlock's homecooked meals a little too much.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Hooking Up, Accidental Weight Gain, PTSD: The nightmares still wake him up more nights than not. But then Sherlock realizes that being full, sometimes a little beyond full, helps a lot.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Fuck Buddies, First Time, Sherlock puts on some holiday weight, Body Confidence: Sherlock likes that he's getting fat, but he's isn't ready to flaunt it, so he still sucks in his belly whenever he sees John.
But, sooner or later, seeing as the numbers on the scale aren't exactly going down, he knows he's not going to be able to hide his significant weight gain.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Chubby Kink, being full helps John sleep, Sweet Tooth: Sherlock discovers John's sweet tooth and takes full advantage.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Button Popping, Confessions, a demon curses Sherlock to gain weight, Holidays: Sherlock opens his parents' present only to find pants in a size he's not going to be fitting into anytime soon.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Chubby John, Accidental Weight Gain, Established Relationship, Sherlock loses a button: Sherlock's waistline has taken the brunt of it but even John has put on a few pounds.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Unintentional Weight Gain, First Time, Sherlock's weight gain is obvious in the heavy curve of a belly that had been flat not all that long ago: Sherlock finally acknowledges that he's getting chubby when it takes him five minutes to get his work pants fastened.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Measurement Kink, Sherlock packs on 15 pounds when he finally learns how to relax, stress eating: Sherlock and John are getting married in 2 days and Sherlock is too chubby for his tux.
John, naturally, thinks this is hilarious.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby John, Button Popping, John's shirt is indecently tight, John is not so oblivious: It's getting inconvenient for Sherlock, getting turned on whenever he watches John eat so much he can barely move.
The consequences of John's pigging out, which are getting all the more obvious by his growing belly lately, aren't exactly making it any easier.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Established Relationship, Outgrowing Clothes, Sherlock doesn't believe in not cleaning his plate: John has started to use Sherlock's tummy as a pillow.
John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, Chubby Sherlock, Accidental Weight Gain, Sherlock can't fit into his nice suit: Sherlock doesn't know where these 20 pounds came from. Or even when they first started showing up.
Sherlock comes home one night to find John in bed already, even though it’s only six o’clock in the evening, and John looks at him with eyes that are terrible and says, “I don’t feel well.”
“What do you need?” Sherlock asks, because he would give John anything just now, he would give him anything he might ask for, paracetamol, cold compress, chicken soup, plane tickets to somewhere way far away, anything that would make John not look so small buried in the sheets of their bed.
“I dunno,” John tells him, closing his eyes. “I can’t tell if I’m sick or if I’m – something else.”
Sherlock stands and looks at him and his fingers feel empty. He wants John in them. He wants to get in the bed with him and pull him to his chest and breathe with him and crush their bodies together until he can take whatever is making John less-John-like. He reminds himself fiercely that it is not about what he wants.
He reaches out and brushes John’s fringe back. He hasn’t got a fever or anything; he doesn’t feel clammy. Perhaps a bit over-warm, but that could just be from being under the covers. John tilts his head into the touch. “Anything you want?” Sherlock asks. “You don’t have to need it. You can just want it.”
John gives him a brief flash of smile, the one that says Sherlock has just said something he thinks is particularly charming. “I know it’s early,” he says hesitantly, “but would you–?”
“Come cuddle?”
There’s that smile again. “Yeah.”
Sherlock toes off his shoes and strips off his jacket and his trousers and his shirt. He considers, briefly, putting on one of the t-shirts he wears to sleep in sometimes, but thinks he’d rather feel the heat of John on his skin, so instead he just slips into bed in just his pants.
He slides over to wrap an arm around John’s body. He’s in just his pants too, and the whisper of skin against skin is an immediate comfort. Sherlock nearly pulls him back to spoon for a moment, but at the last second John rolls onto his back instead, leaving Sherlock pressed up against his side, looking down at him. “Okay?”
John nods. “You’re cold.”
Sherlock dips his head to plant a quick, chaste kiss on John’s mouth. “You’re warm.”
“I’ll warm you up.” John shimmies his arm out from between them and together they maneuver into a cuddle, with John’s arm under Sherlock’s neck, sharing a pillow, pressed front to side. Sherlock’s fingers brush over the skin of John’s belly, soothing, stroking. His tummy is not as flat as it used to be, but neither is Sherlock’s, and the extra layer of fat just appeals to something in Sherlock’s base instincts that says healthy and safe and happy and provided for.
Sherlock lays his hand flat against John’s belly, feeling the solidity of him under his palm. Sherlock can’t feel his heartbeat right here, but he doesn’t doubt that it’s strong. John tilts his head over and lands a kiss on Sherlock’s eyebrow. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying with me.”
Sherlock returns the kiss to John’s cheekbone. “I belong with you.”
“I just meant the cuddle.”
“So did I.”
John doesn’t question it. He breathes and breathes and breathes, slowly, evenly. Sherlock syncs the rise and fall of their chests, slowing down his own breath to match, and smooths his hand over John’s belly. Again. Again. There’s a little hair under his navel, leading down to where it will thicken around John’s cock. Sometimes Sherlock likes to follow it, snuffle into it and find the best, richest part of John’s natural smell, but right now he’s content to feel the wiry little hairs under his thumb as he strokes over it, on his way back up John’s stomach.
Up and down, up and down, in something like an oval, Sherlock lays close and breathes with John and rubs his hand over John’s tummy. He likes this part of John. It’s a very human part of John. It demands to be fed, sometimes, and it is a very nice pillow other times, and sometimes it tickles, and sometimes, if Sherlock touches it with the wet heat of his mouth, it trembles with arousal.
Right now though, it just is. Sherlock strokes his stomach, and John lets him, and it isn’t anything more or less than a comforting touch, a solid reminder of I’m here with you, and you are not alone, and you are loved and cared for and adored.
Eventually John’s breathing slows into sleep, and Sherlock very carefully puts his hand over John’s belly where he will feel it if his muscles jump into waking, and then he lets the sync of their lungs pull him down into dreaming, following him wherever John might lead.
Sherlock winding up in a relationship with John and Mary, and rapidly finding out why John put on weight. A year into this arrangement and Mary’s fattened up both her boys; after dinner Sherlock and John usually just lie back on the sofa, belt undone, trousers unbuttoned, more often than not their shirts slipped up stuffed, rounded guts because they’re always in the process of outgrowing their clothes.
John’s got the bigger gut, because all his weight seemed to settle into that thick paunch that dips between his legs when he spreads them, pinning him back into the couch after his third heaping helping of corned beef hash, mashed, and lots and lots of gravy.
Sherlock’s sizable belly is impressive, but the fat’s spread out to chubby cheeks, very round thighs, and fat just generally everywhere. He spends the nights picking at sweets until bed, and generally crowing that John’s “fatter” because he has the bigger belly–as though Sherlock, who grunts when he stands and hasn’t physically chased a criminal in six months–isn’t fat as well.
WG because of a baby (omegaverse, parentlock, etc)
Slow, gradual WG
Surprisingly fast WG
WG while someone is away
Holiday WG (obviously!)
Continued from #3, and whoops, I didn’t mean this to get so long... ;)
They haven’t had a case on in at least a week, but for once, Sherlock doesn’t mind. Not when his current experiment is proving to be so enjoyable.
No, his attention is perfectly occupied watching John react to his new eating habits. After Lestrade’s comments, Sherlock decided there was no need to be covert about his increased appetite. Once they were done at the Yard, Sherlock ordered takeaway and ate three portions of Pad Thai while John watched in astonishment. That was just the beginning.
Since then, Sherlock has filled his days with large breakfasts, larger lunches, and even more indulgent suppers, with plenty of lounging in between. The feeling of constant fullness was odd at first, but not entirely unpleasant. There has been something fascinating about tracking the changes of his own body: he is warmer, a bit softer everywhere. Any extra weight on his frame seems to settle on his belly, although he can tell his arse is rounding out nicely when he examines himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look half bad, even if his belly is starting to get a little bit -- well, prominent. And of course, his clothes are shamefully tight, even his new suit.
Anyway, it’s easier to remain in his pyjamas, snacking on biscuits and lazing on the sofa. From time to time he tries a new tactic: licking his fingers after finishing a biscuit, settling a hand on his stomach. John, always nearby, continues to flush, stutter, and stammer whenever Sherlock does any of these things. Truth be told, it’s driving Sherlock to distraction. And yet John continues to say nothing.
It’s maddening. Sherlock decides to do something about it.
While John is working one afternoon, he orders double their usual takeaway, and eats half of it himself before John even gets home. John returns to find him sprawled on the couch, sated and sleepy, with a seemingly uneaten meal waiting for them on the table. Sherlock watches John, and is gratified to see John’s eyes fix quickly on Sherlock’s belly.
“Dinner?” Sherlock inquires innocently.
John flushes, clearing his throat. “Um. You’re -- hungry?”
“Mmm. Starving.” Sherlock stretches, feeling his t-shirt ride up over the curve of his stomach. He’s had to push down his pyjama pants an inch or two to get comfortable.
John’s eyes widen, and he licks his lips. He can’t help chuckling a little bit. Sherlock finds he wants to hear John say something. He needs to hear John comment, acknowledge what’s becoming obvious.
“What?” Sherlock tugs at his shirt. He hopes it doesn’t look purposeful.
“You, um.” John clears his throat again. His cheeks redden. “You’ve been hungry lately, haven’t you?”
“I haven’t noticed,” Sherlock lies, pushing himself up from the couch. It takes a little more effort than he’d estimated, and he can’t help the grunt that escapes as he sits up. He really did go a bit overboard on that first supper, and he wonders for a moment if this is a terrible idea. But he has to drive John to say something, do something.
“Have you moved from that spot today?” John steps forward, raising an eyebrow, and offers a hand.
Sherlock, much as he wants to take it, waves him off. “Fell asleep.”
“Ah.” John’s eyes fix back on Sherlock’s middle as Sherlock stands up stiffly. It really is rather round, and Sherlock feels drowsy from all the food still in it.
John, flushed as he is, turns quickly and busies himself at the table, cracking open the bottle of beer Sherlock’s left at his place. “Thanks for ordering. I had to take two extra patients at the end of my shift.”
“I’d deduced that.”
John smiles. “Of course you did.”
Dinner is lovely, of course, but Sherlock’s appetite flags when he’s only a few bites in. Even with all his increased meals, he’s really not used to so much food at once. He looks up to find John staring at him, riveted as Sherlock takes bite after bite. That’s all it takes to spur him on, and he polishes off his entire helping of Angelo’s pasta, feeling John’s gaze on him as he eats.
When his plate is clean, his stomach gives a mighty rumble, and Sherlock can’t help stifling a small burp. He sits back, suddenly aware of his tight, overfull stomach, now straining into his lap. He feels positively huge.
“Delicious,” he manages.
John looks as if he might pass out, though not from overindulgence. “All right, there?”
“Might have overdone it a bit,” Sherlock admits, shifting in his chair.
“I can see that,” John breathes, and then catches himself. He gives Sherlock a warm half-smile. “Maybe a bit of telly, then?”
Sherlock nods, managing to ease himself back onto the sofa as John clears their plates. His stomach sloshes dangerously, and he puts a hand on it as he sits down again, amazed at the heat of it, the taut skin. It’s positively -- carnal.
John comes in from the kitchen and nearly stops dead at the sight of Sherlock on the sofa. He blinks at him. “Sherlock. You, um. You look --”
“Full?” Sherlock supplies.
John simply nods, as if words are too much to deal with.
Sherlock’s belly churns again, proving a distraction. He really did overdo it; that wasn’t a lie. Wincing, he puts a hand on it.
John’s medical instincts kick in. “Budge over,” he tells Sherlock, and settles onto the couch next to him. “Now lie back a bit.”
Sherlock obeys, his nerves thrilling with John’s close proximity, but finds it’s not so easy to move with his overfull stomach pinning him down. John’s eyes widen in amazement, but he cringes a bit in sympathy. “I don’t know what’s got into you lately,” he mutters.
“Dinner,” Sherlock deadpans.
“Obviously,” John says, and their eyes meet. Something heated passes between them.
John licks his lips, then exhales, businesslike. “Now, see if this feels better.” He rucks up Sherlock’s shirt and slips a hand underneath it, pressing gently on Sherlock’s belly, prodding the taut flesh experimentally.
Sherlock can’t help it: he groans, more from sheer pleasure than discomfort.
John pulls his hand away quickly. “Sorry --”
“No, that was -- that was good,” Sherlock manages. “Perfect.”
“Oh,” John breathes.
“I think it might -- help.”
Without a word, John slips his hand back under Sherlock’s shirt, gently prodding his belly. It feels amazing. Sherlock’s eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, trying not to groan again. If he had known the sheer pleasure of this sensation, he would’ve gotten fat long ago.
Sherlock also decides that this has to be the most blatant and clumsy seduction imaginable, but since John insists on remaining clueless and stubborn, Sherlock is determined to stay the course.
“What else did you eat today?” John says wonderingly, his fingers still kneading Sherlock’s sore, tight belly.
“Mmm. Can’t remember.”
“You’re lying.” John prods his side gently. “Might be a bit more than a plate of Angelo’s in here.”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
The kneading continues. Sherlock wants to melt out of sheer bliss. John gently works his fingers over Sherlock’s generous middle. “You do realise this... isn’t really like you.”
Sherlock’s eyes fly open. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, eating. You don’t usually -- I mean. You’ve been, um.” At last, at last he rests his hand on the curve of Sherlock’s stomach and gives it a soft pat. “Getting a bit bigger, haven’t you?”
The energy between them is electric. Sherlock finds he can’t look away from John’s nervous, uncertain gaze. John looks worried Sherlock might snap at him. Time to remedy that.
Sherlock shifts on the sofa, then looks down at his belly for a moment. “Hmm. Yes.” He watches John. “I find I... rather like it.”
John’s breath catches. “Oh. I, um.”
“Do you?” Sherlock murmurs.
He waits.
They gaze at each other. John’s lips are slightly parted, as if in shock.
“Yeah,” John whispers.
“Good,” Sherlock breathes, and before he can say anything else, John’s lips cover his in a crushing kiss.
God, finally. Finally. Sherlock can barely think. It’s scorching, too hot for words, it’s been far too long in coming and they seem in danger of bursting into flame.
Finally, they pull apart, breathing hard, Sherlock barely able to move between the weight of his gut and the deep fire of his own arousal.
“Christ,” John breathes, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s forehead.
“Thought you’d like it.” Sherlock tugs John closer, nosing into his neck to kiss it.
John gasps, then pulls back, looking incredulous. “Sherlock. Did you --”
“I conducted an experiment.”
“You --” John begins to chuckle, his hand roaming under Sherlock’s shirt. “You saw that I --”
“Obviously.”
John exhales sharply, shaking his head in disbelief, but his smile is fond. “You figured out a little kink of mine, and drove me mad on purpose, you mean.”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
John’s laughing now. He leans in to kiss Sherlock again, then lowers himself gently so that they’re chest to chest. Sherlock hums in pleasure, but can’t help wincing.
“Christ. Sorry,” John says, still laughing. He pats Sherlock’s gut. “God, Sherlock. You don’t do anything by halves, do you?”
“Apparently not.”
John shifts, and they gingerly rearrange themselves, John sinking down slowly so as not to jostle Sherlock’s swollen stomach. “This okay?”
“Oh, God yes.” Sherlock’s hands cover John’s, still roaming over his middle. “I didn’t intend to -- overdo it.”
“Maybe you should rest.” John pulls back to look at him. “We can continue this later.” At Sherlock’s murderous look, he laughs again. “Okay, okay. But we’ll go slowly.”
“I’ll be -- oof -- fine.”
“Will you now.” John sucks a kiss onto Sherlock’s neck. “Because this is a pretty hefty tum you’ve got.”
Sherlock’s voice drops into a low growl. He shudders happily at John’s kiss. “You think so.”
John chuckles wickedly, gently prodding the tum in question. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a bit of a kink for this too. Makes no sense, you skinny bastard. Although --” He slides lower on the couch, pushing up Sherlock’s shirt. “Not so skinny, are you?”
“Not at the moment,” Sherlock manages.
“Not anymore, if I get my way.”
Sherlock hopes his kiss is a good enough answer. John seems to understand.
I stumbled across this blog by pure accident and now I'm intrigued. I wonder why so many people from one fandom have this particular fetish? No judgement, keep doin' what you're doin'. I may even be back...
As fetishes go, while this isn’t the most common, it’s also definitely not the most obscure. If you’re actually curious, take a look around the internet; “weight gain erotica”, “BBW”, “BHM”, “Feederism” should all give you plenty of hits.
I would be more surprised by this if Sherlock wasn’t so universally popular, to be honest. This is far from a small fandom; if this were a more obscure show, then I’d see your point more.
Maybe I’m simply in too deep to see it. I know several other fandoms that have wg specific blogs, etc. Does it seem that weird to you guys?
Sherlock Holmes is not a hog, no sir, despite his gluttonous tendencies and rather fat figure. If anything, he is a spoiled house cat. Lounging on the sofa, after a very filling meal, rubbing his stuffed gut up and down with both hands, hiccuping contently. His small purple shirt undone to accommodate the size of it. A half smile curls his flushed lips, knowing how much he has eaten, calculating the calories he has ingested and the pounds that will be added to his fattened frame. John walks by to pick up the remote, Sherlock says nothing but sighs and arches his belly up, waiting for it to be rubbed by another pair of hands. John chuckles fondly and does what was expected. “Had a good dinner, Podgy?” Sherlock nodded and stretched lazily, absolutely purring. “Dessert will be ready in a moment. I hope you have enough room in there,” John says, poking the detective’s side. Sherlock laughs a rumbling, belly-laugh. “There might be,” he pats his rounded stomach, jiggling it slightly, “but first, let me take a quick nap. I think I’ve earned it after polishing off that feast.” He burps softly and is lulled to sleep as his Army Doctor continues to massage his fat cat of a consulting detective.
Sherlock had to reenact the murderer’s getaway by crawling out of the suspect’s bathroom window. Unfortunately, his belly wedged in the frame, like a cork in bottle, and John stood outside. “The fact is, you’re stuck, like Winnie the Pooh.” Sherlock took one more attempt to squeeze himself out. “It all comes from windows not being big enough,” he huffed. “It all comes from eating too much during a case,” said John crossly. The detective panted, “It’s not my fault that the suspect makes a mean Banoffee Pie.” John whipped out his phone. “If you don’t get out soon enough, I’ll call the Yard to pull you out.” Sherlock blushed and made more of an effort to heave himself out.
ok so headcanon I have no time to write: John and Sherlock raising John’s baby since Mary is arrested/out of the picture... the baby starting to refuse meals, because she loves Sherlock and imitates everything he does. John persuading Sherlock to set a good example by eating 3 meals a day. Sherlock getting quite the tum after setting a good example fires up his appetite.
bonus: John teasing Sherlock good-naturedly after the baby keeps pointing out Sherlock’s belly.
John complaining that all the weight he’s gained since moving into 221b is going right to his gut. Sherlock squeezing his arse and assuring him that, delightful gut or not, he’s getting fat everywhere.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Additional Tags: Weight Gain, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fatlock, Feeding Kink, pudge love
Summary:
For the following prompt: After Sherlock and John finally get together, the sex is incredible. And so is Sherlock’s appetite. Apparently, the only reason Sherlock didn’t have much appetite beforehand was that he hadn’t had sex for years. Now that he and John are having regular, fantastic sex, Sherlock is ravenous. John is secretly thrilled as he watches Sherlock fill out, and more than a little turned on to watch the effect he’s having on Sherlock.
