Ohohohohhhh man…. Rubbing my evil grubby hands together for this one. Fattening up DC characters, I see you 🤝
This is not a boring request at all I assure you. Quite the opposite in fact 👁️👁️ I kept things simple and sweet while I get into some FatBat content here (or BatFat?? I still haven’t decided), but believe me when I say I am thinking about this so hard gahhhhhh
Cue little drabble under the cut… this one’s got me going crazy I won’t lie
It had started out as a simple bulk and cut at first. Calories in, calories out, and heavy on the exercise when his goal weight had been reached. With you by his side, though, and your hands feeling up his curves and whispering sweet tempting words in his ears… well, as it turned out, there wasn’t much cutting to the bulking this time around, and soon enough, his bulking became much of a ballooning.
Sweeter than the pastries you brought to him from that little mom and pop shop hidden in the city and more addictive than a heavy dose of Poison Ivy’s aphrodisiac, that feeling of your hands on his body—on his ample hips, on his chubby thighs, on the rolls of his belly and around the flabby sag of his soft, drooping—was something even he couldn’t resist in the end. It hadn’t been intentional, going from Gotham City’s finest to the biggest man around, but it was hard to resist with you. You just had a way with words, a way with the kitchen, and a way of drawing him into “just one more bite” that left him pinned to the mattress and begging for more despite the raging war of food already stuffed inside of his belly every. Single. Time.
At first, it had only been a day. It was a couple hours, more like, but Bruce had pushed off the beginnings of a weeks-long intensive workout regiment all the same. Instead, he had opted to lie around in bed with you for a little while while you encouraged him to polish off the last of the homemade goodies you had brought. There were no regrets there aside from the brief disappointment he felt when his fingers brushed across the empty cookie tray, but even then, seeing your smiling face as you assured him you would bring some more over—after he was finished with the cutting part of his bulk, that is—left him wanting to lie there and snuggle you close for just a little longer.
He was technically still bulking in a way, so long as he didn’t start exercising. It was something he told himself over and over again when you returned the very next day with the same cookie recipe, this time having baked twice the amount you had the day before. The extra treats wouldn’t really hurt anything for him to have if he stuck to the original plan is what he had told you while scooping up one cookie in each hand, and at the time, you could only laugh and nod along.
You knew better than that… and secretly, so did he.
One day of slacking off and stuffing himself on everything you brought over turned into two, and two days eventually turned into three. By the end of that first week, Bruce was coming home from night watch looking red in the face and feeling desperately hungry for whatever you had prepared as the midnight snack of sorts (because at this point, you were practically there permanently), and as always, you happily provided.
The latest new routine went on for ages, and with every new dish you made him, his resolve for his slim build and strict diet faded. Now, after months of slacking off in the name of a good bulk, Batman had finally met his match. His greatest rival wasn’t some supervillain haunting the streets and bringing evil down everywhere they went, he realized. No, it was you, with that sweet tongue and even sweeter food pushed past his lips and clinging to his once toned frame.
He was far beyond just a little fat anymore. Hell, he was teetering on immobility. He was stuck with the luxury of lying in his king-sized bed where he took up almost all of the room or being sat down in the comfort of his nearly broken office chair in front of the monitors when he insisted on being “active.”
There wasn’t much action going on anymore—not with him in the state he was now, near immobile and out of breath after a single step in any direction. His gains were all but gone, replaced with layers of pesky fat that grew and grew with every massive meal you prepared for him.
While he was always droning on about finally following up on the second half of his health crunch—the whole cutting part where he took the dad bod of a gut he’d put on in the beginning and chiseled it down into rock hard abs and a godlike figure—he never made any move to step away from the new life he had carved out for himself with the help of your wicked hands and those impressive cooking and baking skills you never failed to boast. He didn’t seem to mind the new look, clearly, even when his old suit no longer fit (and believe him, he had tried… he’d even showed off the results to you in several dozen sexy close-up pictures) and his nightly vigilante routine was all but a thing of the past.
No, Bruce hardly seemed to care about that anymore… and quite honestly, why should he? He was a billionaire after all, and he was a genius. He had connections, he had skills, and he had his ways to keep the streets clean of crime while he did what was most important now—which was, of course, sitting in the comfort of his bed, his hiked up over his massive belly and his fitted clothes barely clinging to his frame, moaning around each bite of that delicious new cake recipe you fed him while your hands worked to fondle every new inch of size on his big, beautiful frame.
The old Bruce was gone, replaced instead by a big, blubbery mass of a man who couldn’t care less about his new looks in the eyes of anyone else. He simply loved the way you fed him up too much, and he loved the way you loved his new look even more.
Immobility was on the horizon with the direction he was headed, but for him, that was nothing more than an exciting path to take. You made as good a feeder as you did a lover, and Bruce loved both things equally, just as he loved them both over anything else.
Let the cutting part of his bulk be damned, because he found something he liked even better… and that something started with you and ended with all of the delicious sweets and recipes you loved to feed him (and, of course, the ones he had yet to try).