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Lately the League has experienced a series of fortunate events. Though their accommodations stayed largely the same, the last months of peace brought with them several quality of life changes.
The biggest change for the League was the gradual increase in their budget, thanks to smart and savvy business deals with a certain organisation. At the time they did not think that this monetary increase would bring about its own set of gradual and noticeable changes. Other than some better gear and equipment, more money meant their meal plan saw a complete overhaul.
New, previously unattainable (by honest means..) culinary options presented themselves. Ordering take-out twice in a single day from the same place was spearheaded by Dabi and quickly became quite common. Cake, a rarity in the past which they could only afford on birthdays with everyone (including the birthday person) pitching in, was now a treat quite affordable and thus enjoyed much more frequently. Last but not least, everyone could finally have their own two litre bottle of soda. No more arguments over that.
This unlooked for period of peace allowed every one of them to enjoy the simple things in life as well. Not having to hurry so much, to dread what tomorrow would bring, and to fight, at least for a while.. it all felt like a breath of fresh air.
Everyone coped with the new situation differently. Some relaxed while others stayed more vigilant. Tomura, after so many traumatic events happening in his life suddenly found himself with a lot of free time on his sixteen hands that he could use to take care of himself. Now he took the opportunity to kick back and relax, and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.
Ever since Spinner showed up with a used console and a heap of games the boss was hooked on playing, day and night.
Though, even after months, having to hold the controller with one less finger was still a pain in the buns. However, after the seventh one got destroyed, (out of which four was due to his quirk) Shigaraki discovered a position that proved manageable. It still required a lot of time to get used to, since instead of flexing his mighty pinkie he held out his index finger instead. These initial difficulties did not put a damper on his resolve to "git gud" and he’s been showing steady improvement.
Tomura was in the lounge room, playing. It was easy to tell his place even on the rare occasion that he wasn’t there simply from the two deep dents in the seat left by his expanded derriere. Indeed, the pale villain has been having his second growth spurt, this time sideways, ever since the period of peace started. Even now there were empty wrappers around him on the couch. It would’ve looked like a battle ground if Toga didn’t force him off his butt to at least take some of it away, usually once it got too cluttered and smelly.
Quite the battle ground, reminiscent of Halloween nights, along with a leaning tower of empty take-out boxes next to his feet, and a two litre bottle of soda of course. Right now during breaks in his play he diligently munching away on some fries, having already eaten the burger. For dessert he had his strawberry shake. He’d rest his hand comfortably on his newfound plush stomach while taking a few gulps, then resume the game.
Though getting fat was a surprising experience at first, Shigaraki wasn’t upset about his expanding waistline, or felt anything about it, really. Toga thought it was cute, Mr Compress always had a few quippy quips about everything, and no one pestered him about losing it either.
There was Twice, that one time, asking Tomura if he wanted to go jogging together. Nothing came of that of course, and Shigaraki enjoyed his junk food as much as anyone else in the household, contributing to their expenses almost as much as Dabi did.
The excess calories settled mostly around his once skinny midsection, as well as his already shapely thighs and buttocks. Due to the extra padding he even thought it was more comfortable sitting around than it used to be in the past.
His once thin face also saw some of the changes happen to it, filling out ever so slightly to give him a softer disposition. It wasn’t all that much, not yet at least, and he didn't see any reason to start making efforts at getting thin again. If he had to, he already had a solution in mind...
But before it came to that, he couldn't help but feel grateful. For once life was good and peaceful, and Tomura was going to enjoy it to its fullest while it lasted.
Like on many other mornings, today he was playing once again, albeit alone, as Spinner was having his day off from video games. Almost every day they played together, joined by the others, mostly as spectators as they passed by. Dabi especially, who not only watched but also invited himself over to indulge in whatever shit they were having to eat.
Shigaraki strongly suspected the fiery villain stuck around only to leech off of them, since the patched up man didn’t even like half the games the other two enjoyed playing. At least Dabi pretended not to.
„Where is that fat ass anyway..” Tomura pondered as he stuffed a handful of soggy fries into his mouth, wiping his hand on his warm and stretchy trousers while chomping away and picking up the controller again.
In his room, Dabi was standing at the end of his bed. The gold haze of the later morning coming through the grungy windows outlined his dark silhouette which was looking rather rotund these days, showing a well-rounded shape of an S to anyone who might have looked inside. He was standing half dressed up, his hefty thighs and bulging buttocks straining his blue underwear while his tattered crop top let his bottom heavy stomach hang out free and unrestrained.
By the impressive collection of empty take-out boxes strewn all about his room it wasn’t hard to deduct the main culprit of his recent expansion. As of late the stitched up villain developed quite the taste for chicken, even if, more than domesticated poultry Dabi would have had game instead, specifically bird of prey every night, if he could get it. Most regrettably, that option wasn’t available for weeks now.
So it was mostly chicken and whatever he could get his hands on. Almost like a vulture who happened upon a trove of meat and leftovers, after prolonged periods of need he was letting his appetite loose with reckless abandon. It took him quite some time to realise he was putting on weight. He was quite obvlivious to it, more so than the others, until one day when his trousers started giving him trouble, and afterwards it never stopped.
From then on the change had become evident and he was reminded of it every single day, from morning 'til night. Sitting down, walking about, crouching, jogging (that last only when he had to). Even simple movements, like tilting his torso, bending this way or that made his newfound and warm fatty rolls creasing and pushing into and against the cold staples holding him together, becoming constant reminders that he’s been getting fat. At least his growth has been a gradual one and his patchy skin had time to stretch out so it wasn’t that uncomfortable.
But right now he did feel uncomfortable, verily. As he stood there he looked like a guy who just dashed after the bus only to miss it by mere seconds, exhausted, breathing heavily, evidently in the middle of doing strenous exercise. After a few more moments of standing still, with clenched teeth and determination he was at it again. He leaned forward, so that his crop top hung low, along with his supple belly.
Gripping his jeggings with both hands Dabi groaned and pulled upwards with all might, causing his blubbery backside to rise like buns in an oven and spill out over the rim of his jeans as it came up to his waist and then got stuck. It’s been nearly an hour and he was at the end of his tether, but he would not stop until all of it was packed into the tight confines of his trousers.
All of it.
Of course it didn’t help that his plush paunch was in the way too. Sucking it in used to help, but for a while now it made no difference. Dabi pushed his forearms into the soft flesh to push it back and give just a little space to make the operation possible. His silky fat partially enveloped his arms like a waterbed as he continued struggling. Week by week, the gap he had to bridge to get his pants closed was getting bigger and bigger.
His new lifestyle truly wasn’t making getting dressed any easier. Eating well, either at the nest or when going out on his own, week by week his stomach stretched out more, thus having more space he could fill up, which he did, effortlessly and without much care or thought. The scarred villain was expanding at a steady rate, until getting changed into his old clothes was becoming a true hassle.
But Dabi was adamant to deny these facts, either his gluttony reigning supreme or him needing new clothes. Even as he stared down at the poor piece of clothing as he was stuffing his enlarged thighs and blubbery backside into it. He did not admit it, wearing his pre shredded crop top, blatantly exposing his plump belly as if his stomach was still flat, and sticking to his beloved jeggings as well. The clothes that fit him perfectly. Some time and many pounds ago..
Finally, after all that struggling and when he felt he’d split at the seams from exhaustion or simply burn it all up in frustration, at last the jeggings were on.
Dabi took a few breaths and looked down to assess the situation. The trousers adhered tightly to his enlarged buttocks, the seams cried for release and his soft paunch was pushed upwards, spilling out even more on the sides as well, enhancing his prominent love handles.
„Good enough.” He thought.
Wiping the sweat off his brow with his tattered top he groaned. At fucking last. It’s been taking more and more of his time to get ready. He was gonna go hang out with Tomura, and did not want to appear like he just now got ready.. At least finally he was ready to go out.
Taking the first steps the fabric creaked ominously. If he were frank to himself, he would admit that lately it has been getting quite unbearable to wear and walk in them. It hurt a lot, but not as much as it would hurt to admit to needing a change of clothing, or bad habits, the fiery villain believed. A few empty boxes got pushed aside as he opened the door and left.
Lazily striding down the corridor, Dabi passed an open door. Hearing the sound of rapid huffing and puffing he cast a fleeting glance to the side to see who has been using the treadmill the League recently acquired. The sight did not surprise him one bit.
Right next to the dusty machine Twice was jogging in place like a mad lad. His skin tight costume was stretched taut and shiny over his potbelly which jiggled up and down in rhythm with his erratic movements. His mask was drawn back ever so slightly and next to him, well within reach sat an open box of doughnuts, half of which was missing.
With nary a thought Dabi deigned to move on, seeing a familiar top hat emerge from another room.
„Too much chicken can be hazardous to your health~” Mr Compress chimed, his voice muffled slightly by his mask as they passed each other by.
„Tell me about it.” Dabi thought, giving only a lazy nod in response and with his hands in his pockets carried on in his lazy strides, the sound of his trousers rubbing against each other heralding his approach.
Even before reaching the lounge room the fiery villain could hear the sounds of this new game that Tomura could barely find the willpower to put down.
The pale man was sitting in all his supple glory, and Dabi noted the empty shaker and similarly empty box at his sides. No other snacks were seen. Shigaraki must have seen him approach, though he seemed rather preoccupied with the game, his gaze being glued to the screen. Dabi did not mind not being greeted or paid attention to, though he was more disappointed in the lack of snacks.
Though Tomura seemed to pay attention only to the game, Dabi did not want to appear like he only came for the food. He went to sit down as casually as ever. As soon as his plush keister sunk into the seat of the couch he winced.
Dabi felt the fabric constrict painfully around his thighs. Before he could think or do anything there came the sound of loud tearing, multiple tears in fact, all at once. The agonising tension was suddenly gone as his trousers opened up with a snap as well, letting his fat stomach burst forth and flood into his lap.
Dabi jumped up from the couch immediately with a jiggle, staring down at himself.
„Ha! I KNEW your fat ass was gonna bust the seams as soon as you sat down!” Tomura smirked, his eyes grazing all over his plump comrade. Dabi was not pleased at all and started to sweat from the shitty situation.
„Fuck off!” Dabi retorted, glaring back at the boss. „Like YOU can talk! You’ve worn nothing but sweatpants for like a month now!”
He continued, already holding onto his trousers, tugging it upwards a few times, resulting in the shaking and jiggling of his hindquarters and belly, all of which Tomura could see. Unsurprisingly, Shigaraki’s smirk was not wiped off by the outburst, or by the accusation. In fact his grin only widened some more.
„Yeah cuz I’m not lying to myself and spending an hour trying to encase my ass into a pair of Hot Topic Jeggings.” Tomura replied offhandedly, looking and sounding as smug as ever which annoyed Dabi even more.
While he struggled to keep his pants up, the boss did not even try to sit in an upright position to at least try and appear less chubby, his back arched like a cat’s almost at all times, which accentuated his soft tummy and a prominent roll of fat that rested above his paunch.
Dabi did not say anything anymore and looked away. It was bad enough how long it took to put his jeggings on, now it was all for nothing and he lost his favourite clothing item too.
He was loth to face the facts. Still holding onto his pants he started skulking back towards his room, determined to ignore the shit eating grin that he felt followed him even after he disappeared and was gone out of sight. That stupid, smug, wrinkly grin.. fucking Tomura.
„Hot garbage.” Shigaraki thought, leaning back on the couch as the menu music continued playing in the background. Momentarily he reached for his shake. Putting the plastic straw into his mouth he started slurping up the very last drops of the thick, sugary beverage in an obnoxious and loud fashion.
„Dear me, I dare say you’ve not had many lessons in manners yet?~”
It worked, and a minute later Tomura looked up to see the top hat of Mr Compress bobbing into view from whence Dabi disappeared. It was followed by the emergence of the rest of the graceful man. Atsuhiro did not seem to have changed in any way, not like the others at least. Still the same slender man with his well-formed thighs and elegant mannerisms.
„Manners are not taught in lessons.” Tomura replied dryly.
The magician chuckled softly behind his mask and stopped before the pallid man. Making a few gestures with his hands Mr Compress made an orb appear between his fingers. Shigaraki cast a doubtful glance at him.
„This time I made sure it was the correct one.” Atsuhiro said reassuringly.
Tomura still stopped for a split second before holding up his empty shaker to his friend. Mr Compress effortlessly flicked the orb inside, while noticing the many teeth marks on the plastic straw. After Tomura popped on the lid the magician snapped his fingers.
Inside the shaker the orb suddenly expanded in a burst of lavish pink, with enough force to send a few small splashes of the heavy liquid through the straw’s opening. Shiggy instinctively raised his arms at the explosion and watched rigidly as a few thick splashes landed on his shirt.
„Oh, I’m afraid this new, epoch-making usage of my quirk still needs some fine tuning.” Atsuhiro said with one hand placed dramatically against his forehead.
„Nah, it’s fine. Thanks.” Tomura replied casually. Mr Compress bowed gracefully.
Shigaraki raised the shaker to his mouth, stuck out his tongue and unapologetically licked off some splats that were dripping down the outside before taking copious gulps of the thick concoction through the opening itself.
Glug glug glug.
Every time he swallowed his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, the veins on his neck less visible due to a subtle padding of silky fat. Getting fat has been helping him appear less dried up, though of course he still could pass as a mummy, albeit one that belonged to a honey loving noble.
Pulling away from his drink he took a deep breath and sighed. After a few moments of contentment, satisfied for the present he put his hearty beverage on top of their makeshift table next to the couch, a leaning pile of video games. With both hands now free he turned his attention to the few thick blots of creamy goodness staining his front.
Shigaraki pulled up the black fabric. Like a warm water bed, his squidgy tummy plopped out, light shining on his pale skin and celeste treasure trail. He pulled the besmirched parts of cloth over to his mouth, stretching the material, revealing a little more of his plumped up figure as he did so, like his forming undermoobs and that lovely roll of fat above his belly. He licked away at his shirt until it was clean, his dry tongue rough like a cat's.
Once he was finished he simply let go of the fabric which draped over the dome of his stomach, leaving it somewhat exposed as he didn’t bother covering himself up. At last he picked up the controller again, feeling ready to start enjoying Maple Leaf Season.
Later that night, Dabi was sitting at his window, smoking. Spending the whole day cooped up in his room, he wasn't sure how to feel or what to make of himself. He just stared outside, letting out blueish gray puffs of smoke that trailed up towards the starry sky as he listened to the noises of the thudding heartbeat of the city at night..
„Krooo, kroooo~.”
Dabi’s ears perked up at the familiar sound, though he remained motionless. He knew the bird which made those calls. Now Dabi was pretending to have not noticed Hawks pressed up against the wall like a dork, scooting over in video game character fashion until he was right under the window.
„Kroo~.”
With that and a few flaps of his wing he leapt up and their lips pressed against each other in a sloppy kiss. The taste of nicotine quickly took over both their mouths and Hawks closed his eyes, tasting the cigarette and feeling Dabi's rugged, scarred skin right under his lips. How Takami adored this man..
After what felt like hours they pulled away with a satisfying wet sound, exchanging gentle looks at each other while catching their breath. Hawks smiled and initiated conversation.
„Hey, look what your celestial emissary brought~” The hero cooed eagerly, producing two boxes of Kento Fried Chicken from his backpack. Their aroma was delicious and the villain could feel his mouth watering already. But he flicked the cigarette out onto the pavement of the alley and sighed.
„I should really lay off chicken.” The fiery villain said in his gruff voice to the surprise of Hawks who was already climbing up and was soon perching on the window sill, looking inside. The cluttered mess of Dabi's room somehow always looked cosy to the airborne hero.
„What? Don’t tell me you got bored of.. oh.. ooooooooohh~” Hawks looked on as Dabi stepped back, letting Takami see him better. The hero at once noticed the lack of jeggings and the much fuller figure of the villain than what he remembered last time.
He was surprised to see how chubby his partner was looking, but he didn’t mind. Not at all. In a way, it truly felt like a relief, really, to see Dabi not severely underweight at last. And perhaps he could sneak in some healthy foods and vitamins into his food, once or twice.. It wasn't the right thing to do but Hawks believed he was helping his mate.
Still looking, of course Hawks couldn’t hide his excitement over the fact that his boyfriend was standing there in his underwear.
„You know, one day I could take you out clothes shopping-”
„Not you too.” Dabi butted in with a groan.
„Alright, alright, who am I to object? Well, did you wanna do anything about it?"
Dabi looked at Hawks, then at the boxes of food. He shrugged, and his friend continued.
"Let’s see.. Oh! I know. How about some late night workout?” Hawks said, gripping the edge of the window as if ready to hop out again.
Dabi raised one eyebrow slightly, though his overall expression didn’t change much at all. Did Hawks really want to go running around the block in the bloody night?
„Listen birdbrain, I’m not-” Before he could object any more Dabi noticed the familiar, lusty smirk on the face of his lover. Takami's wings gave a small flutter, swirling the air and making a few crumpled papers rustle.
"Kroo, kroo~"
„Tch..” Dabi scoffed, his own expression widening into a wide and eager grin from ear to ear as Hawks stepped away from the window and rushed him down, embracing his villainous lover and inducing yet another kissing frenzy, as his taut midriff pushed into the soft belly of the other man and their arms feverishly groped at each other, Dabi feeling up the sculpted body of the hero and Hawks grabbing handfuls of Dabi’s beautifully filled out rump and full figure until the two stumbled in a heap onto the dishevelled bed.
Coming from the cold of the night skies, Hawks thought the closeness of the fiery villain was like the hearth of home and his messy room the lovebirds’ nest. Dabi too was glad to finally spend time with his heroic lover. Of course he also realised that getting fat had it’s advantages, as he couldn't not notice how much Hawks liked his new looks. For the first time in long weeks Dabi felt genuinely happy about himself.
Sunrise.
A leaving Hawks properly disposed of Dabi’s discarded cigarette, and moments later a sleep deprived Tomura has just unlocked Thrashed Tools 5.