Archive of Our Own

‘ Local Hero Ground Zero saves one hundred and six from water villain despite growing concerns over his weight.’

‘How Ground Zero Still Effectively Manages to do His Job at his Weight.’

‘Ground Zero is Proving Omegas Can Still be Effective Heroes.’

‘Why Ground Zero Needs to Get his Weight in Check or Simply Retire.’

The headlines went on like this for the entire page. It was like no matter what website he scrolled through, what article he saw, they all said the same shit.

Yeah , Ground Zero was a good Hero, top ten in fact. He’d overcome obstacle after obstacle but none of that mattered and why? There were two reasons.

First it had been because he was an omega and there were still small minded assholes out there who thought omegas had no business being allowed to do hero work, or even allowed out of the house. They were only good as rescue heroes if that . But he’d surpassed everyone’s expectations and made a name for himself. Fact of the matter was, Ground Zero had a crazy high number of arrests and saves under his belt! He was legit and it had hurt the media to watch him succeed. They’d never liked him—he wasn’t marketable. He wasn’t a friendly fucking fairy like Izuku Midoriya, the only other top ten omega, the one people actually liked. But he was still good!

Yet when it came his time to shine, instead of the recognition he deserved, the media just chose to focus on his other obstacle…

‘ Just how much weight has Ground Zero gained in the last year? Experts Weigh In.’

“ This is fucking bullshit!” He finally exploded, baby sparks bursting from his hands as he tossed his phone to the other side of the bed.

Immediately Eijiro’s head was popping out of the bathroom doorway to make sure everything was okay. “What’s wrong? Did you accidently set the sheets on fire again?”

“What? No? I don’t fu—” The had been one damn time and it had been an accident. “No dumbass it’s not that! It’s the fucking news again.”

“Oh? About those people you saved yesterday? Everybody at my agency was talking about it. That was some quick thinking,” his boyfriend grinned proudly. At least someone was supportive.  

“Not according to the news! They’re acting like it was some sort of miracle.”

“Isn’t it?” Eijiro asked. “I mean even some of the best heroes don’t always save everyone, ya know?”

Of course Eijiro didn’t see the problem. His blind optimism, though strangely endearing, could also be crazy annoying majority of the time. Though, there were times when he wished everyone else saw him the same way his boyfriend did, as a hero, regardless of anything else.

“That’s not the point.”

Katsuki didn’t want to say it out loud. He much preferred just complaining about the problem without saying what it actually was. Usually he had no problem speaking his mind, but this was almost too embarrassing to talk about.  

He brought his knees under his chin, pouting as Eijiro finally crawled into bed. His hair was damp, lying flat against his forehead. It was hard to stay upset looking at that face, even Katsuki had to admit.

“ And what is the point?”

“The point is that nobody cares about real hero stuff anymore. They just want to talk about who’s got the flashiest costumes…” he paused, his lips pursing as he grumbled out, “and how fat I look in mine.”

There was a silent pause and then suddenly Eijiro was laughing, like he always did at all the most inappropriate times. “Oh, is that what this is about?”

“What the fuck else would it be about?”

That was all anything was about these days! It had been going on for over a year now. He’d gained a few pounds, just enough to be noticeable in his tight ass costume, and suddenly everyone had something to say about it. Was he injured? Was he retiring? The first time a reporter stuck a mic in his face to ask about the weight, he’d snapped.

“Maybe I just like to fucking eat?”

That had been one of the more embarrassing headlines of his career.

Katsuki was livid, but here Eijiro was, staring at him with those big red eyes, like it was the craziest thing to be upset about. “I thought they’d finally found a real problem, the kind that actually matters, that keeps you from being a good hero.”

“Of course not.”

“See!” he said triumphantly, leaning in to plant a reassuring kiss on his cheek. Katsuki growled. No amount of affection was going to quell his anger. “So who cares what some stupid reporter thinks? Omegas have different body types anyway, right? Isn’t natural for you to store more fat, especially as you get older?”

Sadly. Eijiro would constantly assure him he was no less manly for being an omega—not that Katsuki had ever asked. Still, things like heats and the added softness weren’t ideal in their line of work. Sometimes Katsuki wished he would’ve been born a beta at least. Nobody questioned their ability to do their fucking job.

“I guess.”

“So five pounds or fifty, what does it matter as long as you get the job done? You haven’t lost any civilians yet.”

For someone who graduated somewhere towards the bottom of their class, Eijiro made a damn good point. Even after packing on a few pounds, Katsuki’s hero rank had only continued to rise. He could do his job better than anyone regardless of what his second gender was. But there was one small thing still nagging him…

“ Seventy-five ,” he muttered.

“Huh?”

“You said ‘whether it’s five pounds or fifty’ but it’s seventy-five.”

Eijiro’s eyes went wide and Katsuki was more than ready to tell his boyfriend to ‘piss off’ and banish him to the couch if he had anything to say about it.

He glanced Katsuki’s frame up and down, seeming genuinely surprised as he asked, “Since when is it Seventy-five?”

“A few weeks ago.” In all honestly, he knew he hadn’t bee anywhere near fifty pounds for a while.

“Hm. Well you’re still a damn good hero, and you look good too!” he tacked in the last part for good measure. Katsuki rolled his eyes.

“I’m not some girl. I don’t need you to tell me I’m pretty.”

“But you are pretty. Deal with it dude.” The praise was followed up with another kiss. Katsuki accepted this one without so much as a groan.

Katsuki was well accustomed to his boyfriend’s compliment showers, no matter how cheesy. He just had a hard time believing anyone could think he still looked good like this. When Ground Zero first debuted, he’d been this rugged, chiseled symbol of strength. Several years and seventy five pounds later, he was still a symbol of strength just.. softer. Instead of abs so hard they could literally break knuckles on impact, there was now a thick layer of fat that covered up any remnants of their former glory.

Whether his belly was bigger or his thighs thicker, Katsuki was still a damn good hero. The media could kiss his fat ass.

He’d show them. Ground Zero was not someone to mess with.

X

In the past two weeks alone, Katsuki had thwarted nine muggings, two armed robberies, two major villain attacks on the city, and a number of small street disputes here and there. He was working twice as hard as usual and he had no plans on stopping any time soon.

Even now, he was in the middle of another major job. Earphone Jack had intercepted a call about a shipment of illegal weapons being transported through the city disguised as a delivery truck. Ground Zero, along with several other heroes, had been tasked with gathering intel on its contents and capturing whoever was running the operation before the weapons could be exchanged. It seemed routine enough at first.

They’d followed the truck to its drop off, a warehouse away from civilians. There were a bunch of airhead henchmen in all black, discreetly unloading metal crates from the truck. It was a pretty regular Thursday mission honestly. Katsuki had done plenty like this before.

But everything changed when then some dick with a sonar quirk pulled up, giving up every heroes stake out locations.

Chaos immediately ensued. He could see Kamui Woods fighting some guy with a fire quirk out the corner of his eye. Cellophane was struggling to subdue a guy with scales. There were elements and prokectiles being thrown left and right and Katuski did his best to put down as many guys as he could until he got caught up fighting a guy with some sort of vertigo quirk. Every time the villain touched him, Katsuki’s balance began to waiver and his head began to spin. It made his long-range attacks inaccurate. It made close range attacks damn near impossible. None of his blasts were landing. Even after managing to finally hit the guy and knock him out, Katsuki was all over the place.

No longer preoccupied with a fight, he tried his best to make a B-Line for the shipment, even as the world spun around him. They still had no idea what the hell was in the crates and it would be a waste to come all this way and not know what for at the very least. He threw himself over one of the wooden boxes and multiple times to blast off the lock with his skewed aim.  

“Keep you hands off the product!” He heard behind him. It wasn’t even worth his time to turn around and see who it was. He’d probably fall over if he tried.

“Fuck off.” He blasted the lock again but he kept hitting the crate instead.

“I can’t do that Ground Zero. The product is much too important. It took years to develop these again! The buyer would kill us if we lost them!”

God why was this guy still talking? He didn’t care about his buyer or anything else. He just needed to get his head straight, so he could properly blast the fuck out of this lock.

“What’s in these crates that’s so damn important huh?” He slowly turned his head over his shoulder and was met with the frantic eyes of sonar quirk spinning around in circles. How long did the damn vertigo quirk last?  

“Would you really like to find out?” He asked, and Katsuki heard the distinctive sound of a gun cocking but he couldn’t see it. “I could show you.”

As fast as he could, he forced himself up to shoot off a blast, but whether or not it connected he didn’t know. The last thing he remembered was the searing hot pain of two bullets in his back before everything went black.

X  

When he came to, it was two days later the doctor said.

Surgery had gone well apparently. They had gotten all of the bullet fragments out of his body. Neither bullet had hit his spine or any vital organs thankfully. That was good news, but that was the only good news apparently.

After that was nothing but shit. They heroes had retreated after Katsuki had been shot. They didn’t see who the buyer of the mysterious shipment was, but thanks to Katsuki, they did at least know what was in it.

“What well the fuck was it?” He yelled when it seemed everyone in the room suddenly lost their ability to speak. Even Eijiro wasn’t looking at him and he was always in his face, rambling in about something ridiculous.

The doctor refused to even look up from his clipboard when he finally said, “ Quirk erasing bullets.”

“What?” Immediately Eijiro grabbed his hand, squeezing it in an attempt to calm him down.

The doctor repeated himself despite knowing full well Katsuki had heard him. “We noticed some weird readings coming from you and the bullets initially, so we ran numerous tests and tried everything we could…but it seems as though your body has stopped secreting nitroglycerin altogether.”

It had just stopped? There was no way. How could a stupid bullet just make it stop? He’d been doing it his whole fucking life.

“Is this a joke?” Katsuki yelled. Yet when he waved his hands, only for nothing to happen, not even a spark, he knew.

He received a sympathetic nod, but the bastard doctor still would meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I wish there was more we could do but this is beyond our abilities. The police are doing their best to track down some information but for now…I’m just, I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Sorry wasn’t going to catch those villains or kill the fucker who’d shot him like he so desperately wanted to. Sorry wasn’t going to bring his quirk back!

For the first time in a long time, Katsuki didn’t bother to hold back tears. He couldn’t quite place his emotions—bitterness, jealousy, rage, sadness. The only thing keeping him from jumping up and mauling the doctor with his quirkless hands was Eijiro’s pleading eyes and his thumb rubbing up and down the back of his palm.

Sorry? Yeah, he was sorry too. Sorry this doctor had just made an enemy out of him.

X

News of Ground Zero’s condition spread like wildfire—which was to be expected when it involved the revival of quirk erasing bullets.

Within a day of waking up, Katsuki was tired of hearing about them. It was all they wanted to talk about at the hospital, doctors poking and prodding him everyday to see if his quirk had come back. The police had come by more than once to ask him the same questions over and over about the incident. His parents kept looking at him as if they felt sorry for him and his phone would not stop vibrating. He couldn’t take it. He’d banned all non-family visitors after the first day. He didn’t want to deal with people asking stupid questions and pitying him all damn day.

He was more than relieved when he finally got to go home but even still, it was all over the news. Ground Zero this and Quirk Erasing bullets that . There was no peace. As much as he wanted to get up and go out, do something or fight someone , his wounds were still recovering, and his quirk was still gone.

Eijiro was having none of it anyway. The sturdy hero had even taken off just to sit around the house and take care of him. As if he needed taking of. He was a grown ass man, quirk or not, he could take care of himself. Though…Eijiro had been doing a decent job. He was pretty good at keeping his bandages changed and his meds on schedule. Plus, he did cook better than Katsuki did, like way better. Almost too good honestly. He made full spreads for breakfast pancakes and fruit one day, rice with fish and soup another, eggs and bacon after that. There was udon, curry, okonomiyaki, stir fry, whatever the hell he wanted Eijiro could seem to figure out. Trying out all of his new recipes was the most exciting thing Katsuki had been doing with his recovery time, if not the only thing.

“Did you finish all your food? Was it good?” Eijiro asked, popping into the bedroom to check on him. He had an apron on, one Katsuki didn’t even know he owned. It was a clear sign he was taking this new caretaking job way too seriously, but he wouldn’t complain—not when his boyfriend was shirtless underneath. Like damn, he knew alphas were usually pretty fit but just being an alpha didn’t give you a body like that . That took years of careful sculpting.

Still, Katsuki scoffed, “It was fine.”

Somehow Eijiro seemed to see right through his non-chalance. After several days at home, it was pointless. He’d been swallowing down everything Eijiro gave to him with no abandon, rationalizing it by by telling himself he needed the extra calories to aide with his recovery. He’d eaten three bowls of extra hot ramen for lunch. He’d practically inhaled the French toast had thrown together for breakfast this morning. Not to mention the three dorayaki he’d mindlessly plowed through watching TV earlier. Now he was one bowl in on Eijiro’s extra hot mabu tofu. And this was all just today. He was beyond bloated but that didn’t stop his boyfriend from feeding him.  

“I’ll bring you some more.”

Katsuki didn’t argue. As if there was one to be made. They both knew he wanted another bowl, and probably another after that. Eating seemed to be the only thing keeping him sane these last few days. He’d be lying if he said losing his quirk hadn’t been driving him up a wall. What the hell was he supposed to do without a quirk? Anyone would be pissed. He was less irritated when he was stuffed into a mindless food coma and Eijiro had been smart enough to make sure to keep him that way.

Moments later his boyfriend returned carrying two bowls with him. He placed one in Katsuki’s lap as he crawled into bed beside him. He’d removed the stupid apron and Katsuki appreciated the view, but he still smelled like the raw vegetables and cooking oil. It wasn’t unpleasant. Something about it mixed with his usual alpha pheromones made Katsuki’s stomach flutter in a weird way, though he’d never admit it. Instead of focusing on that, he tried to focus on eating, but he could see Eijiro looking at him out the corner of his eye every few seconds.

“You know you don’t have to fucking babysit me,” he finally said, mouth full of food and face turned towards the wall. “I’m not helpless.”

Even if the media was determined to make it sound that way these days.

“ No… but you’re injured and as your boyfriend, it’s my job to take care of you.”

“No dumbass. It’s your job to fight villains and save people.”

“That comes second to you. Japan can go two weeks without Red Riot while he nurses you back to health. Plus, I had tons of vacation time saved up anyway.” He smiled but Katsuki still felt as though he was being coddled. He hadn’t agreed to let Eijiro move in with him so that he could keep tabs on him or change all his routines, yet that was what had happened anyway. How the sturdy fuck had managed to weasel his way into his life, into playing nurse , he’d never understand.

It was nice having his boyfriend close by for like heats and stuff, but only as a matter of practicality and continence… really that was it! He wasn’t going soft or anything.

“Besides,” continued Eijiro, “I don’t mind helping you and you shouldn’t be alone right now anyway.”

The first response that came to mind was “ what the fuck was that supposed to mean?” But honestly, he already knew. He felt like there was an unspoken, “and somebody has to make sure you don’t do anything stupid after losing your quirk,” lingering in the air, as if he was going to do something stupid like try and fight crime.

He was a lot of thing—pissed, confused, upset—but he wasn’t stupid. He knew his limits. There wasn’t even any point in starting a fight over it. Eijiro didn’t mean anything malicious by it anyway. He was just doing what alphas did, take care of their omegas. So Katsuki conceded to finishing off his spicy tofu without argument.

Eijiro seemed to notice as soon as his bowl was empty. “There’s still more left if you want.”

Did he want it? Yes. Did he need it? By the way his stomach was already stretching into his shirt, probably not . But if Eijiro wanted to take care of him, the least Katsuki could do was play the role of a good boyfriend. Without a quirk, there wasn’t much else for him to do right now anyway.  

“Yeah, more sounds good.”

X

As much as Katsuki gripped about Eijiro not going back to work, he had to admit having him around the apartment for a few weeks had been nice. It was way better than being there alone, which he’d been for about a week now.

None of the doctors working on trying to get his quirk back had made any progress, not that Katsuki had gotten his hopes up. As much as he was itching to get back out into the field, that just wasn’t possible right now. So, he was forced to sit at home, waiting for Eijiro like some sort of sad puppy.

Needless to say, it was boring. Daytime TV was absolute trash. Still he’d taken to spending most of his time on the couch, switching between talk shows and cheesy house wife dramas. It passed the time most days, filling the hours with mindless junk he could get lost in instead of thinking about his stupid quirk. It didn’t take long for him to get into the habit of sleeping in, only to wake up and migrate to the couch, watch TV and eat whatever breakfast Eijiro had left him on the stove. A little later he’d indulge in a few mid-morning snacks. With absolutely no desire to leave the house, he’d usually order in for lunch. Then he’d enjoy a nap, an afternoon snack and usually by dinner time, Eijiro was waltzing in the door.

After a few weeks of doing it every day, Katsuki stopped hating the routine as much. The stupid TV dramas were a little less stupid when he figured out the story line. Sometimes he read a book if was feeling really desperate. It wasn’t his ideal but he made it work. It was better than any of his alternatives. He’d removed himself from all social media and stopped looking at news outlets after reading an article that claimed, ‘he probably could’ve outrun that bullet if he wasn’t fat’ , as if the reporter knew anything about what he was talking about. He’d been pissed enough to almost explode his phone. Now, he got most of his important news from Eijiro, but today his boyfriend seemed to want to talk about something else.

“So…” Eijiro started, his finger scratching an itch on his cheek Katsuki just knew was not there. They were sitting at the table eating dinner like always but the hero looked as though he’d had something on his mind. “I was thinking…”

Katsuki refrained from saying any of the rude things that came to mind and slurped at his soba noodles, meeting eager eyes with a scowl. “ About?”

“Well you haven’t been outside in a while…”

“On purpose.”

“I know but, some of the guys and I were talking and a lot of them haven’t seen you since before you got shot. I thought maybe it would be nice to go out or maybe do dinner?”

“No.” Katsuki had no interest in going out and seeing people, heroes or fucking otherwise. He didn’t need some bystander coming up and asking about his quirk or some paparazzi snapping photos so his gut could trend on Twitter again.

“But babe, you’ve been cooped up here for weeks. It’s not healthy. Plus, your friends miss you.”

“What friends?” He deadpanned. The only reason he was friendly with anyone was because of Eijiro. Somehow he’d ended up in a relationship with the one guy capable of making friends even easier than Izuku.

“You know, Denki, Mina… Izuku, Sho—”

“Hell no. No. Fucking no. I am not agreeing to dinner with any of those happy go lucky fucking excuses for—”

Most days Eijiro could take his complaining. Once or twice he’d even called it endearing. In this moment, he had the same look on his face as his did when someone did something he considered unmanly. He waved his hand, not even bothering to entertain the tantrum Katsuki was throwing. “Too late. I already agreed to it and we’re going.”  

“You already agreed? What the hell? I said I’m not—” he paused, his shoulders relaxing and his mood seeming to level out. Katsuki could feel himself involuntarily calming down. “A re you releasing fucking pheromones right now?”

Eijiro blushed, neither confirming nor denying the accusation. “You can’t stay cooped up in here forever babe. I’m starting to worry about you.”

Bright red eyes stared back at him with concern and even if Katsuki could’ve gone on arguing forever, he conceded. “Fine I’ll go. But only ‘cuz you guilted me into it. Just stop looking so damn pathetic.”

Almost immediately his boyfriend perked up and Katsuki knew he’d been played like a sucker. It was a feat only Eijiro was capable of.

“Thanks babe!”

“ Mhmm .”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Hell yeah he would. Katsuki would make sure of it. “Whatever. Just get me another bowl of soba?”

“ Please? ”

“ Please,” Katsuki repeated reluctantly. He would’ve gotten it himself…well he would’ve if he wasn’t too stuffed to get up.

X

Katsuki couldn’t place quite how long it had been since he’d left the house to do anything other than check the mail—five or six weeks maybe? Realistically he knew he’d have to go out eventually, but he’d hope to drag it out as long as possible. He was kind of getting used to his routine. Even worse, he knew he’d been doing nothing but sitting on his ass the last month and a half. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d surely put on some (more) weight since coming home.

Curse his damn omega hormones. Was it entirely their fault this time? Probably not. Was he going to blame them anyway? Hell yeah.  

He knew he had a problem when his lounge-around-the-house clothes started getting snug. Instead of going out and buying more he’d just sort of ignored it and pushed his sweats lower on his hips while he watched TV. But now Eijiro wanted to go out to eat, with people , and Katsuki hadn’t worn a real shirt or pants since before he’d been shot. Something told him he should probably browse his closet for fitting clothes before Saturday night, even though he had a pretty good idea what the outcome would be.

He’d waited until Eijiro left for the day, not wanting his boyfriend to see him struggle through his wardrobe. Having gained seventy-five pounds in the last few years, he had some larger jeans lying around already. If he was lucky, at least one pair would still fit.

But when had he ever been lucky?

The moment he looked himself over in the mirror, Katsuki knew it was worse than he thought. He’d been pretty chubby before but fuck. Just how much weight had he gained? More than just a few pounds, judging by the way to bottom of his stomach peeked out from under his t-shirt. No matter how hard he tugged, he couldn’t get it to cover the rounded edge of his underbelly completely. Why the hell hadn’t Eijiro said anything? Was he fucking blind? He had to be to miss the way Katsuki’s chest had suddenly puffed up like a whole cup size!

This was about to be a disaster and he knew it, but still, he grabbed the largest pair of jeans he had just to make sure. They made it halfway up his thighs without much of a problem. The sounds of a few seams stretching wasn’t going to deter him at least. From there he’d had to wiggle a bit to get them past the roundest part of his ass. Had it always been that big? There was no fucking way he’d been squeezing that thing into his hero pants before. They weren’t the tightest, but it wasn’t like cargo pants were exactly forgiving.

Getting them up onto his hips had been challenging enough, so much so he could hear himself panting from exertion. Even when he’d started gaining weight, he’d at least been in damn good shape from all the working out and the fighting. Had he really fallen out of shape that quickly? Icing on the fucking shit cake… or maybe the icing was literally having to push his stomach aside to even see the flaps on his jeans? Fuck.

Katsuki tugged once, twice, three times before getting frustrated. He knew he’d gained weight but not this much damn it! These pants were at least going to close, even if it killed him!

He fell back onto the bed, sucking in the hardest breath he could possibly muster. It didn’t do nearly as much as he’d expected. If anything, his belly was still fairly prominent over his midsection. If he leaned forward to try and see what he was doing, his flab just scrunched up over his hands, so he lay flat, trying to force his pants closed with sheer will power. It took a grunt, holding his breath, and a few long tugs, but he got the button to close and the zipper up. It dug painfully into his underbelly but his sense of accomplishment trumped any discomfort. He was Ground—fucking—Zero . He would not be be beaten by a pair of jeans.

At least not until he went to sit up and the button popped right open with no mercy.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered as his eyes went down to assess the damage. From a seated position, his belly covered the opening of his jeans completely. He could see the fabric straining to contain his thighs and barely making it. There was no hope for anything in his closet and he knew it. So, he pulled out his phone.

To: Shitty Hair

If you want me to make it to dinner Saturday I’m going to need new clothes

From: Shitty Hair

It’s not a fancy dinner. You don’t have to dress up

To: Shitty Hair

I know that! As if I’d waste my time dressing up for these losers!

He didn’t care about fashion or any of that dumb shit. He just didn’t want his stomach hanging out of his shirt.

To: Shitty Hair

I don’t have any clothes that fit!

From: Shitty Hair

Oh! That is a problem. You want me to grab you something? What size should I get?

To: Shitty Hair

I don’t know.

He figured he was probably several sizes larger now, but he wouldn’t know without knowing how much he even weighed these days. He didn’t often use the scale Eiji kept in the bathroom, but he thought now was as a good a time as any. He stepped onto the scale and had to push his stomach out of the way to see the number—a sign that the number was probably far higher than he was expecting.

Two ninety-four. One hundred and nine pounds from when his starting hero weight. He had no idea what size he wore now, but he thought he should at least give Eijiro some sort of reference.

To: Shitty Hair

Big ones

X

Objectively, Katsuki knew the reason for his most recent problem. He’d been eating too much and not doing shit all day. It was basic math, health, whatever. He’d already been on the softer side anyway. It was common for Omegas to start putting on weight as they got older—bodies filled out and heats made them insatiably hungry. He knew if he cut back some, he wouldn’t be in this predicament now. He knew a lot of things…but did that stop him from going straight to the kitchen to raid the fridge after the whole pants debacle?

No. No it did not.

Katsuki wasn’t even hungry, not really. He’d eaten three times already and it was barely two. He was just frustrated and bored and kind of embarrassed and instead of dealing with his emotions— because when had he ever been anything but varying degrees of angry— these days he preferred to eat them. He could bury his frustration under copious amounts of chips, ice cream and leftover crepes that he hadn’t eaten this morning. It was a weird combination, but it got the job done. By the time he finished, he was so full, he couldn’t focus on anything but the satisfying ache in his stomach. It was the perfect distraction.

With everything he’d been dealing with lately, from his quirk to the tabloids wondering what he’d been up to, eating was one of the few things that relaxed him. Eijiro’s constant presence had been comforting, as much as Katsuki complained, but Eijiro couldn’t be home all day anymore. Maybe it was weird, but after the way his boyfriend had taken care of him the last few weeks, being full was the closest he could get to feeling like Eijiro was around even when he wasn’t. It kept Katsuki sane. Though he did feel rather embarrassed when Eijiro walked in carrying a new bag full of clothes for him to try on. Maybe eating that last round of mochi hadn’t been the smartest move on his part?

Eijiro was energetic as always, despite several random scrapes and bruises from work. Only he could come home from a day of getting beaten up with nothing but smiles on his face. “Hey babe! I wasn’t sure what to get, or the sizes, so I just got a ton of different things! Try it on so I know what to take back.”  

Katsuki groaned, partially at the thought of trying things on, and partially because his stomach hurt every time he even thought about lifting up from the couch. He cradled his belly in his hand to keep it from bouncing around as he pushed up and followed Eijiro back to their bedroom. The redhead was going on about stores he’d visited and things he’d seen. Katsuki could only imagine what he’d picked out.

“I tried to get stuff that I thought you’d like,” he finally said.

Katsuki tried his best to sound grateful despite the discomfort he was feeling. “Thanks.”

“Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah. My stomach just hurts.” He didn’t dare admit it was because he’d just cleaned out the kitchen.

Eijiro nodded and already Katsuki could see the sympathetic wheels in his head turning. He was too nice for his own good. Most days Katsuki didn’t know how he managed to keep him around. He’d been a lot more docile since losing his quirk, but still.

“Let me help you then?”

“Huh?” He was confused but Eijiro was already moving towards him, guiding Katsuki to the bed before he could even protest.

“Just sit down and I’ll help you try stuff on. We can start with shirts!” His hand grasped the edge of Katsuki’s much too tight t-shirt. Reluctantly he raised his arms as Eijiro tugged. He wasn’t the proudest of the way his belly flopped out of the shirt, rippling with discomfort. Eijiro didn’t even seem to notice as he pulled a black button up shirt from the first bag.

“Buttons, really?” Katsuki sighed, arms weaving through their respective holes. He was never one to turn down Eijiro kneeling between his thighs, but this was too embarrassing even for him. All he could think about was the pale gut separating them. Yet his boyfriend fondled with the buttons like he didn’t even care. He had to care, right? Seventy-five pounds had been one thing, but it had to be at least one hundred by now.

“I like the way you look in button ups,” Eijiro replied, straining over one particularly tight button by Katsuki’s belly button. “I think they’re sexy. Shows you clean up well ya know?”

He tried everything he had to suppress the blush dusting his cheeks. “Of course I clean up well.” He’d meant for his words to come out rough and confident, but he’d mumbled them through clenched teeth instead.

“Or I did,” he added as Eijiro struggled with yet another button.

“What do you mean did? You still do.”

Katsuki gave his boyfriend a dry look, not even bothering to waste time explaining why that wasn’t true. The reason was literally staring Eijiro in the face in all its flabby glory.

“This isn’t going to work,” Katsuki finally said. He could feel the shirt pressing into his gut. He was one deep breath away from popping a button.

“Damn, maybe I got the wrong size? No worries! I’ve got more sizes!”

After this first disaster, Katsuki was not in the mood. He didn’t want to spend the evening squeezing into tiny clothes.

“No. I don’t want do this anymore.”

“You haven’t tried on one whole shirt.”

“And I ain’t gonna! Just pick the biggest sizes you have or take ‘em all back or something. I don’t care.”

The only thing he even kind of cared about, was what they were going to do for dinner.

X

Katsuki wasn’t much of a whiner and he damn sure wasn’t one to apologize often, but he’d already done one today, so he might as well go for two.

He’d been in bed for about an hour when Eijiro came shuffling into bed from his shower. He still felt like an ass from earlier and hoped Eijiro wasn’t too upset with him, though he had every right to be. To his surprise, his boyfriend didn’t reject it when Katsuki scooted towards him. He even wrapped his arm around his too soft waist.

“Does this mean you’ve calmed down?” Eijiro chuckled. Of course he wasn’t mad.  Katsuki was just an idiot who didn’t deserve him.

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “I’m ugh…I’m sorry about earlier.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Isn’t that unmanly or some shit against your principles.”

“Against yours maybe. Real men have feelings.”

All he could do was groan and roll his eyes in defeat. “Of course they do,” Katsuki sighed. He placed his hand over Eijiro’s, pushing it into the soft flesh as he squeezed his fingers. “Fine. I’m pissed ‘cuz I let myself get fat, or like fatter . Happy?”

Eijiro placed his chin in the crook of Katsuki’s neck, his voice gentle and curious. “Are you? ”

“What the fuck? I just said I wasn’t.”

“Well I can’t be happy if you’re not,” he said proudly before nervously tagging on, “Not that I like mind the weight or anything. That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Pfft, you don’t have to lie asshole.”

“I’m not! When have I ever lied to you?”

As much as he wanted to be right, Katsuki legitimately could not think think of a time. Eijiro was easily one of the most honest people he knew, too honest even.

“Well?” Eijiro asked.

Reluctantly Katsuki answered, “Never.”

But how could his boyfriend not be bothered? He ran around shirtless all day with the perfectly chiseled body of a god. People literally fawned over him, with his long red hair and toned muscles. Somehow over the course of their relationship he’d only gotten buffer! And Katsuki had managed to go from fit hero to chubby hero to just fat.

“Alright then! I said I don’t care,” he pulled his body in closer, yawning as he did. “Doesn’t matter to me what size you are.”

“It sho—” Katuski started, but he found himself too shocked to continue. Was Eijiro kneading his stomach right now? He was. His hand was literally palming at the side of his belly, lazily squeezing at it.  

“I-I kinda like it. It’s soft ,” he yawned.  

Katsuki could barely get out a huh, before Eijiro was fast asleep, his heavy breathing echoing in Katsuki’s ear. He had not just heard his boyfriend say he liked this! So he liked stretch marks and dimples and layers of fat literally everywhere. He must’ve been delirious with sleep…

But he really been feeding him more and encouraging to eat more and touching him more. Plus that whole thing with the kneading just now.  

Holy shit. Maybe he did like it? Kinky bastard.

Katsuki wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he was determined to find out. If he did, the least Katsuki could do was indulge him a bit.

X

Katsuki did not want to be at this dinner. He would’ve given anything, literally anything, not to be sitting at this table. Deku had opted to host the affair like the goody two shoes he was, of fucking course. He even made his Katsudon ‘extra spicy for Kacchan’, damn suck up.

It was pretty fucking good though. He’d give him that. Was everybody in his life suddenly a professional chef or something?

“Yo Deku, let me get some more,” Katsuki said, pushing his bowl towards his old rival.

The green haired freak looked crazy excited at the prospect of Katuski actually wanting to eat his food. His size should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’d eat just about anything these days, no matter who made it.

“Oh wow Kacchan! That was fast!”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Dude I don’t think that was a compliment,” Denki commented from across the table. He had on that stupid face he made whenever he was holding back laughter. Katsuki did not hesitate to show what he thought of his opinion with a well-placed hand gesture. Even without his quirk he was pretty sure he could still destroy him in a fight with ease, or crush him beneath his weight at the very least.

“I’m just glad you like it,” Deku grinned as he placed another full bowl down in front of him. He blushed as he admitted, “This is the only recipe I know.”

Katsuki wondered why the hell he’d volunteered to host the unnecessary meal, but when Eijiro set his mind on something, it usually got done regardless of the circumstances. If not Deku’s place, they would’ve just been somewhere else, like their own apartment. That would’ve been ever worse. At least here he could stay out of the public eye here. At a restaurant he would’ve been surrounded by fans surely.   

“It is really good,” Mina assured him, though when she pushed her bowl away it was still a quarter full. Quitter. “It’s rich though. I don’t know how Katsuki can manage two bowls.”

“I have an idea,” Shoto deadpanned. He looked as if he’d been dragged to dinner as well. He and Deku lived together, but he probably would’ve left if he could’ve. It wouldn’t have hurt Katsuki’s feelings if he had.  

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean Icey-Hot?”

“You are looking pretty soft these days,” Denki inserted before Shoto could reply, “Softer than the last time we saw you even.”

“Who the fuck asked you?”

Had it not been for Eijiro’s hand on his thigh, and his familiar laugh telling him calm down, Katsuki probably would’ve flipped on them all—quirk be damned. Mina was looking right at his stomach, the top half at least, as if it wasn’t the most obvious gain in the word. It wasn’t like the weight was hard to miss. Denki had an amused look on his face, the skinny bastard. Icy Hot was too busy shoving food in his face to even pay attention to the damage he’d caused. And Deku, fucking Deku, was nervously laughing beside him. One hand rubbed at the back of his neck while the other rested on the side of his own belly. He was chubby too, but not nearly as heavy as Katsuki was.

“It’s alright Kacchan. It happens to the best of us.”

As fucking if. He was ready to tell his old rival to fuck off but he’d promised his boyfriend he’d play nice. Plus, he’d told himself he wasn’t going to get worked up about his weight anymore. If Eijiro liked it, he’d embrace it, at least that’s what he was trying to do. He wouldn’t let a few snide comments get to him…the thing was, they weren’t that bad. He didn’t mind the comments that much, he just didn’t want them from Denki. He wanted it from his own boyfriend and he wasn’t sure why.

Katsuki shoved a bite of food into his mouth, “Don’t think we’re gonna have some sorta bonding moment over this.”

Izuku laughed in reply, “No, but I thought it might help you feel more comfortable.”

“He looks pretty comfortable to me,” Denki chided. He looked way to proud of himself as Mina struggled to keep from grinning.

“Glad you guys are having a field day with this.” Katsuki promised the next time he saw the stun gun hero without Eijiro around he’d make sure to give him a gift in the form of a swift right hook.  

“It’s all in good fun.”

“Besides it’s not like anyone has seen you in months!” Mina added. “We missed you!”

Katsuki didn’t know what the hell for? He wasn’t dead or anything. Sounded more like they just missed getting on his nerves. “I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what?” she asked.

Denki opened his mouth to make a joke about eating or something, but Katsuki shot him a death glare that immediately shut his mouth.

“Recovering,” he answered simply and left it at that. Mina seemed to take the hint and quickly moved the conversation to talking about all the friends from UA he probably hadn’t seen in a while. He didn’t understand why everyone threw the term friend around so loosely or why she thought he’d care that Ururaka was engaged, but he appreciated not being expected to talk. That way he could just enjoy his dinner.

He finished his second bowl, rice sitting heavy in his gut. Eijiro had managed to find him decently fitting pants, but the two bowls of Katsudon he’d just downed, mixed with everything else he’d eaten today, were making them feel a little snug. They weren’t comfortable but they weren’t totally unbearable either. If he was going to eat another bowl—and he totally was—he’d need to do something about them.

“More?” Izuku asked with no judgement. He didn’t have much room to talk when he was swallowing down his second bowl.

He nodded, only to find Eijiro looking at him from the corner of his eye . “What?”

“Three bowls? You sure you can handle it?”

“Pfft, you’ve seen me eat more than that at home. I’ve got this.”  

“Don’t eat yourself sick or anything,” he said, but Katsuki was too preoccupied with the bowl that had suddenly reappeared in front of him.

His pace had slowed considerably but that had never stopped him before. Considering he’d made it his mission to figure out exactly how Eijiro felt about his weight, now seemed like as good a time as any.

His boyfriend was definitely watching him. He’d contribute to the conversation a bit and then turn his attention back to Katsuki, trying to be discreet. It wasn’t Eiji’s best skill by any means. About a third of the way through the bowl, Katsuki felt himself struggling to keep going. His stomach hurt from trying to stretch out against his jeans for one thing. Catching his breath was getting harder with each bite, but the way Eijiro’s eyes lingered on him, curious and flustered, was enough for him to keep going. Was Eijiro blushing? He did like this, didn’t he?

Without a word, so as not to attract the attention of Denki and his loud ass mouth, Katsuki reached for Eijiro’s hand and pulled it across his waist. His boyfriend glanced over, but didn’t react much until Katsuki place his hand right above where his jeans were cutting into his stomach. His eyes widened, but even then he was smart enough to not to say anything. Katsuki wanted a reaction though. He wanted more than just a blush or a quick glance. He wanted some definitive proof.

So he continued to feed himself with one hand, while the other made it’s way under the table towards the lower half of his belly. He was going to get something from Eiji damn it! It took a little maneuvering, but he managed to get his hand around his pants button and carefully push it open. The relief he felt was instant and after adjusting his midsection a bit, it was neatly covering the buckle to his jeans so no one could even tell he’d unbuttoned them—one of the perks of being this size he supposed.

Slowly Katsuki looked over at Eijiro. He must’ve felt all of that, the way his stomach had suddenly gone from constrained to expanding with all the new room it now had? The skin was still stretched tight but he felt a little better. Their eyes met, Katsuki with his usual side eye and Eijiro staring at him with his brows raised high.

“Is something wrong?” Mina asked suddenly.

His boyfriend immediately turned red, “N-no, nothing’s wrong. I just…he looked really cute.”

“Pfft, you two are too adorable! You don’t have to be shy about it. As if we all don’t know you’re dating!” she laughed, not suspecting anything about their kinky escapades. Katsuki had to admit, he liked how nervous the question had made Eijiro. Seeing him get flustered like that at the idea of being caught was kind of thrilling. They’d never been the kind of couple to just broadcast their relationship but he could handle a little public foreplay.

While Mina giggled, Katsuki pressed Eijiro’s hand into his stomach. He didn’t care how full he was. He wanted to see more of his embarrassed reaction. To his surprise, Eijiro squeezed a handful of fat in response and now it was Katsuki’s turn to be the one caught off guard. He didn’t know what was more exciting, knowing Eijiro did in fact like this or trying to be discreet about what they were doing with their friends sitting at the same table?

Either way, it was the most fun Katsuki had had since losing his quirk.

He struggled through his third bowl, barely managing to scrape up the last bits of rice. His main motivation was Eijiro’s secret touches. Katuski had never been one for public displays of affection but something about this unspoken game they had going between them was turning him on so much more than it should. Fuck, so Eijiro liked him fat and he had what? A weird, risky PDA kink? He had to no idea how to take these new developments, but for now he’d just sit in the chair and try not to move too much. It was difficult when he could feel his dick pressing into the bottom of his stomach.

Why did he suddenly want to whisper that to Eiji? What the hell was going on?  

They sat like this at the table for maybe fifteen more minutes. Katsuki pretended to be interested in a story about a kid that had interned with Izuku a few weeks prior. Finally Denki and Mina announced they were leaving. Eijiro thought it best they leave too, before it got too late. Katsuki just thanked God that his stomach managed to hide his pants button because there was no way he was gonna get those closed again.

“It was nice to see you again Kacchan!” Deku called.

He was so preoccupied with making sure nobody saw his pants he accidently muttered back, “Yeah whatever, you too.”

X

“Are you happy now?” Katsuki asked when they finally walked into the door of their apartment. He’d never been so happy to get something over with in his life. At least in the cab, he hadn’t had to worry about being nice or dealing with his pants or manners in general. The worst part had been the cabdriver asking if he was really Ground Zero because ‘Ground Zero wasn’t that big, was he?’

“Oh come on it wasn’t that bad.”

“The food wasn’t bad,” Katsuki corrected. He would know considering how much he eaten. He’d been cradling his belly the entire ride home, trying to keep from getting sick every time their asshole driver hit a pothole. All he wanted now was to take his clothes off and get in bed with Eiji. “I ate way too much though.”

“You enjoyed yourself.”

“I made a fucking pig of myself.”

“Pigs are cute,” Eijiro added.

“You would think so.”

Immediately his boyfriend’s face was defaulting back to the bright crimson shade he’d found so endearing back at Deku’s. If they didn’t do something now he was going to lose it.

Nervously, Eijiro began to rub at his neck. “So are we gonna talk about this or…”

“I’d rather you do something about this hard on I’ve been dealing with since dinner instead.”

“O-oh! I ugh…” he stuttered as Katsuki started to walk down the hall to their room. He was tired of walking, of lugging all his extra weight up and down flights of stairs and hallways. He wanted to be on his back with Eijiro between his thighs, not standing here talking.  

He heard his boyfriend quickly shuffling behind him. Katsuki was already sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his palms, belly pushed forward onto his lap, when he walked in. He was sure he looked especially big from this angle and from the ravenous look Eijiro was sporting, he looked like he liked it.

“Damn Katuski.”

“I know. I look great. Stop gawking and help me get these clothes off.”

“I’m way ahead of you.”

He peeled Katsuki’s pants off first, tugging hard as they clung to his hips. It wouldn’t be long before even his newest pants were too tight. He’d probably needed the next size up honestly but he didn’t care enough about his appearance to try on more clothes. He sighed with relief when they were finally off. The seams had left marks in his pudgy thighs and on his hips. Eijiro traced them with his finger, careful not to apply too much pressure. His gentle touch tickled at his skin.

Fuck , this had no business being this hot.

Eijiros hands worked their way under the hem of his shirt next, leaving Katsuki in only his boxers in all his soft glory. Long gone were the visible muscles. His arms had lost almost all of their definition. His cheeks had softened enough to make him damn near look like a high schooler again. His thighs spread far enough to touch even when he wasn’t sitting. His belly perched on top of them, heavy and constantly full. His side rolls were on full display and he’d never felt more vulnerable. Still Eijiro stared like he was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

Katsuki couldn’t get a word in before Eiji was pulling his own shirt off and pressing their lips together. He moaned, letting loose completely and he fell to his back with his boyfriend on top of him. His hands bounced from one spot on Katsuki’s body to another, taking it in as if trying to memorize it by touch, like at any moment Katsuki would shove him off and all he’d have left were memories of how soft he’d felt.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to touch you like this forever.”

It was no secret Katsuki had been gaining weight for a while, and Eijiro had never shied away from it but he’d never grabbed him like this .

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think you’d like it,” he said before moving his mouth to Katsuki’s chest. He had his eyes on his nipples, soft and flabby, and he did not plan to skip over a single inch of him—no matter how long that took.

In all fairness, before his injury Katsuki wasn’t sure he would’ve liked how Eiji playing with his fat. Now it felt like they’d missed out on so many great nights together, nights Eijiro could’ve been massaging his belly while he sucked at his chest. Wasted opportunities.

Still Eijiro did not disappoint.

“You like that I’m fat,” Katsuki finally stated point blank.

Eijiro barely removed his mouth from his breast, “I think you always look good but yeah, I do.”

“Is that why you kept feeding me when I hurt? To make me bigger?” He wasn’t mad, just curious. It was hard for Katsuki to even focus on the answer when Eijiro ran his hands up his thighs and began pulling his boxers down.

“No. You just happen to eat a lot anyway. You always ate a ton during your heats remember?”

That was fair he supposed. His appetite had grown even before his injury. It only got worse when he’d been cooped up at home.

“Shut up.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Eijiro teased, throwing Katsuki’s boxers to the floor.

“No. Just stop playing around and fuck me already.”

He watched as Eijiro’s eyes narrowed, his pointy teeth forming into a wide grin. Katsuki couldn’t remember the last time his boyfriend had looked at him like this, but he remembered not being able to walk straight after.

X

“Fuck,” Katsuki panted, his belly rising and falling with each labored breath. He could literally see it moving, which wasn’t much of a surprise considering it want that hard to miss, especially when he was on his back.

Eijiro fit perfectly into the space beside him, draping his arm over his stomach and rubbing it with no shame. Katsuki figured he probably wouldn’t be holding back anymore.

“Was it good?” Eiji asked.

“If I would’ve known you had that in you, I woulda let you grab my gut a long time ago.”

For some reason Eijiro blushed, like he hadn’t just shamelessly plowed Katsuki into the mattress twice, squeezing his love handles so tight they would probably bruise. His boyfriend was such a dork.

“I didn’t really realize I was into it until after you got shot. It was like the more I took care of you and the bigger you got, it I don’t know. It was just really hot.”

“Well lucky for you I got shot then huh?” He meant it as a joke, but he’d never really been good at jokes, especially ones that didn’t involve sarcasm.

Eijiro looked up at him with those big read eyes with confusion. “Do you think so?”

“What? No…I don’t know. I mean I’d like it back but I’m not getting my hopes up any time soon. I don’t mind you taking care of me…not really. I might miss that.”

“We can cross that bridge when we come to it,” Eijiro assured before kissing his cheek gently. For a guy who preached manliness he could be damn soft sometimes.

Still Katsuki loved him he supposed, for some odd reason. Usually he liked to think it was the muscles, but right now it was the fact that he looked crazy hot sweating like he was, and Katsuki wanted more.

He turned onto his side, stomach falling onto the bed as he faced Eiji. “Ready for round three?”

“You want to go again?”

How could he not want to go again after the show Eijiro had put on earlier? Katsuki had never cum so hard in his life. “Remember when I agreed to go to dinner and you said you’d make it up to me?”

Eiji nodded.

“This is how you can do that.”

And Eijiro did, a third time, a fourth time and a fifth time when they woke up that morning.