Filling In

𝐓 𝐖 𝐎: picnic

Even now aware of his new found heft, Pietro couldn't stop his eating habits. It had become a comfort through his recovery, and now it seemed like there was no stopping him. If Pietro was aware of his weight gain, Laura, Clint, and their kids had to have been too. They weren't nearly as oblivious about the issue than Pietro once had been.

With Clint off on a mission, and the kids, minus little Nathanial off to school, it was mostly just Pietro and Laura at home during the day. It was nice, the house was quiet without the young kids in it. Not that Pietro hated it before, but sometimes the squeals got annoying.

Waking up to the smell of bacon and pancakes, Pietro smiled as he hoisted himself out of bed, not bothering to slip on a too tight shirt, going downstairs in only some ever tightening sweat pants.

"Morning." Pietro mumbled to Laura as he shuffled over to the cabinet, grabbing a plate to pile high with food. His stomach jiggled slightly with each step, a new sensation to Pietro.

"Good morning, Pietro!" Laura said and smiled as she took the plate from the Sokovian, and piled it high with bacon and pancakes, making sure to be liberal with the maple syrup. She was aware of how much weight Pietro was gaining, but since he wasn't actually her son, and he was a grown man, she figured it wasn't her place to speak on it. Besides, he seemed happy, and it wasn't hurting anyone. Laura was a mother. It's her job to make sure her kids, biological and not, are fed, and taken care of. If food was a comfort for Pietro now, she'd keep supplying it.

Pietro returned the smile, and his eyes beamed in excitement as he watched Laura fill his plate. "Thank you." He said, before stealing an extra piece of bacon, shoving it in his mouth, before he's walking over to the table, and sitting down. As he sat down, his stomach pushed his legs apart slightly, resting comfortably between them, and just barely spilling out onto his lap. Pietro wasted no time in sticking his fork into the stack of pancakes, and shoveling them into his mouth, practically moaning at the taste.

He made mumbled conversation with Laura as they ate breakfast, his mouth always being full, and speaking with half chewed food in his mouth. He couldn't do anything slow, not even eat. Nor did he want to. Whenever he ate, he just wanted to keep it flowing, keep it in his mouth. Pietro didn't like to feel hungry. Once he had finished three plates of breakfast, and the bits Laura couldn't finish, Pietro sat back slightly in the chair, his stomach swelled out in front of him.

"Thanks again for breakfast." Pietro said, hand patting his middle. He'd never get sick of Laura's food. Especially those pancakes. They were rich, fluffy, buttery goodness. And her bacon was always cooked to the perfect crispness.

With a warm smile, Laura nodded, picking up their dishes. "Of course, Pietro. Glad you enjoyed it." She said, kissing his head as she walked past him. His appetite only seemed to grow, even now, after his recovery. Laura was starting to think that maybe it was a result from his ptsd, or anxiety. But again, it wasn't her place to pry. "Hey," she said, leaning against the counter. "How does a picnic later sound? When the kids come home from school?" She said, smiling.

Pietro nodded, leaning back to look at Laura. He couldn't be bothered with getting up. He was too full from the breakfast, yet he could go for a snack, he though. "That sounds nice. . we could have it right here, outside on the field." Pietro shrugged, smiling.

—
Before lunchtime came around, Pietro was up in his room, contemplating if he should work out or not. After all, he was an avenger now, and would need to get back to work eventually. But the thought of running, or exercising, sounded torturous to him. Besides, none of his work out clothes would fit anymore. Everything was shrinking as his waistline expanded.

Staring down at his pot belly, Pietro couldn't help but laugh. There once was a chiseled six pack there. He used to have a physic most men would kill for, and now, here he was, permanently bloated. Grabbing a handful of his stomach and shaking it, Pietro bit down on his lip. God that felt good. He was so soft.

Again, his trance was broken when it came time for lunch. Downstairs he went, where he was presented with another glorious spread of Mrs. Barton's food.

—
When dinner time had rolled around, Pietro had just woken from a nap, and was tasked with rounding up all the kiddos, bringing them outside while Laura made dinner. This was an easy task for Pietro. He loved the kids like little siblings, and they (seemingly) loved him as a big brother, too. They had a great bond, and luckily, the kids listened well to him.

With all the kids out at the field, waiting for dinner, Pietro took his seat on a nice, soft spot of grass, watching as they all ran around and played tag. Maybe 60 pounds ago, Pietro would've joined them in running around, showing off even, but now, he wasn't going to. He didn't even want to think of running.

"Alright guys!" Chimed Laura's familiar voice, and all the kids ran back to the blanket, taking their seats. Pietro's smile grew then. He loved watching the Barton Family. It reminded him of his own family all those years ago.

His smile soon faded when he saw another head coming up the hill. It definitely wasn't Clint. . All the kids were accounted for. Pietro was confused, until finally, the figure appeared.

A few blinks, after he's processing whose in front of him. Oh my god. . .

Pietro stood up, running over to the person, arms wrapping around them.

"Wanda. . ."