fat one-shots | lovechunk

a wholesome one!!

   People always reminded Darcy he shouldn't use food to cope. When he started playing football at fourteen, he'd pack on the pounds during the off-season, and his mother would scold him for letting himself go. He didn't have a wonderful relationship with food, and it just so happened the woman he ended up dating was a baker who loved feeding him, what could he say? No? Food was all he had known, beginning when he turned sixteen. He was two-thirty then and people called him the biggest on the field because he was. At three-forty, he wasn't sure if he could pick up a football and even jog anymore.

Of course, he was still strong. That wasn't the issue. Every time he was upset he went to the fridge or asked Elsie to bake him something, and she knew not to, but she couldn't help herself. It didn't help that his day-to-day life was stressful, pushing him further down the rabbit hole and further up the scale as time went on.

"Three-sixty," he sighed to himself, regretting having turned to face the mirror. His gut drooped over his waistband and stuck out a bit, although it wasn't anything severe, Elsie praised often enough that he could predict how and when she'd say it. His thighs were built, but thickened as they now had extra padding on them, the same went for his arms. He had chubby cheeks, but his beard helped to disguise his double chin a bit, the only part he appreciated about himself was the fact he could hide a feature. His rear had gotten thicker, too. He'd always been told he had a wide ass, but not in a good way like Elsie said it. 

   People in the hallways shoved him and called him a double wide as if that did anything besides make him retreat to the fridge when he got to his mom's house that afternoon. Out of high school, he didn't experience it nearly enough to have the same effect it did on him when he was younger. 

   "I need to cut back on the snacking, Elsie." Darcy felt Elsie's hands wrap around his waist and squeeze his middle, sending an unnerving chill down his spine. ".. Don't you agree?" He secretly hoped she'd say no because he knew her well enough to know she didn't think like that. And if she did, she wouldn't say it to his face. 

   "You're perfect the way you are," Elsie praised softly, running her hands through Darcy's hair as best as she could given their height difference. Darcy rolled his eyes and huffed, slapping his stomach. It wobbled tremendously, which made him blush furiously. "You're just chubby. Well-fed." She tried to lighten his mood; to no avail. 

   "Well-fed?" Darcy laughed. "You can't think I look good like this, I refuse to believe it."

   "Well, I do," Elsie smirked. "I see a belly as a badge of honor. You're so soft and cuddly..." her voice trailed off as she squeezed him again, this time less gentle. "Anyway, I think you're perfect, so you should, too." She kissed his cheek by standing on her tippy-toes. 

   Darcy smiled softly, unable to keep from doing so. If Elsie thought he looked good, he didn't think anyone else's opinion mattered. She really loved him, but not as much as he loved and appreciated her.