Chapter Text
The door to the apartment slammed open and brought Emily out of her reverie. Startled, she stopped what she was doing and left the kitchen to investigate. Wiping her hands on her apron, she watched her girlfriend stagger into the hall, panting heavily.
"Sorry I'm late, luv," Lena gasped. Her big gut surged with each laboured breath, her jacket open to accommodate it. "You have no idea how hard it is to find parking for a jet belonging to an outlawed organization in this town."
Tracer gave Emily an apologetic grin, chubby cheeks bulging to look even more like red apples from the winter cold. The only concession made to the weather was a scarf and wool baselayer. Still, even this stretchy fabric failed to entirely cover the hefty agent's substantial bulk. Tights slipped down to reveal a wide band of wobbly gut, chunky lovehandles laid bare to bulge out under the tautly stretched jacket.
"Oh and the accelerator charge keeps depleting for some reason..." Tracer straightened up and tapped the temporal anchor affixed to her ample chest. Emily swallowed hard.
It took the redhead a while just to take in her girlfriend. All of her. Especially how much more of her there was, with little left to the imagination by the tight wool costume. Acting on instinct, Emily stepped forward and put an arm around her lover. As she hugged her, pulling herself into Lena's soft belly flab, she rubbed the agent's exposed flesh.
"You must be freezing, you poor thing," Emily mumbled into Lena's neck between kisses. Simply to double check – and nothing else – her fingers dug into the softness of the plump lovehandle. Massaging it and letting pliable chub fill her hand. There was definitely more of it than she remembered. And so much softer, she mused as a small moan escaped her lips.
Blushing, Emily pulled back and cleared her throat evasively. "Uhm... so let's get you into a nice jumper and some hot chocolate into you!"
Tracer giggled happily at the suggestion, sending a jolly quiver through her ample form. Emily gave said form a loving pat and went off to fetch something. She quickly returned, triumphantly holding up a massive tent of a Christmas sweater: "I bought this for you!"
Emily's beaming smile was met with a gasp. Lena's brow furrowed, the beginnings of a pout fighting for supremacy on her lips.
"What's the matter? Don't you like the reindeer...?"
Lena averted her eyes, shifting her bulk awkwardly. Finally she managed to voice her concern: "No, no it's just... why can't I just borrow one of yours, like usual?" She sounded genuinely upset with the break in tradition.
"Eh?" The reason was blindingly obvious to anyone else, but Emily could not bring herself to voice it. Just between last Christmas and the last time they saw each other, Lena's potbelly had already more than doubled in size. On top of that, the portly agent clearly hadn't been starving since then either. There was no way any of Emily's old sweaters could even begin to cover that gut, much less be pulled down her chunky sides.
"Hey, aren't you wearing a new jumper too?" a puzzled Tracer pointed out.
Emily tugged awkwardly at said garment's hem, averting her gaze. "Uhm... uh... oh! I think dinner's just about ready!"
"Really??" Tracer exclaimed excitedly, her misgivings instantly evaporated. "I better get changed then!"
"Cheers luv, the holidays are here!" The cheery announcement made Emily jump around. Filling the doorway to the small kitchen, Lena posed triumphantly in her new outfit. Even with arms stretched out, the knitted tent managed to cover both belly and lovehandles – with enough to spare for most of her billowing butt. Hugging the rotund agent's curves, the festive red and green made her look like a particularly enormous Christmas tree ornament.
"You look lovely," Emily smiled, oblivious to the fact that the hand mixer in her hand was dripping batter onto the floor.
"Thanks," Lena winked and put a hand behind her head to assume a more seductive pose. The goofy reindeer stretching over her big gut undermined the effort significantly. "Told you I've been working out lately."
"R-right!" Emily nodded weakly, especially as it became clear her girlfriend had been sucking in her gut while she was showing off. Deforming Rudolf even more, Lena let go – and inflated that much further in the process. This would have to be the kind of workout that made you put on a couple of stone.
There was a flash of mischief in Lena's eye, just before she took advantage of Emily's distraction to lunge forward. With a deft swipe, her finger stole a dollop of batter from the forgotten hand mixer and popped it into her mouth.
With a thoughtful "mmh", Tracer glanced down at herself. Licking her lips, she smirked up at Emily: "Looks like there's a mistletoe on my tits..."
More familiar with this kind of boorish behaviour, Emily managed to return to normal and gave her girlfriend a look of mild exasperation.
"I don't make the rules," Lena shrugged and patted the mistletoe pattern on her bouncing bosom before making exaggerated kissy faces at her partner.
As usual, Emily couldn't help but be charmed by Tracer's goofiness. She put away the hand mixer and spread her arms and chuckled: "Come here, you."
Giggling, Tracer slipped into her lover's embrace. If not a kiss on her bosom, she got one on her lips as Emily's clashed passionately with hers. The redhead's fingers dug into Lena's soft flab as she pulled herself deeper into the kiss, pausing only briefly to let out a loud moan.
Still able to reach around her own bulk, especially with Emily sinking into it, Lena's hands explored Emily's hips. Holding her tight. Sliding up the tight fabric of her jeans. Tugging playfully at the hem of her lover's sweater, Tracer's hands slipped underneath, reaching for bare flesh.
At the touch, Emily jolted back and averted her eyes. Panting she pulled awkwardly at her sweater and cleared her throat. She put a hand to her burning cheek and muttered: "I... better check on the roast..."
Still in lust's grasp, Lena blinked dumbly: "Uh, sure..." This time, not even the mention of food could quell her suspicions and she gave Emily a worried look.
The redhead grinned sheepishly: "Why don't you have a little head start... there are cookies in the living room."
Tracer was visibly swayed by this argument, if not entirely convinced.
Deftly, Emily snatched up a chocolate-covered profiterole from a stack on the counter. Equally deftly she popped it into Lena's mouth and smiled: "I won't tell if you don't."
Tracer lounged snugly on the sofa, spilling a little over the side for good measure. Hefty thighs pushed up her doughy boulder of a belly, chin resting on a soft pillow of chub that threatened to engulf it if she inclined her head any further. Idly stuffing her face with cookies from the tin perched on her belly, she stared at the holiday programming streaming on the screen off to her side.
"Ah thanks, luv!" Accepting another refill on her hot chocolate, Tracer tore herself away long enough to give Emily a loving smile. Eagerly, she downed half the mug in one go.
Chuckling to herself, Emily went back to setting the table. Old-fashioned plates and utensils were followed by heaped bowls of mashed potatoes, sauces and all manner of side dishes.
Every so often the redhead would glance over at her girlfriend. Pausing with a pitcher of gravy in her hands, her brow furrowed. Cocoa consumed, the hand holding the mug hung limply at Lena's side while her left hand languidly tossed gingerbread cookies into her mouth.
It occurred to Emily that usually her girlfriend would impatiently ask to help, but this year it seemed Lena was too busy lazing in front of the vidscreen. Perhaps she was too preoccupied stuffing her face to even notice. It was Emily's turn to experience a break with tradition. Still, as her judging gaze lingered on her girlfriend's bloated form; hefty gut, hugged by red-and-green wool. bulging around chunky thighs... as her spine tingled with each cookie Lena popped into her mouth, plump arm blending with ample bosom as she reached over it... any hint of ill feeling quickly dissipated.
Instead Emily let Lena finish every single cookie before clapping her hands: "Dinner is served!"
At this welcome call, Tracer rolled out of more than she rose from the sofa. A far cry from the nimble sylph Emily had fallen in love with – but with the same bubbly enthusiasm: "Aww yeah!"