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Tony was annoyed. For one, he wasn't a big fan of being at galas with small portions with his even smaller fuse. He did not like talking to other “rich people”. The only thing they shared was wealth, and even then he felt out of place with all the sleazy businessmen around. There was a time and place for his annoyance however, so keeping a straight face was top priority.
Tony was slipping.
Normally, at every other point in time, Tony would be perfectly fine with people talking about him. It's not like he couldn't hear, and the fact was that the lies were almost laughable. It's not like they didn't hurt his feelings just a little bit. Just because it was more about him, not just his company, but he was a big boy now. He could handle it. He could look the other way. Tune it out as best as he could and listen to the jazz playing over the speakers in the background.
Although this was not any other time. Tony was tired. He was annoyed, tired, and really fucking hungry. Those emotions do not mix well. It's bad enough as is that it was 10:36pm at night at this stuffy ass building in the mountains at whoever–the–fuck–knows–where. The portion sizes were smaller than his palm – and god he missed Steve. Too many things to worry about.
He licked his lips, Tasting the flavor of nothing but his dry tongue. Tony blinked. A low growl escaped from his stomach. The hunger was getting unbearable…
Tony focused back on the table in front of him. Of people he barely recognized and did not care about. They were soft spoken, seemingly interested in playing up whatever new deal they had made in the last week and a half, he could also recognize words about something else, but the buzz in his ears, his practically empty stomach, and the lack of care couldn't even give him the reason to read their lips and get into the gossip.
The table next to his was different. It was loud. Annoying. Not exactly what Tony needed at this current moment. There was a man at the center, women ordained at his side like jewelry, clinging on to him and sapping up any drop of his attention. He watched as more people gathered around the gaze of a blind horse.
There was a man in the center, with the name of Maddox Steele, and he made Tony sick. For one, he wasn't well dressed. Too tight pants. His blazer was lazily buttoned in the wrong spot and there was a wrinkled button down underneath. His pants were high over his ankles. Poor taste. Even from just that lack of care from his suit, Tony could tell what type of man he was.
Tony already didn't like him, he was an attention seeking slug and the way Steele treated the people around him pissed Tony off, and the shareholders seemed to share the same opinion, because they were giving him laps of stuff for his brain to worry about.
But. Even Tony could admit, The man was interesting. From the Steele Manufacturing Company (Yeah, the name is a bit on the nose.) The CEO had appeared in social circles suddenly overnight, (whether that be to replace the stardom that had once belonged to Tony, Which was INCREDIBLY UNWARRANTED, by the way. He was still here–) and made his place as the local new playboy down the street. Much to Tony’s own annoyance due to his constant attention-seeking nature.
Tony scoffed at the sound of that, totally not even a tiny bit of jealousy dripping from that though, letting his palm hold up his face. ‘The new Local playboy? Oh honey, he hasn't seen anything yet.’
He could hear the man speak. Loud, booming, attention grabbing, deep while also an incredibly boring version of “sexy.” Steele was most likely around his own age.. Although whatever he said didn't give that impression, It was mostly just lame and boring words of self praise. Not something a seasoned veteran such as himself would say.
In most contexts, Tony would not have cared about him. Although, he was awfully familiar. Soon after, Steele started speaking about Stark Industries, and, well, Tony is always one to listen to the complaints about his own creations.
Tony shuffled past people in short dresses and the same black and white suits, downing the sparkling juice he had in his hand and placing the empty glass on the tray of a moving butler. People he knew turned to people he didn't, flashy colors blending into the background as he strolled over to the man in question. In a mere second, he was pulled to the side by someone who looked uglier than Hammer. Although to be fair, that isn’t necessarily a high bar.
Now, half of Tony's waist was being guided somewhere he didn’t want to be, and Tony was starting to realize that maybe wearing this dress was a bad idea – especially when people confused him for a woman too fucking much for comfort.
“You know ladies, with the introduction of Steele’s green manufacturing side, I think we could really topple the spot Stark Industries has, well, bought out for so long.” Steele bragged, interrupting any thought Tony could’ve had.
Bought out? Tony thought. What the hell is he talking about? Is every person who ever gets into this market a cocky dumb-asshole? (Although, to be fair, so was he, but he has the fucking charm, dammit! Not.. whatever this is.) It was like having annoying cocky mini-mes always having to be fought off. Mini-me lesser so, more like mini-dipshits. He was honestly getting really tired of this whole ordeal, to be completely honest. Maybe it would be best to lay off on the company events for the foreseeable future..
The woman on his left giggled, asking the vaguest, most surface level questions, seemingly interested in whatever Steele was saying, and now Tony was sitting uncomfortably on that annoying man’s lap while Steele turned his attention to who he thought was someone else.
So Tony laughed, trying to play cute and submissive, hand over his face to hide his beard. (As much as he hated being that for anyone else but Steve.) The other woman spoke again, now that Tony could look a little closer, he could realize her expression was more of greed rather than lust, her golden brown hair cascading down in tight curls, and he noticed grey eyes that were barely visible.
It seemed to him like the girls were purely there for his rapidly growing stack of money, and truth be told, Tony couldn't blame them. If he had to suck up to out-of-touch rich people all the damn time, he'd just use them for money too. Hell, he did that shit on multiple occasions just for the hell of it.
Steele then turned his attention towards Tony, his hands tapping against his wrist like a weirdly annoying call. “How about you, sweetheart?” Steele said, another dry arm wrapping scarily close to Tony’s waist, “I’d be able to give you some of my own if you're interested in my future empire.”
Tony internally gagged, tensing immediately. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. EW. NO!
He swallowed, slow and hard, inching further and further away from bullshit-asshole he doesn't want to name. Is this how he acted towards other women? Tony hopes the hell not, because he at least had the ability to not be a fucking creep like most people are in this area. Male pregnancy implications be damned to fucking hell.
Tony coughed. “Sorry, no. I've always been–ah,” he clicked his tongue, trying his damnedest to escape while those claws pulled him back in, laughing as an attempt to distract himself. “--more interested in Stark Industries, all things considered.”
Steele didn't seem remotely pleased with this response, slinking his hands further around Tony's form, and he ended up cursing himself internally for not dropping this little excursion earlier. “Hm, well, that's too bad, isn't it? Steele Manufacturing will make it past Stark industries in soon to be a few months,” Then, his hand started to slightly move. “Don't you think you want to join me in that and leave the frankly outdated software behind?”
From what he could see, Steele’s face looked like a cold, wounded puppy, but from his own perspective, it was more like a dead rat that was begging to be kicked; And his hands were the last thing Tony ever wanted near him, and so, Tony froze.
His own hand was firmly onto Steele’s, which was in a constant state of grasping air. The strength he had, on top of his sure-to-leave-a-mark cat nails, were fueled by his annoyance.
“Again, No.” Tony warned, whipping his head around, hatred dripping off of his words, eyes pointed like daggers into the man's skull. “And Frankly, I'm tired of people like you thinking that they can just “topple” my company so easily.”
Steele took a far a bit back, the girls he had around seemed to escape to the next person to leech off of, leaving only him and Tony alone as Tony let go of the man’s hand and maneuvered to his own place on the long couch, wiping off his dress as he finally got to stand up.
Steele stuttered, still on edge. “M-Mr–! I didn't—realize that was you,” Tony smirked, nonchalantly waving his hand. “It's not a big deal. Usually, people who aren't as experienced in this area, won't know how it actually is.” Steele seemed dutifully offended by that comment, and honestly it could honestly be up to anyone’s interpretation whether or not he did it intentionally. The man's face seemed quick to flash from what he wanted to say and what he should say.
He started to speak, but Tony ended up cutting him off. “Actually, since I'm not one to be a prick, a few associates of mine have been interested in partnering with you, considering you're an up-and-coming company, after all. Are you interested in that?” Tony offered, not looking up, focused on cleaning the grime under his nails.
Steele managed a strained smile, mumbling an annoyed “up-and-coming–?” before fully accepting his offer. “Oh? Really?” he licked his lips, straightening his back and smoothing down his hair. “Well, that would be beneficial to both of us, Mr.. Stark-Rogers. A business partnership is.. just what I'm looking for.” His tone at the end was inquisitive, teetering on the edge of being scared and overconfident, and he ended up looking around the room for an answer.
Tony then nodded, tuning around with the clack of his heels to follow. “I’ll meet you in the conference room, and please, call me Tony.”
For the time being, Tony was in the private conference room alone, and he opted to temporarily forgo the heels in favor of some flats, mostly because as much he loved wearing heels: they made his feet hurt like a bitch. Slipping them off, he made a note of the room he was currently in.
To all of the party’s glamour, The conference room itself wasn't all that interesting compared to the old money style of the ballroom. It was very much like it was taken out of a business design issue from just last year.
There was a seating area where Tony currently was, it was where some of the couches and side chairs from the ballroom seemed to be moved to instead. But brown and gold motif aside, it was just.. there. The light coating of dust on the vintage lamp’s stand signaled to him that this place hadn't been used in about a month or so.
So, Seriously, what was he even doing here? He should be at home with Steve! But he's at this boring party with Mr. High Horse and suddenly he's starting to realize why he rarely – if ever – goes to these anymore. But, shareholders love good publicity, right?
Tony just rolled his eyes. Dammit, fuck the shareholders.
Surprisingly, At the near end of Tony's internal longing, Steele finally appeared in the few minutes he said he would, sitting down on the couch across from Tony's own.
“So,” Tony began.
“So.” Steele responded.
Tony spoke first. “Let's be real here. My shareholders are not interested in you. They are scared of you for some goddamn reason.”
Steele scoffed. “I have no idea why.”
Tony leans back on his couch, folding one of his legs over the other. “We don't do weapons manufacturing. I don't see what they are so scared of, and I can't tell if it's any sort of competition or the fact that they go rabid over the idea of them not getting their billion dollar allowances.”
Steele looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “I mean, as you said, I'm an up-and-coming company. Surely they're just overreacting, right?”
Tony straightens, “No.” staring at Steele dead in the eyes. “In most contexts, you would be correct. That’s typical of them. But. Your company has other things going on with it that has piqued their interest. It only came up about a year and half ago, and yet is already leading the forefront on military weapon manufacturing.” A pause. “But,”
“But?”
“But,” he repeated, elongating the silence for dramatic effect. “You’ve seemingly dropped that side out of the blue as a cost-cutting measure,” he held his Stark Phone up onto the article which had been released a day or two prior. The article it read out was strikingly similar to a previous event that had happened nearly 18 years ago.
Steele Manufacturing follows Stark’s footsteps.. Is Weapons Manufacturing dying once again? Recent interview reveals that their manufacturing wing will cease creation by February 8th as new cost cutting measures emerge..
Steele merely glanced at the article, a small smirk creeping up on his lips, “So? People do that all the time now. You were one of the largest – and the first — to do it, but now it’s seen as an easy way to get in and get out. Reap the benefits and make a new project.”
The man looked at Tony with a certain look in his eyes. Now that most of Tony’s annoyance had dissipated from a boiling pot to a simmer, he was starting to realize that talking to the man without outside forces wasn’t all that bad. Sure, he could be a womanizing prick, but otherwise his non caring nature was honestly refreshing. Albeit a bit familiar and annoying. “While that is true, you seemed to have been incredibly interested in what Stark Industries has been doing for the past few years, almost to the point of near copycat-ing”
Steele spoke, a laugh low in his throat. “Oh, so now you’re implying I may have stolen your ideas?”
Tony laughed too. “Hm. Not me, that’s just what my shareholders are saying. I don’t mean to pry, but is there any specific reason why you’ve been consistently at all my showcases for at least the past few years? Or, the fact that you keep calling people in my company to ask them about their “open data leaks?”
Steele sputtered, Tony just kept going. “Despite the fact that, All in all, I am not against competitiveness. It’s good for business. Brand loyalty is something of a wonder. Yet, you keep prying into places that you are not supposed to be. So, I get suspicious.” Tony straightened himself up on his chair, and looked at the other man before him. “Initially, I wasn't even going to talk to you. I didn’t even wanna be here. But especially with your little… outing earlier, i think it was high time i’d confront you now. Especially considering the purchase you made of Steele Industrial just over a year and half ago?”
In the moments after, Steele’s face was permanently stuck in a wide-eyed expression. He looked at Tony blankly for a second, sweat covering his forehead, muttering to himself before he lunged at Tony and grabbed him by the front of his dress. “How do you know that?” Steele yelled, his words bordering on strangled while he pulled on the bodice. “I don’t – ugh. — know what you’re talking about.” Tony manages, the neck rim of the dress nearly made a friction burn on the back of his neck. “You bought Steele industries nearly two years ago, correct? It’s public info by now, you know.” Tony summarized, right before he was pushed back on the couch by Steele and essentially cornered there with his arms held down. “No, No, No. NO! I made sure. I made sure. I was the only one, I was the heir. How the fuck do you know about that, huh?!” Steele shouted, angrily looking at Tony without any second thought.
Tony felt sweat drip down his neck, mostly because he had forgotten to bring his armor with him, and also because he didn’t find this situation particularly appealing, especially with how tired and hungry he currently was. “I didn’t know everything, Maddox. But I do know a few things,” he said, pushing up on Steele’s chest and scooting further on the cushion. “You bought that company for a reason. I can tell, you wanted to be bigger than everyone else.” Steele corrected him. “No.” Tony went on. “You were always in third place.” Steele shouted louder, gripping onto him. “No!”
He pushed further. “I know now why you seemed so damn familiar. It is because you are not “Maddox Steele”-- that is the name you created in the same vein as the company you have acquired. Your true name is–” Before Tony could reveal it, Maddox immediately slapped his hand over Tony's mouth, and instead of a gasp of air, Tony bit down, making deep teeth marks on Steele’s pale skin. A “Fuck!” escaped from his lips, and he watched as Steele hastily pulled his hand away, holding it in his other with an ingrained ferver, his eyes shaken, scared of what was to come if Tony called his name.
Tony looked at the man. The impromptu bite wasn’t just for self-defense, it was instinct at this point– he was fucking starving. Tony licked his lips, he needed a meal 10 hours ago, but he continued anyway. “For your true name– is WELDEN BRONZE! Now, I remember you. You were always 3rd place under Me and then Hammer in all of our competitions…” Tony looked at him and laughed a bit harder. “Hah. I guess you really lived up to the name bronze, huh?” Maddox — Now revealed to be Welden, look at Tony with unfiltered anger, like a chained up dog finally let loose, contemplating every word in his head, “God, I fucking hate you, Stark.” he says, ultimately.
Tony laughs, hard and fake, “You aren’t the first one,” looking up at the contrasting ornate ceiling and scoffing. Welden gazed at him, eyes narrowed as he finally let go of Tony’s dress, allowing Tony to let out a gasp at how hard he was pulling on the damn thing. “You were supposed to be mine,” he whispered, looking down with his bangs falling over his face. Tony’s gaze softened out of pity. “I’m sorry, but that was a long, long time ago. You have to let me go.”
“No.”
“No?” Tony asks.
“No.” Welden concludes.
“You can’t just–” Tony begins, and then Welden has his hands inside his mouth this time, he tightens the grip on Tony’s leg. “I’m tired of not getting what I want.” He repeats, almost to himself, like a plea for someone to give him everything. Tony, unable to speak, does not verbally respond.
With the hunger Tony had been carrying for nearly 9 hours, the now disgusted, visibly repulsed look on Welden’s face makes it all worth it to finally have his meal.
Tony swallows.
Tony suddenly sucks welden’s hand down his throat, pulling it down, ignoring the incoherent sounds of whatever his prey is saying and continuing to swallow. Now one hand down is his throat, and Tony’s hand now grabbing the other, beginning to widen his jaw so he can fit more. The way the man tastes despite whatever else he brings to the table might be the main thing Tony’s getting out of this, His prey tastes amazing.
Tony doesn’t really register much else besides his mouth welcoming his prey’s head, making sure to shove him inside before he could make any more noise. His prey being coated with saliva and Tony’s body letting in a hot warm meal made him all the more eager to frantically move the clothes off his prey (something that was harder to get out than it was in,) and eat. Tony can feel how he struggles against his throat, the muffled sounds of fear tickling his esophagus — which were fucking hot — nearly starting his near-non-existent gag reflex, but Tony kept him down, making sure he wouldn't escape, then it the chest went down too, and his digestive system ached while the legs just slowly slid inside, squished inside the small, wet tube that led to their demise.
The feeling of prey going down his throat was honestly such a euporia-inducing experience. He wanted to keep going, it felt too good. Like that was how he was supposed to be acting the entire time. He swallows hard, feeling his prey move further down, reminding himself he hadn’t had a prey like this in a long time, so It would take him a bit longer to get back used to swallowing. Most of his prey is now deep in the esophagus, stretching his body wider than Tony had ever thought possible for it to do, feeling his meal slowly sink deeper into the darkness of Tony's gut as it frantically tries to save itself to no avail. Then, the feet go last, kicking, begging, wiggling as they slip onto his tongue, and then there’s nothing. The cute little struggles his prey made didn't phase him as he threw the man’s jeans and boxers across the floor without a care, annoyed at their appearance, and then the sinking feeling in his chest took shape with one final gulp, Tony’s hungry stomach finally filled up with his meal. His gut, now swelling out into a round amorphous blob, had a few rips and tears result from his poor dress, an unfortunate causality.
Tony let out a moan of contentment and then a burp, rubbing his swollen belly and listening to the gurgles and sloshes as his gut tries to adjust to its increased, stretched size. His dress was ripped all the way to the front, sadly unable to hold the increased capacity of Tony's stomach. He can hear the muffled words of his prey, but they only come out as small “Mphs!”, and “Mhs!”, so Tony just decides to slap his large belly, teasing. “Awh, You should’ve thought about that before I ate you, darling,” Tony looked down, wistful and sated. “Still mad I had to ruin my dress, though.” He sighed, grumbling, noticing the outward curve of his stomach and the redness near his belly button. That in of itself was definitely a turn on.
Tony’s stuffed, and he panted, unable to properly breathe. He doesn’t know what to do now, and glancing at the myriad of clothes on the floor, his instincts didn’t know what to do either. Letting out another burp, It’s only a bit later that he finally notices the little kicks inside his gut, making little bulges visible on his stretched skin. It’s a weird but not bad feeling, and the squirming doesn’t really help his prey much, just making him digest faster in Tony’s stomach acid. It's very satisfying, almost soothing, and with his stretched, fully, warm belly, he nearly starts to drift off into sleep. It’s nice, Tony thinks, rubbing his belly. Like after Steve cooks me a warm meal.
The only problem was that he was still hungry. He could fit something else in here, surely, despite how his belly seemed to be stretched to his limit. Then, Tony again acted on instinct. He has decided. He wanted another prey. Tony was still so hungry, so he wanted something else, too. Maybe some dessert? There was pie on the menu, right?
So, he went to find another prey, waiting till somebody else walked into the room, and he swallowed them whole too, savoring the amazing feeling of them going down his throat and landing in his stomach. His belly was now double in size, gurgling and groaning, making him belch, and that just made it worse, now he wanted more. Despite the fact that the large amount of weight piled on his stomach was starting to make it harder to breathe, especially with the arc reactor, the desire was ingrained. For some reason, he was so hungry, He just couldn’t control himself! First it was one, then two — then four — and suddenly, Tony didn't know how to stop, and Tony was a ways off towards forty-five by the time he knew how to.
Steve wasn’t exactly sure what he was imagining when Tony had called him this late to say “Please come pick me up,” and “I've done something really really bad–” over sobs and sniffles. Steve was kinda surprised, not only because this was just a routine gala, one Tony had remarked before he left as “boring,”. But also because he could tell Tony was hiding something over the call.. Something could only vaguely pick up on.. That being the small stomach gurgles he had heard from his StarkPhone’s semi-loud speaker.
He knew Tony would never do anything crazy, or terrible, but he wasn’t expecting.. This.
When he came through those doors, he did not expect a very, very engorged Tony, with a very pretty, large, belly, sobbing quietly in the middle of the room, on the floor, with his dress nearly ripped to tatters.
“Tony,” Steve called, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. God, Tony was absolutely gorgeous like that.
“Steve!” Tony cried, rubbing the tears away from his glossy eyes, slowly watching as Steve got closer and closer to his body, stepping over piles of clothes and fabric that seemed to get larger towards where Tony was in the large banquet hall.
“Hey, baby,” Steve started, eyes flickering up and down Tony’s–oh god he was so pretty—form, only just then realizing that Tony had grown substantially in height, making sure to stand on his tippy-toes to give a kiss on his husband's cheek. “What happened?”
Tony looked shy, like he was going to cry–and he did, A lot. Wet tears accented the blush spread across his cheeks as he began to explain what had happened. “Steve – I swear to god – I didn't mean to do–” he gestured towards his belly, “this,” and frowned, “but well – you see – there was this man – and he was a real dick, Steve, a bitch. I did not like him. Not one bit.”
Okay, he was a bad person. Steve summarized in his head, “And what did you… do to him?” He asked. Tony looked surprised that steve was even asking the question, but went on anyway, “Well – he talked about my company, steve, and well, I wouldn’t usually care–”
“But you did this time, right?” Steve interjected. “Why?”
Tony’s eyes flashed with worry before returning back to normal, “Yes, I did, and the reason for that was that was because he seemed a bit off, so i approached him, right, and well, he grabbed my waist, and well, then realized it was me so we went to go talk and then. I. Um.” Tony continued, faltering near the end with a shy timidness.
“Tony.” Steve asked again, focused. “What did you do?”
Tony looked at him, contemplating within that incredible brain of his, and continued to rub his belly while he thought. It was mostly silent, and Tony looked like he was going to just stay silent, but then suddenly Tony blurted it out, slamming his eyes shut like Steve was going to kill him. “I ate him.”
Steve was.. Confused? “What? What do you mean by “You ate him?” Now, Steve was not an idiot. He could tell that this was not exactly cannibalism, this was something.. Separate. He was sure that Tony was going to tell him what he meant by that eventually, although his husband seemed way less interested in telling him anything in the first place.
Tony sighed. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just. Swallowed them whole,” Tony licked his lips thinking about it. “Not a bad meal though, all things considered.” Steve laughs, beginning to rub Tony’s belly absentmindedly, the gears turning his head at a sudden realization. “Oh? Really? How good was your meal, baby?” he whispers, soothing.
Tony jerks up for a second, staring at him. “Steve. I’m not sure you–” He began, but Steve interrupted him, massaging the taut flesh with his fingers, making Tony let out a small urp and then a moan. “No,” he smirked. “I think I do. It’s a vore thing, right?” Now, it was Tony’s turn to be confused, “--?? Steve, baby, how do you know about that?”
Steve just shrugs, mesmerized by the gurgling coming from Tony’s stomach. “I’ve seen ‘tuff”, he answers, leaning on Tony’s gut, listening to the prey inside being digested and soon turned into nothing more than muscle and fat, watching whoever's inside pressing outward as a false means of escape, and then continuing to knead his belly, it soft and malleable.
“BwOOoRp— fuck –” Tony belches out, releasing it from the cage of his throat, with Steve feeling the vibration against Tony's skin and under his palms. Tony was now leaning back on the floor with a huff, his belly jiggling with nothing but slow, subtle movements. It seems digesting has finally started, and Steve is way more fascinated and into it than he ever thought he’d be. He liked Tony’s belly, and he liked rubbing it too, the way he looked was honestly breathtaking. Steve entertained himself a little bit, Maybe next time he could feed Tony his prey and then rub his belly at home…?
“Does that feel good, hun?’ Steve asks, and Tony nods, letting out another small burp, eyes lidded, “That.. feels amazing…” he manages, sleepy again, groaning as the extra weight he had already digested settled on some of his best features, giving some extra curve to Tony's form. Steve nuzzled into Tony’s belly, adoring it, loving it, wanting to make sure that the weight packed on top of him wasn’t too much for him to handle. Digesting would be better if Steve helped him, and he liked taking care of Tony whenever he was needed to. It was what he should do.
After a while, his round belly had packed right down into fat, with a bit of chub peaking over alongside the still digesting prey. Tony opened one sleep eye, which just looked at Steve while he just stared back, embarrassed. “Sorry, Tony, I–” he apologies, careful, but Tony just shushes him, smiling. “No, you did good. I liked it. It was nice. Thank you.”, Tony praises, taking a glance at his jutted out stomach – now to a point where the weight won't immediately push him down — and stands. He wobbles for a bit, but does stand.
Tony lets out a hefty breath, muttering a “full..” as one hand rubs his belly,his stomach letting out a small grumble, maybe in reply? “We need to go, steve. I don’t wanna know what’s gonna happen if they – Urp! –” he cotinues, apologizing. “-- Excuse me , – find out Tony Stark ate a percent of the world’s 500,” He frowns, letting the room they’re currently both in speak for itself.
Steve nods, going towards the emergency staircase. “Okay. We can be quick.” , he says, grabbing Tony’s hand and leading him along, stepping over the piles of clothes, and Tony catches one on the way that he hopes can cover up whatever else he’s going to have to carry for the next few hours.
The armor gets there in seconds flat, he calls for F.R.I.D.A.Y to remove any camera footage at that party in the last few hours. By the time they get home, when Steve asks, Tony doesn’t even remember his prey’s name - he just falls asleep in Steve’s arms, tired. Steve hums happily, small sounds of whines and gurgles escape from his lover and his belly continues to be rubbed and cared for, exactly what his predator deserves.
The next morning..
Tony groaned. He tried pulling down his shirt angrily, face red, but it wouldn't budge. After his giant meal last night, all the people he had eaten had “gracefully” settled as fat onto other parts of his body, muscle on others. His top half had gained a bit of weight on the muscle side, giving him some more lean muscle with the added fat.
On the bottom half, a sizable amount of chub went to his belly, something Steve seemed to really like, mostly because of the extra weight and the fact it jiggled in the way where his husband kept trying to grab his “love handles” and make out with him from behind. It was mostly annoying because Steve had done it twice this morning, and he was sure to come around for a third attempt. Tony thought it was odd, how he kept kissing and rubbing all over him, saying how beautiful and gorgeous and pretty he was like that. Did Steve have a kink for bellies? Now that was new and confusing.
Tony’s thighs got thicker too, to the point they just gave him friction burn just from looking at any pair of shorts, honestly, Steve liked those too, and they didn't come without any muscle (albeit drowned in the sea of his fat thighs), but it was another thing he was gonna have to worry about.
Finally, his ass. It was, well, a fair bit bigger. Fuck it, he wasn't going to lie, Steve kept on grabbing his ass every time he saw the damn thing — not only was it fat and incredibly thick, it was a pervert husband magnet! His body was now Steve's greatest fantasy, and Tony did not know how to feel about it!
“Tony?” Steve called, snapping Tony out of his thoughts. “You need a little help there?” he asked.
“No..” Tony says, struggling to get his shirt on again, grumbling, watching as it receded back towards under his fat tits. Then Steve suddenly put his hands around Tony's waist, grabbing his folds between his fingers.
Tony stuttered, embarrassed. “St–eve! Staph!” Steve started to rub his belly, massaging the flesh, taking notice of how round Tony was. “Pretty,”
Tony grunted, annoyed again, “Why do you keep doing that?” Steve furrowed an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, I can't love my husband now?” he smirked, speaking in that annoying tone.
Tony grumbled, rolling his eyes and pouting. “You know what I meant,” Steve knew exactly what Tony meant, the fact that he was acting coy meant that he thought he was gonna get away with it.
Steve just sighed, making Tony gasp as he began to nibble on his ear. “You look beautiful like this. Can't I enjoy it for a little while?” Steve whined, giant azure blue puppy eyes making him weak to any refute.
“Fine.” Tony decided. “But I'm losing some of this weight in my tummy, okay?”
Steve took a handful of Tony's ass, earning a moan as he licked his lips. “Yeah. I'm okay with that.”
