Honeymoon
"My god, you've gotta try this, Lo," Tom enthused, holding a heaping spoonful of rich, sweet bread pudding to the god's lips.
Loki moaned obscenely, enjoying the sticky sweetness despite being painfully stuffed. They'd toured the French Quarter their first day but Loki, at eight months pregnant and very heavy, had tired quickly. They spent the next six days holed up in their romantic boutique hotel, Tom only leaving to get takeout. Loki loved being doted on, having nothing to do but get fed, have his belly rubbed, get fucked, and sleep; as a result, he got even heavier.
"Mmmm, that's so *hic* good," he murmured, burping. "Feed me more, Thomas,"
"Are you sure?" the mortal asked, worried.
Loki squealed and opened his mouth. "More," he demanded, rubbing his turgid belly.
With a heavy sigh, Tom obliged until Loki literally passed out. He spooned his husband and began massaging his hot, swollen gut.
***
"Can I ask you something, Lo?" Tom asked the next morning.
"Sure," he replied, yawning sleepily.
"Why...I mean...are you happy? With...this?"
"You're asking me why I eat until I pass out, aren't you?"
Tom shrugged. "Well, yea, I guess,"
"I just like it. Feeling so full and fat and heavy. I think humans call it a fat fetish,"
Tom continued to stare blankly.
"I didn't realized I had this kink until I started eating after I escaped Asgard. But when I ate and my belly got full, I just felt...warm. I know it's weird," he said, suddenly shy.
"Not at all. I just didn't want you feeling like you had to stuff yourself at every meal because of my kink,"
Loki laughed. "I'm glad you finally admitted it,"
"Admitted what?" Tom asked sheepishly.
"You're a feeder, Thomas William Hiddleston,"
"And you're my obedient feedee, you hefty little boy," he said lovingly, poking Loki in the belly.
"Yup," Loki said, gleefully jiggling his fat tummy.
"We've definitely got to come back here once the baby's born,"
"Just think how fat I'll be by then!"