The apartment was quieter than it had been in days. Sunlight slanted through the windows, catching the stray glimmer of a leftover New Year’s streamer and lighting up the tidy calm of the living room. Ariel sat back in her new gaming chair, feet tucked up, a mug of chai warming her hands. Holly, sprawled out on the rug in her favorite hoodie and leggings, guided her cozy digital capybara through a pixelated meadow.

  Ariel watched the game for a minute, her heart soft with contentment. She took a sip, and then, almost out of nowhere, spoke up. “You know, Hol… I have a really good feeling about this year. And it’s not just the wedding. It’s just… I woke up on New Year’s Day actually happy. Like, really happy. I can’t remember the last time that happened.”

  Holly paused her game and rolled over, climbing to her knees in front of Ariel. She gently took Ariel’s free hand, eyes shining. “Well, get used to it, Red. I’m officially making it my life’s mission to make sure you never wake up unhappy on New Year’s Day again.” She squeezed Ariel’s hand and leaned in for a soft kiss.

  Ariel smiled, her cheeks glowing. “Deal. I guess that means you’re stuck with me for every New Year forever.”

  Holly bumped her forehead against Ariel’s. “I can live with that.”

  The moment lingered in its warmth, but soon Ariel’s imagination was running again. She settled back in her chair and said, “So, I’ve been thinking about the wedding. I keep seeing it all in my head—the park, the light at sunset, all our friends around. I keep imagining walking down the aisle and seeing you at the end of it, looking at me like I’m the only person in the world.”

  Holly grinned, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Wait, wait, why do you get to walk down the aisle? Maybe I want to make an entrance for once!”

  Ariel laughed, tilting her head playfully. “Because, obviously, you’re the only one I know who could pull off a killer pant suit. You’d just upstage me if you got to walk first.”

  Holly gasped dramatically, throwing a hand to her chest. “Are you saying I should show up in, like… a neon pink velvet pant suit with rhinestone lapels and glittery boots? Maybe a top hat with a disco ball on top, just to make sure all eyes are on me?”

  Ariel dissolved into giggles. “You’d do it, too! You’d have a matching cane and everything, and no one would even notice me.”

  Holly grinned wickedly. “And maybe I’d have tearaway pants so I could reveal a second, even more fabulous pair of pants underneath. Surprise! Wedding quick-change.”

  Ariel covered her mouth, laughing so hard her tea almost spilled. “I’d be halfway down the aisle and suddenly everyone would be clapping for the world’s fastest costume change.”

  Holly did a little twirl on her knees, still holding Ariel’s hand. “Or maybe I’ll just show up in a plain black suit, all classic and boring, and then halfway through the ceremony, I’ll pull out a glitter cannon.”

  Ariel wiped a tear from her eye, breathless. “If you glitter bomb the wedding, I’m making you vacuum up every last speck before we leave for the honeymoon.”

  Holly waggled her eyebrows. “I think it’d be worth it to see your face.”

  They dissolved into another fit of laughter, the whole apartment filled with their voices. Eventually, Holly leaned back against Ariel’s knees, her eyes soft again. “Honestly, Red, I’d wear whatever you wanted. As long as I get to marry you.”

  Ariel ran her fingers through Holly’s hair, all the hope and light of a new year shining in her smile. “I think it’s going to be perfect, no matter what we wear. As long as it’s us.”

  The evening rolled in slow and cozy. The table was set with two heaping bowls of spaghetti and meatballs. Holly had gone overboard again, the pot comically large for just the two of them. Steam curled up from the sauce, filling the apartment with warmth and garlicky comfort.

  Ariel twirled her fork in her bowl, but Holly intercepted, scooping up a giant forkful and holding it up to Ariel’s lips. “Say ‘aah,’” she sang, waggling her eyebrows.

  Ariel rolled her eyes but obliged, letting Holly feed her the bite. “I’m officially spoiled,” she mumbled around a mouthful, cheeks pink.

  Holly grinned, wiping a stray bit of sauce from Ariel’s chin. “That’s the point. Plus, you’re cute when you’re all bashful and full.”

  They kept eating, passing the garlic bread back and forth, sometimes pausing so Holly could stuff another oversized forkful into Ariel’s mouth. Every time, Ariel let out a soft little hum of satisfaction, and Holly just beamed, delighted with herself.

  After a few rounds, Ariel leaned back, patting her belly. “You know, I’m really going to miss this when I go back to work tomorrow. No more personal chef hand-feeding me at every meal.”

  Holly snorted, shaking her head. “Oh, please. I could just start bringing you lunch every day. Pop into your office, feed you in front of everyone. It’ll be our new lunchtime tradition.”

  Ariel laughed, raising her eyebrows. “Yeah, great idea except my office has glass walls. You know what that’ll accomplish? Getting us both all worked up with no way to actually do anything about it. Not unless you want to give the whole studio a show.”

  Holly’s eyes went wide, lips curving into a wicked grin. “You could do with some proper motivation for getting your work done early.’”

  Ariel laughed so hard she almost choked, swatting Holly’s arm with her napkin. “You’re ridiculous. I’m just warning you, if you show up feeding me in front of everyone, I’ll never live it down.”

  Holly winked. “That’s okay. I like being the talk of the studio. We’ll become legends: ‘the director who’s so spoiled she can’t even feed herself.’”

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  Ariel, unable to stop grinning, took Holly’s hand and squeezed it. “I’ll settle for being the director who gets to eat lunch with her favorite girl every day.”

  Holly fed her another bite, leaning in for a quick, saucy kiss. “Deal. But I’m still bringing extra meatballs.”

  They fell into easy conversation, the clink of forks and the soft shuffle of feet under the table mixing with the laughter that lingered all night. The world outside faded away, and in their little kitchen, everything was just as it should be: warm, abundant, and entirely theirs.

  As the dinner wore on, Ariel caught Holly watching her with that familiar hungry look. The one that always made Ariel feel just a little bit bolder, a little bit wicked. The food was delicious, but it was Holly’s attention that made Ariel’s skin tingle.

  Ariel leaned back a bit more in her chair, her hand resting atop her belly, fingers tracing idle circles over the soft swell. When Holly scooped up another forkful and lifted it toward her lips, Ariel paused, meeting Holly’s eyes with a sly smile.

  “Careful,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing as she found the words that always got Holly hot and bothered. “If you keep feeding me like this, you’re going to have to roll me back to bed later.”

  Holly’s breath caught, a flush rising in her cheeks. She swallowed, trying to play it cool, but her hand wobbled slightly as she brought the next bite closer.

  Ariel’s fingers curled, gripping her belly with gentle emphasis. “I’m getting so much softer. I love knowing you’re the reason I’m filling out these chairs a little more every day.”

  Holly nearly dropped the fork, her voice just above a whisper. “Ariel…”

  Ariel let the bite linger between them, eyes half-lidded. “I catch you staring all the time, you know. When I walk by in my leggings… or when I sit down and my belly presses against the table like this…” She pressed her palm just under her belly, making the soft flesh rise a little more. “It gets in the way, but I love it. Makes me feel…” She grinned, leaning forward, lips brushing Holly’s ear. “…wanted.”

  Holly’s breath hitched audibly, her pupils blown wide. “You’re such a brat,” she managed, but her tone was pure adoration.

  Ariel took the bite from Holly’s fork, but she didn’t look away. She chewed slowly, deliberately, her hand never leaving her belly. “You know, sometimes I think about how much more there is of me now. How my thighs spread out in this chair, how my hips fill my jeans, how every little bit of me feels so much heavier. And I know you love every pound. Every new curve.” Her thumb slid along the lower curve of her belly, and she gave herself a little squeeze.

  Holly was transfixed, lips parted, barely breathing. “Red…”

  Ariel gave her a devilish look. “You’re the reason I’m so stuffed tonight. And tomorrow, when I’m at my desk and I feel how snug my clothes are, I’ll remember it’s all because you can’t keep your hands, or your fork, off me.”

  Holly, completely undone, finally managed to set the fork down, her own hand reaching out to rest over Ariel’s. She squeezed, gently kneading Ariel’s belly, her eyes hungry and full of love.

  “I’ll never stop wanting you,” Holly whispered. “Not when you’re like this. Especially not when you’re like this.”

  Ariel squeezed Holly’s hand, leaning in close, her voice warm and raw. “Good. Because I don’t want you to.”

  Their dinner sat forgotten for a moment as the air between them charged; full of promise, desire, and that heady joy of being wanted, exactly as they were.

  Ariel saw the way Holly’s gaze followed every move, hunger and adoration sparking behind her eyes. Emboldened, Ariel leaned back a little further, the chair creaking under her. Her hand slid to the waistband of her leggings, and with a quick, practiced motion, she eased them down just enough to let her belly spill free onto her lap.

  She grinned, jiggling the soft flesh with her palm, watching as Holly’s attention zeroed in, lips parted and breath shallow. “You know,” Ariel murmured, voice low and sultry, “the other night, when that button popped off my fat pants… God, that was so hot. The way my belly just…” she gave it a gentle bounce, the soft curve settling warmly over her thighs, “...spilled out everywhere. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. About how good it felt, and how you looked at me like you couldn’t breathe.”

  Holly’s brain seemed to short-circuit, her cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide as she stared, transfixed. Her hands fidgeted on the table, itching to touch.

  Ariel leaned forward, close enough that only Holly could hear, her breath warm against Holly’s ear. “I love being your fat girl,” she whispered, every syllable weighted with both mischief and adoration.

  That was it. Holly surged forward, her hands immediately finding Ariel’s bare belly, fingers splaying out, gripping, squeezing, worshipping the softness she adored. She kissed Ariel with desperate intensity, all restraint forgotten, her passion overwhelming and tender all at once.

  Ariel melted into it, moaning softly as Holly’s hands traced the warm lines of her body, feeling the heat build and pulse between them. The world shrank to just the two of them, the forgotten dinner, the comfort of home, the feeling of being desired so fully and openly.

  Holly broke the kiss only long enough to murmur against Ariel’s lips, voice shaking with need. “You’re just—God, you’re perfect. I don’t know how I ever got this lucky.”

  Ariel grinned, flushed and breathless, her own hands tangled in Holly’s hair. “You’re the one who makes me feel this way, Hol. No one else could.”

  They kissed again, deeper, everything forgotten but love and hunger.

  Ariel felt Holly’s hands trembling against her skin, hungry and adoring, and she let herself be swept up in the moment. She rose slowly from her chair, arms still wrapped tight around Holly. Their bodies pressed together, Ariel’s softness enveloping them both.

  She leaned in and, with a playful smirk, gently turned Holly so her back was to the chair. Holly’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across her lips as Ariel pressed close, using her own plush weight to back Holly down until she was sitting right in the chair that had become Ariel’s throne.

  Ariel straddled Holly’s lap, her full belly pressing firmly into Holly, the closeness making Holly’s breath hitch. Holly’s hands instinctively slid around Ariel’s waist, fingers digging in with reverence as Ariel leaned down, her red hair tumbling forward.

  “Comfortable?” Ariel teased, her voice thick with heat and mischief.

  Holly’s cheeks flushed, hands roaming over Ariel’s back and hips. “Best seat in the house,” she managed, grinning up at Ariel.

  Ariel rolled her hips gently, her softness pressing into Holly in waves, the chair creaking beneath them. She kissed Holly deeply, slow and possessive, her hands threading through Holly’s hair and then sliding down to squeeze Holly’s shoulders.

  Holly let out a low sound, equal parts sigh and laugh. “God, you’re going to break this thing in before I even get a chance to try it.”

  Ariel giggled against Holly’s lips, breathless and bold. “Maybe I’ll let you have a turn… if you ask nicely.”

  Holly’s hands traveled down to Ariel’s sides, gripping where Ariel was thickest, adoring every plush curve. “I’d say please, but right now I can’t remember a single word.”

  Ariel leaned in close, her belly enveloping Holly’s lap as she kissed her again, softer this time, then pulled back just enough to murmur, “Guess you’ll just have to hold on.”

  Holly nodded, utterly undone, as Ariel’s arms wrapped around her even tighter, their bodies pressed so close it felt like nothing could come between them. The rest of the world fell away—the kitchen table, the abandoned plates, the hum of the city outside—leaving only warmth and laughter and the slow, rising tide of their desire.

  They stayed like that for a while, tangled in each other and in the deep certainty that this, right here, was everything they’d ever wanted.