This was a small drabble for Envy over on FurAffinity (whose page and picture used for the drabble can be found here: www.furaffinity.net/view/48128…) who wanted a gourmand of a Renamon to have some fun with her lover/cushion Veemon.

I hope you all enjoy this short drabble. I got a big thing I'm working on to publish before the month is over so finger's crossed. If you'd like to support my page, consider throwing me a kofi ko-fi.com/sirwales

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Red and black plates were stacked neatly atop one another, obscuring the table space before Renamon even though her frontside belly-bust combo competed for space as well, squished in place by the plastic counter. She was grateful that the restaurant’s bar area sprawled along the conveyor belt, giving her plenty of space for overflow of discarded plates which matched her wide girth that oozed across the vinyl seat. To the outside observer, they’d call her appetite overkill.

Renamon would tell them to calm down with the hyperbole. This was why she loved this place more than any other eatery in the area. Servers only came by if you called for them, tending to their own private duties. If she wanted something from the back kitchen custom ordered, or from the hot menu, the glowing digital tablet let her order without uttering a word. There was always a small marvel at the robotic cart that delivered her Takoyaki or tempura with a little jingle while avoiding the hassle of interacting with nosey people chiming in their two cents.

That didn’t stop those who walked by from stealing a fleeting glance to the fatty gourmand of a fox, but they were so few and far between that Renamon didn’t mind. There’s no time to gawk at a customer when one was on the clock. Besides, she had her two favorite things to keep her company: her cushion and various sushi plates that scooted along the belt, waiting to be taken.

As she savored the taste of fried tofu plucked off the sushi belt, she dwelled on an all-too-familiar thought. Do they think I don’t realize how big I am? The way others approached her on the topic made it seem as if everyone else aside from Renamon knew she was almost as wide as she was tall. Or that her hips resembled two buttery wrecking balls that her beefy tailed swayed over.

She shrugged it off. “I suppose they mean well enough.” Renamon spoke to seemingly no one as she scooped up the second tofu chunk with her chopsticks. Her tongue rolled over the scrumptiousness of this morsel, just as delectable as the previous ones that had crept by on the conveyor belt. “It’s not as though most approach me with ill-intentions.”

“Maybe you should wear a shirt that tells people ‘I know I’m big, thanks for noticing’. It’d save a lot of awkward conversations.” The muffled voice from beneath Renamon spoke up just enough that she could giggle with a hefty guffaw.

“While you’re not wrong, darling, I loathe the conversation to begin with.” Renamon finished the fried tofu as she sipped her water. Plates danced by all begging to be eaten by a hungry soul. She had the capacity to do so, but there was never a need to go full glutton mode like Guilmon would if he were there. Instead, she let the previous dish settle in her dangling soft apron belly before a dragon roll turned the bend. “Aha. Come to me, my darling.”

“Are you talking to me or the fish?” Veemon wiggled his head out from the fluffy backside of Renamon, head barely afloat between the booth’s back cushion and Renamon’s cushioned back.

Another fluffy chuckle escaped Renamon before she lay her weight into Veemon, smooshing him back into position. His blue head vanished beneath a layer of plysh yellow flab. Satisfied, Renamon returned to indulging once again. “For now, the fish. Try not to move too much. You don’t want me to stop now, do you?” That was enough to get Veemon to burrow back beneath his vast goddess. There was already a sizeable difference in height between them as Renamon towered over the blue and white Digimon. With how much weight she carried proudly on her frame, Veemon would often vanish, obscured, and squished as if she were a house coming to crush him. Yet, he never minded, happy to provide her a sense of comfort while indulging in her favorite desire. Although it did make dinner conversation quite the hassle. Thankfully Renamon was a fox of few words when food was involved.

This was by far one of her favorite rolls. The crunchy tempura brought a smile to her jowls, the heavy cheeks chewing while the teriyaki-soaked eel helped to enhance the flavor. She never understood those who would wolf down hand-crafted assortments like this. They missed out on so much umami that Renamon appreciated. There was very little in this world that could ruin such an illustrious high.

“Ahem…excuse me, ma’am?” Renamon’s blue eyes shot open. She hadn’t called for a refill and having someone interrupt her savory experience dampened her mood. “Sorry to bother you, but…”

Renamon cocked an eyebrow. “Have I overstayed my welcome?” She was used to this at other places but never here, a first for her. The server was quick to shake her head while trying to explain.

“Well…yes and no. We’re always happy to have you here. However, we’re getting ready to close the kitchen.” Renamon confusion was apparent on her plump face. “We close a half-hour on weekdays.”

Now it all made sense. “I suppose we’ve been here far longer than anticipated. It’s hard to keep track of time when there’s so much to indulge.” Her server sheepishly nodded as Renamon finished the rest of her dragon roll. “Though that doesn’t mean I’m satisfied in the slightest. Veemon, let’s go. I’m in the mood for something sweet…apart from you.”

The server was slightly perplexed, gasping when Renamon got up, revealing the half-crushed Veemon practically glued to the upholstery. “Eep. Sorry, I forgot you were there.” Renamon waddled on, her hips shaking back and forth, butt cheeks knocking into each other like a makeshift Newton’s cradle. How she could move with such grace in spite of two barrels of adipose one would call thighs scraping into each other was a mystery science had yet to unravel.

“Isn’t she something?” Veemon asked the server, lovestruck over the portly fox. Up and about, it was easier to ogle all the supple curves of Renamon. Although he couldn't denyb they were accentuated when she crammed that belly into a booth. “I could stare at her all day.”

“T-That’s nice, sir.” The server awkwardly handed Veemon the black booklet with their check. “If you could handle this, please.”

“A small price to pay.” He commented despite the value of Renamon’s three-hour meal clocking in well past three digits. “I wonder if she wants to go to the bakery or the ice cream store. Maybe both.”

Renamon called over her shoulder to Veemon. “Hurry along. I can’t drive without you under me.” Her tone had a bark to it, but he knew full well that’s how she normally spoke when her appetite wanted satiating; something he never grew tired of pampering.