(FAT, SLOB) DRABBLE - Hoshimi Miyabi

A hefty and slobby Miyabi spends her day hanging out with Soukaku and a plump Yanagi.

Series: Zenless Zone Zero
Characters: Hoshimi Miyabi, Soukaku, Yanagi
CW: SSBBW, Light Slob, Belching, Farting
All SUBJECT characters depicted are 18+.



The atmosphere inside Section 6’s recreation room was heavy and warm, like a thick blanket just shy of stifling. The wide windows had been cracked open in vain, allowing lazy beams of sunlight to spill across the polished floor and glint against the scattered training equipment.

In the center of it all sat Hoshimi Miyabi, the youngest Void Hunter, the "Swordmaster of New Eridu"...

—And perhaps the largest woman to have ever been in an elite anti-Hollow division.

She occupied an entire oversized couch, her sprawling figure engulfing most of the cushions with ease. Her body was a grand, pillowy mass of heavy curves, every inch of her betraying a life quietly surrendered to indulgence alongside relentless "training."

Miyabi's face was a soft emblem of noble lineage. Her cheeks were round, flushed from the exertion of the earlier feast, and framed by delicate strands of black hair that clung to her damp forehead. A shy double chin pressed gently against her collar, especially when she lowered her head to sip at the fruity bubble tea balanced precariously atop her stuffed, heaving midriff.

She had taken off her green jacket, revealing a strained undershirt that barely managed to cling to her impressive figure. Her arm bore a heavy softness, with her biceps bulged with a doughy mass that jiggled whenever she lifted her cup or lazily gestured while speaking.

"Another rice ball, Chief?" asked Soukaku, her lithe frame bouncing lightly as she crossed the room with a plate.

Miyabi hesitated, her red eyes sparkling with temptation. Her lips, full and moist, pursed thoughtfully. "Mmm… I suppose so… Thank you," she declared, dainty taking the rice ball with her chubby fingers.

Miyabi’s vast belly, thick and prominent beneath the strained fabric, surged forward as she leaned to accept another rice ball. The movement sent tremors through her frame.

Her breasts, full and resting high atop her stomach, shifted and settled like heavy cushions. A slight rippling traveled downward, past the slope of her massively widened hips, along the thick trunks of her thighs, and ending in her generously padded calves.

The couch creaked a warning. Miyabi ignored it, instead focusing on savoring her treat with slow, indulgent bites.

The rice ball was still warm, its soft, lightly salted grains giving way to the rich savoriness of the filling—tender flakes of seasoned salmon nestled within. Each bite released a comforting, homey taste that melted into her tongue.

Her hips were blossoming grand hills of flesh, wide enough that they spilled over the couch’s edges like soft, yielding waves. Her legs were pressed together by necessity, thick thighs rolling against each other with every subtle motion. Even her ankles had grown plush, sinking into the comfortable shoes she'd donned.

The couch let out another soft groan beneath her shifting weight, but she paid it no mind, her full cheeks moving in slow rhythm as she let herself enjoy the simple, wholesome satisfaction of a good meal.

At times, her red eyes seemed to gloss slightly, her movements becoming detached and almost automatic, with light lines of drool touching the corner of her mouth—signs of one of her many drifting "training trances".

Her unconscious usage of diverting her brainpower to mental image training always tended to put her into a semi-aware fugue state, where things like overeating, napping, and relieving herself of gas seemed a lot more feasible.

—All of which was mentioned putting her on autopilot, the fat fox Thiren indulging in her body’s whims without care for what others around her OR even her conscious self thinks—her body perfectly content to follow along with whatever pleasant indulgence was offered to her next.

Soukaku plopped onto a beanbag nearby, tossing a controller onto her lap. "Hey, Chief, you said today’s supposed to be a full ‘mental training day’, right?"

Miyabi, cheeks stuffed and glowing, managed a nod. A faint rumble underneath the fox-eared woman went barely unheard, muffled by the soft couch that held her oversized buttocks; Soukaku didn’t so much as blink at this. She was long used to the subtle betrayals of Miyabi’s overindulgence.

"Hfff… Indeed… Mental training through… Games and relaxation," Miyabi huffed out once she swallowed.

Her smooth stretch of soft belly had long poked out between her shirt and corset, marked by faint lines from where her clothing had pressed too tightly earlier.

“Shame Harumasa’s not here to join us!” Soukaku mused loudly, “Of all the days to take leave…”

“Hmmnh…” Miyabi swallowed the rest of her rice ball, “Harumasa... is undoubtedly engaging in his own brand of relaxation…”

She pressed a delicate hand against her gut, taut and sloshing with the weight of her snacking.

—Before an airy belch suddenly escaped from her mouth.

“Mnnhh… Please excuse me…” Miyabi blushed lightly. Her bloated belly gurgled both hunger and satisfaction, working overtime to deal with the amount of food and gas she stuffed herself with.

Just another thing she could never get fully under control. Even with her great willpower to keep her manners and body habits in check, they only seem to get worse again as Miyabi gets bigger.

Yanagi wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead with the sleeve of her own loose tunic. Her own figure had blossomed subtly. Not as extreme as Miyabi's grand pear shape, but notable enough to require a careful adjustment to her uniform.

At the sound of Miyabi’s eructation, the deputy chief set down a fresh pitcher of iced tea on the nearby table next to Miyabi. "Already prepared the herbal blends for your stomach issues."

"Thank you," Miyabi smiled, her cute soft cheeks lightly dimpling. She accepted a tall glass, sipping with the poise of a noblewoman at a tea ceremony—if not for the telltale slosh of her overstuffed belly shifting and squelching against her lap, the scene might have appeared perfectly refined.

"Alright, alright," Soukaku chimed in, flicking on the massive TV mounted against the wall. "Let’s get right into it then! Training objective number one: fun and games!"

Miyabi’s ears twitched in amusement, giving a small smirk of challenge. “Accepted.”

As the game loaded, Miyabi shifted, eliciting another ominous creak from the couch. Her rear, gloriously expansive and squishy, adjusted to better accommodate the shift. The fabric of her leggings strained visibly around her plush thighs and hips, thread marks crisscrossing like desperate little scars across the taut material.

Soukaku tossed her a controller. Miyabi caught it with surprisingly nimble fingers despite the thick softness coating them, and they settled into a lazy gaming session.

Minutes drifted in a haze of idle gaming and banter, punctuated by a myriad of soft, bodily sounds made by Miyabi. Her stomach wouldn’t quiet itself, made even more vocal with the herbal tea Miyabi would sip down.

An unintentional belch or two would drift from Miyabi’s mouth, with even rarer noises of varying volumes escaping from underneath Miyabi’s massive backside.

Miyabi, despite her obstructive heft, played with uncanny precision. Her plump fingers danced over the buttons, her foxfire-quick reflexes honed by the years of practice and fighting within Hollows—adding on that as a gamer herself, this was all child’s play for her.

Midway through another round, Miyabi’s gaze started to unfocus. Her breathing slowed to a near meditative rhythm, mouth faintly parted.

Yanagi, seated nearby, recognized the signs. Another trance. A familiar zone she drifted into whenever focus overtook her better judgment.

prrRRRBBT!

Soukaku blinked, side-eyeing Miyabi as her gassy ruptures suddenly seemed to get louder, rippling from beneath the mass of Miyabi’s butt—the kind of bassy reverberation only possible from someone so supremely cushioned.

“Uhh…” Soukaku began, but was interrupted by another groaning sputter of flatulence from Miyabi. Soukaku shifted uncomfortably, coughing a bit and fanning the air a bit, before steeling herself to refocus on the fast-moving game.

With Miyabi’s mind free, more waves came, longer and louder—like her body was reacting to the game as much as her mind was. Belches forced themselves in, joining in the noisy cacophony. Her belly gurgled like a brewing pot, and still she didn't flinch, didn't blink.

The screen flashed again—Victory.

“Again?” Soukaku pouted, tossing her controller on the table. “I can never beat you at this one…”

But Miyabi didn’t answer. She was still clutching the controller, glazed eyes on the screen, body rumbling softly beneath her. Whistling notes whispered out between clenches, each one tighter, higher-pitched. Then, a return to a low, steady hum of background gas as her trance lingered, uninterrupted.

Yanagi walked to Miyabi, her plump body swaying, before snapping her fingers in front of Miyabi’s lightly drooling face. “Chief.”

The snap cut clean through the haze. Miyabi blinked once. Twice. Her fingers slackened, letting the controller slide down her belly like a stone down a slope, her arms drooping at her sides.

“W-What…” she began softly, her tone hazy. Then she froze, a faint blush creeping into her cheeks as the unmistakable odor of her indulgent trance finally reached her own senses.

“…Ah. Pardon me,” she said, bowing her head with practiced grace, though her voice carried the light tinge of mortified restraint.

Soukaku, despite being literally next to the impact zone, didn’t seem upset.
“No worries! Nothing to feel sorry for! Whether or not you’re spacing off, it’s not like you can control when you gotta toot!”

“Now now, Soukaku,” Yanagi chided, “Let’s not bring up the Chief’s digestive problems when we both know she’d rather not talk about it. We don't want to reverse her progress in restraining her... "outbursts".”

“But Nagi~!” Soukaku whined, looking up at the fat, pink-haired woman, “It’s not like we mind it at all! Boss has always had some slips here and there! But that’s always been around us! She has nothing to fear!”

Miyabi’s blush deepened at Soukaku’s earnest words, the heat creeping all the way to the tips of her fox-like ears. She fidgeted slightly where she sat, the immense girth of her hips and rear shifting the couch with an audible creak.

Years of rigorous manners and poise, ingrained in her since childhood, tugged at her instincts to maintain an unflappable, pristine image. Yet the steady, inevitable growth of her body—along with the peculiar mental trances she so often slipped into lately—had slowly worn down those old boundaries, leaving her more vulnerable, more at ease.

Hghgrllghglgllgle…!

Any conversation between Yanagi and Soukaku stopped when they heard the loud gurgling from Miyabi’s soft stomach.

Suddenly, Miyabi felt quite hungry, each round before chipping away at her energy reserves like a chisel to soft clay.

Her cheeks puffed slightly with each breath, and her eyelids drooped, not from sleep but from the unmistakable pang of deep, gnawing hunger settling in behind her fatigue. Her stomach gave a soft, eager grumble beneath her layered weight, muffled but insistent.

"I think..." Miyabi murmured, her voice slow and syrupy, "that a proper break demands… proper nourishment."

Soukaku only laughed at this. "You mean food, like usual? Right on time, I feel quite hungry too!"

Miyabi nodded, her heavy double chin squishing slightly as she did. “A little reward… for our dutiful dedication.”

Yanagi only sighed, slightly smirking a bit. “I would agree with that.”

The deputy chief left Miyabi and Soukaku for a moment, returning only a second later with a large tray from the mini-fridge tucked away in the room—stacks of melon-flavored buns, red bean buns, glistening sweet dumplings, and cold jelly cups that jiggled like Miyabi’s own rear whenever she shifted.

"I figured all of you'd want a little variety this time," Yanagi noted, carefully setting the tray within reach.

Miyabi let out a pleased hum, eyes scanning the selection before plucking a bun from the top with delicate fingers.

“You know me too well,” she murmured, and took a slow, appreciative bite.

The first bite nearly made Miyabi glow in delight. The melon-flavored bun was warm and tender, the dough melting against her tongue with just the faintest chew.

She didn’t stop after the bun. Miyabi reached forward again with one hand while the other rested limply across her rising middle, grabbing a sweet dumpling this time, glossy with syrup. The sticky glaze clung to her fingertips as she brought it to her lips, teeth sinking through the dense mochi shell to reach the dark red bean filling inside. A quiet sigh escaped her as she chewed.

—Then came another bun.

—Then a second jelly cup, followed by two more dumplings stacked precariously in her palm.

Her motions were unhurried but constant, her stomach expanding outward like dough rising beneath the gentle heat of indulgence.

A faint bwoorph! slipped from her lips as she swallowed a particularly dense dumpling. Miyabi had too late raised a hand to cover her mouth with prim propriety, only grunting in resignation as she shoved another bun into her maw.

Yanagi helped herself to some red bean buns, a few crumbs getting onto her pudgy cheeks. "Careful, Chief. At the rate you're eating, you're going to break that couch."

“Or worse! You’ll outeat the effects of the tea again! And then you’ll start blasting a lot more from both ends like last time!” Soukaku chuckled with a grin like a gremlin, having already eaten a portion of the tray for herself.

"Soukaku, it’s one thing to accept the Chief's... natural incidents among friends," Yanagi said, delicately dabbing her mouth with a napkin before casting a brief glance toward Miyabi's wobbling form, "but it's another to blurt it out like you're announcing the lunch menu. Some things are best left unspoken unless you want to actually embarrass someone."

Soukaku puffed her cheeks out in exaggerated protest, crossing her arms like a sassy child. "But Chief DOESN’T look embarrassed though! I mean, if you take a closer look at her face…! Every time she lets one out, it's like... her shoulders get all loose, and her face gets real soft. It's like she's—”

Shrrirp!

The sharp tear sliced through the room like a needle through silk. All conversation halted as both Yanagi and Soukaku whipped their heads toward Miyabi, who had paused mid-chew.

Shrrrip-pap!

It came again. Then once more, softer, slower. Her leggings, already clinging for dear life across her thickening thighs, finally surrendered. Thin seams along the outer edges gave way first, bursting open to reveal pale, plush skin pressing outward in slow-motion bloom.

Threads snapped in a cascade as the fabric gave way inch by inch, exposing more of her pillowy legs with each subtle shift in her weight. One lazy roll of her thigh to reposition, and another tear ran up toward her hip. The elastic waistband strained but held, though the surrounding material sagged like peeled fruit skin.

Miyabi swallowed her mouthful with a soft, audible gulp. A faint draft kissed along her newly exposed skin, with cool air tracing the surface of her now-bared thigh, making her flinch with the lightest of shivers.

She slowly pulled her hand back from the tray, cheeks tinged with a flush as her eyes darted downward. There was no ignoring it: her leggings were in tatters, and the thick curve of her thighs was on full display.

Soukaku had the decency not to laugh, but she did give a little reassuring grin. “Well, this wouldn’t be the first time this happens either!”

Yanagi sighed in light exasperation, her belly jiggling with her exhale. “It was only a matter of time for a new outfit size for her.”

Miyabi only blushed at this, but she hardly felt that embarrassed from this. Soukaku was right in a way. Her more shameless accidents felt much more bearable around these two.

"I suppose with adaptability… comes strength,” she intoned tiredly. “But…”

Miyabi then yawned loudly, her binge and freeing of her massive thighs seemingly encouraging her sudden need to sleep. It seemed that the late afternoon sun with its golden and amber rays set the stage for a nice daytime nap.

“Yanagi… after my nap… I’ll go with you… for a new… uniform…”

Right there, Miyabi’s head softly lolled back as she drifted into a blissful, heavy stupor. She unconsciously stretched her legs out in front of her, causing her skirt to ride up even further, baring more of her thick, doughy thighs and softly dimpled knees. Her soft, bloated gut whined out—toiling and bubbling as it continued to digest and produce.

“Guess she fell asleep here again,” Soukaku said with no surprise, putting her hands behind her head. “We really need to replace that couch with one that can turn into a bed.”

“...Yes, you would be right,” Yanagi replied to the short oni. “This couch may be at its last limits anyways.”

“Whelp! Guess we should leave her here like usual, right?” Soukaku asked. She couldn’t help but watch and listen as the snoozing Miyabi started to let out some breathy burps in her sleep, a sign of the Void Hunter’s many failed attempts to get her body’s habits under control while asleep.

Yanagi allowed herself to smirk a bit, something that made the fat on her face shift into dimples. “Indeed, let her rest after this productive day. I’ll probably help her with clothes when she’s woken up.”

With that, the two members of Section 6 quietly as possible left their corpulent chief to digest and doze in the tussled recreation room. Soukaku went first in leaving the room, with Yanagi right behind her.

Yanagi couldn’t help but look back at the fox Thiren, who continued to sleep without a care.

—And without that care which left her in a more lazy and less controlled state, Miyabi’s body couldn’t help but let out more freer, pleased toots from underneath her, vibrating deeply against the couch with different lengths and basses.

Even in her sleep, the fox-eared woman had a blush on her chubby face—whether it be from embarrassment, relief, pleasure, or a mix from the noises that came out her mouth and butt—Yanagi didn’t know.

Another thing Yanagi had told Miyabi about, something the latter had tried to figure out, hence the reason for all those digestive herbs and antacids and “training”. Sometimes the plump deputy chief didn’t know if Miyabi was actually feeling emotions towards how breezy she was during sleep.

Yanagi exhaled softly at this, adjusting her glasses. She supposed for now she could only see what else the future would hold, whether Miyabi’s habits would get better or worse.

“I wish you sweet dreams, Chief,” Yanagi said softly to Miyabi, turning her plump body around as it jiggled a bit from the force.

Prrff…

That stopped Yanagi dead in her tracks. That short, but audible noise didn’t come from Miyabi.

Yanagi stood at the doorway for a second, readjusting her glasses again as a habit, a blank look on her face.

“I… really hope your bad habits haven’t rubbed off of me, Chief…” she mused to herself, glad nobody conscious was here.

As if answering Yanagi, Miyabi’s response was only a loud, flippant belch.

Yanagi ignored this, right before gently closing the door behind her.

For a time, the only sounds were the whir of the A/C, the quiet rustle of Miyabi's slow breathing, the release of bodily gasses, and the gentle, near-silent protest of furniture enduring a queenly burden.

And Miyabi, grand and glorious and wonderfully full, drifted off into a heavy, happy nap, her immense form barely shifting as her dreams carried her away to fields of endless feasts and victory…