#bmi hero

[caffeinatedcantrips]

Some Tai sketches from earlier this year ❤️

Please do not repost

[crimsondreamprod]

Didja think I forgot about Sunday Sunday again! Nah! We're rounding out the Fatgum Team with the BMI Hero himself, Taishiro Toyomitsu , AKA Fatgum! Y'all know where to see the full spicy pics 🌶️ ( 🐦 app and 🐝 H1ve!)

[https-milo]

I didn’t see him on your list of characters guide but would you ever do Fatgum for the Instagram series? If not feel free to ignore this! I just love him a lot!

I NEED TO UPDATE MY LIST OF CHARACTERSSS I SWEAR!! THIS IS LIKE THE SECOND TIME SOMEONE'S REQUESTED SOMEONE WHO WASN'T ON THE LIST BUT I DON'T MIND DOING :,((

anyways! thanks for the request!!

DATING TAISHIRO TOYOMITSU(FAT GUM) INSTAGRAM!

details!

instagram posts w/ comments while dating Taishiro Toyomitsu(Fat Gum)!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of pinterest, reader can be however you imagine!

main m. list / instagram m. list

y/nbakes · 13w

5.1k likes Liked by bmi.fatgum, t.amajiki

y/nbakes new bite-sized pies at the bakery! come on down and let me know how they taste! :D Tagged: sugarcoatbakery

t.amajiki /bmi.fatgum you wanted a new bakery to visit, right? bmi.fatgum t.amajiki wow amajiki! this is great! if only you could speak out like this during work hours, huh? t.amajiki bmi.fatgum you're so mean. this is workplace harassment

bmi.fatgum THOSE LOOK SO GOOD! I'M RUNNING! y/nbakes bmi.fatgum UH HELLO? I'LL SEE YOU SOON THEN, MR. FAT GUM!

bmi.fatgum · 10w

21.7k likes Liked by t.amajiki, redriot, y/nbakes

bmi.fatgum I've been going to sugarcoatbakery every day for two weeks now, they never miss! The food is so good!

Tagged: y/nbakes

y/nbakes AHH OMG! HELLO?? Thank you so much, Mr. Fat gum! I'm glad you enjoy the food my staff and I make! bmi.fatgum y/nbakes ANYTIME! YOU'RE SO TALENTED! y/nbakes bmi.fatgum you're too sweet :,) <3 bmi.fatgum y/nbakes I should be saying that to you, considering you're the baker! :D y/nbakes bmi.fatgum well, you're the one that eats all my sweets! you inhale everything sweet, sooo YOU are sweet! ^-^ bmi.fatgum y/nbakes whatever you say ;)

redriot OH HEY! That's the place you took Amajiki and me to! t.amajiki redriot yeah... I showed it to him and he's obsessed with goin now. only when the owner is working though bmi.fatgum t.amajiki AHAHAH WHATEVER DO YOU MEAN, TAMAKI!? t.amajiki bmi.fatgum I feel your glare through my screen and it's scaring me. I wanna go home.

INSTAGRAM DIRECT MESSAGES!

bmi.fatgum replied to your story: we should do that again buttt without Tamaki and Kirishima!!

y/nbakes: I would love to!! that'd be so fun :D

bmi.fatgum: sooo it's a date? Read 18:26

y/nbakes: SORRY I WAS FREAKING OUT Sent 18:32

y/nbakes: UH YES PLEASE! JUST LET ME KNOW WHEN???

bmi.fatgum: of course, I'll pick you up Saturday?

y/nbakes: YESYESYESYEYSES

INSTAGRAM DIRECT MESSAGES!

bmi.fatgum replied to your story: making me look big and for what :(

y/nbakes: taiiii you realize you eat my entire inventory during your patrols right ^-^

y/nbakes: no offense, but it is also kind of a part of your quirk!!

y/nbakes: besidesss it makes you strong, right? but I think you're already strong, skinny form or hero form!!

bmi.fatgum: you think im strong?

y/nbakes: well duh! why wouldn't I?

y/nbakes: you're not #58 for no reason, y'know? bmi.fatgum reacted "❤️" to this message

bmi.fatgum: thanks y/n :)

bmi.fatgum: are you interested in going out again?

y/nbakes: 1000000000%!!

y/nbakes: tonight was so fun <3

y/nbakes: thank youuu

bmi.fatgum: anytime! :DD

bmi.fatgum: how about a restaurant this time?

y/nbakes: id love that!

bmi.fatgum: great! I'll pick you up Tuesday night? y/nbakes reacted "❤️" to this message

y/nbakes: sounds perfect :)

y/nbakes · 9w

6.3k likes Liked by bmi.fatgum, t.amajiki, redriot

y/nbakes me and the newly-appointed boyfriend had an amazing dinner <3 (the flowers smelt soooo good!!)

Tagged: bmi.fatgum

bmi.fatgum our past few dates have been so fun, I'm so glad we're together!! <33 y/nbakes bmi.fatgum me too!! I'm super glad you came into my bakery and ate all those apple pies a month ago ^^ bmi.fatgum y/nbakes I'd do it again 100 times y/nbakes bmi.fatgum for me or the pies? bmi.fatgum y/nbakes both!! 🥰🥰

redriot wow, I dont think i've seen Fat Gum with portions that small y/nbakes redriot don't let the picture fool you!! (he ordered 6 different meals and 2 whole cakes) redriot y/nbakes sounds more like it! 😭😭

© https-milo. please do not repost, steal, copy, or modify my works!

Thank you so much for reading <3

me after adding variety for the insta posts: 😁😁

how do we feel about the story posts? :P

[mhabirthdays]

Happy Birthday

Taishiro Toyomitsu (BMI Hero: Fat Gum) – August 8th

[chrysunthemum]

hey so, if you draw fatgum in his “spear”/“skinny” form, prefer fatgum in his spear form, or in any way refer to his spear form as his “true” form:

you suck to the utmost degree

there’s a special place deep within the depths of hell for you

i will sure as shit be making my way down there to wail on you my damn self

[knightfuryvawannabee]

“Hey guys?! Don’t mean to alarm you but if we don’t get backup soon we aren’t gonna hold this checkpoint! And I also need to take my long acting soon so I’d like to be alive to do that!”

- Quade. Aka “Starlight”

———————

More from that thing of “hm what if being in Starset lore world?”

[ghost-in-the-hall]

My Girl (Fatgum x Fem! Reader) SMUT

This fic was purely self indulgent because I've been going through a lot recently and Fatgum's one of my comfort characters, so, be nice, please.

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+, SMUT, AFAB reader, Fem! Reader, use of she/her pronouns, mentions of body dysmorphia and lack of self esteem, mentions of weight, p in v sex, pussy eating, Dom! Taishiro, being restrained by partner, praise kink, size kink, unprotected sex, other than that just pure fluff (lmk if I missed anything.) Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You paused the work you were doing on your laptop when your phone began buzzing on your nightstand. You looked at the caller ID curiously, it was your boss. He never called you on your day off. You answered the call in a panic, surely something had to be wrong. Fatgum was always trying to ensure you were resting properly. 'You work too hard as it is, sweets. I don't want you to worry about work at home too.' "Hey! You busy today?" Your body instantly relaxed at the sound of his usual jovial tone on the other end of the line.

"Not in the slightest." You set your laptop on your bed next to you, wanting to give him your undivided attention. "Do you need me to come in today?"

"Do you really think I'd ask you to come in on your day off?" You stifled a giggle at his mockingly offended tone. "I was going to do some shopping and stuff around the city today… I would like you to come with me if you can. Maybe I could take you out to dinner while we're out?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" You could hear his nervous stuttering on the other end of the line.

"I… Um, yeah, I guess I am." He chuckles. "Would you like to go on a date with me?" The words came out slowly, the briefest of pauses between each one as if he was carefully thinking about every syllable that left his lips

"I would love to, Tai." You couldn't keep the beaming smile off your face.

"Great!" His voice flooded with relief. "I'll pick you up in an hour." The two of you exchanged your goodbye's before you hung up to get ready. You had been working with Tai for years now, he was someone you very quickly learned to call a friend. However, throughout your years of working in such close proximity with him you had developed a little crush on the BMI hero. It was nice to see that your feelings weren't one sided, but, you would be lying if you said you weren't still a little nervous. You must have tried on everything in your wardrobe before deciding on an outfit, groaning as nothing fit you exactly how you wanted it to. You knew you shouldn't be putting so much thought into this. You had come such a long way with Taishiro's help, but as you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't help but have doubts. Part of the reason you wanted to work under Taishiro in the first place was because of what he stood for. Fatgum made being big something to be proud of. Your squishy tummy and muscular thighs were something to be celebrated, not ridiculed. You put on an outfit you felt confident in, and it helped you feel a bit better. It was funny really, whenever you started to feel negatively about how you looked you would always think back to Tai. Numerous press events, formal dinners, company trips, he was there to build you up whenever your confidence wavered. Now should be no different. Before you realized it an hour had passed, you perked up at the sound of someone gently knocking at your door. There in front of you stood Taishiro in his civilian form, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You were a bit shocked when you saw him, you were so used to Fatgum that you had forgotten what he looked like in his civilian form. Loose white Tshirt hanging off his frame, messy blond hair falling perfectly against his forehead, the only thing resembling the hero you knew so well was his unmistakable smile.

"You brought me flowers?" You were in awe that he remembered what your favorites were, something you had only told him once in passing a while ago.

"Pretty flowers for the prettiest girl I know." You inhaled their sweet aroma as you took the bouquet from him, inviting him inside while you looked for a vase to put it in. "Thank you for letting me take you on a date." You gently grabbed his arm, squeezing his bicep with a small smile.

"There isn't anyone I'd rather go on a date with." You notice him blush slightly at your compliment. "I almost didn't recognize you when I opened the door, it's been a long time since I've seen you in civilian form." He looks down at the floor, kicking his toe against the hardwood.

"I figured you'd rather go on a date with Taishiro… not Fatgum." You couldn't help but notice his dejected tone. You take a step closer to him, reaching out and taking his hand in yours.

"Tai, I like you for you, not how fat of skinny you are." Golden eyes finally find yours, smile already returning to his lips. "You make me laugh, you and I could talk about anything for hours and I would never get bored, you give amazing hugs." You giggle and he laughs, thumb languidly running over your knuckles. "Those are the things that made me fall for you, not some silly number. Besides, fat form or not, I think you're incredibly handsome." You let out a flustered giggle at such a direct complement. He pulled you to him, arms wrapping tightly around you as his chin rested in the top of your head.

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are." He squeezes you, earning yet another laugh from your much smaller form. "Let's go have some fun, yeah?" You nod, fingers lacing with his as you leave your apartment building. The two of you made your way to what many considered the shopping district of the city, your eyes wide as you peruzed the window displays of each store. You paused in front of one shop in particular, a sexy little cocktail dress catching your attention. "You'd look great in that darlin'." You jumped slightly at Taishiro's voice right next to your ear. He saw the hesitance in your expression, knowing exactly the thought process you were going through. His hands fell on your waist, a blush immediately erupting on your cheeks. You could feel the heat radiating from his body as he remained just far enough away so as to not have his whole torso pressed against your back. "Why don't you go try it on? I'd like to see it on you." You swallowed thickly, nodding and placing your hands on top of his. He kept an arm securely around you as you headed into the store, Taishiro doing all of the talking so you wouldn't feel pressured. The sales associate inside was more than happy to help. She walked with you to the dressing rooms in the back, Taishiro making himself comfortable on one of the chairs just outside with an excited smile on his face.

"You and your boyfriend are absolutely adorable." She squeals quietly. You thanked her, the self doubt that was still flooding your mind making it hard to focus. She brought you the dress you had your eye on, helping you get zipped up before you returned to the main floor. At the first sight of you Taishiro's jaw dropped. He fumbled with his wallet, pulling out his credit card and passing it off to the sales associate.

"Tai, you really don't have to do that," you hurried over to him. "I'm not even sure if I like it." He stood, taking your hand and bringing you over to the full length mirror by the dressing rooms. He turned you so you could look at yourself, your arms immediately coming up to cross over your torso. You felt so exposed. He ran his hands up and down your sides, over every curve you felt insecure about.

"You look beautiful, sweets." He stooped down to rest his chin on your shoulder. "Is there anything I can do? I want my girl to feel as pretty as I think she looks."

"Your girl, huh?" You saw Taishiro's face flush in the reflection. You looked at yourself in the mirror again, letting your arms fall to the side. Tai's compliment didn't take away your insecurity but it definitely helped dull the sting it left in your chest. "You promise I look okay?"

"You look more than okay darlin'." He hugs you from behind. "You look perfect." The sales associate returns with a bag for your clothes that still remained in the dressing room, Taishiro convincing you to wear the dress out of the store. You tried to argue that it wouldn't go with your sneakers, but he couldn't be swayed. As you walked you reached out for his hand once more, he laced his fingers with yours eagerly. You couldn't remember the last time you had this much fun. The two of you made your way from shop to shop, giddy and laughing the entire way. Taishiro never left your side; whether the two of you were holding hands, he had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, or he was pulling you into a hug, your thoughts didn't have a chance to deviate away from the butterflies he gave you. You sat across from him at a small table in an outdoor noodle shop you had stumbled across as your day wound down. Chin resting in your hands as you watched him carry on a jovial conversation with the shop owner. You had already known, but today really cemented things for you. You were in love with him. "And she'll have the same." He turns to look at you once more with that breathtaking smile. "I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you."

"I trust your judgment on the food here." You giggle. He reaches across the table and takes your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I really wish today didn't have to end, I've had a really good time with you." His gaze lingered on your lips for just a moment, but it was enough to get you flustered. You thought about kissing this man more often than you would like to admit. Now, with him sitting here in the soft orange lantern light, the warmth of his hand mingling with your own, the thought was beginning to creep its way to the front of your mind yet again. The two of you gradually began to lean closer to each other over the table as you quietly conversed, the background buzz of the other patrons lost to you. You were startled apart by your food arriving at the table. After a delicious meal and fantastic company Taishiro walked you home, cutting through the park to spend just a little more time with him. Your intertwined hands swung between you as your conversation carried on. You both fell silent as you came across a street performer who was playing a soft melody on his guitar. Taishiro paused and looked down at you. "Would you like to dance, darlin'?"

"I would love to." You say quietly. Taishiro wraps an arm around your waist, gazing longingly into your eyes as you swayed with him in the warm night air. Crickets and frogs accompanying the instrumentals as your heart pounded in your chest. "I… really like you Tai." He smiles softly down at you, the hand on your waist giving you a gentle squeeze.

"I really like you too." His voice barely above a whisper as golden eyes remained locked with yours. You noticed him swallow thickly, tongue peeking out to wet his lips before he slowly began to inch his face closer to yours. Your eyes slid shut as his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him. It was perfect, he was perfect, his lips were hovering over yours when suddenly you were interrupted.

"Hey is that Fatgum?" You both sighed, opening your eyes you were met with the sight of an apologetic smile on his lips as his fans rushed over to him. Being a well known hero like him had its drawbacks sometimes, you had been working with him long enough that privacy could be a luxury. After some casual conversation and photos were taken the two of you continued on your way, eventually arriving at your apartment.

"Sorry bout that." He chuckles bashfully.

"It's really okay, I wouldn't want you to sacrifice your reputation with your fans just for me." You step closer to him, resting your hands on his chest. "Besides… I'm really hoping this isn't the only date we get to go on."

"Oh, don't you worry, sweets, I plan on spoiling my girl every chance I get." Your heart fluttered at him calling you his girl. He pulls you into a tight hug, neither one of you wanting to let go. As you pulled back you placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Goodnight." He stood in front of you with a bashful expression, rocking slightly on his heels.

"Goodnight, I'll see you tomorrow." You both wave as you close your door. You let out a sigh as you kicked off your shoes, about to head out of your entry way when there was a knock at your door. You opened it to see Taishiro still standing there.

"I'm sorry… I just-" He lets out a frustrated groan as he stutters before pulling you to him. His lips crashed against yours with such passionate ferocity or caused you to stumble back, one of his arms circling around your waist, the other gripping firmly onto the doorframe to keep you both upright. Kissing Taishiro made you feel like you were floating. His lips soft and warm against yours as the entirety of him flooded your senses. The sweet, musky scent of his cologne. His hand gripping your waist as he held you as close to him as he could. His hair soft against your fingers as they tangled into it. It was probably the best kiss you had ever experienced. Your lips trailed after his as he reluctantly pulled back. A warm hand found its way to your face from the doorframe, your head still spinning from the kiss.

You stood there, wide eyed and breathless as you gazed up at him, your body hot with want. "Tai, would you like to come inside?" He responded simply by scooping you up in strong arms, pushing through the half open door and ducking his head under the doorframe as he entered your apartment. The door was closed and your back was pressed against it, Taishiro's size and strength allowing him to move your body around with ease. Your legs wrapped around his torso as he settled himself between your thighs, lips finding yours again with ease as he hungrily captured your lips with his own. A massive hand cups your jaw with an almost shocking delicacy, Taishiro's presence already beginning to overwhelm you in such a short amount of time. His thumb swipes over your cheek as he gazes down at you, his expression a mixture of lust and nerves.

"Are you sure this is okay, sweetheart?" You felt your chest swell at the care he was putting into making sure you were comfortable. You pushed your fingers through his messy blond hair.

"I'm sure." Your voice soft and small as it left you. Despite the fact that Taishiro wanted you more than anything else in the world at the moment, yet still held you so delicately, allowed you to feel safe. You knew the man before you better than anyone, and you were eager to see what kind of mind numbing pleasure he would help you experience. Your hands rest on his chest, he still scanned your features for any sign of apprehension. "I want to experience all of you Taishiro." That was all it took to send him tumbling over the edge. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he attacked your neck, lips leaving a trail of fire across your skin. You couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of his rough, calloused fingers sliding underneath the hem of your dress, successfully hiking the fabric up to your waist with ease.

"Such a pretty little thing you are darlin'." He massaged your thighs, the room filled with the chorus of small gasps and moans that fell effortlessly from your lips as he nipped and sucked dark marks onto your cleavage. "I want everyone to know you're mine after tonight sweets." You let out a surprised yelp as Taishiro dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders and bringing him face to face with your already soaked cunt. "You like to be tossed around a little. Don't you, princess?" You bit your lip, your head connecting with the wood behind you with a full thud. Your cheeks burned, embarrassed that he managed to get you turned on so easily. Taishiro chuckles at your expression before placing soft kisses along your thigh. You squirmed in his grasp, his hot breath fanning over your exposed skin. "Be a good girl and sit still for me darlin'." You would have laughed if you weren't in such an exposing predicament. It's not like you had a choice whether or not you would sit still, Tai had his arms snaked around your thighs in a vice grip, you couldn't have escaped even if you wanted to. You whined, fingers tangling in his hair, the pet name turning you on even more. You wanted to be good for him, to have him push you over the edge of your climax over and over again until you went limp. But, even in just your day to day life, Taishiro was a tease; Rolling up his sleeves to show up his muscular forearms and hands as he perched himself just a little too close to you at your desk to read something, he was very good at getting you flustered with the simplest actions. Now was no different. Panties ripped from your body and discarded as he kissed the lower half of your body everywhere besides where you needed him to most.

"Tai," you whine his name, giving his hair a gentle tug, "please." He rested his head against your thigh, looking up at you with a smirk as he noticed just how needy you were for him. He hadn't even touched you yet and you were already coming undone before his eyes. His eyes kept you locked in place, keeping eye contact with you as he finally gave you some relief. You cried out for him, giving his hair another firm tug. You felt him smirk against you at your outburst, satisfied with your reaction. He ate you out like you were his last meal, every movement from his skilled tongue threatening to send your climax crashing over you. Your body moved on its own as you ground your soaked pussy against his face. He hums against you, glad to see you enjoying yourself. You gasped as he slipped a finger inside you, wanting to get you as prepared as possible for later. "Fuck, you're so good at this." You couldn't help but giggle, your head swimming in pure pleasure.

His thumb replaced his tongue against your clit, rubbing circles at a firm, even pace over the already sensitive nub. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself." He chuckles. "Think you can keep up? You're already looking pretty fucked out sweets." You could hear the shit eating grin in his voice, your response cut off with a moan as he slipped another finger inside of you. Your cunt was already stretched around his fingers alone, you couldn't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. You pushed down on his fingers, strangled gasps and moans leaving your shaking frame as he inched you closer to your orgasm. "Are you going to finish for me darlin'?" You nod, biting down on your lip to try and quiet your sounds. "Eyes on me sweets, I want you to look at me while you cum." Your face burned as you locked eyes with him, your head empty aside from any command he gave you. His mouth returns to your sex, assaulting your clit with his tongue before sucking it roughly into his mouth. You screamed his name as you climaxed, your legs shaking, crushing Taishiro's head between them in the process. He places one last kiss on your clit once he finishes with you, causing you to jolt. He helps you down off of his shoulders, arms never ceasing to support you as your feet hit the cold wooden floor. "Where's the bedroom?" You attempted to start walking in its direction, your legs felt like jelly as they struggled to keep you upright. You giggled as he scooped you up in his arms again.

"It's the last door on the left." He carries you through the door, setting you gently on the bed before leaning down to kiss you, the taste of you still on his lips. He tugged at the bottom of your dress, asking your permission to fully remove it. You gave him a nervous nod in response, allowing him to peel the fabric off your body. He took in the full sight of you with a smile, you couldn't help but notice the massive bulge in his pants as he stood in front of you.

"You are so beautiful sweets." He pulled his shirt over his head. Even in his civilian form he still had the soft tummy you loved so much, the softly defined muscles of his arms and chest, he really was flawless. As he stepped out of his pants you realized you were in trouble. Taishiro's impressive length looked like it was enough to rip your small frame in two. He chuckles at the slight fear he saw in your eyes. "Don't worry darlin', I'm gonna take my time getting you ready." He was back on you in an instant, lips finding yours with ease as he carefully laid you back. His massive paw cupped your sex, slowly palming you to help you relax. You whimpered softly, grinding against him to try and get more friction. He chuckles, "not enough sweetheart?" His thumb runs languid circles against the bundle of nerves, still sensitive from your last climax you moan softly into the crook of his neck. Two fingers teased at your entrance before they pushed inside you. The intensity of being so suddenly stretched open caused you to tense, Taishiro stopped the instant he felt it. Soft kisses were placed along your neck and shoulder, "just relax princess, I got you. You doin' alright?" You nod against him, arms holding onto him as tightly as you could manage. Your muscles loosened, allowing him to fully slide his fingers inside you. You feel him start to move slowly inside of you, fingers rapidly being able to slip in and out of you with ease as they become slick with your juices. Your feverish panting and Taishiro's gentle praise broke up the silence. "Such a good girl, you take my fingers so well, sweets, you're doing such a good job." A veil of sweat now covered your skin, every small touch sent a jolt of electricity across your exposed body. Your nails dug into his back as Taishiro added a third finger. You hissed at the slight sting but urged him to keep going, it felt incredible and you didn't want him to stop. The slow thrusting of his fingers began to pick up again, everytime brushing a certain spot inside of you that numbed your mind completely. Your vision went white as your second orgasm hit you, this one even more intense than the first one. You whimpered and squirmed in his grasp. Taishiro looked down at your quivering form with bright eyes as his thumb picked up its pace on your clit.

"Taishiro, fuck!" Your fingers raked down his back, you were sure you had left marks behind but he didn't seem phased in the slightest. A second orgasm crashed into you right after the other one. You bit down on his shoulder to muffle the scream that ripped through you. He gradually slowed his pace, allowing you to come down from your high. You looked down to see his free hand pumping his massive erection. You placed a hand on his chest, letting your head fall back against the mattress as you tried to regain control of your breathing. "Lube… bottom drawer… just give me a second." You giggled through your panting. Taishiro retrieved the bottle, before he had the chance to prepare himself, you decided to help him. You placed a hand on his waist, nudging him in the direction of the bed. He says down without complaint, smirking as he watches you squirt copious amounts of lube into your palm. You gently pushed the head of his cock against your hand, he let out a low groan, his head tilting back slightly as he kept himself propped up on his elbows to watch you.

"Fuck, sweetheart. Your hands feel really good." He smiles, his flushed cheeks and blown out pupils leaving nothing to the imagination about how good you were making him feel. You pumped him slowly, a soft moan escaping his lips whenever your palm dragged over his tip. Now sufficiently lubed up, Taishiro grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto the mattress, eliciting an excited squeal from you. "You ready darlin'?" You nodded, attempting to let your body relax as much as possible. He ran the tip of his cock along your entrance, the lube making you even more wet than you already were. He slowly eased into you, stopping at any sign of discomfort and allowing you to adjust. You leaned into his touch as he rested a hand on your cheek, groaning as he got as deep inside of you as he possibly could. You whimpered as your walls stretched around his thick length, hiding your face against him as he sat there motionless, allowing you to adjust. "I'm gonna try and move princess, stop me if it's too much." He eases himself out of you and carefully pushes back in. Placing gentle kisses against the side of your face, telling you repeatedly how good you're doing, how incredible you felt around him. Slowly the discomfort dissipated and you were filled with nothing but pure pleasure.

"Faster." You stammer out. Taishiro wasted no time on your request, gradually picking up speed until your screams of pleasure were the only sound that filled the room. He kissed you hard, the ruthless thrusting paired with his lips on yours taking your breath away. You tugged him back by his hair slightly, "I'm gunna-fuck." The words you were trying to get out were cut off by your high pitched whine, your toes curling and head spinning from how good he was making you feel.

"Me too sweetheart." His thrusts were starting to get sloppy, his intensity dropping as he neared his own climax. He quickly pulled out of you, pumping his cock as hot ropes of cum shot all over your stomach and chest. He gave you one more soft kiss l, looking lovingly into your eyes as he gently cupped your face. "How are you feeling, princess?"

You nodded, voice coming out in a horse croak as you spoke, "wonderful." Taishiro chuckles, giving you a quick peck before he stood up.

"I'll be right back, I think I saw your bathroom across the hall right?" You nodded, watching him as he disappeared only to come back a few moments later with a cloth to clean you up with. "Alright sweets, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" He carefully ran the warm washcloth over your body, being as gentle as he possibly could as he cleaned you up. You hissed as he ran the cloth over your sex, knowing you would be incredibly sore come morning. "Sorry 'bout that sweetheart."

"It's okay, I didn't expect to walk away unscathed." The two of you shared a laugh as he discarded the cloth and crawled into bed next to you, helping you under the covers. He pulled you into his arms, you nuzzled against his chest.

"Do you, um… do you want to make things official?" He asked you nervously. You rest your chin on his chest, gazing up at him with an expression nothing short of pure adoration.

"Tai," he turned his gaze down to look at you as you said his name. "I've had feelings for you for a long time. Today was… perfect. I would go up to the roof and scream that you're my boyfriend right now if my legs would carry me there." He chuckles, running his fingers through your hair.

"Your boyfriend, huh? And you're my girlfriend." He beams down at you, you nod with a giggle. "I'd really like that." You push yourself upwards to kiss him before snuggling into his side. You drifted off in his arms that night, completely content now that he was at your side. You woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen. You got yourself dressed, stretching as you wandered your way into the kitchen. Taishiro stood there in nothing but his boxers, the sight alone was enough to bring a smile to your face. You hugged him from behind, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades before laying your head against his back. "Mornin' darlin'."

"Morning." You sigh sleepily. You were about to ask him how long he'd been up when there was a frantic knock at the door. Peering out into the hallway you saw Taishiro's two sidekicks standing there with a nervous expression. "Kirishima, Amajiki, what are you two doing here?"

"Fatgum's missing, we've been trying to call him all morning, he never made it to the office-" Kirishima was cut off by their mentor appearing behind you in the doorway. "Oh-"

"I forgot to charge my phone. Smart plan coming to (Y/N)'s though, good job boys." He wraps an arm around your shoulders, the two of them absolutely dumbfounded by what they were seeing. "Come on in, I'm making breakfast."

[moonshine-dan]

I bet fatgum (the BMI hero) only dates thin women

[faulty-writes]

Tamaki Amajiki head canons please 🙏

[ I can make Tamaki headcanons, although you didn't specify what kind. So, I made this. The reader and Tamaki falling for each other and Tamaki eventually confessing those three little words. ]

The first time you met him was shortly after relocating to Japan, you were a fresh graduate who wanted to explore a different world. The BMI hero: Fat Gum was the only one that offered you, an outsider, a position in his agency and he was the one that introduced you to "Suneater" aka Tamaki Amajiki.

The two of you didn't exchange many words, even when you were in the same room. At first, you believed it was because of the obvious cultural difference, this aside you noticed you were beginning to stare at him whenever he happened to be nearby. You knew this indicated you found something fascinating about him, but whenever he caught your gaze, he'd gasp and quickly turn away to hide his obviously flushed face.

"Now don't mind him, he's a shy one! But I see the way ya look at him. Ya have a bit of your heart involved, don't ya?" Those words were Fat Gum trying to reassure you that Tamaki did, in fact, like you despite his questionable actions. Yet, you weren't ready to admit you were attracted to him.

"O-oh um, s-sorry I just l-let me-ah!" His panicked voice wasn't something you'd soon forget, and you thought it was awkward to have almost run into him while trying to pass through the doorway of Fat Gum's office. The fact that the two of you tried to get out of each other's way only to get in each other's way again was not how you wanted to get his attention.

"I...I'm not sure w-what to do, they're just..." he tried to explain his feelings about you to Mirio, but it was useless. "You said they're from America, right? That's pretty cool and you're pretty brave! You'll find the courage to talk to them soon. After all, you can't hide your feelings forever, right!?" His best friend responded in his all too cheerful voice which made Tamaki sigh.

He had no idea why but being near you made him happy. It was a weird feeling considering he didn't believe he had much to smile about and part of him hated it while another didn't want it to stop.

You found yourself feeling a little let down whenever a day went by, and you didn't see Tamaki or only caught a glimpse of him around the agency. Little did you know he felt the same way, and Fat Gum quickly caught onto this fact given the look of happiness or sadness on your faces by the end of the day.

"I...I think I need to tell them...I know they're still n-new here but I..." he jumped when Fat Gum laid his hand on his shoulder and trembled when he lifted his head to look into the eyes of his mentor. Fat Gum smiled down at him and gave a thumbs-up with his free hand. "Go get'em," despite his encouraging words, Tamaki couldn't help but feel a panic attack coming on.

Fat Gum calling you into his office was nothing new, but your heart raced when you noticed Tamaki was the only one in the room and even more so when he stood up and walked over to you, staring you directly in the eye. Then he muttered the three little words that made you smile, "I l-like you."

[the-eternal-quest-for-balance]

The rock band said it would not only take legal action against the Trump campaign but also donate any royalties from its lawsuit to the socialist Harris/Walz ticket. The Trump campaign responded by insisting that they did have a license to play “My Hero,” however.

One news outlet has uncovered the truth, and it turns out the Foo Fighters lied. The Independent reported Saturday that The Trump campaign DID have permission to play “My Hero” at the rally.

The paper has seen documents that confirm that Team Trump licensed the song from BMI’s Songview service.

The Foo Fighters ignored the fact they sold their rights to BMI while threatening to sue the Trump campaign. What dishonest, virtue-signaling leftists.

[prince-honeypaw]

WARNING: This post contains mentions of terminal illness and parental death! Proceed with caution.

♡ There are no secrets kept between Tamaki and Mirio. They've grown up together since they were just developing their quirks and have been attached at the hip for just as long. Where Tamaki went, Mirio was never far behind! They're in perfect tandem.

♡ Up until their first year at UA that is.

♡ Going to a prestigious hero school was already very stressful for Tamaki, but that wasn't all that bore down on his frazzled mind. Not long before he was accepted into UA, his grandmother had passed away. She was his only living family member after his mother passed from a terminal illness when he was rather young, which meant that he was hopping from foster home to foster home his entire first year. It was terrifying for him!

♡ He was so afraid of being alone again.

♡ Mirio was at a loss on how to help his closest friend. He knew that Tamaki was struggling with moving every month or so, but nothing he tried seemed to alleviate that stress. From putting time aside to help him try to regress or taking him out to do something fun, it only ever ended in Tamaki going home in tears.

♡ It wasn’t until he started his work study with Fatgum that someone finally found the solution to—at least one of—Tamaki’s anxieties. He was adopted by the BMI Hero and finally had that stable living situation that he desperately needed in order to thrive! And, with that settled, Tamaki’s little slowly started to come back out one step at a time. He was hesitant to let Taishiro know about his regression, but Taishiro is one of the most understanding and open minded heroes out there. Different strokes for different folks!

♡ And, while happy that Tamaki was starting to feel better enough to regress again, Mirio couldn’t help but feel this little twinge of disappointment. Disappointment in himself for not being able to help his best friend when he needed it most. He tried his best to not let it get to him, but oh did his smile not quite reach his eyes for a time afterwards. He was afraid of not being needed anymore.

♡ Soon after, things went back to how they used to be! For the most part. New routines filled the cracks and became the new norm... Up until another wrench was thrown in the cogs a year and a half later.

♡ UA's dorm system was implemented for the safety of the students, but Tamaki feels like it was an attack on him personally. He had gone through so much to settle in with Taishiro! He paced and fretted over the new stressor for days upon days before it was time to move in. Taishiro promised that everything would be peachy keen, and that he'd always have his home in Esuha when all was said and done! It wasn't like he was being exiled.

♡ His words went in one ear and right out the other the moment he had to pack away his regression gear, squawking and fretting that someone would find out! He couldn't- He shouldn't- He WOULDN'T! And, regretfully, he didn't. Taishiro said that if he changed his mind, he'd have it all packed and ready to go when he saw him next, but Tamaki was stubborn in his decision.

♡ Moving into the dorms was suspiciously simple to Tamaki. He didn't drop anything, didn't trip up the stairs, didn't spill water on the new carpet in his dorm- And having dinner with the rest of his class wasn't a disaster either. It was actually... Very fun! Nejire was in the dorm across from his own and Mirio was just a floor away, so he didn't feel as alone as he thought he would be.

♡ It was nice. Something he would have to tell Taishiro about later.

♡ However, he hadn't noticed just how much later it had gotten! The sky had grown darker and most of the class had already disappeared into their dorms, leaving a chilling quiet to bear down on his mind. He'd been so content with the company of so many familiar faces that it never occured to him that his schedule had been thrown off entirely.

♡ First was brushing his teeth. Then was taking his medication with a bottle- A bottle he didn't have. That was fine, it was fine! There was no need to freak out, okay... He could just skip that part and take his medicine with a glass of water. Then he could get dressed and get Lilliput r- Lilliput was still at home. Okay... Okay, that would be harder to do without, but he didn't need to freak out! He... Papa could fix it-

♡ Like the shatter of glass, Tamaki's already slipping headspace crashed to the floor with that realization. Papa wasn't there. He was all alone now, all alone without the comforts he'd grown to rely on when the world felt so much bigger and he felt so... so small. Tears fell hot and thick, hiccups burning his throat. He was alone, he was alone, he was alone, he—

"Tamaki?"

♡ His breath caught and he snapped to attention. Mirio, suddenly understanding the situation with only a look, wore an expression that was as warm as sunlight, reaching out and taking Tamaki's hands.

"Hi there, sunshine! What's going on up here?" He asked with a gentle tap of his fingertip to the baby's forehead. Tamaki blinked through the tears and immediately jammed himself into Mirio's comforting presence and fit against him like a puzzle piece, hiccuping when he managed to speak. His words were jammed together between panic and his headspace, but Mirio nodded along as though it was just another conversation.

♡ Because, to him, it was! He knew baby Tamaki just as well as he knew big Tamaki, through timid mumbles and teary babbling, Mirio understood him. Rough thumb pads gingerly wiped the still falling tears off his ruddy cheeks, and Mirio spoke in a soft voice he knew was just for him.

"Okay, I gotcha, I gotcha! I still have some of your stuff on hand, remember?"

At the slow nodding, Mirio smiled, "That's right, so we can text your papa that you need your stuff and go get it after class tomorrow, 'kay? It's no big deal."

♡ Tamaki, still sniffling, echoed the words, "No big deal...", before letting Mirio guide him through his nighttime routine with what they had. A sippy full of water and a puppy plush suited him just fine, but following Mirio to his room was just inevitable. He felt so much less lonesome with him there and Mirio couldn't find it in himself to take Tamaki up to his own room.

♡ So, they settled in for the night in Mirio's dorm. Tamaki picked out a story on his tablet while Mirio washed the spare pacifier he kept around for Tamaki when he would stay over. With the pacifier clean and the sippy refilled with fresh water, Mirio returned to tuck in under the covers and pop the soother in Tamaki's mouth. They were in for a night of reading fairy tales and just being together.

♡ Tamaki barely lasted more than five minutes before he dozed off, his head resting against Mirio's chest. The thrum of his heartheat against his ear was like a lullaby soothed him into letting out a murmured, "N'ni, Mewi..."

♡ While holding Tamaki in his strong, scarred arms and stroking calloused fingers through indigo blue locks, feeling Tamaki's breathing slow into a gentle purr of sleep... Mirio wonders what he ever had to worry about in the first place.

[pinetree-poet]

WEDNESDAY'S WEEKLY POETRY PROMPTS: 10/2/24 ~ IN THE TELLING

IN THE TELLING © 2024 - G. Smith (BMI) ==================== I’ve got cousins by the dozens, Aunts and uncles, too, An endless source of stories, Some of which are true. They flow just like a fountain, In some ancient city square, And the love that’s in the telling, Makes me feel like I was there.

That morning at Pearl Harbor, Watching the attack, Great-granddad ran down to the docks, Never looking back. Great-grandma started cooking, Feeding sailors as they came, Saying where they’d seen her husband; And maybe just their name.

When Neil took that first small step, For one as well as all, Daddy got to see it, ‘Cause he answered grand-mom’s call. Running from the back yard, With his brother by his side, They sat before that black-and-white, Eyes and mouth opened wide.

I’ve got cousins by the dozens, Aunts and uncles, too, An endless source of stories, Some of which are true. They flow just like a fountain, In some ancient city square, And the love that’s in the telling, Makes me feel like I was there.

The winning play at homecoming, The wreck on Corinth Road, The girl that broke a thousand hearts, The yard all of them had mowed. Fireworks and fireflies, Watermelon by the pool; That bull that broke the lower fence, Making them all look like fools.

I’ve got cousins by the dozens, Aunts and uncles, too, An endless source of stories, Some of which are true. They flow just like a fountain, In some ancient city square, And the love that’s in the telling, Makes me feel like I was there.

Good old dogs, beat up old cars, Honky-tonk heroes, long closed up bars; Laughing at sunset, underneath the stars. Tales for the harvesting, complete with all the scars.

Yeah, I’ve got cousins by the dozens, Aunts and uncles, too, An endless source of stories, Some of which are true. They flow just like a fountain, In some ancient city square, And the love that’s in the telling, Makes me feel like I was there.

The love that’s in the telling, Makes me feel like I was there.

[fandom-smut-shots]

I'm Sorry Kiss - Katsuki Bakugo

A/N: Based on a dream I had where I got into a fight with Bakugo and ended up in the hospital. I know that Bakugo rejecting someone because he wants to focus on being a hero is kinda overdone but it was the first thing I thought of and I tried to embellish it. Also, I know that Dynamight is his official hero name, but I refuse because I like Ground Zero better. Gender neutral!reader. PS, I generally suck at fight scenes, and I’ve never written for any of the pros before, so I apologize if anything seems off. Words: 3,410

“Bakugo… I like you.”

Bakugo Katsuki stared at the confession in his hands. The letter was long, nearly three pages front-to-back, and the paper was beginning to wrinkle from the intensity of his grip.

How did this happen?

You’d insisted upon befriending Bakugo during first year, despite having been placed in class 1-B and therefore hardly getting to spend time with the blond. You found ways around that; sparring sessions, homework nights, even the occasional movie night in the 1-A common room. You’d spent so much time around Bakugo that they’d adopted you as an honorary classmate, and they were ready to crown you royalty when you’d shown up for one particular game night with the explosive blond in tow. You’d become friends – close friends. Bakugo supposed he hadn’t minded that. But now, here you stood, two years later, presenting him with a letter of your true feelings.

“Uh… Bakugo?”

How could you let that happen? How could he?

“I’m going to be the number one hero,” he murmured gruffly, refusing to meet your eyes. The spark of hope that sat in your chest flickered weakly in response to his tone. You’d spend enough time around Bakugo to know his moods from a single grunt, and right now, he didn’t sound particularly enthused.

“I’m going to be number one,” he repeated. “I can’t do that if I let extras like you weigh me down.”

The flame in your chest was extinguished in an instant, suffocated by the stomp of Ground Zero’s boot. “Bakugo, I-“

“I don’t want to hear it,” he grumbled. His voice was low, nearly unrecognizable. It was a tone you’d never heard from him.

“Just go,” he growled, turning away from you. All you could do was stare at his back as he stalked down the hallway, footsteps heavy with anger. Tears bubbled in your lash line, blurring your vision, but you choked them back, standing pathetically in the middle of the hall.

The rest of the school year blurred into one muddled block of time. Your visits to the 3-A dorm had ceased nearly immediately upon Bakugo’s rejection of your feelings. You passed your friends in the hallway every now and then, and you didn’t shy away from a sparring match during mixed training days, but you kept your distance from Ground Zero and avoided discussing what had happened to your friendship. Mina and Kirishima had known the cause of the rift as soon as you stopped coming around, and they offered sympathetic glances and attempted words of encouragement whenever your classes trained together.

Graduation sneaked up on you before you’d even realized the school year had ended. You walked through the ceremony in a haze, barely tuning into the speeches and announcements. Friends, classmates, and pro heroes congratulated you on your success, as well as your impending position at Fatgum’s agency. You could only hope that Bakugo had accepted a job literally anywhere else, preferably at an agency that rarely interacted with Fatgum.

You weren’t working at the agency long before you were called to join Fatgum on patrol. Your heart hammered inside your chest as you strolled beside the BMI hero down the streets of Esuha City, keeping your eyes out for any lurking danger. This was your first patrol as a fully-fledged hero, and you were determined to make a good impression.

“So, (hero/n),” Fatgum beamed beside you, “what made you choose my agency? Word around the hero ranks is that you had quite a few offers by the time you graduated!”

“Oh!” you fumbled in surprise, heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, I’ve always admired you, Mr. Fatgum, sir. The way you always keep such a positive attitude even in the midst of a dangerous battle is inspiring. A lot of pro heroes are really intimidating, but you’re more genuine than that.”

“Aw, thanks kid! You’re making me blush!” the hero let out a laugh. “But please, just call me Fatgum! No need for that ‘Mr’ nonsense. You’re working with me, after all!”

“Not to be pedantic,” you countered, lifting a hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of your neck, “but technically I work for you.”

Fatgum shook his head. “I know a lot of pros see it that way; they like having subordinates to boss around. But you’ve seen how I interact with Suneater, haven’t you? I like to think of you guys as colleagues rather than employees.”

“I appreciate that si- Fatgum,” you replied with a soft smile. “That’s another reason I chose your agency. You respect all heroes, regardless of their rank or experience.”

Before he could respond, a scream sliced through the otherwise quiet afternoon. You shared a look with the BMI hero before you both took off towards the sound, the local citizens parting the way as you approached. The source of the scream was revealed to be a young woman, maybe a few years older than you, cowering on the pavement beneath a much larger man. Your footsteps alerted him to your presence, and he spun on his heel to face you and Fatgum. His mouth was open, his large tongue hanging down to the ground, tapered at the tip and barbed all the way down. His face appeared disfigured, his eyes pitch black and his jaw unhinged.

“He looks like something out of a sci-fi movie,” you commented, grounding your feet and preparing to activate your quirk.

“Keep your distance,” Fatgum warned. “That tongue looks like a long-range attack, and I don’t think those spikes would be too comfy.”

You nodded in agreement as the man, if he could even be called such, screeched at you, the sound akin to a pterodactyl. Looking lower, you found long claws taking place of his fingers, and a thick reptilian tail extended from his backside. Fatgum stood tall and firm as the mutated villain lunged forward, tongue extending to wrap around the hero’s frame. Once he collided with the hero’s belly, he bounced backwards, landing roughly on the ground. You dashed to the side, out of the villain’s sight, to check on the woman whose scream had caught your attention.

“Are you hurt?” you asked her quietly, checking for any obvious injuries.

“I’m okay,” she insisted. “You two came just in time. I think he was about to eat me!”

You took her hands in yours, helping her stand. “Get as far away from here as you can. We’ll take care of this guy.”

She nodded and bowed her head in thanks before running down the street, blending into the crowd. Just as you turned around, the mutated man turned his attention towards you, having lost interest in his one-sided fight against Fatgum. You could see tears in Fatgum’s costume, evidence that the reptilian villain had attempted quite a bit of damage. But now his focus was on you, and you barely had time to jump out of the way before his barbed tongue lashed towards you. You activated your quirk, but before you could charge in with a single attack, the villain spun around, his tail sweeping the ground where you stood, knocking you off your feet.

Fatgum charged forward, enveloping the villain with his fat and restricting his movements. The villain screeched again, leading you to weakly cover your ears before a flapping sound echoed through the air. Your gaze lifted to find what appeared to be another mutated man in the sky, flying with large, leathery wings. Upon spotting his restrained comrade, he dove down towards Fatgum, his sharp beak-like face stabbing into the hero’s shoulder. Fatgum grunted, stumbling backwards from the impact.

You rose to your feet, ready to rush to his aid when something wrapped around your torso. Looking down, you found what appeared to be scaled fingers as long and thick as your leg secured around your body. Struggling against its grasp, you turned your head to look behind you, coming face-to-face with a third disfigured villain.

Lunchtime found Ground Zero and Red Riot sitting on the roof of their shared apartment building, bento boxes packed by one Bakugo Katsuki in hand.

“What happened between you and (y/n), man?” Kirishima inquired suddenly and with all the subtlety of a stampeding elephant.

Bakugo fixed his garnet gaze on the sky above them. “We’re not friends anymore.”

The redhead huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I know that. I want to know why. You two used to be tight; tighter than you and me, and that’s saying something.”

The blond remained silent.

Kirishima watched his friend, coworker, and roommate for a moment. “What? Did they confess to you, or something?”

Bakugo’s gaze fell to the food he no longer had any desire to eat.

Kirishima’s own eyes widened. “Shit, man. Isn’t that a good thing? You’ve been in love with them since that first movie night they convinced you to join.”

The blond quickly turned towards his friend, brows furrowed as though he hadn’t been obviously pining over you for three years.

The redhead laughed, loud and genuine. “Did you think us extras didn’t notice? You never joined movie night for anyone, not even me. Plus, you let them sit on your lap, and you were practically vibrating when they fell asleep on you. Everyone knew how you felt about them, except for them. And maybe you.”

Bakugo’s expression turned sorrowful and his eyes fell back to his lap. “I know how I feel about them,” he murmured, his voice lacking its usual gravelly edge. “I didn’t want to admit it, but I know.”

“Then why didn’t you accept their confession?” his friend questioned lightly. When Bakugo didn’t respond, Kirishima exhaled a sigh. “You gave them the ‘number one hero’ speech, didn’t you?”

The explosive hero flinched. That was all the response Kirishima needed.

“When are you going to stop using that bullshit excuse to push people away?” he demanded. When Bakugo faced him with wide, surprised eyes, he continued. “You’re going to be number one hero. Everyone knows that. Why can’t you be number one while having a loving partner at your side? (y/n) has always supported you, even back before you were social. They understand how important this is to you. And I know how much you care about them. Why push them away?”

“That’s not why,” came Bakugo’s soft response. “That’s what I told them, but that’s not why I rejected them.”

Kirishima waited, quietly and patiently, for his friend to continue, knowing that encouraging him would only make him shut down.

The blond inhaled deeply before speaking again. “I’m going to be the number one hero,” he reiterated, and the hardening hero knew that it wasn’t just his ego talking now. “What if they get hurt? Being close to me means that villains can use them as leverage, or worse. And it’s like you said - they were there before I was social, when I thought everyone was just in my way. They don’t deserve that. They deserve to be with someone nice, someone like Deku maybe, someone who doesn’t treat them the way I did.”

Only Kirishima ever saw this side of Bakugo - vulnerable, honest, insecure. He knew there was always more to Bakugo’s emotions than the explosive, sandpaper surface.

“That’s exactly why they deserve you, and you deserve them,” he responded softly, earnestly. “You’ve never cared this much about how you treat anyone. You’ve grown so much since our first year at UA, man. You’re a mature hero now, and when you become number one, you’ll have the power and resources to protect people like (y/n). Do you think they would have confessed to you if you were still that antisocial asshat from first year? They’ve watched you grow as a person, grow closer to them. And then you just ripped all of that away.”

Bakugo flinched again. He knew that rejecting your confession must have gutted you, if how miserable he felt about it was anything to go by. But before he could fathom a response, a distress call came in through their earpieces.

“All nearby heroes summoned to Esuha City,” came Fatgum’s staticy voice, and Bakugo’s heart raced in his chest. “(hero/n) and I were attacked, and when the villains realized they couldn’t hurt me, they all launched at (hero/n). I need someone to take them to the hospital while the rest of us take these villains down.”

Bakugo’s heart dropped to his stomach. You were hurt. He jumped to his feet, Kirishima following suit, leaving their bento boxes unopened on the rooftop as they sped to your location.

The steady beep of your heartrate monitor echoed in the otherwise silent hospital room. Ground Zero sat, still in his hero costume, in an uncomfortable chair beside your bed. His elbows rested on his knees as he hunched forward, holding his forehead in his hands. He’d refused to leave the hospital after reluctantly handing you over to the staff so that they could tend to your injuries, demanding an update on your progress every half hour. Were he not a newly popular hero, security would have escorted him away. Thankfully, Red Riot stayed close by to keep the explosive hero grounded while they waited for the doctors to finish patching you up.

As soon as you’d been assigned a room, Bakugo had stationed himself at your bedside and refused to leave. Friends and colleagues had come and gone to check on you as well as Bakugo, knowing that he was irrationally blaming himself for your current state.

“You need to talk to them,” was Deku’s first response upon seeing the blond in your hospital room. Once the villains had been neutralized and Fatgum had been checked over, green hero had made his way as quickly as possible to the hospital to ensure that you had survived your injuries.

“I know,” Bakugo grumbled in response, refusing to look his childhood friend in the eye. He lifted his head from his hands and gazed sorrowfully at your sleeping face, littered with scrapes and bruises. His garnet eyes traveled down your form, taking in the number of bandages and casts wrapped around various parts of your body. He couldn’t help but think if only he’d been there-

“This wasn’t your fault,” Deku commented, his gaze darting between Bakugo’s self-loathing and your peaceful face. “There was nothing you could have done. (y/n) is a capable hero; there were just too many villains. You did exactly what they needed by bringing them here to get help.”

The blond exhaled a deep sigh, as though he’d been holding his breath. “I know.”

A soft gasp sounded in the nearly silent room, and two sets of eyes turned towards you. Your lips were parted and your eyes began to flutter, and Deku took it as his cue to leave. He closed the door behind him, offering the two of you some much-needed privacy.

Bakugo jumped to his feet, but his legs suddenly turned to lead as he attempted to approach your bed. He watched as your eyes opened and you blinked wearily at your surroundings. Hesitation gripped every bone in his body and all he could do was stare helplessly.

Your head turned, catching sight of the blond at your side, and your eyes widened. “Bakugo?” you whispered, your voice raspy. “What are you doing here?”

The sound of your voice was enough for the blond to push himself forward, walking closer until he stood directly beside your bed. His hands gripped at the railing as he looked at you, brows furrowed and mouth agape, his brain struggling to form words.

“I’m sorry.”

Well, shit. He wasn’t planning to jump into an apology. He was hoping to prepare himself a little more first.

Your brow furrowed as you gazed at your former classmate and long-time crush. “Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“Everything,” he exhaled, dropping to his knees as gazing into your tired eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were hurt; when you needed me. I’m sorry I pushed you away when you confessed to me. I’m sorry I just threw away everything we had.”

Your face turned stoic, and Bakugo’s heart pounded in his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize,” you murmured softly, your gaze drifting away from the blond. “You didn’t return my feelings. You wanted to focus on being a hero. I understood that; I never blamed you for it.”

Bakugo shook his head. “I lied,” he admitted, and his chest fluttered. “That wasn’t why I rejected you, I was just too afraid to be honest with myself, or with you.”

You turned back to face the explosive hero, eyes widened with surprise and the smallest sliver of hope. “Why... Why did you reject me, then?”

He inhaled deeply, steeling his nerves before holding your gaze. He reached up with one hand, gingerly placing it atop yours, squeezing gently when you didn’t pull away.

“If I’m going to become the number one hero, I’m gonna make a lot of enemies,” he explained, his thumb rubbing across the back of your bandaged hand. “With my personality, the media would be all over any kind of relationship I had. They’d find out everything they could about you, and villains would use that to their advantage. They could hurt you to get to me, and I refuse to let that happen.”

“Bakugo...” you breathed, your heart breaking as you considered how he must have been carrying this weight with him since the day you confessed. You squeezed his hand in return to the best of your ability, drawing his attention.

“Bakugo, you forget that I’m a hero too,” you smiled softly. “I’m already in danger, and dating a pro hero is much safer than dating a civilian. We’d be able to protect each other, and I knew when I confessed to you back at UA that being number one was your only goal, and that it would be a dangerous lifestyle. I still loved you then, Bakugo Katsuki, and I do now.”

“It wasn’t my only goal,” the blond murmured, his gaze dropping down to your joined hands. “My main goal, yeah, but I had another.”

You waited patiently for him to continue, teeth gnawing at your lower lip.

“I always wanted to make you happy,” Bakugo admitted, refusing to meet your eyes. “When I let you drag me to those stupid movie nights, or sit on my lap, or snuggle into my chest. The smile on your face was more than worth dealing with my classmates and their stupid stares.”

He rose to his feet, standing before leaning over your figure. Your eyes followed his every move, your free hand lifting to gently brush his cheek. He inhaled shakily at your touch, his hand coming to cradle your face. He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours, and your eyes fluttered closed in anticipation.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured before finally closing the gap and capturing your lips. A hum sounded in his throat as the feeling of finally kissing you washed over him. You hummed in return, your hand drifting down to tug at the collar of his hero costume.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, and you chased his words with another kiss.

“I love you too,” you responded before opening your eyes and gazing up into his garnet eyes.

“How about I go home and change-“

Bakugo was cut off by your grip tightening on his shirt, your head shaking adamantly. His brow furrowed as he waited for a verbal response.

“You’re not allowed to leave me anymore,” you murmured softly, and he deflated at the expression on your face.

“Okay,” he smiled softly. “I promise.” He took a step back in order to remove his boots. His gauntlets, mask, headpiece, and neck piece had already been discarded during the hours he waited for you to wake up. His boots soon joined the collection on the floor before he turned back to you and watched as you shifted to make room for him in your hospital bed. He crawled in as gently as possible, outstretching an arm for you to lay on. You curled into his chest, careful not to apply pressure to any of your wounds. His arms wrapped securely, protectively around you, and the next time one of your pro hero friends came to check on you, they’d find the two of you fast asleep and wrapped up in each other.

Writer's Block Masterlist

Writer's Block Fandoms and Characters

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Do you have any fat characters? Everyone seems like their have a BMI of 20

yeah! I've got

Louie (standalone) runs the books for a crime family. (edit: here's one of my favorite comics, featuring him)

Jolie (Total $hit$how) Joy's sister. Joy herself is a body builder and has a healthy amount of fat to support that, and her brother Jethro is somewhere between them

Jericho (Total $hit$how) hacktivist, more chubby than fat but he wears a dad bod really well

Sarah (Wildefire) rogue hero and freedom fighter

Riot Kings has a lot of background guys, but Nadia and Admiral Croft are among the supporting cast

[nena-la-fresa]

Cooked My Way To Your Heart |Part 2|

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio | If you don’t I’ll automatically block you because I’ll assume you’re are a minor.

Part 1 | Part 3 

Pairing: Taishiro Toyomitsu x f! Reader

Warning: Fluff | Eventual Smut | Violence | Angst | Love Triangle

Word Count: 3888

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I updated this. Sorry, I had lost the motivation to write for anime at the moment. I also cringe at my old stuff. I wrote it when I was a teen so I feel like I have go through all of it and edit stuff. 

It was a surprise to Y/n that she had missed Taishiro. It had been two weeks since she last talked to him in person. Y/n found herself missing him, she enjoyed his company to say the least. He radiated so much energy, he made her feel safe. But they would text often which was still better than nothing. 

The bell on the door had rang as she was making meals for some of the locals. She heard shuffling and gasps, followed by a small whine and a light laughter. The voices sounded a bit familiar. “Welcome! Take a seat and I’ll be right with you.” She said not looking up from making the meals. 

Finally done, she took a deep breath, her energy was running out. She was short on staff today, she was now considering getting more older staff. Most of her staff were teens or college students. Which meant less work hours, not that she minded but on days like these she wished she had workers who could work during school hours. It was a very hectic day to say the least. The customers told her not to worry and to slow down but she couldn’t help but want to get to them fast. 

She finally was able to get to the customers that just came in. She looked up and her eyes widened, “Tai-” She cut herself off. “Uh I mean, Fat Gum, what are you doing here?” Y/n could feel her cheeks heat up. 

Taishiro smiled at her surprise, “Just thought I’d stop by and refill my energy with some of the best food in the area.”

“Well I’m glad you came by, I haven’t seen you in a while.” 

“I’m here too.” Tamaki glared at his sister who was lost in a trance with the BMI Hero. 

Y/n shook her head as she turned to Tamaki she ruffled his hair as he groaned from the action, “Of course I know you’re here. Your hero outfit makes you stick out like a sore thumb. Anyways, were you hungry for my food? Or did you need to get some energy too?”

Tamaki pulled down his hood from her comment, “No I’m fine. Fat Gum said he was hungry. He said he was going to take me to a good restaurant, I just didn’t think it was this one. By the time we got here it was too late for me to run away.” Y/n giggled at his response and shook her head.

Seeing her smile made him admire her and her hard work. Even with the way she looked exhausted. Hearing her laugh pulled on his heart strings just a bit, he could get used to hearing her laugh. 

“Sorry Sun Eater, but I couldn't resist coming here. How could I not when the amazing cook is so beautiful.” The hero still looked down at her even when he was sitting. Y/n smiled at his remark as her brother groaned in protest.

“Well you just came in time. My quirk is at its limit so it would be enough with just both of your meals.” As she began to make Tamaki’s food she could feel herself getting dizzy. After moving onto Taishiro’s dish and finishing, she felt drained. As she sat down next to Fat Gum she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. It made her feel comfortable and safe. She closed her eyes and leaned against him. The fat that he had stored up was soft and cushiony. Y/n felt like she was laying on a pillow. And being as exhausted as she was once her head hit his arm she had fallen right asleep. 

Once Taishiro felt her head hit his arm he looked down at her and began to blush. He was going to move her but Tamaki stopped him. “If you move her now she’ll throw a fit. Just leave her.” 

Tamaki had remembered the times he had tried to wake her up when she would fall asleep on the couch while watching tv. She basically threw a small tantrum because he didn’t let her continue to sleep. Fat Gum nodded his head, he was still blushing, his face felt warm, his whole body felt warm. He enjoyed the feeling and eating her food made it even better. 

One thing that Fat Gum should have remembered would be to never show themselves involved with anyone. Heroes never know who's watched. And this was one of those cases. The heroes hadn’t noticed it yet but there was a man watching them as he sat in the corner, he went unnoticed. He had stumbled upon her restaurant by accident when he noticed Y/n through the window. He even made his way into the restaurant to see if she would notice him. He had felt himself getting riled up remembering how she looked passed him. 

But how could she remember him when it was so long ago. He changed, his voice was deeper, he grew taller. He was nothing like how he was before. But seeing her attention focused on someone other than him made him upset. It made him want to have all of her undivided attention on him and only him. 

 His thoughts were now beginning to be the start of something that no one would have expected to happen. It wouldn’t be something that anyone could have prevented even if someone tried. It was inevitable. If he didn’t do anything then maybe he’d lose her completely this time. He wasn’t going to let this happen, not again, he couldn’t lose her again. Not this time, not when he just found her. 

Y/n had just gotten back from school, as she was walking towards her room she heard crying coming from her brothers room. The twelve year old walked into her little brother's room. Looking down at the 4 year old she walked up to his bed. Hearing her footsteps he opened his eyes and looked up at her with his little indigo eyes. There were small tear stains going down his cheek. 

“Hi” Tamaki scrunched up his nose while he sniffed

“Hey Tama, how are you feeling?” Y/n patted his head. 

“Bad” Tamaki was holding back his tears, not wanting to cry in front of his big sister. 

Y/n smiled at him and crouched, she had an idea to make him feel a bit better. “I’m gonna go to the store real quick, want me to get you something really cool?” 

Tamaki nodded and saw her grab a small jar he had on his bed side. She looked back at him, “Try to stop crying so that you can be really excited when I get back okay?” 

Leaving the house Y/n started to look first in her mothers garden. Not finding anything there she left the front gate to look in the streets. She had been searching for a while and found nothing but she decided to go look at the park. Getting to the park she looked all around and found nothing but just when she was about to give up luck was on her side. 

She saw a yellow butterfly just sitting still on the grass, leaving her jar on the ground. She went up to it cupping her hands to capture it. But right as she got closer the butterfly flew away, she followed it until hands were in her field of vision. 

She saw a boy, looking up at him. She noticed his eyes were a very beautiful color, she had never seen a color like them before. She could feel her face start to heat up. The boy looked at her then at the jar. Motioning for her to get the jar, she brought it to him. She closed the top of the jar as she wondered how he was able to put it in without it flying away. As soon as she was done she looked at him, she could still feel her face being warm. She wasn’t sure if it was from the sun or him.

After being bashful she managed to speak up, “Thank you.” 

The boy nodded and walked away.

Every day after school since then Y/n would always go to the park to look for the mysterious boy. She had gone for weeks, she wouldn’t stop till she could talk to him. Sitting on the swing she began to look around. That was when she saw him across the street. She got up quickly and began to run to him before she lost sight of him. 

“Hey! Hey wait up!” She shouted at him. Hearing her voice he turned around to see who was calling him. 

Now standing in front of him, she got a better look at his face. It was different from the last time, he had a cut on his lip and a black eye. She didn’t know what to think or say but she could see the hurt in his eyes. Without thinking she hugged him, he wanted to push her off of him but it was the first time he had felt this type of affection from a stranger. 

“I’m sorry for hugging you.” 

“I-it’s okay.” Clearly it was as he hugged her back. 

“I’m Y/n.” 

“I’m ---.” 

From then on they had became friends. They would begin to hang out for a year. Within that year Y/n began to notice the marks on his body got worse and how he began to hate physical contact. Yet he still let her hug and grab his hand a lot, he felt like it was fine if she did it. 

The sun had begun to set while the two were still in the park. They had gotten tired and laid down in the grass looking up at the sky that had now turned pink and purple. 

“Hey ---, do you think we’ll always be able to do this? Like hang out more.” Y/n turned her head to look at him as he still watched the cloud go by. 

“I hope so. Maybe we can even grow old together too.” He gave her a rare smile that she had never seen before. He had smiled at her before but there was something different about this. She couldn’t help the heat that ran across her face.

“---! Get over here now!” Just as the calm of the moment came it quickly disappeared. The smile on his face fell, there was that same hurt in his eyes when he first met her but it was mixed in with fear. 

Y/n looked up and saw a man and woman walking towards them angrily. 

“So this is where you've been. I always knew your sorry ass was doing something. Get up, we’re leaving.” The woman yelled at him. But he didn’t do what he was told, her patience grew thin. 

“I said get up!” She came over to him and grabbed his arm roughly, he was clearly in pain. 

Getting up Y/n grabbed his hand and tightly held it, “Stop you’re hurting him!” 

The man made his way to Y/n he pulled her hand away from the boy's, but she wouldn’t stop trying to reach his hand again. That’s when the man had enough and pushed her to the ground and it unfortunately caused her to hit her head. She groaned from the pain, putting her hand to the back of her head she felt something warm, looking at her hand it was now covered in blood. 

“Y/n!” The boy yelled, the built up anger activated his quirk without him knowing. His hand went to the woman’s hand, and as soon as he touched it, she vanished, blood began to spill everywhere. 

Y/n eyes opened wide, she couldn’t process what had happened. Her vision began to get foggy, she was going in and out of consciousness. 

The boy looked at the blood on his hands and hives began to form. While he was distracted the man came up behind him, knocking him out. Lifting him up on his shoulders the man began to walk away, Y/n tried to get up but fell back down. She stretched out her hand, tears falling from her eyes. 

“---” she lightly said. 

“---” 

“Kai!” As soon as she woke up she sat up, her hands going to her face as she felt tears pouring down her face. 

The normally loud restaurant had now gone quiet. Looking over at Taishiro and Tamaki she could see the horror on their faces. And unknown to her, her old friend was a wanted man that the two happened to be chasing. To her it didn’t make sense, Tamaki was too young to remember her old friend, and Taishiro hadn’t been in her life then. 

 There was one person who was even more surprised, the man himself. She remembered him, he couldn't believe it, there was hope. But seeing that hero try and comfort him upset him. 

In a blind rage he stormed out of the restaurant. This didn’t go unnoticed, Y/n looked in his direction but was unable to see his face due to a mask. She turned her attention back to Taishiro when he got a call. 

“Alright, we’ll be right there.” He looked at Tamaki then back at Y/n. 

He was worried, he hoped that the Kai she named wasn’t Overhaul. And if it was he didn’t understand why or how she knew him. It upset him, it made his heart hurt to think that she would know someone like Overhaul. He very much wanted to push away the thought and think it was a different Kai. 

He watched the way she was fidgeting while slept on him, it made his hand clench. “Be careful Y/n. Let’s go Sun Eater.” His mood shifted, it was of determination and anger. The possibility that she knew Overhaul was big but it still made him want to catch Overhaul before something bad happened, not just to others but to Y/n as well. 

Tamaki nodded and said goodbye to his sister. He quickly left with Taishiro. After the two left all the other customers did too. Looking at the time Y/n noticed it was time to close, sighing she got up and started to clean up. She was almost done washing all of the dishes when she heard the bell ring. 

“Sorry we’re closed.” she shouted from the kitchen. 

It was silent. She grew nervous, maybe it was her imagination. But then she heard footsteps making their way to the kitchen.

She grabbed the closet knife she could find, looking at the doorway she saw a shadow figure walking through the doorway. A man with familiar hair color and eyes, she couldn’t pinpoint it until he removed his mask. He smiled at her, a smile she hadn't seen since that day that they were lying on the grass together. 

Y/n felt her eyes begin to water as she dropped the knife. She had moved closer to him. Her hands went to his face, his eyes closed as she lightly touched his cheek to make sure he was real. He pressed his cheek against her warm hand and gave it a light kiss. As his eyes opened his gaze on her softened. 

“Hey Y/n, it’s been a while.” 

As her tears continued to run she smiled at him. She had laughed lightly in disbelief, her hands still on his face, “It really has been. I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again.” 

Kai had taken off his gloves as he raised his hand to her cheek while the other was resting on her lower back. “I know. After what happened it was hell not being able to see you. But I’m here now so let me take care of you.”

Y/n could feel her face heat up just a bit. She hadn’t expected him to say that. How could she not feel something bubble in her at something like that, he was her first love. 

“Thank you for the offer Kai but I’m an adult now. You don’t need to take care of me. Come on, let's sit down, I’ll make your favorite.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him back to the front. Just as they got to the front of the store the doorbell rang. Hearing the bell Kai lifted up his mask. 

Taishiro came in his skinny form, “Hey Y/n! The villain is gone. I came to walk you ho-“ He was shocked to see who was standing next to her. “Y/n get away from him.” Taishiro clenched his jaw seeing the villain. 

Looking at Taishiro and then back at Kai, Y/n was confused at what was going on. Seeing Taishiro caused Kai to tsked. “Guess I’ll have to see you later. I’ll come back for you.” Kai kissed Y/n on the cheek before glaring at Taishiro as he made his way to the back exit. 

Taishiro wanted to chase after him so bad, but he knew he couldn’t, there was a time for that and it was coming near. All he could do was make sure Y/n was okay, he wished he could do more. He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. Looking up at him she was confused, she could feel his hands shaking against her shoulders. 

“Taishiro? Are you okay?” Y/n didn’t understand why it was such a big deal and why Taishiro was so upset about Kai. 

Taishiro looked down at her, his eyes were serious as they looked directly at her’s. She had never seen this look on him before, it scared her. Taishiro regretted the serious look he had on, but it was for her own safety, she needed to know how dangerous Overhaul was. 

“Y/n” He paused for a moment trying to figure out how he could tell her. “That man is a villain named Overhaul. I don’t know how you know him but you can’t be around him. He’s dangerous.” 

Her eyes widened just a bit but her smile came back on. She playfully scoffed “Yeah right Taishiro. That’s a good joke. No need to get jealous.” 

Taishiro wished he was joking, but from the looks of it it seemed like they were close. Even if she was teasing he was jealous. Overhaul kissed her as if they were more than childhood friends. But he knew he couldn’t show those that right now. 

“I wish I was joking with you Y/n. But what I’m telling you is true. He’s killed and tortured people. If he loses control he could hurt you.” 

Kai losing control brought back memories of the day he killed his own mother. Y/n looked down, she didn’t know what to think, her mind raced as she thought to herself ‘Would he really hurt me? No, he isn’t like that. He was never like that.’ 

Looking up at Taishiro, she spoke, “You’re wrong! He wouldn’t hurt me. He’d never hurt me, he never has and never will.” 

He moved his hands to her cheek as he wiped her tears. She was shocked she was crying, she hadn’t even felt them. It was the second time he saw her cry, he didn’t like it one bit. It put a small hole in his heart, he knew he shouldn’t think about it but he wished that she cried for him instead of a criminal. 

“I’m sorry Y/n.” He moved his hands away again, leaning down he pulled her in for a hug. 

“He wouldn’t hurt me right?” She slowly put her arms around his body and held him tightly as she cried. 

It had been weeks since Y/n last saw Kai. For a week she had felt empty. It was to be expected, how else would anyone react when they find out their first love was a criminal. She didn’t have much of a smile when she went back to work. She didn’t really know how to feel. 

But as the day got late she found herself walking back home. As she opened her front gate she noticed a familiar tall figure in front of her door. They were mumbling something quietly as they were fidgeting with what they were holding. Once she got closer she noticed the blond hair on the figure. 

“Taishiro? Is that you?”

The tall beautiful man turned around with a blush on his face. He quickly hid the flowers behind his back. “Oh hey. I didn't know you’d be back so early.” 

“Taishiro, it’s eight nineteen. If anything I should have been home sooner.” She smiled at him. As she made her way towards him she tried to look at what he had behind him. 

“What’s that?” She put a hand on his arm as she looked behind him. She froze for a second, he was holding her favorite flowers. 

“Tai, are these for me?” Her face heated up as she looked up at him. Looking down at her he lightly turned away with his face still pink. 

‘Did she just call me Tai? Did she give me a nickname? And she’s flustered, well shit, she isn’t making this easy.’ The blushing blond thought to himself. 

“Yeah, I hope you like them.” He stuttered and removed the flowers from behind his back. 

“How did you know that these were my favorite?” She smiles at the flowers before leaning to smell them. 

Taishiro thought back to how he got the information. 

The Hero went on his knees and grabbed the boy's hands. “Please Sun Eater tell me what her favorite flowers are!” 

Tamaki gave Taishiro a disgusted look. “Fat Gum people are looking, please stop making a scene.” 

“That’s why I did it! I’ll stop once you tell me what they are!” 

Tamaki groaned and gave in. 

“Oh, just you know by instinct. I saw them and thought of you.” He was mentally sweating, he didn’t want her to know he begged her little brother for that information. 

“Well thank you. They’re really pretty.” She smiled up at him, seeing him this way made her forget about what happened the past week. 

“Yeah! Just like you! Actually you’re prettier than the flowers I take that back.” He started to ramble on and Y/n found it adorable. 

Before she could say something he spoke in a serious tone. “Y/n I’m sorry for what happened when I last saw you. I should have said it better, but seeing you with him made me upset. But it also made me realize that I do in fact like you. And I don’t want to lose to a villain, so please let me take you out on a real date” He said a bit louder than his normal voice. 

After all that's happened she couldn’t refuse him. Her was this man, willing to treat her right. Someone who was respectable, who wouldn’t hurt others. She decided that maybe this was good for her. She smiled at him, “Alright. Let’s go on a date.”

Even if Kai was her first love it didn’t mean that she couldn’t grow feelings for another. 

[bulletproofscales]

Hey my dude Could you write a lil fic where the maknae line are stressed due to exams or sth and they cope with food so they gradually gain weight but it only gets worse when exams are over bc they get pampered by the hyung line to the point where they break chairs and get stuck in doorways 👉🏻👈🏻 - your Prince Charming 😔🤙🏻

i already wrote something nearly exactly similar with the hyung line! if anyone is interested in reading that click HERE. 

but it was one of my first promtps and i felt like i could do this request more justice by digging into it a little more… it ended up being a 4-month-22k-words fic hope you enjoy!!

also im experimenting with adding my inspiration gifs into the fic, i feel like they add something, to me at least. gif credits will be at the end with links to the ops :) 

(if me answering and writing a prompt from 2019 doesnt give you hope about your request geting eventually finished, idk what will) 

A higher GPA, and a higher BMI

tags: namkook , chubby jungkook , fat jungkook mindless eating , stuck in furniture , oblivious weight gain , taejin , chubby taehyung , fat taehyung , student - TA relationship , public stuffings, stress eating , outgrowing clothes ,  sopemin , established relationship sope , chubby jimin , fat jimin , spoiling , breaking furtniture , confessions , miscommunication 

22k words 

AO3 LINK

Already having graduated college, Namjoon Seokjin Yoongi and Hoseok guarantee to help their younger friends with anything they need to hopefully get through this semester as smoothly as possible. 

Jimin Jungkook and Taehyung didn’t mean to push that guarantee to the extreme. 

Jungkook gravitated to Namjoon for help. STEM majors gotta stick together and all that. They weren’t exactly the same, but a lot of their classes overlapped at least at the early years that Jungkook finds himself in. So it wasn’t uncommon to find the two at the maknae’s shared apartment late at night hunched over a pile of exercise sheets and past exams. 

It wasn’t always like this though, Jungkook started college as valedictorian, top of his class effortlessly getting honors and getting into his dream school for bioengineering. But that confidence would be his downfall because nothing could’ve prepared him for the massive effort that you’re supposed to put into a college major. His first ruthlessly failed exam needing an emergency call to Namjoon from Jungkook’s two roommates for him to come and console the poor boy. Easy enough to do if you’re Jungkook’s personal hero. But a bigger problem was brewing for the younger that Namjoon wouldn’t be entirely sure how to tackle. 

Said problem being: a very suddenly anxious Jungkook, unsure of his own skill and unable to figure out how to properly study in a way that ensures this never ever happens to him. 

“Kook-ah, you know what you need to know for the exam.” Namjoon tries. “You will be okay.” His hand sits on Jungkook’s bouncing knee, settling it. He can at least do that. 

“But what if I forget? What if I get so nervous I can’t recall everything I studied. And all my effort goes to waste-” He is spiraling. Namjoon can see him spiraling, he says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“Get up. We are getting dinner.” He stands up, leaving behind a puzzled Jungkook. Groggy from lack of sleep, puffy from stress, hair a fluffy mess from running his hands through it. He looks adorable, and he is wordlessly looking for an explanation. “You’re not gonna get any sleep locked up in here.” 

“I do need to sleep tonight.” Jungkook mumbles more to himself, and Namjoon is a bit concerned about the way the younger says ‘tonight’ like it’s the exception. But he chooses not to comment on it. 

“Exactly, let’s go. Hyung’s treat.” His smile grows on his face, he’s got him hooked and out of the house; and that’s what matters. Jungkook really does have this class figured out, they’ve been at it for hours and Jungkook has been at it for weeks. Continuous days of sleepless nights, Namjoon is sure if he gets as much as one beer into his system, Jungkook will sleep like a baby. 

The decision is simple, something that’s walking distance because Namjoon can’t drive. The shoebox-sized fried chicken place across the street from Jungkook’s apartment. As soon as they walk in, Jungkook is groaning behind him. “I’m starving!” 

It earns a squinted glare from Namjoon over his shoulder. “When was the last time you ate?” 

“Do fingernails count?” 

“Sit down.” Namjoon is nearly tugging at the younger’s sleeve, guiding him to a booth. Trying to be menacing but Jungkook’s giggles show that he is unsuccessful. Too much endearment in Jungkook’s eyes when he looks at Namjoon for it to work. 

The place is nearly empty except for them both and some of the wandering staff. Namjoon didn’t think to check what time it was, or if their kitchen was even open still. And, call it his papa bear instinct, he is not leaving until he gets some food for Namjoon to eat. Fortunately when he calls the water, it’s all good news, he lets Jungkook take over what he wants. Since Namjoon ate the recommended amount of food today, he already had dinner. 

But he’ll share a beer with Jungkook. You know, in solidarity. 

Once they’re out of that stuffy apartment, it’s easy to fill the conversation with literally anything else that isn’t Jungkook’s exam. Feeling warmth spread along his chest at Jungkook’s whole demeanor lightening up. But he hasn’t seen the best of it yet, bunny grin spreading across his face when the chicken is set in front of them. 

“You sure you don’t want any?” His eyes are already eating the glistening chicken, but Jungkook quickly glances up at Namjoon. 

“No, no. I might steal some but I’m not hungry.” It does look like Jungkook ordered for two. But it’s nothing they can’t take home with them. “All yours, Kook.” He smiles, feeling genuine comfort at the sight of Jungkook pretty much launching onto his meal. 

The conversation does die a little inevitably. Jungkook isn’t giving himself much room to talk. He isn’t giving himself room to breathe. Bringing the plate close to his chest for his chopsticks to shovel the biggest mouthfuls his lips can possibly stretch to accommodate. Namjoon wouldn’t be able to ‘steal some of it’ even if he wanted to. Eyes wide as he takes the next bite, but they always close to enjoy the flavourful bites, signature frown letting Namjoon know that the younger is absolutely loving his food. 

Well, it’s nearly animalistic rather than blissful. Some of the caramelized coating of the chicken already staining Jungkook’s lips orange, and it’s beginning to cling to the corners of his mouth and some of his cheeks too; in the particularly huge bites. Not holding back any of the pleasure noises he lets out, because they all get muffled and swallowed by the food. 

The first few dishes licked clean in a matter of minutes.  A burp coaxing its way out of his mouth before he even sets the last empty plate down. 

“Aish… Manners, Jungkook.”  Namjoon feels a blush make his face all warm, as he chuckles through his scolding. 

“I told you I was starving.” He mumbles already bringing up the beer, the one that he had left abandoned as soon as the food was served. Cutting his own speech short with thick gulps of beer. “Ah-” Jungkook manages to close his lips to swallow the burp that comes immediately after. “Can I get some more?” 

It’s Namjoon’s turn to widen a bit beyond endearment. “Aren’t you full?” There’s a confused smile on his face, met with an uncharacteristic serious expression on Jungkook’s face. 

“I really don’t wanna go home yet. I can make more room.”  He sees it again, that fear and anxiety in Jungkook’s big guilty eyes. Namjoon acts on instinct, raising his arm for the waiter to see. 

“Jeogiyo! Another serving of spicy chicken please!” The waiter nods quickly. He shoots a warm smile to Jungkook who is looking gratefully back at him. “And two more beers.” 

Jungkook is determined in everything he does, Namjoon finds out. Even finishing every last crumb of this second serving.  Even as the frown on his face stops manifesting his appreciation for the flavor, but the effort of trying to fit all this food in. Taking a few more beer breaks to possibly wash down the greasy lump that must be forming in his throat. Though that must only make it worse, if the way his cheeks expand in swallowed burps is anything to go by. 

The same silence from Jungkook’s first devouring fills the table, though this time much painfully longer. And without any of the younger’s delighted enjoyment, instead a demonstration of pure… gluttony? Avoidance? Namjoon doesn’t even know what to call it. 

A struggle, is what it is. And Namjoon can’t seem to look away. Eyes following how Jungkook begins to eat with only one hand, the other one mysteriously disappearing under the table. The older can only guess it’s to ease the tension that must be forming at his stomach. 

Obviously already full, but he doesn’t cease until the last piece of chicken forced its way past his lips, at this point chewing slowly and lethargic. His blinking prolonged and sleepy. But he seals the deal by taking his beer and drinking the last few sips of it. Groaning immediately after he swallowed the last gulp. Noise that’s a little coaxed out by the burp that follows straight after. Leaning back on his seat, only his heavy breathing filling the silence. 

“How are you feeling?” Namjoon asks. 

“Ready to pop.” The younger chuckles sleepy. Namjoon was expecting something more along the lines of his emotional state for the exam. But this works too. 

“Want hyung to walk you home?” He can’t help but smile a bit, that blush from both fullness and alcohol on Jungkook’s cheeks, and his pouty greasy lips, it’s incredibly endearing. 

“Yeah… yeah I’ll fall asleep if we stay here.” Both his hands are on the table now, helping himself stand up. Revealing to Namjoon the sight Jungkook had been hiding under the table all their meal. A round cute, slightly reddened, bloat, that pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down; exposed by the shirt, that Jungkook seems to have folded upwards for a better rub. 

Namjoon can’t help but look at it, it’s right in front of his face! 

Looks tight. Small but packed to the brim. He wonders what it feels like to touch. 

The thing to snap him out of his trance is Jungkook unfolding his shirt right back to cover his ballooned stomach. “Do you want anything else?” The younger askes a bit puzzled. Right, Namjoon is still sitting. Still in perfect line of sight with Jungkook’s cute little bloat. 

“No no, sorry. I’m tired too.” He chuckles a bit through his excuse, standing up quickly and calling the waiter to take their bill. Ended up spending more than he anticipated. Namjoon wasn’t expecting Jungkook to order enough chicken for 3 and drink enough beer for him, Namjoon and the other few people in the restaurant. 

Though it’s worth it for the way Jungkook tiredly leans to him as they walk across the street back to his apartment. Not doubting for a second before wrapping his arm around the younger’s shoulders. Keeping it there all through the elevator ride. Feeling particularly accomplished at the way Jungkook nuzzles his neck, feeling his smile against his warm skin. 

His roommates, Jimin and Taehyung, give them a look from the living room; as Namjoon basically guides a half-asleep Jungkook to his room. A blush creeping on the older’s cheeks at the implications.

“H–he ate a lot of chicken.” Namjoon smiles with a nervous chuckle attached to the end of his sentence. 

“If the police come asking we won’t tell.” Taehyung snickers from the couch. As he continues to help Jungkook to his bed. He plops on it like dead weight but he is sleepily smiling up at Namjoon.

“Thanks, hyung.” His voice is still a little thick with grease. Eyes beaming even with bags under them. Just from the slight shift of movement to nuzzle his bed, Jungkook’s shirt is riding up again. A sliver of skin and the ballooned little tummy that pushes against the fabric. 

Namjoon diverts his eyes back to the younger’s face. “Anytime, Kook. Really.” He lets his hand comb through the fluffed up long hair of the younger. “I like seeing you so relaxed for a change.” Namjoon smiles down at him and is rewarded with melodic, slightly tipsy, giggling. “Rest up, okay?” 

“Yes.” 

“You’ll do great tomorrow.” 

“Yes, hyung.” He is already closing his eyes. And Namjoon has to hold back an endeared chuckle. Not bothering to say another word as he quietly leaves the sleeping Jungkook behind. 

It’s about the early afternoon, after what Namjoon imagines is a harrowing exam experience, that he gets a text from Jungkook. 

kook: that dinner worked like MAGIC hyung 

kook: that might have been the best night sleep i had 

kook: NOT EVEN IN EXAMS EASON JUST IN GENERAL

Namjoon wasn’t trying to give life saving advice. Mostly just panicked in an attempt to get Jungkook out of the house. But the relief he feels is too much for him to even feel like a fraud. 

Though it really must’ve worked like a charm. Because he doesn’t get another text from Jungkook for the entirety of exam season. It’s a change of pace to get a text from the younger that isn’t anxiety-ridden, a change that Namjoon entirely welcomes. 

kook: namjoonie hyung

kook: i miss you

kook: come with me to a cafe to study? 

A smile is already splitting his face. 

you: oh i’d love to! but i actually graduated 2 years ago 😅 thanks tho

kook: -_- 

kook: come work or something 

kook: since when are you turning down opportunities to be at a little nice coffee shop with ambiance and good french toast? 

kook: don’t you have anything to work on? 

He can’t help the smile growing on his face. He gets so defensive, as if Namjoon could ever say no to him. And he has some lyrics he’s been wanting to clean up. Though he won’t tell Jungkook, he doesn’t want to remind the younger of his… artist name. 

No matter how many times Jungkook says that Rap Mon was the sole reason he ever approached the older in college, Namjoon refuses to believe it. 

you: sure i’ll find something~ 

kook: you play so hard to get. 

Namjoon would think he sounded annoyed if he didn’t send the coffee shop place and the time to be there. With his headphones, laptop and little lyric notebook he makes sure to be there. 

As most times, Jungkook epsters him for a reason. The place does have a beautiful ambience, and the smell of coffee and baked goods smells divine and the place is filled with mostly one person tables of people buried in their work. He spots Jungkook pretty easily, in one of the booths with an arrangement of what, from Namjoon’s personal experience, he imagines are exercise guides, the obscenely big calculator, and his glasses on, hair up in a bun. 

Cute. 

He must’ve been here for a while longer than Namjoon, if the few clean plates are anything to go by. Jungkook doesn’t notice the older, like everyone else, completely engulfed in what he is doing. 

“You could’ve told me to come ehre earlier.” He chuckles without malice, making Jungkook perk up. 

“Oh! I just got here like 20 minutes ago. I got off class early.” So he ate all this in 20 minutes? “Hi to you too by the way.” He says through pursed lips. A dimpled grin splits Namjoon’s face. 

“Hi, Jungkook. I missed you.” His words are particularly sweet and genuine, just to get a smile out of him. And it works, it always works. 

“You should order something, I picked a place with good salty options for you.” He says smugly. 

“So thoughtful, Kook.” Namjoon sighs dreamily, picking the abandoned menu from the corner of the table. And he is right, he already sees an avocado toast that catches his eye. But when the waiter comes to them to take Namjoon’s order, Jungkook is talking again. 

“I’ll get another latte and one of the cinnamon rolls.” He smiles politely to the waiter, Namjoon has to get over the fact that he is ordering more at all. 

“And… an avocado toast and an americano.” Namjoon recovers smoothly. The waiter looks a little surprised too. If Jungkoko really got here just 20 minutes ago like he says, then yeah, anyone would be surprised he is getting… (Namjoon counts the plates), fourths already. 

Regardless he nods and walks away. Namjoon starts setting up ready to get to work. Though in the silence it seems like Jungkook feels the need to explain himself. 

“That was my lunch.” 

“Oh?”

“This is… dessert.” A smile grows at the sudden seriousness in Jungkook’s tone. 

“Okay.” He says a bit amused, a small chuckle bubbling at the back of his throat. “You can eat as much as you want.” He offers a gentler look, only because there’s a tint to Jungkook’s cheeks. The younger smiles back before they fall into comfortable silence. Only interrupted by their food, and then, quiet eating noises with the subtle scribbling of their paper. 

Until Jungkook is done with his order, then he calls the waiter again. For more food. And Namjoon is getting a proper view of what happened in those first 20 minutes that Jungkook arrived before him. Practically scarfing down the plates without even glancing at them. The hand that isn’t scribbling obscenely long equations onto the paper, reaches for the food. Clumsily, his lips stretching and trying to catch the food without taking his eyes off the exercise. Only lifting his face when he is done and needs to call the waiter for more. Though, the entire staff seems to be alert of Jungkook. 

Is this not the first time he is doing this? 

Namjoon tries not to think about it, but what were once quiet eating noises turn louder the messier it gets. So he can’t ignore it, and at some point he just starts to wonder how much can Jungkook pack in? The stack of plates next to his pencil case is obscene, like something out of an eating contest. One that only Jungkook knows about, and he’s been practicing months to get a head started on.

Because, Namjoon has hung out a lot with him, and even when he was a freshman in college, Jungkook could never eat this much. Not even when the dreadful freshman 15 are supposed to hit. He is so acutely aware of Jungkook’s eating, Namjoon does not manage to do any work that day; not a single verse. Maybe for the better, since he spares himself from Jungkook’s teasing. 

But it’s a long couple of hours. Namjoon knows he could’ve gotten up at any time, they’re just keeping eachother company. Yet, he finds that he can’t quite bring himself to stop stealing glances at the younger, catching him sometimes halfway through stretching his lips around a bite, or even already licking his fingers clean obscenely before reaching for another handful of food. Namjoon is transfixed in this cycle of looking up just to quickly divert his eyes away, though he doubts Jungkook even notices him there. 

Alas, when he finishes his exercise guide, he proudly punches the table grinning. “Done.” He states a bit breathless, which has probably something to do with the massacre of plates beside him. And it’s not even the whole thing, as the staff took the initiative to start taking away the plates as they piled up besides Jungkook. “I can’t look at another one of these or my brain will pop.”

Namjoon has to hold back from saying he imagines there will be another organ of his popping soon. “Yeah I’m all out of juice too.” He says instead, resigned. He is not getting any progress, not today. After fighting for who covers the check, and Namjoon successfully wins, they’re packing their things. 

Only then, does he get to see the impact of Jungkook’s new coping method for stress. When the younger stands up from his chair, without the table covering him anymore and reveals the rest of his body. Namjoon comes eye to eye with Jungkook’s newfound pudgy middle. A belly that hangs just a bit over the waistband of his pants, with a shirt that clings to the pillowy fat; hem barely brushing his bottom roll. As if a wrong movement would make it ride up the gentle curve of his stomach. Tight enough that the dent of his belly button shows through the stretched fabric, clinging fully to the muffin top on his hips and putting full display of the thickness of his waist. 

Having him stood up while Namjoon still sits makes it even clearer that it’s not just his belly that softened, but all of him. His chest rounded out and pushed slightly forward; perky chest and slightly puffy nipples. Something Namjoon maybe would have noticed if it weren’t for Jungkook’s chronically awful posture. Stretching the shirt at the very top. Along with his arms, clinging to the short sleeves without all the definition that Namjoon had gotten used to, instead softer and thicker. And his double chin, from this angle it was evident. Face looked rounder more than ever with the padding under his jaw clear as day as Jungkook looked down to smile at the older. 

“Not enough juice to even get up?” Jungkook retorts and snaps Namjoon out of his trance. 

“Y-yeah yeah sorry.” He stands up quickly, quickly enough that he nearly knocks into the table a bit. Earning a deserved chuckle from the younger, and a flustered huff from Namjoon. “Shush, or I’m making you drive me.” 

“I was gonna offer to drive you anyway. Come on.” 

He doesn’t miss the slight heavy breathing form Jungkook as they walk to the car, and the quiet sigh when he sits on the driver’s seat; he tries to ignore it at least. But Jungkook makes it extra hard to look away when the hand that isn’t steering the wheel cupped the bottom of his belly. Thumb digging into the layer of pudge to reach the bloat, in slow circular motions. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed while studying.” He says, and it’s genuine! Jungkook has a satisfied smile on his face, Namjoon remembers when he had to pry the younger away from the exercise guides and coax him to eat a meal.

Definitely doesn’t have any of those problems anymore. 

“You helped for sure.” 

“Please, you were in the zone even before I got there.” 

“No. No I mean like, the tip. The tip you gave me all that time ago?” Namjoon’s puzzled look must speak for itself. “You know, eating before an exam, eating while studying. Like we did last time.” 

He doesn’t distinctly remember giving Jungkook that advice, but it shows all over his body. And his smile is so proud of himself, the one that reminds Namjoon of an underclassmen highschooler telling him he wanted to go to college for biology just like Namjoon. Just to impress him.

Namjoon simply doesn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. 

In fact, Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to tell him anything else on the matter. Anything that isn’t encouragement. Even when Jungkook isn’t in exam season, he’s become so food motivated; it makes sense to offer him treats during the semester, just to keep him on track…

It makes sense for Namjoon to do that.

Of course. 

Snatching him during the week for study cafes, and bringing beer to all their late night study sessions… They’re all for the sake of Jungkook’s education. 

In the back of his mind, of course, he thinks his genuine encouragement might have gotten out of hand. But it’s worth it for the starch difference in Jungkook’s grades, and overall mood. Going through his classes with ease, as well as going through bags of snacks during said lectures. Through the rest of the year it only got worse, Namjoon knows this, but… Jungkook seems so happy. 

These are some of the thoughts he has to debate with every time he goes to Jungkook’s for another study session. Tonight is no different. Going up the stairs to the younger’s apartment to support Jungkook in the midst of exam season. Though at this point, Namjoon isn’t entirely sure if he is of service anymore. 

But if he isn’t of service, that means he has to face what other reason he could be joining Jungkook so often for. 

And Namjoon simply doesn’t have time for that, he just arrived at Jungkook’s place. Box of brownies in hand. Store bought, Jungkook’s favorite (for some reason). 

“Hyung!” His smile remains just as bright as any other day that Namjoon shows up for support. 

The rest of Jungkook though… It’s unrecognizable. 

In a year, the student’s new “study method” took a toll on Jungkook’s body. The frame that opened the door for Namjoon was close to being as wide as the door frame itself. His waist thickened to the point it buried any trace of Jungkook’s former dainty waist, thick rolls stacking along his sides, staring with jiggly love handles and finishing at the top with, what Namjoon could only describe as, the weight of his moobs beginning to overspill from the sides, beginning to sag to the sides with rounded softened nipples that constantly push against all his shirt. Pushing his arms to the sides, both of them fattened as well, softened without any of its former impressive muscle; they wobbled gently when he scribbled on paper. 

As soon as he opens the door, his belly threatens to push through the threshold on its own, stretching forward in a slope. Slightly firmer at the top and center of it, but surrounded with pillowy and sagging downwards over the waistband of his pants. Overhang girthy and making most of Jungkook’s shirts ride up as he walks. Always shifting in his chairs trying to push his shirt down from behind and then from the front, before he inevitably gives up. It folds into hefty rolls whenever he sits down, taking room on his lap. The fact his legs fattened so much too doesn’t help, pooling out of every chair he sits on, ass wobbling with each step of the stairs that he’s taken Namjoon to their apartment. 

His face… probably the only thing that stayed the same. Cheeks just rounding out cutely, making his face impossibly more of a circle when he grins, bright and heartwarming. With the addition of a bit of padding hanging off his once sharp jawline, into a squishy double chin. 

“Hey Kook.” He says before his staring becomes too obvious. “I bought some motivation.” Namjoon smiles, proudly patting the brownie box. 

“How did you know I was craving these?!” The younger whines thankful, as he steps aside to let Namjoon in. 

“You’re always craving the worst quality brownie in the market.” 

“Hey! There’s definitely ones worse than this! There’s always the cafeteria ones.” Namjoon is already making his way to the dining table. Guided by the scattered papers and books that are already taking over the surface. 

“Second worst, then.” He gives in with a fond smile, like he always does. Taking a seat in front of Jungkook. Who makes the poor IKEA chair creak when he takes a seat on it. “Does that make you feel better about yourself?”

“Immensely.” His shit-eating-grin isn’t any less endearing. 

“What are we studying today?” Namjoon cuts him off instead, only for Jungkook to start showing him the exercises he’s been having trouble with. Wordlessly and poutily. “Oh… oh I remember hating these.” The older’s face scrunches at the memory. 

“I know… It’s gonna take a lot of brownies to get me through this.” Jungkook sulks. And right, because they’ve been implementing a new system. As well as the plethora of “study snacks” that Jungkook mindlessly gorges on while working, there’s the reward snacks. The ones Namjoon keeps out of his reach only to give him when he finishes something. 

It’s been so long, Namjoon doesn’t exactly remember how it started. All he knows is Jungkook is too dependent on it now to go back to not getting snacks as rewards now. 

“Just start with this one.” He points to one of the exercises on his study guide. Before picking up the brownie box and giving it a gentle shake. “There’s enough for the entire syllabus.” That’s the thing that makes Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with newfound motivation. Wordlessly taking the guide and his notebook before starting to quietly scribble down. 

It was about 10 minutes, Namjoon using that time to revise Jungkook’s notes and get accustomed with the subject again. But, fast as ever, Jungkook slides the resolved exercise. “Let’s see.” Namjoon mumbles adjusting his glasses, feeling the younger’s eyes glued to him, switching from Namjoon’s reaction to the unopened brownie box. “This one is good!” He chirps, but it’s nothing compared to the full body beam Jungkook gives him, reaching for the brownie 

The cycle repeats endlessly. Jungkook is a skilled diligent student, Namjoon isn’t entirely sure why the younger keeps inviting him over to study, almost never fully needing to ask questions. If there ever is a mistake, once Namjoon points it out, it is like something clicks in Jungkook’s mind. Entitle up to speed with the older. 

The brownie box is emptying quickly. And Namjoon feels entirely useless, yet he can’t find himself to say it outloud. Not when Jungkook is in front of him with crumbs all over his cheeks and chest, chocolate clinging to the corners of his lips. And the hand that isn’t writing down is under the table mysteriously. Or well… It hasn’t been a mystery since that time at the coffee shop. 

Another exercise done, Namjoon isn’t even done revising it before he catches a hand reach to the brownie box from the corner of his eyes. In a reflex the older reaches for it faster and brings it towards himself. “Ah ah ah, don’t get cocky. You don’t know if it’s correct or not.” He has a teasing smile, and Jungkook looks startled for a second, as if he had done it unconsciously, before smiling back. 

“I’m pretty sure it is, hyung.” As he says it his hand reaches for the box again. And Namjoon has to bring it further back; this time with the glint of competitiveness that the younger always inspires from him. 

“Not until I say so.” He’s finished reading, he knows it’s correct. But still, he holds the box away from Jungkook’s grasp, with a playful smile that the younger mimics. This isn’t about the exercise, not anymore. Jungkook tries to reach further from the table, leaning out of his chair. Just for Namjoon to react quicker than ever leaning back. From Jungkook’s angle, Namjoon can see the way the top of his belly is sinking into the edge of the table. Softer chest sagging barely against his shirt. 

He can see Jungkook beginning to prepare to lean closer. And when Namjoon stands up already grinning from ear to ear, ready to possibly be chased by the younger. 

And when Jungkook launches at him… He can’t. Namjoon’s smile fades a little, as he watches Jungkook try again. His own expression cracking into disbelief as he looks down at himself. Realization dawning on both of them slowly. 

Jungkook is stuck in the chair. 

The room feels death quiet, Jungkook clears his throat looking down at himself, hands gripping the armrests. Now that he is standing, Namjoon can see the way they’re digging into his fatty sides. And tries to push them down. Making his body ripple with each try. 

Namjoon feels a little petrified where he stands. Before pleading doe eyes look his way. “A little help?!” Jungkook whines, snapping the older from the trance he was in. 

“Fuck sorry.” Namjoon chuckles a bit nervously before rushing to him. “Come on, let’s get you out.” He mumbles getting behind Jungkook, fingers gripping into the legs of the chair and begin to tug backwards. 

“Yes!” Jungkook groans. With each tug his apron belly slap against his lap. “I really really want that brownie!” He throws his head back whining pathetically. As if everything in his body didn’t scream that he had one brownie box too many. 

Namjoon is grunting behind him, but it won’t budge. “Has this happened before?!” He can’t help his desperate tone. And Jungkook throws an insulted look over his shoulder. 

“No?! You think I would’ve sat here if I got stuck already!?” 

“I don’t, but it looks like this chair is three sizes small, Kook.” He chuckles a bit, slowly getting the chair off the curve of his plump love handles. Both of the younger’s hands are on the table, pushing his ass to Namjoon in an attempt to collaborate. 

“I’ve been studying in my room a lot!” Jungkook’s voice gets higher pitched as he whines. Making Namjoon more forceful until he stumbles back. Flimsy wooden chair in his hands as he frees Jungkook. 

“Ha!” He is a little breathless but victorious still. “Freedom.” Namjoon punches the air. Before noticing Jungkook’s silence. 

He is eating another brownie. Namjoon guesses, the one Jungkook thought was owed to him for getting that exercise right. But then he is grabbing another one while still munching on the previous brownie. And his other hand is grabbing another one after that. 

“What are those supposed to be for?” Namjoon crosses his arms with a teasing smile. 

“Emotional reparations.” 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Taehyung hates critique day. Which sucks. Because in an art major, every day is critique day. He knew what he was getting into, of course he knew. Taehyung just didn’t expect to feel so personally about his art. 

Though, he knows how to behave. Of course he doesn’t make a scene, and he takes all the critiques. But his frustrations end up manifesting elsewhere. 

It’s not even his turn, there’s another 10 people before him. But Taehyung’s thumb is already against his lips. Teeth anxiously nipping at his cuticles. He doesn’t think his art is beyond critiquing, of course not. That’s the whole reason he is majoring in art. But he pours so much of himself into each piece, vulnerable and grotesquely intimate. It’s so hard to expose in front of everyone, relating the quality of his art directly to his own value as a person. 

What if what he is saying is overdone? A cliche experience that everyone goes through and is not worthy of being represented through art. Or worse, what if it’s too much? Too personal and private to expose in a room full of strangers. What if these types of things should be left for the little epigraph under a painting for only the willing to read? Instead of stating it proudly as a defense for the homework you did in front of a bunch of strangers- 

A hand places gently on his wrists, warm. Cutting the middle of his rampant spiral. Taehyung still has his fingers grazing against his lips when he turns to see the hand owner, his upperclassman and TA, Seokjin. Who has a patient smile on his face that seems like he can read all of Taehyung’s thoughts. 

“If you’re gonna nip on anything, have this.” He whispers as to not call attention to them while the professor gives her critiques to another student. Taehyung’s hand is lowered gently and a candy bar is placed on it. His jaw drops, looking at it before looking up at Seokjin; who looks even smug about it. 

“Thanks.” Even if his response is short, the admiration and gratitude must show on his face, because the older has to stifle a laugh. Taehyung doesn’t waste another second ripping open the package and bringing it to his lips. 

Being able to press these anxieties onto the crunchy bar feels too relieving. The delicious nutty flavor is an amazing bonus. Taehyung can’t hold back from finishing it in only a few hurried bites. Relishing in the way his thoughts are taken over by the small snack, instead of his sprinting anxieties. And then he is pushing the last of it with his fingers, only realizing he hasn’t taken a single moment to enjoy the candy bar once he is gulping the last bite. And he isn’t even close to having to expose his artwork. 

Does he go back to panicking? It feels like he should- Correction, it feels like he is. 

Unconsciously, his hand is already reaching for his lips when Seokjin intercepts it again. Another candy bar in hand. Making Taehyung’s eyebrows fly to the roof. 

“I get cravings during the day, okay? Don’t look so judgy.” Seokjin defends himself whispering, but his smile gives away that he didn’t take it too personally. 

“I don’t wanna waste your stash, don’t you have some gum?” It’s the younger’s turn to hold in his giggles. 

His TA’s face scrunches up. “I don’t like mint.” 

“You are weird.” Taehyung says with a smile, hands already focusing on tearing the wrapper apart. Seokjin is rolling his eyes, while the younger is stifling his giggle with the first bite. He wordlessly passes Taehyung his backpack so lay by the student’s side where he is sat. Opened already and showing the plethora of candy bars and different snacks stashed in there. 

How is this man so fit?! Taehyung rather brings the backpack closer to his side with his leg, as he’s already working through the second candy bar. He really tried to space it out and enjoy it a bit. But he still finished it in the span of only one student getting their critique. Only throwing a pleading glance at Seokjin, whose eyes are already on Taehyung with a patient nod, he is reaching deep in the bag for another one. Without looking into the bag, it really does feel like he has the entire thing full to the brim. 

He pulls another one out, this time not so worried in making sure he makes it last throughout the like, 8 other people who have critiques before Taehyung. And he doesn’t. But his hand is already reaching for the bag without a second thought. He is sure Seokjin will be fine without 3 or 4 of his bars. The supply feels so endless he doesn’t even keep track. 

Letting the candy bar wrappers pile around him, it doesn’t take long before a warm feeling starts to set on the bottom of his stomach. Blood circulation his stomach as it digests all that chocolate, peanut butter, and whatever else they put on them. It’s making him sleepy, but Taehyung welcomes the feeling with open arms, sedating him from all his anxieties. Mind too lethargic to worry, and hands too busy on the slight bloat of his tummy to reach for his teeth to nip at them. Taehyung doesn’t even notice when his time for the critique comes, catching him half way through a snickers bar. That he brushes to his lap, along with all the other wrappers that piled on his desk around his art piece. 

The warmth emanating from his stomach is enough to even make him feel more soothed as he explains his piece. Something Taehyung had been struggling with since he got his first critique, and he realizes he can’t in fact be perfect at something from the get go; like he had unconsciously hoped for. Not this time though, he has a calm tone as he explains the inner workings and reasonings behind his assignment. And he doesn’t know if it’s that, or if this piece is particularly good, or if his lethargic mind is playing tricks on his perception of the world, but the critiques don’t seem as bad as they usually are. 

The rest of the class passes by in a blurr. And he has Seokjin to thank for it. 

And he does! Walking up to the TA once everyone starts walking out. 

“Sorry about almost emptying your bag.” He smiles shyly. “But I really never felt that relaxed during a critique, ever.” 

“Don’t mention it, I know it took me ages to get used to it.” His smile is patient as ever, Taehyung is beginning to wonder if it was this charming from the beginning of the semester. 

“And what did you do then?” If he is tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, it’s nobody’s business. 

“I was bringing entire boxes worth of snacks.” Seokjin giggles. “Really took my freshman 15 to a whole new level.” 

If Taehyung lets his eyes go up and down Seokjin’s body with a smile, then maybe it’s a little bit of his TA’s business. “Doesn’t look like you have them on you right now.” 

Seokjin smiles with a bit more confidence. Taehyung has never prided himself in his subtlety. “I told you I got used to the critiques, didn’t I?” If the older takes a step closer, Taehyung’s heart has no business pitter pattering this way. “Now I just keep a stash in case anyone is getting a little panicky.” Taehyung is about to object, but Seokjin anticipates it. “Happens more often than you think!” 

“Sure it does.” His arms are folding over his chest, but it’s not as defensive as it is flirty. Seokjin seems to notice. 

“You can just say thank you.” The fact his tone gets even cockier should not be as attractive as Taehyung is making it out to be. 

“If it manages to calm my nerves consistently. Then you’ll get your thank you.” It feels like they’re standing much closer than when Taehyung first walked up to him to thank the TA. But he is leaving with a lot more. 

“Keep me updated then.” Seokjin smiles unfaced. 

“I will.” 

And Taehyung leaves that class with an entirely different feeling of nerves than the one he walked in with; much giddier too. Though, airhead at heart, he notices he forgot to ask Seokjin for his number; and Taehyung definitely won’t be flirting through their school emails, and finding his social media and dming him is out of the question. Taeyung has some dignity left, thank you very much. 

Instead, he limits himself to keep Seokjin’s memory alive in his mind every time he has a class where he has to present some of his artwork. Stocking up on a bagful of snacks for him to work his way through until he gets his critique. Mostly figuring out what’s the right amount, since that first time he only ever started snacking about 2/3rds of the the class in, so naturally Taehyung has more time to fill if he is starting to eat from the get go. But also, he can’t get too full too early! Because then the feeling could possibly wash off in the span of his 4 hour courses. 

Though the most exciting part of his week was trying out what he enjoyed snacking on the most. What offered that warm hazy sensation that Taehyung was seeking, what settled best on his tummy, and what was most appropriate for class. He is not making the same mistake of bringing some chips and spicy sauce to class; not only making a lot of noise, but having the spice make his stomach gurgle and churn as he held back from farting in class. 

After extensive research, Taehyung found out that sweets were the best option. Fluffy and noiseless, and perfectly filling. Instead of cramping to fit them into his bag, Taehyung proudly walks into class with a bakery box that sits on his lap. They’re bigger and more filling than candy bars, just (if not more) as delicious. And Taehyung plops it open as soon as the first student begins to expose. He is able to make them last the entire class, chewing unhurried but constantly throughout. Taehyung’s always had an appetite, but he always brings enough to end up with both hands under his desk on his bloated tummy, and a fuzzy feeling of fullness. 

It’s only been two weeks, but Taehyung really does feel like he owes Seokjin a thank you. He thinks to himself as he walks into the classroom where Seokjin assists. The younger considered talking to him after class, but he finds the TA’s eyes on him… Probably due to the bakery box he brings with him into the classroom. Taehyung quite frankly, had already naturalized the snacks he has been bringing with him to most classes. Completely forgetting that Seokjin only comes to help out once every two weeks. 

“I take it you’re trying out my advice?” Seokjin catches him as Taehyung walks to his usual desk. 

“Trying it? I’ve already adopted it.” He sits down and smiles up at Seokjin. “I haven’t been this relaxed ever since I got into art.” Taehyung leans back into his chair, smug, before beaming. “And look at this!” His hand wiggles his fingers daintily in front of Soekjin’s face, his eyes crossing a bit to get a better look at the sight. 

With perfectly healthy cuticles. 

He gently takes Taehyung’s hand into his. Thumb rubbing up and down his middle finger; making the younger’s insides churn. “Wow… Look at you.” His tone is a little teasing, but his smile is endeared. Though, Taehyung can only focus on the world around him again, once the TA has let his hand go. “What’s on today’s menu?” 

“Cinnamon rolls, some red velvet slices…” He purses his lips. And shies a bit when he sees Seokjin’s eyebrows reach his hairline. “And–and just a few more things. Can’t remember.” 

“Certainly a lot more than those 5 snicker bars you ate last time.” This time there isn’t much endearment in Seokjin’s smile. Taehyung widens. 

It was only 5?!  He had felt so overwhelmingly full back then… 

Now it wouldn’t come close to doing the job. 

“I always had an appetite.” He shrugs with pouty lips. “I was just guilty of eating too much of your stash.” Taehyung excuses himself with arms crossed over his chest. 

“I’m glad you’re bringing your own then.” Seokjin chuckles, making Taehyung worry if he even believes the younger’s excuse. “This is definitely more than all of my stash.” He eyes the big bakery box on Taehyung’s desk, and looks up with a smile that doesn’t say the full truth; the younger’s cheeks burn a little warmer. 

But he doesn’t get to say the last word, the professor is calling Seokjin over; who only offers a wide grin before ushering to her desk. 

This interaction definitely echoes in Taehyung’s mind, only silenced with the first few bites of the cinnamon roll. But not entirely, since flashes of Seokjin’s teasing smile as he eyed Taehyung’s portion size creeps on him. Catching him mid-bite, with his lips stretched, buttercream coating his lips and red velvet crumbs already beginning to fall onto his lap. His cheeks blushed everytime. All that nonchalance he had these two weeks, acquiring this habit, unbothered by the weird stares, suddenly shifted into self awareness when Taehyung sensed the TA’s eyes on him. 

Taehyung didn’t dare look to check; he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he actually caught Seokjin staring at him making a pig out of himself in class. Maybe he was just deluding himself and the older was nowhere near paying him attention. Why would he be? They barely know each other. 

All this just represented more thoughts for Taehyung to have to silence with food. Or at least try to. Determined to silence his feelings of sudden awkwardness, like he had managed all those classes before this one; where he ate without a care. And besides, if anyone would be nonjudgmental of this… coping mechanism, it should be Seokjin out of all people, shouldn’t it? He advised Taehyung to do it after all. 

A thought in the back of his mind wonders if maybe it isn’t judgment that Seokjin is showing. But Taehyung decides to bury that thought with another one of the cinnamon rolls, taking an obscene bite of it. Guiding his thoughts to the warmth stretching his stomach, not taut yet but getting there. Pressing against his shirt with a slight curve. Already making him blissed and a little sleepy. 

And he still has so much more food to go. 

Perfect. 

With newfound determination, and a mind determined to not think for the rest of the class, Taehyung loses himself to the food before him. Not only the sound of his professor giving critiques, but the sight from the corner of his eye of Seokjin (possibly) watching him, all fade away. As Taeyung focuses on looking down at his bakery box, focusing on his own hands as they reach more fervently for the food, feeling how the icing and buttercream make his throat feel thick and his entire body tingle as all the blood goes to his distending stomach. One hand goes idly to caress the growing curve, feels like with every heavy gulp, it expands against his fingers. Though it doesn’t feel unbearable like it used to be. 

He brought enough food that when it’s time for his critiques, Taehyung hasn’t even finished. But he still ate enough for that comfortable warmth to ease his nerves. It goes by smoothly, like it has for the past few weeks. And he has left overs! Taehyung could probably take these back to his apartment, he is sure Jungkook will appreciate the extra study snacks. 

Yet as soon as his professor is done talking to him, his hand is reaching for another slice of cake. Even when he has no reason to be nervous anymore, no anxiety rattling his bones; it’s like his hands reach for the food all on their own. He doesn’t even question it, let alone try to stop himself. But in the back of his mind, Taehyung is beginning to realize, he’s trained his body to do this. To eat without conscience, to eat to lose conscience. 

Which isn’t really all that good. But then again… Being this full does feel really nice. Especially when these last baked goods are all he needs to fully push to the edge of comfortably full to stuffed to brim. The thought on the back of his mind isn’t enough to stop the automated path of his hand, as it grips the velvety piece of cake. It doesn’t matter if it’s not as enjoyable as it settles in his rounding stomach. The taste is amazing. 

Fuck Jungkook, he has enough snacks already. That waistline speaks for itself. 

Taehyung has to force that last bite down with his index finger, chewing lethargic and slowly; a little painful. His stomach gurgling under his desk in complaint, as if to convince Taehyung to not swallow. He does, obviously. The only thing more embarrassing than eating like a hog in front of everyone, would be spitting something out. He gulps it down and has a burp stretching his cheeks almost immediately after. Having to cup his swollen stomach when it vibrates and gurgles whining. 

Ow. 

He might have overdone it. His eyelids feel heavy and it feels like all those sweets are taking space his lungs need; making his breathing heavier and his body warm all over. 

As if on cue, the class is dismissed! Perfect timing, Taehyung is ready to get these pants off and take a fat nap. Already tidying up his desk from all the little disposable plates and trays, he has good student etiquette thank you very much. Ignoring the weird stares from fellow students that walk past his desk. If they haven’t gotten used to this in the last two weeks, it’s out of Taehyung’s hands. 

When it’s time to get up. His stomach churns painfully, cramping and complaining to the point Taehyung plops back into his chair. A little ‘ouf’ leaving his lips; as if he hadn’t already been breathless before attempting to stand. It takes a second try, and a second failure for Taehyung to realize… he might need a little help. 

This time around, he does feel like the side-eyes he is getting from his classmates are somewhat deserved. He overdid it. Most definitely. Taehyung has never been this full, belly expanding with each shallow breath; agitated from trying to stand and pinned by his taut belly. Full enough it stretches his poor shirt; he’s always had a bit of padding around his tummy, and it barely shows from how tight his stomach is rounding out. Only able to feel that chub when he massages his gurgling stomach; but it looks hard enough to be a baby bump. 

In a meek, breathless attempt, Taehyung tries again. Only to fall back in his chair. Desperation beginning to tie his overstuffed stomach in a knot, not only are his classmates leaving; but the people from the class after theirs are entering. His head turning for any familiar face he could ask for assistance. 

The only one he finds is the one Taehyung is most embarrassed to call for help. But he doesn’t have much of a choice, does he? 

“Seokjinssi?” The TA was picking up some notes, his back to Taehyung, thankfully. There’s at least some hope that he didn’t see Taehyung’s pathetic attempts to get up. 

“What is it?” He comes closer slinging his backpack on and getting a proper look at Taehyung’s situation. Bloated belly, pushing at the waistband of his pants and shirt, holding onto the desk for momentum. Seokjin’s entertained smile makes him want to shrink away. 

“Could you…” Taehyung is not gonna look at his face when asking, instead looking at the mess he turned himself into. All of that flirty energy he had felt for Seokjin when he first helped the younger out, was gone. Replaced with mortifying embarrassment. “Uh… I kind of overdid it. I need a little help.” He says instead, avoiding Seokjin’s reaction. 

A hand comes into his line of vision.

Phew. 

Taehyung takes it and lets Seokjin tug him up. Amazed by the soft grunt that slips from the back of his throat; feeling his swollen stomach try and pin him in place. But that’s not nearly as embarrassing as the way he accidentally leans closer than he should to Seokjin’s torso. The hand that isn’t holding Taehyung’s holding him by his waist; hand big enough to brush the side of his bloat.

He is mortified, and Seokjin’s little smile does nothing to help the feeling. 

“You okay?” The way even the TA’s charming expression has his eyebrows slightly raised and his eyes a little widened. Even he wasn’t ready for Taehyung’s display of gluttony. 

“Y–yeah… Yeah, thanks.” Taehyung forces himself to smile. But what’s even harder is separating from the firmness of Seokjin’s torso. Brushing the crumbs that collected across his chest. “That’s a first for me.” He feels the need to comment. 

“Eating so much you can’t get up?” Seokjin chuckles. “Yeah, you’re the first time I see it too.” His tone is friendly, but Taehyung can still feel his cheeks burning red. Only worsened by the up and down glance Seokjin gives of his body. 

“You should meet my roommates.” Taehyung tells a joke only for himself to laugh at. Ready to wash off all the embarrassment he accumulated in this class. “See you around, Seokjinssi.” He scrambles to grab his stuff and nod off. Weighting if this much humiliation is worth being able to handle the critiques. 

Taehyung doesn’t really decide. Not really. Because the next day comes, Taehyung doesn’t even have a critiquing that day, but his feet still drag him to the bakery close to campus. Staff already familiar with his face and gave him the freshest donuts of the batch. In the back of his mind, he does question himself again. If it really is the best for him to be eating beyond his capability to stand up. 

But he got the donuts already. And even if he won’t be getting critiques today, it’s still nice to have a snack while he paints. It’s just once more. 

Except it isn’t, Taehyung finds himself facing the fact he underestimated how much of a habit he had made of Seokjin’s little advice. Part of him started feeling guilty to not go to the bakery, feeling like all the staff was expecting him there. And the very few scattered days that Taehyung didn’t go, his worries were confirmed when the caring lovely staff asked about what happened. Besides, whenever he skipped, his stomach would grumble so much he would eventually end up dragging his feet to the college dining hall and buying anything he can get his eyes on. 

Seokjin doesn’t bring it up again, but he does continue walking over to Taehyung’s desk to chat. Never able to be subtle in the way he always glances down at the younger’s desk; as if to check if he had brought any food this time. And Taehyung always had. 

Luckily though, he never has to ask Seokjin for help getting up in what’s left of the semester. The more used he got to eating these huge quantities of sweets, the easier his stomach stretched and adapted to the heft of Taehyung’s snacks. But, simultaneously, made him harder and harder to satisfy. 

It got to the point where there wasn’t enough food he could physically bring to his class for it to be enough to make him feel as full as he used to be at the beginning of the semester. He keeps his portions similar to the ones he had when he first started bringing food to class, only to stuff himself with anything he could; whether it meant another stop to the bakery, a demolition of the lunch menu at the dining hall, or cleaning whatever his roommates had stashed the fridge with. Though that last option got him a scolding most of the time. 

In the back of his mind, he knows. Taehyung is overdoing it. Ending his school day stuffed to the brim and waddling home; even on the days he has sculpting class, and his hands are in no condition to be touching food. Let alone classes where his hands are in full capacity to eat, a professor’s critique not needed for his body to crave that hazy drowsy sensation of being full. 

And it’s beginning to show. He knows it. Taehyung can feel it in the way his clothes begin to fill out. Waistbands sinking into his middle when he sits down, and then even when he is standing up. His inner thighs rubbing together when he walks, covering all of the chair when he sits. The front of his tummy always pressing against his shirts, which have only gotten tighter with the course of the semester. Then, it’s not just his stomach pressing against the fabric, but his chest too. Small but puffy mounds of fat, with softened and overly sensitive nipples. Then his sleeves start feeling a little fuller as well. 

And if Taehyung gets another comment from his roommates about how chubby and round his face has gotten, he will throw another paintbrush at them. 

But it’s fine.

The semester will end, and without the routine of his classes, the routine of his snacking shall also stop. 

Taehyung has it under control. 

Even if he was determined to not need a change of clothes until the end of the semester. Yet here he is, rummaging through Jungkook and Jimin’s laundry for anything oversized. 

Whatever, it’s not a change of clothes. Jimin and Jungkook steal his clothes for fancy events all the time. Or… they used to. Taehyung doubts they fit them now. 

He finds one of Jungkook’s sweatpants and he rather not ponder on how they’re not an oversized fit. He leaves for uni decidedly. Today he has a live painting session, his favorite. He arrives there early even! Ready to pick his favorite spot in the circle of canvases, and display all his paints and–

Seokjin is there. 

“You don’t take this course.” He states a bit bluntly. Excuse him, but Taehyung has to mentally prepare himself to engage with Seokjin, and have him smiling all charming at him. 

“I don’t.” Luckily, the older only seems endeared by Taehyung’s straight forward greeting. “Ms.Lee called in sick, I’m covering for her.”

“Are TAs allowed to do that?” He can’t help scrunching his face. And it downright earns a bit of laughter from Seokjin, smile only growing. 

“It’s just a live painting session, Tae.” Endearment rolls off his tongue. “Take a seat.” Seokjin’s shit eating smile shouldn’t be as endearing as it is. But that’s an existential question Taehyung had to give up ages ago. 

“You’re not the boss of me.” He scoffs, but does in fact walk to his preferred canvas. Just because he wants to. Not because Seokjin instructed him. Setting his bag and walking to the line of aprons hung up at the back of the class. 

He doesn’t think twice before grabbing one, putting his head through it and beginning to tie it as he walks back to his spot. But… as he feels his belly press against the cloth, rolls on his waist shifting with each step, Taehyung feels the straps sink a little into the folds that stack on his sides. A sensation he’s gotten used to.

However, he can’t seem to be making the two ends of the straps meet… 

Not even close. 

Stopping in his tracks, he focuses on sucking in. And feels his stomach retract the slightest bit, he pushes the straps. The two edges barely grazing each other, not nearly enough give for him to tie a knot. And panic starts to set in. 

Yeah, he hasn’t had a live painting session in a while. But it hasn’t been that long, has it? 

And he hasn’t gotten that fat in said short amount of time, has he? 

He turns his back to the rack of aprons, almost resentfully. There has to be a bigger one, isn’t there? No, Taehyung is in Korea. Where he was a size large even before this… gain. 

“What’s the matter?” Seokjin asks, but his voice sounds more knowing than what Taehyung feels comfortable with. And his voice is closer than he was prepared for. 

Almost automatically, he takes the apron off his head, holding it defensively to his chest. Acutely aware of the way his hands sink into the new padding that rounds his pecs. “Nothing.” 

Seokjin’s smile only widens at that. “Nothing.” He repeats, comedically unconvinced. Though he is looking at Taehyung with endearment, helpful almost. 

“Yes.” But Taehyung is too prideful.

“Okay…” The older doesn’t argue. “That’s a really nice shirt, would be a shame to spill oil paint on it.” 

“I won’t.” He purses his lips, shrugging bratty. “I was about to put it on.” Taehyung’s thick-headedness gets the best of him though, and he can feel it bite him in the ass when Seokjin crosses his arms and leans against the wall; expectant. 

“Go on then.” 

“With what?”

“Put it on. I’m gonna start the class on time, so…” Taehyung doesn’t check the clock to know if the clash should actually start soon or not. Not willing to show that he has anything to worry about. At least he knows they’re still the only two here, if the way Soekjin is acting is anything to go by. Taehyung knows by now that as confident as he likes to act, the TA would die of embarrassment to be caught flirting like this. 

Does this count as flirting? It feels like he is just tormenting Taehyung. 

“Whatever…” He mumbles, putting it over his head again. But not bothering to tie it behind him. “There. Happy?”

“You’re so stubborn, did anybody tell you that?” Seokjin’s tone is too soft to be taken seriously. 

“Endlessly.” 

“Do you want some help?” 

“No.” 

“Do you need help?” He rephases much to Taehyung’s dismay. 

“…Maybe.” His surrender is worth it for the cackle Seokjin lets out as he walks behind Taehyung. “B-but I doubt you can do anything.” He grumbles as he feels Seokjin’s knuckles brush against his fatty sides as he takes a hold of the straps. The rolls that won’t leave no matter how much he sucks in. 

“Let me try…” He can practically hear Seokjin’s concentrated frown as he brings the straps behind the younger; Taehyung can feel them sink into his folds once more. There’s a beat of silence, where Seokjin doesn’t move the straps and seems to be calculating his options. Taehyung doesn’t want to wonder what the view must be like for him from behind. Finally, he instructs. “Suck in.” 

“Tsk, you think I didn’t try that already?” He responds a little defensively. 

“Just do it!” Seokjin’s voice is close to a whine. And Taehyung ‘eughs’ but compiles. Taking in a deep breath and forcing his pudgy belly inwards.

There’s another beat of silence, before Seokjin talks again. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it?” Taehyung can’t help his voice sounds a little breathless, still holding in. The end of his sentence cut short as a tug of the straps coaxes the air out of him. Straps not only sinking further into his rolls, but the front of the apron beginning to fold into itself too, riding up the curve of his belly just a little.

“Suck in more!” 

“I can’t- OUF!” The sudden tug cinches, or at least tries to cinch, at Taehyung’s middle. Fat overspilling from over the straps in a poor attempt to resist the restrictions of the apron. 

“Yeah, we are gonna need some extra fabric for these straps.” 

“You didn’t need to choke me to know that.” Taehyung is still catching his breath. And once he stops sucking in, he can feel all of Seokjin’s efforts come undone as the straps go back to reaching the far back of his side rolls. 

“I wouldn’t need to help you at all if your apron fit.” Seokjin retorts, giving a light squeeze to one of Taehyung’s thick love handles before moving to the front desk in the classroom. Just in time to avoid the indignant turn Taehyugn does to face him. 

“It’s your fault I don’t fit into the apron.” Or any of my clothes, for that matter. He holds back from saying. Seokjin has his back to him as he rummages through the drawers of a desk that most definitely isn’t the TA’s. 

“What did I do?” There’s a chuckle attached at the end of his question. That makes Taehyung believe Seokjin knows exactly what he did. “Aha!” He doesn’t let the younger answer, as he pulls out… A string. 

Walking victorious towards Taehyung, this time with a charming smile, he instructs again. “Turn around.” He complies, too curious to question the older’s strategy. Taehyung turns around and lifts his arms a bit. 

He can feel Seokjin take one of the straps once more. And in the comfortable silence with a very concentrated tone he asks. “Where were we?”

“I was gonna tell you how you are responsible for my apron not fitting.” He deadpans. 

“Ah yes… Blasphemy.” Seokjin giggles behind him. Now he is grabbing the other strap. 

“It’s not! Your trick for critique-anxiety worked too well.” The younger hopes his pout is coming through his voice for Seokjin to hear. “I’m surprised you aren’t struggling to put in your aprons either.” 

“I used that trick maybe one or twice for my final exams. Not… every single critique I was ever given.”

“It’s not my fault I get more anxious than you.”

“Was critique-anxiety the one making you eat during your normal classes too? I’m surprised you didn’t bring any snacks to this one. I feel robbed.” 

“How did you know I was eating in other classes?” 

“You have a bit of a reputation by now, Tae.” The endearment is ever present in Seokjin’s voice. “There!” He stands up straight finally, giving Taehyung’s peaking love handles, exposed by all the cinching and tugging of his shirt, one last celebratory pat. Making them giggle right above the slightly tight waistband of Jungkook’s joggers. “Your apron now fits. You are very very welcome.” 

“Thanks…” Taehyung tries to twist and get a proper look at Seokjin’s contraption, the extra yarn sinking a little into the padding that now covers his back. “And what do you mean I have a reputation?” He snaps up to look Seokjin in the eyes. A little sense of dread coiling at his stomach. 

Or that might just be the apron restricting his belly. 

“Don’t look at me like it’s news to you. Do you think people weren’t gonna notice the guy walking in with a picnic’s worth of food into every class? Even professors know who you are.”  His face is starting to burn and even if he was the one to daringly try and lock eyes with Seokjin to get an answer from him, Taehyung isn’t quite liking what he is hearing. 

So… to make his case even worse, he eyes the clock. Still 15 minutes till class starts, he has time. “I’ll go buy some breakfast.” He states pouty, feeling heat flare at his cheeks. 

“That definitely will help the apron.” Seokjin’s comment is already far behind, because Taehyung is fleeing this humiliating scene with quick steps. He doesn’t turn around to respond, his face burns too much for him to do so. 

He won’t buy much, he tells himself. Just keep himself out of class long enough for other students to arrive. So Seokjin stops making him blush. 

The cafeteria is always a welcoming sight, the staff already knowing his face, much like in that bakery that he still very much goes to on a daily basis. Putting a polite smile for the staff as he begins buying anything he can get his hands on. Once he starts it’s so easy to just keep piling his plate. Getting his money’s worth on that student meal plan. But it’s so hard to stop. 

Only once Taehyung can’t physically fit more into his plate does he realize he overdid it. He glances at the wall clock again. Ten minutes. 

Taehyung can definitely manage to eat all this before class. 

With a decided nod he takes his plate to one of the empty tables, still a bit before most students start to get lunch. And Taehyung will definitely be there with everyone else a second time too, even if his meal plan doesn’t cover it. He knows his hunger won’t let him skip a meal, no matter how much he ate before. 

He feels like such a pig. Out of control and eating to avoid the nerves and the confrontation that Seokjin seems so comfortable bringing to his class. Forcing Taehyung to acknowledge just how fat he got. 

And that maybe it’s not entirely Seokjin’s fault either. 

Taehyung shovels that thought right to the back of his mind where it belongs with a bite of his food. He wasn’t entirely aware of what he had gotten either. It was a nice surprise when sweet cinnamon batter took over his lips. Sweet, of course he got sweet. The taste so addictive and soothing to his body, he can’t help his other hand reach for something else to bring to his lips, a cookie. Taehyung can pretty much feel the clock ticking, interchangeably taking bites of the two baked goods, looking like a ravenous animal in front of the few people scattered across the cafeteria. 

10 minutes, he reminds himself, forcing to stretch his lips with bigger bites, mixing the sweets as he goes. Not caring if the tastes don’t fit or blur together. All Taehyung wants is for the comforting ballooned feeling to take over him.

The one that gets him to forget about critiques.

About Seokjin’s charming smile.

About how he managed to get so fat in the course of the semester. Ironically. 

He is starting to feel it. Bloat beginning to make his shirt ride up a little bit at his side. 

No, not his shirt. 

Jungkook’s oversized shirt. 

The stretch of his stomach making his belly, that now was covered in a thick layer of chub no matter the size of the bloat, press harder against the poor apron. Taehyung can feel the way the extra lace Seokjin used to tie the knot, sinks into the fat padding that covers his lower back. 

5 minutes, he glances at the clock. And he still has nearly half of his serving left. Maybe he underestimated himself. 

Maybe, Taehyung isn’t as much of a pig as Seokjin’s eyes make him out to be. 

He leans closer to the plate in an attempt to make the food pass the stretch of his opened lips faster. But he feels something snap behind him, and a sudden pressure release from his swollen abdomen. 

The straps of his apron broke. 

That gets him to stop eating. Staring at the plate blankly. Refusing to get a proper look at himself. 

Taehyung definitely won’t be attending class. 

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Jimin can’t see another video of “music majors when they remember they need listen to a song due at midnight”. The ones Jungkook doesn’t get tired of sending him. Excuse you, Jimin spends more time in his home-made studio than Jungkook does in his silly little labs. No, he doesn’t have a song-listening due at midnight. Jimin has to finish the rough demos of a soundtrack by the end of the week. Not quite the same, no. 

These thoughts keep running through his mind as Jimin leans inches away from his monitor, FL Studio open as his own raw creation blasts through his overly expensive (maybe a little pretentious) headphones. He heard Jungkook and Taehyung come in at some point in the night, he is sure they’ve taken care of dinner. Lately this apartment has started to ditch the “skipping meals” plan that most broke students seemed to adopt. But Jimin always has a hard time remembering to take breaks when he has projects like his one plaguing his mind. 

It’s 2 am already. He can wait until he has this one song finished before forcing himself to the kitchen. The weight of this project already lulling his senses and numbing him to such trivial things like eating and “drinking something that doesn’t have caffeine”. Jimin is way beyond the line of feeling uncomfortable, having pulled several late nights of work, letting Taehyung’s snoring guide the beat of his songs. Rolling around to class the next morning looking worse than in his prima-ballerina days. Jimin works nearly in autopilot as he adds layers of texture to the song, he doesn’t care if it’s shit. He just wants it to be finished. 

Done. 

And it’s only… 3:45am.

Fuck. 

He needs to eat something and go to bed. 

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the complete masacre of what used to be “dinner”. Absolutely nothing, the hogs of his roommates left him nothing. 

Jimin thought he had it under control. The stress, his emotions, the hunger. But his eyes begin to water against him. He doesn’t have anything to eat! And he has been looking forward to it for hours! And he is sure his roommates didn’t mean to but his bottom lip is wobbling against his will and he has to cup his lips before he dejectedly walks back to his room. Sniffs heard throughout the room. 

In an attempt to distract himself, he downloads the file and sends it to Yoongi. Rubbing his eyes and leaning on his chair, his entire body catching up with him, pain swelling on his lower back and his knees as he tries to stretch.

And as if to make matters worse, his stomach complains with a roar. 

He can’t help it, his face is scrunching up and sniffles are making his body spasm gently and his shoulders tense with each shaky intake of air. Before he can stop it, his hands are covering his face, where he feels himself begin to cry. 

Ping!

The notification noise anticlimactically cuts him off. Hands leaving his face to peak at his phone. 

yoongi hyung: what are you doing up 

you: what are YOU doing up?!

yoongi hyung: i asked first. 

you: was finishing the thing i sent you

you: and crying

Jimin is one to try and find humor in his everyday misery, but he does feel a little guilt when he sees Yoongi take a bit longer to reply. 

yoongi hyung: why were you crying?

It’s his time to ponder his answer. And, deciding he doesn’t want to get a lecture about his time management skills and Jimin’s incredible ability to neglect his basic needs, he chooses something that’s still very much true. 

you: tae and kook didn’t save me any food (｡•́︿•̀｡)

His response is immediate then. 

yoongi hyung: wanna come over? 

yoongi hyung: I also need your opinion on something. 

Tsk.

yoongi hyung: and i got food

Sold. 

you: be there in a bit!

Jimin tries to be quiet. But also, when he worries about possibly waking up his roommates, he quickly realizes he doesn’t care. 

Serves them right. Hmf. 

He texts Yoongi when he is outside, really not waiting to wake Hoseok up. He doesn’t deserve it. But to his surprise it’s him who opens the door for the younger. 

“Oh. Hobi hyung.” Jimin pouts a little worried. And the older beats him to it. 

“If you’re going to apologize, don’t. I was awake too.” His smile is gentle, but his hair is a little messy and his face is a little puffed up.

Either Hoseok is lying and Yoongi and him totally woke him up. Or the couple was having a fun night and Jimin interrupted. 

He doesn’t know which one makes him feel worse. 

“Still, thanks.” Jimin’s smile is a little guilty but some of his worry smelt away when he hugs Hoseok tight. A little bit of that uncomfortable tension on his body leaving with the lithe (but strong) man squeezes at his sides. 

“Yoongi is in the kitchen. Only you can get him to start cooking at 4am.” 

“He told me he had food already!” Jimin whines as he walks in.

“Well…He lied. I offered to grab something from a convenience store. But you know Yoongi wouldn’t let you have that.” The chuckle attached at the end of his sentence screams endearment. Jimin follows behind him into the couple’s apartment like his second home. Which it practically is. 

Yoongi and Hoseok were both the ones to first introduce him to music in highschool. And Jimin was the witness of the very beginnings of the most obnoxiously romantic couple he knows. A delicious smell already takes over the cozy apartment. “Hyung, you’re cooking for me?” He smiles teasing when they make their way to the kitchen. Loving to tease whenever Yoongi shows his tender side; the one that always comes when Jimin needs it most. 

“And I might throw it all out if you don’t shut it.” He pouts and Jimin only giggles, launching forward for a back hug to the other. His cheek pressing to his shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t.” He says with certainty, and a shit-eating smile. “You love me.” Jimin doesn’t care if Yoongi doesn’t answer, all he needs is a quick peek at what the older is cooking. Kimchi jjigae, Jimin’s personal favorite. 

“Go go to the studio.” He tries to shimmy Jimin off. “Babee.” The youngest feels particularly accomplished when he gets Yoongi to whine for his partner. Hoseok chuckles behind them both, taking Jimin’s hand gently. 

“Come on, we can set up in the office.” Jimin doesn’t need much convincing. Easy to manhandle around as Hoseok drops his arm over the youngest’s shoulders. He can’t help it, being in both of their presence is so soothing. That and the all nighter (or week of consecutive all nighters) is catching up to him.

He comes here so often, the little room turned into a studio not only has two chairs for the producer couple, but a third one for Jimin’s frequent visits. Well… He visited a lot more often before this hellish semester. But it still feels like home when he tiredly plops down smiling at Hoseok. 

“I missed you.” He says simply, getting Hoseok’s expression to soften as he sits beside him. “Sorry for crashing your sex.” And his sleepy state immediately ruins it; judging by the choked sound Hoseok lets out.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says instead of denying it. In his sleepy state, Jimin’s mind unhelpfully provides him with mental images. 

Not that he’s thought about this before. Or anything. 

Yoongi thankfully interrupts his brain, kimchi jjigae bowl in his hand. “You said you sent me something to listen to?” He takes a seat at Jimin’s other side. Who can’t answer because he is already shoveling a mouthful of stew into his cheeks. He only nods. “Let’s give it a listen then.” 

The youngest gulps suddenly then. “R-right now?” He can’t help the nerves. Hoseok is right here, he only shows Hoseok his finished pieces and this was just a rough demo. His eyes darted to both of his sides, suddenly self conscious. Jimin doesn’t know if he can handle the exposure right now. 

But he doesn’t exactly know how to tell that to his two hyungs. Because that would just mean he has something to be self conscious about. And yes, Jimin has endlessly heard both Hoseok and Yoongi tell him that demos don’t have to be perfect. Jimin just chooses to not apply that to himself. 

“S-sure, sure, let’s play it.” Jimin corrects himself. Not very smoothly. But after an exchange of looks between Yoongi and Hoseok, they decide to give into it anyway. 

“Fine. But we aren’t giving feedback until tomorrow.” Hoseok states opening the file on Yoongi’s computer. 

“What? Why?” He pouts.

“Because if you knew you could fix something you wouldn’t sleep at all.” There’s an endeared chuckle attached to the end of his sentence, and a big warm hand massaging the base of Jimin’s neck. But even that is not enough to soothe the sudden knot that tied into his stomach. 

Feeling the dread as the file downloads, and Hoseok starts opening the producing software that’s much better than his; Jimin busies himself with the first thing he finds. And that’s the delicious homemade dinner Yoongi made him. Leaning back on the chair, his knees up to his chest and the bowl close to his face as he begins to scarf down the delicious homemade stew. It takes over his senses, warmth trickling down his throat and setting perfectly on his stomach. 

Jimin would much rather focus on that. Especially motivated as the first chords of his demo start to play in the expensive speaker system. He buries the first beginnings of stomach-twisting cringe with warm spicy goodness. Lulling his senses and soothing his heart rate. Almost warming along the knots of his back and relaxing them at least somewhat. The speakers are too loud though, pulling Jimin back to the stress of this assignment. The endless work, endless stress. The endless idea in the back of his mind that he has his two idols to live up to. 

It only encourages him to tilt the bowl a little upwards and begin to focus into slurping it down. Not caring if all the broth begins to settle a little uncomfortable in his stomach. He welcomes the feeling, it drowns out everything else. The breathing through his nose echoing in the actually quite big ceramic bowl. The warmth of the food making its way down and curling at his belly in a way that makes his head feel fuzzy and nice. The demo becomes background white noise as his thick gulps become louder and rhythmic, easy to get lost in. 

He is gasping for air the moment the song plays its last chords. He completely spared himself from the experience, he realized gleefully. But immediately after, realizes Jimin ate all that food in the 4 minutes the song lasted. Or well… He doesn’t realize, per se, his stomach makes a very painful statement; accompanied with a loud embarrassing rumble. Loud enough that makes both Hoseok and Yoongi turn their heads to him for the first time in the night.

At least Jimin hopes so, he wouldn’t want to seem like a pig in front of them. 

“You finished it?” Hoseok is the one to ask, shock clear in his voice. 

“He hasn’t eaten a thing in who knows how long, leave him alone.” Yoongi hushes him with a pout, before turning to Jimin; who is having to concentrate on his breathing. “Want some dessert with that?” 

Even turning his head to face Yoongi feels like a heavy effort. Lips a little tingly from the spice of the stew. Parted as he breathes heavily, having to collect his hazy thoughts even to realize what he’s being asked. Let alone what he wants. 

“N–no… No, I ate too fast.” He sighs, Hoseok sets his hand on Jimin’s thigh, rubbing endeared. 

“Okay, we heard your thing. So it’s bedtime now.” His chuckle is gentle, and Jimin can feel Hoseok’s knuckles brush against his rounded tummy when his rubbing inches up his thigh, just before rubbing back down. It makes him realize just how big the portion was, looking down at himself as he nods lazily. Jimin sees the curve that pushes against his snug shirt. Little but no less mesmerizing. 

Jimin has never bloated like that. 

He is too entranced to hear the couple get up, only when Jimin’s vision is obscured by a hand that’s a lot less dainty than Hoseok; Yoongi’s. “Come on, up.” He looks up tiredly and dumbly. As if all his blood is leaving his head and traveling down to circle his stomach and help him digest. That mixed with the sleep deprivation making him lethargic, almost drunk-like. 

The grunt Jimin lets out as he stands makes the two older giggle. They each wrap an arm around Jimin’s lower back, letting him melt in their hold as they walk to bed. 

“I can take the futon.” Yoongi mumbles to Hoseok, basically hearing their silent communication as he stares ahead. Jimin’s head snaps back up to obstruct their vision at both his sides. 

“Your bed is big enough.” He states simply. Not asking before he plops in the middle of the bed, not questioning its state of messy. Shifting perfectly in the middle till he looks at them both with a smile. 

They’ve done this so many times already, it only takes the couple a few seconds to recompose themselves as they walk to the bed too, to lay at Jimin’s sides. Making the younger feel properly at peace, the memories of his stress and how awful he had felt about his demo already blurred by the nice rumbling sensation of his stomach digesting. His thoughts silenced, only a faint comment going on in his head as he falls asleep. 

He should definitely try this more often for all his producing sessions.   

They wake up at noon. At least Jimin does, the bed is empty and the sunlight is warming the covers perfectly. The sound of faint talking comes from outside, and it’s not nearly as strong as the smell of food. 

Looks like today he will be putting his theory to the test. 

He has lunch first thing, and then Yoongi and Hoseok make a spot for him in their home studio. That, now that he has the full proper hours of sleep, he finally notices how much better and more professional it is than the one he has at home. He isn’t sure if it’s the most productive Saturday afternoon of his life. But it’s definitely the one he’s enjoyed producing the most in. At least for the last few… semesters. 

When he leaves, the couple makes sure to tell him that “You always have a free spot here if you need some creative break.” And Jimin clings to that. It’s perfect, isn’t it? Jimin gets to see his hyungs more often, rekindle the relationship he had neglected ever since getting overworked in college. But not feel too guilty about hanging out with them since he gets to be productive too!

He doesn’t even have to think it the few days later when he texts them to hang out again. And Jimin welcomes it with open arms, even  when it becomes a couple-of-times-a-week thing. Getting to eat their delicious cooking and work on his projects without the churning of his stomach distracting him, or overworking himself to the point where his lower back stabs for a break. 

Yoongi will always go to the bathroom and come back with snacks for everyone but Jimin mostly works his way through them, Hoseok will stretch and whine a bit and urge Jimin to watch some short episodes of the shitty reality shows (that jimin tried to resist before inevitably getting invested in) as a break. Usually accompanied by some delivery, doesn’t have to be a meal, sometimes it’s ice cream or some baked goods “to boost up energy”. And around lunch and dinner, they all get up to just hang out around the kitchen.

The youngest hasn’t felt this well rested in ages. And… Ironically, workflow hasn’t been this smooth in ages either. Jimin spares himself from saying that out loud and getting a big fat “I told you so.” from both of them. But it’s clear they know, from the way they encourage Jimin and praise their work and praise how much more energetic he sounds and how his work starts feeling a little bit more creative and alive. 

He personally would blame having his two biggest inspirations in the room with him while he produces, but he supposes the sleep and food have something to do with it too. 

Jungkook and Taehyung won’t stop teasing him about it. But they just don’t get the friendship he has with Hoseok and Yoongi. A relationship that feels like he isn’t just regaining the closeness he had with the couple, but Jimin feels impossibly closer than ever before. Maybe the age difference was too apparent in highschool. Now that they’re all adults, Jimn can feel the way Yoongi and Hoseok treat him differently, letting him get closer. 

Babying him still, always. But they trust Jimin more, not trying to guard him as much as they used to in highschool. Guarding that only resulted in forced distance. When Jimin wanted nothing more than to get close… 

Maybe a little too close. 

He’s matured now, and so has their relationship. Jimin is fine with this. His crush in highschool was definitely a little too noticeable, and probably the reason why the couple tried to restrain themselves around the younger. Though now, he gets to see them behave like a couple. And it’s nothing short of endearing. 

The way Yoongi’s hands always find their way to Hoseok’s skin even in subtle ways. When it happens, even if he is deeply concentrated working, or halfway through talking, a small smile brightens Hoseok’s face.They can’t get enough of each other, Jimin would feel bad about third wheeling if it weren’t such a delight to see. 

Or if the food weren’t so delicious. 

And if the couple’s bed weren’t so comfy. 

His semester started like one of the worst in Jimin’s university years, and now he doesn’t remember ever being this easy going with all his assignments. With the olders’ assistance and inspiration, and care. It was like producing had never been easier. But he still can’t help getting nervous whenever it’s time to show his work to either Yoongi or Hoseok. Or worse, both of them. 

Today Jimin should feel relieved, it’s the day he is finally handing in that assignment, the soundtrack he had been working on for most of the second half of the year. But Jimin can’t give himself the pleasure, because he knows Yoongi and Hoseok won’t let him get by this achievement without them listening to it. 

Thankfully, though, the couple prepared a celebration feast. So at least Jimin will have something to keep busy with as the 20 minutes of soundtrack play in the background. The sole trick that has been getting him through every work session with his hyungs. 

Tonight, his distraction is looking like a big big portion of KFC. Because he mumbled craving fried chicken a few days ago, and of course, Yoongi and Hoseok weren’t gonna let that slide. He is eager to silence the jittery feeling down his navel, anxious to know what they will think of all this hard work. 

In the back of his mind, Jimin knows they would never say any critique without the perfect words. And Jimin knows how to take critiques, he doesn’t mind them! Unlike Taehyung. But something about them makes Jimin’s lower back shiver with goosebumps. 

So he doesn’t hold back from picking up the bucket of fried chicken and bringing it to his lap. Beginning to eat even as Yoongi starts to decompress the zip file of Jimin’s album. The crunch perfect to drown out the noise around him, that and the oily delicious flavor giving him something nice to focus on. Already chewing on a drumstick as the first chords start to play on Yoongi’s nice speakers. 

He’s heard these songs so many times, engraved them into his mind through the course of the semester, that they’re surprisingly easy to let fade into the background. That or the chicken is too good. Jimin closes his eyes too, for full immersion. During the last few months, with him inhabiting Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment more than ever before, he has actually grown somewhat of a resistance. It’s harder to have enough food to distract him for as long as he needs. 

Jimin has gotten faster at eating, is what he wants to say. 

But all this chicken should last him enough. Or at least long enough till he is full and hazy and able to drown out the critical ear that plagues him whenever he is forced to listen to any of his work. His chewing becomes more fervent as he starts to nip the drumstick clean of meat. Letting himself get lost in the hunger he feels. Convincing himself at least. 

It’s been a while since Jimin felt properly hungry. Impossible under his hyungs’ care. But still, he convinces himself to grab another piece of fried chicken even as he is still chewing the first one, barely managing to swallow as he pushes the new one in. Focusing on anything but the music, the crunchiness of the fried batter, resonating between his ears, the oil coating his tongue and the roof of his mouth, the taste that’s so delicious it makes Jimin feel the closest next thing to hunger. 

Gluttony. 

Relishing the sensation of warmth that spreads at the bottom of his stomach. The faster he eats the more time he has before he realizes just how heavily all this food is gonna make him feel later. Though, Jimin has realized, he doesn’t mind that heavy hazy aftermath either. In fact, it motivates him even more, the soundtrack becoming plain background noise. As he fully succumbs to it, each hand with a piece of chicken as Jimin loses his manners in an attempt to fit as much food as he can.  Stretching his lips around him, thankful that he is sitting a little bit behind the two older producers, so they can’t see him like this. Desperate and unmannered. But he bets the animalistic chewing sounds are revealing enough. 

It does the trick though, the music sounding more pleasant the fuller he gets, leaning back in his chair with the bucket still on his lap as he continues to eat at a more heinous and lethargic pace, wanting to keep this sedated high state for the entire duration of the soundtrack. He can feel his bloat begin to brush the bucket of chicken, but he doesn’t feel as full, not yet at least. 

Like he said, he’s built some resistance, even if he feels his stomach press against the fabric of his shirt and the bucket flush against his tummy. Jimin feels like he definitely has more room to finish this serving at least. 

As the soundtrack reaches its climax, so does he, his eating becoming impossibly more ravenous even as he starts feeling a proper tightness down his navel. Even if he has to push the chicken past his lips a little more forcefully, and leaning to eat the drumsticks becomes a little bit harder with the tautness of his bloat. The pile of clean bones collecting at the bottom of the bucket. 

Whipping his oily fingers on his shirt, sensation the curved stiffness of his belly. The pressure of his hands a welcoming feeling, it releases some of the tight stretch that makes his breathing a little heavier. Or that might just be the way he is suffocating himself with pieces of fried chicken, edges of his lips hurting a bit as he stretches over the humongous bites. Probably both. 

He has never timed it more perfectly, one oily hand reaching for the bucket while the other throws another clean bone in, and finds that he had finished it. Just as the last outro song begins to play. Jimin opens his eyes for the first time since he started eating, looking down at the bucket to find that yeah, he finished it. The warmth that spreads across his stomach borders on painful, but he adores it nonetheless, soothing and numbing. He can see his bloat too, stretching the shirt tight and pressing back against the bucket, rounded out cutely. A small plushness rounding the bottom of it. 

Though when Jimin looks up, he sees both Hoseok and Yoongi looking over their shoulders at him. The mess he made. 

The mess he turned himself into. 

“I thought we were eating after… to celebrate.” Hoseok is the first to comment, an endeared smile growing on his face. Oh… They had… mentioned something along those lines. 

“I—” Jimin tries to speak, though his voice sounds thick and greasy with all the oil. And speaking itself feels like an extension on his poor breathless state. Seems like Yoongi takes pity on him. 

“Leave him, he was hungry.” He wasn’t, and by the little smile Yoongi has on, he seems to be thinking the same. “Wanna go to bed, Min?” His tone is so gentle with him, like Yoongi knows just how lethargic and drowsy he feels right now. 

“N-no…” He huffs out a breath after the sentence, like itself is an effort. “What did you think?” 

“I don’t know if you’re awake enough to hear.” Hoseok giggles, getting a light slap to the thigh from his boyfriend. Prompting him to correct himself. “We loved it, Jiminie. Your hard work shows.” 

“Really?” His tone sounds childishly hopeful as it does sleepy. 

“Yes.” Though Hoseok’s tone sounds genuine nonetheless. “Your take on things is so unique, Jimin.” 

That seems to settle him, Yoongi prompts. “You can go to bed, I’ll take this.” He stands up and picks up the empty bucket. Leaving Jimin bare to his impressive bloat. The hem of his shirt even rode up a little at the very bottom, leaving a sliver of skin he hadn’t noticed before. But he is painfully self aware now. Blush creeping up his cheeks as he tries to fold his arms over his torso in a way that’s casual, but also hides the damage. 

Jimin knows he is unsuccessful when Hoseok giggles. “It’s not that bad, Minnie.” 

“I look huge…” The words slip out easier and less filtered when he is this full, all that food lulling him to sleep. 

“Well it suits you a bit.” Hoseok is standing up too, offering a hand. “Come, let’s get you to bed.” That sounds like the best idea anyone has ever had. 

He’s overeaten a lot in this apartment, looking for ways to sedate himself into enjoying his music more. But never was it this hard to stand up, even with Hoseok’s hearty pull upwards Jimin can’t help a grunt slipping from the back of his throat. Feeling all the food in his stomach shift with the movement, he has to cup the (naked) bottom of his bloat for some comfort. It’s not that taut. 

Hoseok is there to help, wrapping a slim arm around Jimin’s waist, letting the dainty palm settle on the side of his tummy as they slowly make their way to the bedroom. The younger feels his breath shallow as if he had come from a marathon. Every step making his bloat bounce against the waistband of his sweatpants and aching a little in the process. He’s never been more thankful for the cozy size of Hoseok and Yoongi’s apartment, because it’s only a few meters before he is plopping heavily onto the center of the bed. The movement caused a burp to push its way out of his lips. Jimin whines and throws his head back, careless enough to let both of his hands settle on the curve of his bloat and massage the tight skin. Coaxing a few more burps to slip out, though he lets them fill out his cheeks instead of ripping them out. 

He can feel Hoseok’s eyes on him, even with Jimin’s own eyes closed in a mixture of bliss and discomfort. Hearing a few footsteps get nearer. When Hoseok mumbles “Look at him.” His smile is audible too. 

“Are you alright, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi’s voice has a chuckle attached to the end of it, and Jimin can feel the bed shift as the older makes his way to sit next to him. He wants to answer, of course, but all that leaves him is a pouty whine. Opening his eyes only to put them in puppy mode for both of his hyungs. 

“Want a heat pad?” Yoongi’s voice offers kindly. 

“We leant it to my sister.” Hoseok comments, though his voice feels closer. And sure enough, there’s another feeling of shift at Jimin’s other side. “But I think we can give him something else.” Trustful, Jimin doesn’t bother to open his eyes to know what that is. But instead he feels the grazing of Hoseok’s soft but cold fingers against the center of his bloat. “Can we?” He doesn’t need to specify, Jimin knows they both saw him massaging his gut after stuffing himself. 

All he does is nod, before Hoseok’s palm is pressing flush to the warm skin, his fingers are squishing at the center of his taut stomach. Jimin’s jaw drops, a soft gasp leaving his lips. “Is this okay?” It prompts the question, that he answers wordlessly again with a quick eager nod. 

The extra reassurance makes another hand graze a bit lower on his stomach, not as soft, calloused, but warmer. So irrevocably Yoongi’s. His massages are slower but firm, some of it pressing against the naked bit of skin. Though only for a few seconds, before he tugs down (or tries to) the hem of Jimin’s shirt. Only for it to ride back up again to sit on the biggest part of his bloat. Yoongi doesn’t bother to pull it down a second time. Instead, the tips of his fingers, roughened up by the guitar, slip under the hem. Making Jimin sigh in relief, the older’s hand like a heat pad on its own, as Yoongi begins to slowly grip and knead the bottom. 

Hoseok takes initiative. Not just letting his hand slip under the snug shirt. But tugging it further up Jimin’s torso. Exposing the rounded out, swollen tummy, his hand setting on the hardest part right at the top. The gentle pressure makes a groan slip from the back of his throat, throwing his head back. 

“You really overdid it, Min-ah…” Hoseok muses, there’s a teasing tone hiding somewhere under his warm voice. But Jimin feels too much bliss to properly acknowledge it, thighs shuddering as his back arches to their touches. 

Yoongi is painfully quiet, but his hand keeps moving slowly along the bottom of his belly. Massaging what feels like a bloat, but is somewhat easy on the hands, easier than the top where Hoseok’s hand is. Pudgy…

A choked sound leaves his lips, it errands a small but no-less teasing chuckle from Hoseok. “That’s it, you worked so hard today.” His voice sounds closer to Jimin’s ear. The warmth coming from his stomach only grew with the presence of the older next to him. 

“Don’t hold back.” Hoseok’s breath brushes against his ear and it’s a sudden contrast with the warmth that’s beginning to emanate from his skin. His heavy breathing hitches, feeling not only the bloat coaxing wheezes of air, but Hoseok’s closeness too. That does nothing to help his breathing either. And he is sure Hoseok knows his impact, his smile pretty much palpable when he hums. “Hm?” 

Jimin doesn’t think he can answer something properly in the stuffed state he is in. Let alone with the way his heart skips a beat. 

“O–Okay.” He manages to whisper, letting his head tilt to the side, meeting Hoseok’s shoulder. 

“That’s it.” The older’s voice is barely above a whisper, the hand on the shelf of Jimin’s rounded bloat pushing him closer to Hoseok’s side, to lean a bit of his weight against his lithe torso. He doesn’t resist the guidance, not caring about the suffocating heat if he is sharing it with Hoseok. But the push against the top of his stomach, it makes him grunt at first, feeling the tight pressure. 

And as he shifts his hips lethargically, though, a deep burp comes out. Right next to Hoseok’s face. 

That makes Jimin’s eyes pop open, feeling pretty much the bucket of ice water that showers him. Meeting Hoseok’s equally widened expression. 

“Pfthahahah!” Bubbly giggles make Hoseok’s body shake. A sense of relief washing over Jimn’s suddenly tense muscles. As Jimin follows along with a shy chuckle. He notices, Hoseok wasn’t watching him. He was watching at Yoongi. 

Jimin had almost forgotten about him. And he is met with a stoic, serious expression; a tint of pink on his face. Was it always that color? 

“I think you should go to sleep, Jiminie.” Hoseok interrupts the younger’s analysis with a smile. His hands guiding Jimin away from his own body to lay fully against the bed. He doesn’t fight back but he probably has a confused pouty expression on his face. Luckily Hoseok seems to notice. “We haven’t had dinner yet.” His tone is so endeared. “We’ll come back to you in a bit, okay?” 

Jimin can only nod, his eyes avoiding Hoseok as he continues to study Yoongi’s expression. But the eldest doesn’t look back. Staring at some spot in the mattress. 

“Night, Min.” Hoseok’s hand combs his fringe out of his forehead as he stands up, Yoongi following suit. But only mumbling a quiet:

“Night.” 

Jimin stays quiet himself, controlling his breathing as he watches the couple walk out of the room. 

He doesn’t know what just happened, but he is pretty certain he ruined it. But, the now soothed, warmness clinging to his belly is pulling also at his eyelids, lulling him to sleep. 

Though he is soothed to find the couple snoring besides him when he wakes up. 

Not all that ruined, then. 

It would make sense… Now that Jimin’s semester project is finished, and his vacations are starting, Jimin doesn’t have a need to be hanging out at their apartment to stress-manage once every two days. 

But they keep inviting him. And…. Jimin really likes their company. And their apartment is much nicer than the shoebox he is sharing with Jungkook and Taehyung. And now he can just hang out with them without the stress of his assignments. 

It’s a no-brainer. 

And, if he felt the couple slowly open up to him more during these months, putting down the walls they had with Jimin in highschool.Now it’s like Jimin can free himself too. Letting himself hang out in their apartment and not just their secluded studio. Hanging out happily on the couch, Hoseok by his side, feeling comfortable enough to cuddle close. Until Yoongi got back from his music teacher gig and then they started working on dinner. 

Or even going out vinyl shopping with Yoongi, since Hoseok thinks he has an obsession. And getting to hear the older talk for hours, even asking for Jimin’s opinion on which he prefers. They stop to get take out and bring it back home, to eat dinner while they listen to the entire thing. With Hoseok’s too-warm-to-be-disapproving expression on his face. 

And Jimin still sleeps in their bed, with them. For tradition’s sake, of course. 

He could also argue it’s for the sake of tradition the way his eating hasn’t diminished in the slightest. Even if a situation like that hasn’t repeated again, and Jimin truly doesn’t have an excuse to stuff himself at that anxious desperate pace anymore, he’s now switched to a constant state of snacking. 

Now that he doesn’t have assignments to keep him concentrated, or to have prize-meals, once he finishes said assignments; and that he is all around just hanging out more at their house. Jimin began to make himself comfortable in the couple’s kitchen. Feeling free to rummage through cabinets; during the course of the summer finding more and more of his favorites. Which might have something to do with the one time (in their moment of peak domesticity) Jimin went with the couple to buy groceries and they let him pick out a few things since “you’re there often enough.” 

A joke when he heard it, but those things have become now regular stock in the Min-Jung household. Much to Jimin’s detriment. When he once felt embarrassed to only be at the couple’s house to work on his assignments. Now he feels guilty of emptying their kitchen.

But they’re so encouraging. If not to say, they’re the ones filling Jimin’s plate. Whether it’s giving him second or sometimes third servings of their dinner. Or taking the empty bowl of snacks Jimin has by his side on the couch, only to come back with it filled again. And all this on top of Jimin’s slow wanderings into the kitchen, standing on his toes as he reaches for the couple’s cabinets. Already accustomed with where to find his stuff, and stray away from Hoseok’s granola (He’s invited Jimin to try it… but he’s grown a taste for… yummier things). 

Jimin notices a shift, Hoseok cuddles him closer, even if the situation like the one of his last assignment didn’t repeat. Hoseok’s hands still wander and pat and praise where they can get away with. Which is way more than whatever Hoseok is doing. But he likes this. The push and pull, the giddy smiles and playful glances. It feels like something that would’ve made highschool Jimin swoon, but now not only is he different and (in his personal opinion) much better and matured, but Hoseok is too. These past months it’s felt like all he has been doing is rediscovering his old crushes and falling for their new selves all over again. 

He hasn’t been noticing that shift… with Yoongi. Always friendly, always warm. Always indulging to Jimin. But at arms length. Still some of that hesitance from highschool clinging to him. The younger can’t say he blames him. But instead he is getting mixed feelings about all the attention Hoseok has been giving him.

Is this okay?

Nothing ever actually happened, Jimin could really just be making all this up, his highschool hopes and dreams coming back to haunt him; due to all the Hoseok-Yoongi exposure. He can imagine it. Yoongi and Hoseok looking at him with a fond warm smile, the one they’ve given Jimin all of his youth. Seeing the two of them fall in love while they were probably aware of the younger’s feelings. Kind but so impossibly condescending. The idea of possibly putting himself in that position is enough of a motivation to push these thoughts to the back of his mind; and rather enjoy this while he can. 

Living almost exclusively in his gym shorts, the waistband of which feels tighter as the summer goes on. The hems at his legs digging into his thighs when they’ve never done that before. Sinking into his ass as he walks. All his shirts are constantly stretched over… his belly. 

This lethargic lifestyle… It made Jimin gain a few. Maybe more. He’d worry about it if Hoseok and Yoongi weren’t treating him all the same, encouraging and doting him with anything he wants. And, Hoseok in particular, Jimin is sure he is touchier. Patting him all over, maybe that’s when Jimin should have noticed the fact he was getting softer all around, before properly plumping up. But… Hoseok’s praise and hands feel too good to focus on anything else. 

It was definitely there, though. Comments like “Your appetite nowadays is something else.” When Jimin is reaching for thirds, stomach is already heavy with a meal but still roomy for more. Still not stuffed over the edge, where he gets breathless, red, and a little sweaty. 

“Got you a refill. Since I know you can work your way through a whole bag of these.” He chuckles while setting another bowl of cookies next to Jimin on the couch. His usual spot in the house nowadays. Even when he is producing he hasn’t been in the studio much at all. He likes to joke that it gives him war flashbacks. 

He feels a bit like an idiot for not noticing. Only really realizing he’s fattened up when he needs to pull his gym shorts under his belly. That hangs comfortably over the waistband and pushes forward, squishy muffin top clinging to his shirt too. Probably the only thing keeping it from riding up the curve of his gut. Though he can feel the sliver of skin up his chubby back when he sinks into his comfortable side of the couch. 

The tightness follows up his thickened waist, where rolls were stacking up comfortably. There’s a logo on the front of his shirt, that’s stretched white from the expanse of his chest. Rounded, pudgy and emasculated. He gives a tentative squeeze. No sight of muscle, thumb and index sinking right in. 

Even the sleeves feel tight sinking into the new chub that hangs from his arms. And the collar of the shirt seems nearly suffocating. Not to mention, this has been the hardest summer has ever been for him. Needing the constant company of the AC. He turns it off out of pity for Hoseok and Yoongi’s electricity bill. But it’s only a few minutes until he starts getting sticky with sweat. 

Jimin hasn’t just gained a few, he’s fat. And he let himself be blissfully ignorant for most of the summer. 

But, then again, Hoseok doesn’t seem to be against it. 

And Yoongi… Well he hasn’t even acknowledged it even happened. 

Hoseok must be the only one who has a thing for it. Just like he seems to be the one who has a thing for Jimin anyway….

If he sounds a bit sulky. He is. 

Though, his conflicted feelings about his weight gain, liking it, liking Hoseok like it, and feeling frustrated at Yoongi’s lack of response, aren’t enough to keep him from showing up. Lately he doesn’t even have to warn the couple, Jimin knows their schedules already. 

Yoongi opens the door for him. “Hey.” Even if he wanted to, Jimin can’t read into Yoongi’s actions. Always so genuine and so particularly warm towards the younger. 

“Hi hyung.” He really tries not to let his own intentions with them ruin the amazing relationship he already has, especially with Yoongi. Who’s only ever given support and love in Jimin’s life. They reach for a hug, the few instances in which Yoongi ever so much as touches him. But they’re always the same, perfectly respectable. His broad hands spread in the upper part of Jimin’s back. Even as the younger’s belly is big enough to overspill from the sides of Yoongi’s torso. Not too long. Perfectly standard. Almost calculated when he separates.

Okay, maybe Jimin is reading too deep into Yoongi.

“Smells delicious.” He puts a giddy smile on his face, and Yoongi rolls his eyes. As if pretending the only reason he didn’t go above and beyond in his cooking is Jimin’s almost daily appearances. 

“Got some Ssambap ready.” That answer alone makes Jimin groan in delight as he walks further into the apartment. 

“Hiii!” He exclaims, waiting for an eager Hoseok to rush to greet him. Give him a proper hug. Hmf. “Is he in the studio?” It wouldn’t be the first time he had to pretty much keep his hand pressed on the doorbell to get the producer couple to take off their headphones and notice he was outside. 

“No, no, Miss Jung had some problems with her car. Hoseok just went to help out.” That makes Jimin’s head turn over his shoulder. Shit-eating smile already on his face. 

“Miss Jung?” 

“Hoseok’s mom.” Yoongi states simply.

“You call your boyfriend’s mom ‘Miss’?” He can’t help the giggle that slips out as he says it. Getting the respected reaction when Yoongi scoffs jokingly offended. “You’ve been together for like 9 years!” 

“I’m a respectful son in law!” He whines. Before his face morphs into a pout. “And she is a very scary woman.” 

That makes Jimin burst into a fit of giggles. Folding over himself, feeling the overhang of his belly fully press against his lap. Shirt riding up his back for him to quickly adjust it down when he stands back up right. 

“You are adorable.” “I don’t know why I keep letting you come here.”  Yoongi deadpans, eyes looking particularly anywhere that isn’t Jimin and his hands adjusting this shirt to fit over his love handles. Ouch.

“Because Hoseok likes me.” If Jimin were bolder he wouldn’t have said it in such a joking tone. But for the sake of keeping the peace. He’s now becoming acutely aware of how long it’s been since he and Yoongi hung out alone. “And because you’ve become incapable of cooking for two anymore.” That gets a smile out of him. 

“I did enough for us to eat ssambap for breakfast and lunch tomorrow…” He confesses. “Are you hungry?” 

“Always.” Jimin grins and follows the older to the kitchen, the smell is downright mouth-watering. But he is stopped as he tries to set the table. 

“No no, I’ll take stuff to the studio. I wanna show you what I’m working on.” The small smile on Yoongi’s face is enough to make Jimin’s stomach twist in excitement. No matter the inner conundrum Jimin has, he will always be excited for either of his hyungs’ music. Especially when he has that confident smile on his face. Yoongi looks amazing when he is confident. 

Is it excitement he feels? Or are those just the butterflies? 

“Got it.” He interrupts himself to nod and turn on his heel. It’s been at least a few months since he’s nestled into the studio. But it feels just as familiar as it did that last time when he handed in his final work… And also all that stuff happened during his final hand in. 

It does feel more cozy than he remembers, feeling himself get hot in the smaller room as he walks to his designated chair. What must’ve been an old one that either Hoseok or Yoongi used. At least judging by the screech it lets out as Jimin settles his weight into it. 

Jimin looks down at himself, it’s a tight fit. His sides nearing the edge of the chair, nearly grazing the armrests. Though he can feel his thighs sink a little into them, as well as overspill from the edge of the chair. Jimin says feel, because he can’t get a proper look at it. His belly, only cramped forward by the armrests, takes a comfortable seat on half of his lap. 

With pursed lips, Jimin makes himself bounce gently onto the chair. His belly slaps against his lap, and the rest of him jiggles in unison. But the chair only gives a few creaks in complaint. 

Okay, he’s good-

Yoongi clears his throat; the younger snaps his face in his direction to find him standing by the door. Did he just see Jimin testing if the chair could hold his weight? 

“I’ll–I’ll go get the uh… the food.” Jimin’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach with the awkward look on the older’s face. Nearly fleeing the scene before he could catch Jimin behaving like the hog he turned himself into. 

Or well… The one they encouraged him into becoming.

A bitter taste takes over his tongue, if he finds it so uncomfortable, then maybe he shouldn’t have been so doting towards Jimin. Let him go completely crazy these past three months, just to show him rejection once he’s gone too far. Once Jimin started realizing he actually still cares what his hyungs think about him. A little bit more than he’s proud to admit; a lot more than he has any right to. 

The sweet smell of ssambap, the pork belly caramelized by its own fat, fills the room as Yoongi walks in with a tray with the big serving, some lettuce, rice, kimchi and two little bowls for them. That little smile is back on his face, like he is trying to brush off the awkwardness of barley a few minutes ago. The taste on Jimin’s mouth becomes unbearingly bitter. Maybe that’s why he is so eager to reach for the assortment of little dishes beginning to assemble his ssambap; while Yoongi begins to open the file he wanted to show him. 

His mind feels far away, deep into himself. It feels unfair that Jimin is being rejected like this when Yoongi and Hoseok were the ones to instigate it. But then again, part of him wonders if the oldest took notice of how Jimin and Hoseok’s relationship became more playful; flirtier. That would be a pretty justified anger. 

“Okay, this is for the opening of a short film they hired me to do.” Yoongi eyes briefly at Jimin with a smile; the younger already with the perfect, maybe a bit overstuffed, piece of lettuce in his hand. “Tell me what you think.” 

Even before he is turning to play the song, Jimin is pushing the ssambap into his mouth, brushing the hem of his stretched lips. Okay, really, overstuffed that one. But he can’t help but feel a little bit seductive as he is wrapping his plump lips around his chubby index finger that pushed the bite in and slipped it out. Already making a second one as he chews. The sucky thing about this dish is, there’s really no way for Jimin to eat ravenously as he has gotten used to. But Jimin can at least let himself relax; feel a bit more confident as the delicious crunchy and perfectly oily pork belly reaches his tongue. 

He has to hold back the moan that threatens to resonate in the back of his throat; it would definitely be disrespectful to interrupt the song with his gorging. Song that by the way, has this ethereal feel to it, gently creating the dreamy setting. It only feels fair that Jimin quickly scrambles to prepare a second bite, only to slowly lean back in the poor office chair. And not even the loud creak can ruin the religious experience that takes over his senses as he closes his eyes, letting himself get lost in the music, followed by the orgasmic balance of flavors that take over his mouth as he drops his jaw and manages to fit the humongous bite in. 

But… The sudden snap of the lumbar support of the chair, with the loud thud of Jimin falling to the ground. That’s enough to snap both of them out of the listening experience. Hitting the carpet floor with a thud and a loud. Not giving Jimin time to react before he is “oufing” against the floor staring at the ceiling. Taking the entire seat of the chair with him and leaving behind the headless wheeled legs. 

Yoongi comes into view from above, looking as stunned as Jimin feels. Maybe a little less out of breath. 

“A-are you okay?” The younger only now has time to feel the mortifying embarrassment, as Yoongi kneels at his side offering his hand. Eyebrows raised almost comically with worry. 

“Y…yeah-” He can only breathe out a reply, following the way Yoongi’s widened eyes graze along his fatteened body. The shock threw away any attempt at subtlety, letting Jimin see… the mortified expression.

Jimin’s heart tightens. Its disgust Yoongi is pathetically trying to mask. 

“I’m–I’m fine, I’m fine.” His chubby hand shoos Yoongi as he slowly starts sitting up. “Ow…” He pouts his lips. Yoongi’s hands rub down his own thighs nervously, not knowing what to do with himself. 

That’s okay, Jimin doesn’t know what to do with himself either. Though, as if to make matters worse, the front door opens. 

Obviously too flabbergasted to act on his own, still looking at Jimin’s body with panicked eyes, Yoongi screams “Office!” Not giving the youngest time to react before hurried steps are thumping quickly through the apartment. Hoseok probably noticed the slight panic in Yoongi’s tone. Both his and Jimin’s head snapping towards the door frame when Hoseok’s slim silhouette appears; in complete quiet as if they were getting caught in the middle of something they shouldn’t have. At least Jimin felt that way. 

“What’s wrong??” Hoseok speaks before he gets there. Both Yoongi and Jimin’s head snapping towards the door frame when Hoseok’s slim silhouette appears; in complete quiet as if they were getting caught in the middle of something they shouldn’t have. At least Jimin felt that way. Hoseok’s eyes bulged out at the crime scene before him, switching between Yoongi, dejectedly kneeling on the floor and, and Jimin laying with the armrests of the chair still squeezing into his sides. 

“Sorry about the chair.” He blurts, unmoving from his spot on the carpet. 

There’s a brief moment of quiet. Before Hoseok, folds over, bursting out laughing. High pitched and cutting through the uncomfortable silence Yoongi and Jimin were drowning in. Hand having to hold onto the door frame to hold himself from falling. 

“Oh Yoonie…” His voice is 3 octaves higher and breathier, through barely contained laughter. “I leave for an hour… And this is what you get into-!” He can’t finish his point, interrupted by another fit of laughter. 

“Shut up!” Yoongi’s voice also sounds higher pitched, for all the opposite reasons. Outraged, whiny and embarrassed. 

“Enjoying yourself?” A teasing tone clings to his voice, and Hoseok has that distinctive shit-eating grin. The mocking in his words does nothing to soothe Jimin’s self consciousness about the older. 

“The opposite" Jimin snorts humorlessly. “You should see how he is looking at me, hyung.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out that bitter, and the eyeing he gives Yoongi doesn’t help. But it’s something that has been eating him up, and Yoongi should seriously be more subtle about his distaste for Jimin’s weight gain. 

“What do you mean?” The oldest’s eyes are suddenly fully on him. Making Jimin feel extremely exposed. The idea of backing down and brushing it on flashing through his mind. 

“You’ve been weird for weeks now!” The whine slips out of his mouth before he can even consider that alternative. “Ever since I got fat!” His chubby pointy finger points at Yoongi’s gobsmacked expression. 

“W-what?” Even Hoseok looks stunned. 

“I’m sorry if my weight gain, that you two encouraged, is ruining the mood for you! And whatever’s happening between us!” Jimin can’t help but snort, he is tired of the confusion. “But you could try and be, I don’t know, nicer about it!” Jimin is suddenly very aware of the fact that he is screaming. Suddenly shrinking a bit into himself and looking anywhere else; he finds a nice spot on the floor. “A-and help me up.” 

The silence is palpable, at least for the two seconds before a hollering laughter makes the walls shake. Hoseok nearly folding over himself and having to grip the door frame to avoid falling down. It’s shocking enough that even Yoongi and JImin share a puzzled look before looking at Hoseok.

“You told me– You told me you were going to tell him! Yah!” He manages to finish a sentence but it’s attached to a string of giggles. Jimin was startled enough to ponder if Hoseok was talking to him, but Yoongi beats him to it. 

“I–I was going to!” His eyes darted between the youngest and his boyfriend. “The time just wasn’t right.” Jimin’s own eyes are bulging outwards between the couple, huffing as he sits up from where he was laying on the floor. 

“Tell me what?!” 

There’s another beat of silence. 

“Yoongichi here, has a weight gain kink.” The mocking smile doesn’t leave his face. Jimin feels his heart stammer erratically. “And I was dumb enough to think he would’ve told you by now… With how much weight you put on and all.” 

He is at a loss of words, though Yoongi speaks before he can even begin to formulate words. “You’re making me sound like a creep! It’s not like that!” He speaks through a pout, looking at Jimin with desperation. Who can’t offer any comforting words back, jaw hanging limp in complete shock. 

“We— I didn’t plan on making you gain any weight.” He explains exasperated, suddenly not looking at anyone’s eyes. “You were just so spent with work and–and it just was my way of looking after you!” 

Jimin never would’ve considered… 

“I obviously uhm… noticed the gain. But I didn’t want to freak you out.” Yoongi does dare to look at Jimin in the eyes then, genuine and a little scared. “I may have taken it too far with my acting. And caused the opposite effect I wanted. I’m sorry.” His face scrunches up into a flinch the more he goes on, as if preparing for another one of Jimin’s explosive reactions. 

“I…” The youngest starts to speak, mainly because he can feel it’s his que to respond. But without the slightest clue what he should say. Seeing from the corner of his eye Hoseok stepped closer to where the pair was sitting on the floor. “You like it?” His eyes darted between the two of them, not able to help the hopeful tone of his voice; impossible to hide it after these old feelings resurfaced with full force. 

“I don’t have a kink for it, personally.” Hoseok’s hand finds Yoongi’s shoulder. “But I think you look beautiful, Jiminie.” The oldest is nodding eagerly. 

“I don’t like you just because of the weight either.” His face is serious but his nodding is desperate, as if still scared of giving the Jimin the wrong idea, whose heart is stammering out of his ribs. 

“I like the weight.” He sounds more sure than he has all night. Nodding softly as his eyes dart between the two. “I like getting to hang out with you again, and getting taken care of by you.” Once he starts he doesn’t think he can stop. “And I like that you two don’t look at me like I’m a kid anymore, and finally feeling like I have a chance.” He smiles a bit, Jimin knows he is risking it all, but he can’t bring himself to care when it feels so good to let go of all these emotions.

Hoseok kneels behind his boyfriend, at eye level with Yoongi. He is biting his lip with an endeared smile on his face. “Well… we have all changed since then.” 

“You’re not a tween anymore.” Yoongi jokes with a shit-eating smile that shows at least some ease on his part. 

“You are 2 years older than me.” The look on the oldest face eases him enough to retort back. “Only one year younger than Hobi hyung. You two just behave like senior citizens.” Hoseok breaks into giggles and Jimin feels quite accomplished about that. 

“It feels more drastic in highschool! You know that!” His melodic laughter fills the room. Jimin feels his own shoulders slump in proper relief. And he catches the older looking at Hoseok with lovesick eyes as his laughter calms down. “Babe… offer him dessert.” He whispers to Yoongi with an amused smile. 

“Oh!” He smiles a little embarrassed before turning his face back to Jimin. “Min-ah, do you think you have any more roo-” 

“Yes.” Jimin answers without giving Yoongi time to finish. “Help me up.”

 gif credits!1st gif : gainerbf on tumblr, October 3rd 2023

2nd-4th gif : overfedbutterball on tumblr, September 11th 2023

5th photo: fatbellygirl-piggy on tumblr, November 16th 2023