No, Jungkook knew it was a bad idea. He just doesn’t have the ability to say no to Jimin.
And that's somehow more insulting to his integrity.
“Hyung, are you sure you don’t want to go with anyone else?” He whines with a pout, doing nothing to resist the two small hands holding onto one of his, tugging him along his own apartment.
“I’ve gone with everyone else. I wanna take you!”
“I’m already over heated on a daily basis. I don’t need to go to a sauna.”
“If you’re so overheated then it won’t make a difference. Would you rather be overheated alone, or overheated making your hyung happy?” Jimin’s negotiation tactics are unmatched.
Or maybe Jungkook’s crush is too big.
His shoulders relax with a big, defeated, sigh. “I wanna make hyung happy…”
“Thought so! I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” Jimin says, taking off his rubber gloves. As of late, his hyung has been coming unannounced to Jungkook’s apartment. Just to hang out, check up on him. And… do some chores while he is at it.
He knows it has something to do with Jimin’s break up, making himself busy and reaching out. But… Jungkook can’t deny it probably has something to do with his increasing size too… It's embarrassing to admit but, lately he’s been getting winded by doing something as simple as washing the dishes.
Pretty sure the solution for that isn’t to just let someone else do it. Yet every time he tells Jimin not to do it, he doesn’t listen.
So yeah, he agreed to do something nice for Jimin for a change.
Though his regrets are flooding him the moment Jungkook steps into the traditional Korean sauna. Jimin is babbling on excitedly about the health benefits while tugging Jungkook into the changing rooms. He can’t really hear what he is saying, thrown off by the weight on his hand, holding the uniforms he was given.
Surely the biggest size the spa offers but… that doesn’t mean much to Jungkook.
It's not the first time he and Jimin strip in front of each other, but that doesn’t make it easier. Especially when he gets the perfect view of Jimin’s back muscles flexing around his spine tattoo, lithe but built. Or that slender waist his torso tapers down into, adonis dimples making Jungkook bite into his bottom lip. And that's nothing compared to the carving of his V-line down into his-
“What's the matter? Do you need me to ask for a bigger size?” He is snapped back to reality, eyes darting back to Jimin’s face mortified, as the older finishes slipping on his ochre shirt.
“I don't think there-” Jungkook stops himself from finishing that sentence. Too embarrassing. “No, this is alright, hyung.” He smiles unsurely before beginning to strip himself.
Jimin might have had the initiative to offer help with his chores, but this is something he has been tackling himself… Getting dressed. He knows how to, of course, it's more a… logistics issue. Panting by the time he managed to strip his shirt, shoulders sore from holding up his arms. Needing to settle a hand on his torso to stop everything from jiggling so much; now free from the fabric confines.
And the shirt provided by the spa… It gets the job done at least.
The hem sits dangerously on the bottom most-protruding part of his belly. Threatening to ride up with any slight movement. In fact, Jungkoook has no guarantee that his entire overhang is being covered until he finds a mirror. But he also gets to see the way his flabby chest is perfectly outlined by the unflattering fabric. Mounds of fat sagging to the sides and sitting on the shelf of his belly; especially bloated after a meal.
He shouldn’t have eaten such a big lunch.
But then again, Jungkook can’t say it would have made that big of a difference.
If any.
The pants are much less forgiving, when Jungkook lowers to tug them up, his entire belly pressing against the top of his thighs makes his shirt ride up. And the pants feel suffocating on his thighs as they go up. Jungkook doesn’t need to check to know the elastic sits right under his hip bone… Too low for comfort. He can feel it in the tight embrace of the waistband right underneath his overhang, and perfectly above his fatpad.
What Jungkook can’t be sure of, is if his pants are tight enough around his crotch to make said fat pad… or any of his modesty noticeable. He is too busy tugging the hem of his shirt back into place.
Far too terrified to check if Jimin saw any of that, he begins walking out. Faking his excitement. “Let's get it!” Luckily he isn’t facing Jimin, so he can cringe at his choice of words in peace.
Though, he stops in his tracks when he sees the actual sauna… Already feeling overheated from the big furnace in the middle of the room that warms up the little rooms. Yet what ties Jungkook’s stomach in a knot is the entrances to said rooms. Looking somewhat closer to a vent, it looks like the average person would have to crouch to make it inside, maybe get on all fours if you’re tall.
For someone Jungkook’s size… He isn’t sure how he is going to manage.
He isn’t given the time to ponder on that, as Jimin is tugging him excitedly towards one of the huts. And his hyung is merciless, waiting patiently by the door for Jungkook to step inside first.
“I’ll be right after you, Kook-ah.” His smile is too bright to be innocent. But to accuse him of anything would only expose him. Admitting he is too big to get into the sauna.
Not happening.
As he crouches, his belly, that was already sagging over his crotch, presses pillowy and milky against his thighs. Everything he loses in height he makes up for in width. Belly squishing outwards, Jungkook can feel the sides of his flabby arms brush against the hot and sweaty wall, the rolls on his waist not that far behind. Legs squished together with barely any room for their small little steps inside. He can feel his lower back completely naked, the poor uniform shirt long ridden up his torso. Jungkook wouldn’t be surprised if his crack were showing.
He can’t turn around, but he doesn’t have to, he knows Jimin is looking at him. Jungkook can feel the older’s eyes piercing at his behind. “I-It’s kind of tight.” He calls out unsurely.
“Oh come on, you’re fine.” Nothing could have prepared him for Jimin’s voice to be so close. Let alone for his small hand to pat on Jungkook’s overflowing ass. Making him yelp.
“Y–Yah!”
“Go on, hurry! My back is starting to hurt.” Jimin’s giggles.
“Your back is starting to hurt!” He scoffs, rolling his eyes, finally squeezing his body out of the corridor-like entrance.
Having the decency to waddle towards a wall before plopping down to sit. On the floor.
Jungkook can’t remember the last time he sat on the floor before. Unable to reach to the hem on his back and tug it down, so this is the only way to guarantee he isn’t completely flashing Jimin… Again.
He can’t even begin to cross his legs, trying and failing to shift his weight to the side and try to lift his weight and cross his leg. But the tree trunk thigh is too heavy even then. So Jungkook is resigned to sit with his legs spread. At least it gives his belly comfortable room to sag between his thighs.
Jimin crosses his legs easily in front of him. “Hopefully that was too much of an effort to make you stay at least a little bit.” He giggles sweetly.
“I warned you that you should bring with someone else.” Jungkook knows he is pouting, and he can’t do anything to stop it. “Don’t be mean.” At least his blush can be blamed on the scorching temperature of the sauna.
He can already feel his entire face dampen, hair sticking to his forehead as beads of sweat begin to trickle down the sides of his face, rolling easily down the curve of his fat cheeks onto his neck. Only stopping around the dent of the roll that began to settle under his chin. Clothes sticking to his torso, sweat stains beginning to darken the line underneath his saggy chest and the rolls on his sides.
Jimin’s expression softens. “I’m not being mean. Just trying to push you out of your comfort zone.”
“Oh I’m uncomfortable alright.” His ass is beginning to soak through his pants with sweat.
He feels like a cooked ham.
“I just wanted to get you out of the house for a change…” It's Jimin’s turn to pout, and Jungkook’s turn to widen.
“I get out!”
“Do you?” His hyung’s response comes a bit quicker and more accusing than probably either of them were expecting.
There's a brief moment of silence. With a much gentler tone, Jimin continues. “It just… Lately it just seems like you’re struggling to get around…”
Jungkook stills. “What?” He heard him correctly. But he is too stunned to say anything else.
“Don’t tell me you don’t notice.” A guilty look takes over Jimin’s face, lips pursed into a pout. “You were always chubby but it's been…. you’ve been…” Jungkook’s stomach twists, waiting for Jimin to find the words, despite knowing what his hyung wants to say.
“Growing…” Jimin admits.
“You think I can just sweat all this weight off? Is that it?”
“No! Not at all!” The panic materializes in Jimin’s wide eyes and hands shaking in the air. “I just… When was the last time you got out of the house?” He grimaces as he asks that question.
“You come to my house and do all my chores for me. Don’t you think that would be a good chance for me to move around?” He can’t help his accusing tone.
This is the last conversation Jungkook wants to be having.
The last person he would want to be having that conversation with.
And the last place he would want that conversation to happen in.
“I— well… It's my job to spoil you!” Jimin’s argument is weak.
Jungkook, in a brave moment of bravery, and possibly heat stroke, uses that moment to press on harder. “Which one is it?? Are you concerned for my health or do you want to spoil me!?”
“I don’t know!” Jimin snaps back, his breathing seemingly a little quickened too. Sweat dripping from his furrowed brow down the straight line of his nose. His eyes scan over Jungkook’s body for a monet before limiting themselves on his face.
The older’s expression softens. “I’m…I’m sorry. I stepped way out of line.” He shakes his head, and it's his turn to use the scorching heat as an excuse to cover his blush. “I was just saying what I thought was right.” He mumbles looking aside. “I like spoiling you.”
That seems to settle Jungkook’s inner fire alone. “Even if I'm getting too fat?” He asks, a shy smile tugging at his face.
“Especially now.” Their eyes lock, time stopping for a moment as Jungkook’s heart threatens to leap out of his chest.
“H-Help me up. Let's get out of here.” He doesn’t think he has the mental capacity to process that under 50°C temperature.
Jimin nods urgently, standing up for his sweaty hands to clasp around Jugkook. Maybe the sauna wasn’t so bad.
i refuse to give up. im finishing this goddamn thing BY THE END OF THE WEEK.
tags: nsfw-ish , taehope , public space , clubbing , obese kim taehyung , attempted blow job
1.8k
AO3 LINK
People are surprised when they hear Taehyung likes clubbing. He gets it, he doesn’t look like the type.
His calm, introspective demeanor. His other hobbies, like reading, painting and the occasional photography.
And of course, Taehyung’s size.
Lucky for everyone, he really doesn’t take offense. And is more than happy to prove them wrong.
Of course, his friends have never really questioned Taehyung about it, he gets this mostly from acquaintances or the occasional classmate. Who assumes because he is the fattest person in the room he should want to hide away.
Could not be furthest from the truth.
Taehyung rests his elbows on the bar, leaning some of his weight onto the bar as he looks into the dancefloor. Excitement and alcohol buzzing through his body, seeing the place so crowded. Even by the bar, people are continuously making their way, maneuvering around Taehyung’s large body.
He can feel a smile stretching across his face already.
Taehyung loves taking up space. He is probably the biggest person in the club.
With a new wave of confidence, he throws back his head and chugs the rest of his drink. A loud “Ah…” leaves his lips, setting the glass down on the counter, and putting his hands on it to lift his weight back from leaning against the bar.
Let's do this.
The maneuvering around him gets more intense the moment he makes his way to the dancefloor. Naturally, there are more people. But it doesn’t stop there, the further he walks into the pit in the middle of the club, swaying his weight from side to side in a waddle, the more bodies press and brush against his.
It's only a few accidental strokes at first, people unable to avoid his flabby arms sitting at either side of his already wide frame. Then, goosebumps break on his lower back feeling bodies brush against the plump love handles sitting on his lower back, even the occasional hand brushing his ass.
And before he knows it, Taehyung is having to squeeze himself between dancing bodies. Belly getting caught in between people, his pliant sides squishing and molding like liquid in the tight space. Flushed chest to ass against strangers.
Heavenly.
Taehyung begins to dance without a care in the world, letting the overwhelming sensation around his body make him slick with sweat and happy with music. Feeling himself and enjoying the way his body mass shifts and ripples with the movement.
The rolls stacked on his waist deepen and lessen with each sway of his hips. Feeling different people’s elbows and shoulders sink into his body with each move, his belly and sides engulfing anything that tries to make way.
It's crowded, it's communal, feeling free even when his body feels physically trapped. He loves it.
Contrary to popular belief, Taehyung is very much a lightweight. It doesn’t take long for his drink to take a hold of the tension on his shoulders and melt it away. His movements become looser and easier. Body unconsciously starts to look for someone, smiling at strangers, and his eyes scanning the area.
Finding people paying attention to him isn’t the hard part. Taehyung draws attention to himself just being out and about. But he has become a master at the art of discerning people’s intentions with the way they look at him. Who is gawking fatphobically, and who’s interested.
Call him cocky, maybe he wouldn’t admit it if he weren’t drunk, but Taehyung has been skinny, fit, and fat and has remained hot the entire time.
That guy seems to think so too. A smile spreads on Taehyung’s face, winking at the startled twink that is standing still while the rest of his group laugh at him. Cute. Especially so when Taehyung gets a heart shaped smile in response.
He doesn’t doubt himself, Taehyung gently begins to guide bodies out of the way and waddling towards that smile. Confidence only growing when he sees the guy excuse himself from the group he came with, and begins to squeeze past the crowd to where Taehyung is.
Of course, he had to match with the guy at the opposite side of the club. Heavy breaths taking a hold of him, and worsening his ability to push through the crowd. And it doesn’t help that one of his hands has to take a break from nudging people out of the way to grip the hem of his shirt. It already started riding up his belly, but there’s now way for Taehyung to reach the bottom of his overhang and tuck it back in. This is just damage control.
Just because he knows he’s hot, doesn’t mean he likes looking a mess.
And yet, when the two strangers finally find each other. Heart-smile doesn’t seem to mind, if the way his eyes widened in awe are anything to go by.
“Hey… I’m Hoseok.” His voice is pretty, his smile downright breath taking up close.
“Taehyung.” He doesn’t bother with enticing small-talk. Not when the crowd pushes their bodies forward. Making Hoseok abruptly sink into the ample and soft expanse of Taehyung’s naked belly.
Both their eyes widened for a moment, Hoseok looking downright mortified for a second, hands finding stability right on Taehyung’s chest. His stability isn’t compromised, Hoseok feels light as a feather against him, but his hands reach to cup his slender waist. The way Hoseok looks down at Taehyung’s hands, then his body engulfing him, before he finally dares to meet his eyes, is priceless.
“Sorry.” They’re so close, Hoseok doesn’t need to speak up. His eyes wide and so pretty up at Taehyung.
“Don’t be. It's cramped in here, huh?” Their hands don’t leave each other’s spots on their bodies. Taehyung takes the courage to let his thumbs caress up and down in the dent of Hoseok’s waist. “I have a feeling we were going to end up like this anyways.” A confident smile stretches his lips and rounds out his face.
Hoseok seems taken aback, scoffing and looking away for a moment “You sound pretty confident.” Despite his daring tone, that heart-shaped grin stayed on his face.
“Hard not to be, you were eating me up across the club.” He raises an eyebrow, hands unconsciously squeezing Hoseok’s waist.
If he thought his smile was gorgeous, Taehyung wasn’t prepared for the up close view of Hoseok’s teeth sinking into his plump bottom lip. He doesn’t make an effort to look away, even when Hoseok speaks. “It's hard not to notice you.”
“I bet.” His smile widens. Thumbs finding their way under the stranger’s shirt, rubbing idly on the sweaty skin. “You came all the way here just to introduce yourself?”
The way his expression beams as he shakes his head should be illegal. Dazzling Taehyung from a close distance. “No.” Hoseok’s hands also begin to move, rubbing up and down his ample chest before they find their way around his neck. Giggling melodically over the loud music.
He is magnetic. Taehyung can’t help the way his face leans closer, needy for more. Their noses already brushing when Hoseok says. “I came for this.” Taehyung is barely able to make it out before he gets to feel the stranger’s hungry lips against his.
Feels like Hoseok is needy too. And he is quick to reciprocate, ravenous as he brings Hoseok’s body flush against his, impossibly so. Hoseok’s bottom lip tender under Taehyung’s teeth. Swallowing his moans.
It's becoming indecent by the time Hoseok separates, wheezing for air, hands still tugging at Taehyung’s hair, when he suggests they go to the bathroom. And in the back of his mind, Taehyung knows now would be the time to suggest it might not be the most comfortable fit for them. But after knowing the way Hoseok’s lips feel against his, he can’t go much longer without knowing how they feel around his dick.
So he lets himself be dragged to the back of the club, Hoseok’s body sliding through bodies easily, while Taehyung’s works sort of like an anchor. Only helping the tension grow between them, if the way Hoseok is looking at him when they finally squeeze their way out of the crowd is anything to go by. His eyes dart up and down his body, and Taehyung’s heart would skip a beat if it weren’t already stammering from the prolonged forceful walk.
“What?” He pants out with a confident smile, big hand squeezing Hoseok’s.
Without the crowd as an obstacle, Hoseok is able to tug Taehyung’s body forward with ease. “Just get inside.” He sounds agitated too, and it's not like he can blame his size for that the way Taehyung can.
Tension tugs at his stomach as he follows suit. Laughing giddy as they make their way into the bathroom.
Luckily not very crowded. The few men in the urinals will surely go away once they figure out what's going to happen.
Or not. Taehyung doesn’t care.
He’s too busy being guided to a stall. Hoseok has resorted to walking backwards, so as to not miss a second of Taehyung waddling his way into the bathroom. Taehyung’s belly wobbled closer and closer to Hoseok’s body with each step, unable to stay away from each other despite how much space.
By the time they’re standing in front of the stall, their lisp are close to brushing again. Hoseok’s grip tightens on the collar of his shirt and practically shoves him inside. Well, he tries to. Taehyung’s hips painfully pushed through the threshold, and continued to press against the walls even when his body made it inside. His side downright engulfed the box with toilet paper.
Hoseok marvels at the sight, eyes wide and gripping the threshold of the door like a rabid animal waiting to pounce. A smile stretches across Taehyung’s face, lowering himself onto the toilet, which only makes his frame widen. Rolls jutting out of his waist, thighs and ass swallowing the toilet seat. Not to mention, his belly pours onto his lap and in between his spread legs.
But when he looks up, Hoseok seems only more enticed. Combing through Taehyung’s hair as his knees begin to lower onto the floor. Dainty hands caressing down his saggy chest and the curve of his gut. They look at eachother, giddy smiles on both their faces.
He feels more than he can see, slender fingers groping his naked overhang and lifting it up. A gasp leaving Taehyung’s lips as he feels a palm press against his crotch. A shaky moan leaves his lips as his hands find solace in Hoseok’s shoulders.
And he knows he is just being edged, half lidded eyes watching the way Hoseok lowers his head, trying to find an angle to do this. Trying to reach Taeyung’s dick without his gut crushing his servicals. Or without shoving his face into the toilet seat.
Hell, they haven’t even figured out the logistics of how Taehyung is going to take off his hands yet.
He bites the bullet. “How about—How about we go to my place?” He breathes out, Hoseok’s face snaps up at him with wide eyes.
still enjoying these! lol, time as a concept. i dont wanna stop now that im only missing two fics, bare with me
tags: yoonmin , obese jimin , public place, humiliation , signs of immobility , coffee shop au
1k words
AO3 LINK
Jimin is a hard worker, he swears.
At least he used to be. Before his work became so hard. Or well, the job itself stayed the same, it's him who changed.
And his customers certainly aren’t doing it any easier for him.
He was already huffing before he heard the little bell by the door jingle. But Jimin’s sunny expression drops into a scowl when he sees who’s making his way inside.
Min Yoongi, the most insufferable out of all of the regulars at the bakery he works at.
It takes all of Jimin’s energy not to roll his eyes, but he still can’t help the way his nostrils flare with a deep inhale. Here they fucking go.
His supervisor gives him a look, a silent argument. Seokjin wants him to go offer the menu, Jimin knows it's pointless. Seokjin’s look severs, eyebrows reaching his hairline and eyes darting to Yoongi’s table. Where the customer is opening up his laptop and putting on his headphones.
A scoff leaves Jimin’s lips. “Fine.” He whispers, snatching a menu from the counter and pressing it to his chest. Even if Yoongi is playing dumb, eyes not leaving his screen, Jimin knows he is expecting him. He wishes he could say he is taking his time on purpose, but his waddling has gotten out of hand. And Yoongi always seems to sit in the furthest table available.
No one believes him, but he swears that Yoongi does it on purpose. Jimin can already feel his eyes rolling to the back of his head. He shouldn’t even be bringing this asshole a menu, he comes here often enough to know.
But, oh, Jimin has been working here long enough to know the horrors of Yoongi’s indecision. He is its main victim.
Only because he can feel Seokjin’s eyes on him, he forces a smile on his face. But Jimin’s act of rebellion is to make it painfully fake. “Good afternoon, Yoongissi.” The customer barely acknowledges him, headphones hanging around his neck. But he might as well have been listening to music by the amount of attention he gets.
Fine. Be like that. “I will just leave the menu here, call me when you’re ready.” He sets it down behind Yoongi’s laptop. The customer barely offered a nod, without even pretending to pick it up.
Jimin turns back around, and slowly begins his journey back to his designated space. Which just so happens to be the only place where he can lean against a wall without having his body obstruct the way for any of the other waiters or customers. He barely gets two steps in before the inevitable happens.
“Excuse me?” Yoongi calls out, and Jimin considers himself lucky to have his back facing the customer, so he can roll his eyes appropriately. Though when he tries to find Seokjin, to see if his boss is looking at the interaction about to happen, he sees him attending an 8 person table…
Guess it's every man for himself today.
Jimin takes his pause to plaster that same smile on his face as he turns back around. “Yes, Yoongissi?”
Of course, he waits until Jimin is back by his table. “I was wondering, could you make a salted caramel latte with two shots of espresso instead of one?”
“That would be no problem, is that what you’re ordering?” The sooner he gets it over with, the better.
“Oh no no, I was between that or the lavender matcha.” He does look up from his menu to Jimin, who has to force his eyes to squint with his smile.
“Two very different options.” He comments, since he doesn’t have anything to say. Jimin even makes sure to stand for an extra 5 seconds, giving Yoongi the chance to order and end his suffering.
“I still haven’t decided what I’ll eat, I won’t keep you here. Go.” He chuckles softly. And Jimin could almost believe he is being genuine and considerate. As if.
He nods and begins to turn, trying to hurry his step as much as his tree-trunk thighs could allow. Maybe if he makes it back in time he can bother someone else-
“Jiminssi?” That same voice resonates. He stops in his tracks, but can feel his belly pushing forward with each heavy breath. Only hoping all this jostling hasn’t made his shirt ride up, hoping, because Jimin isn’t sure he could actually reach the bottom of his belly to tuck it back in.
He just turns around and doesn’t bother approaching his table. “Yes?” His voice goes up in pitch to try and hide his panting.
“The seasonal items aren’t in here.” He states simply. And if Jimin hadn’t forgotten his glasses at home this morning, he could swear Yoongi is pouting.
Jimin feels his jaw clench. “Well… we have our-”
“I can’t hear you.” And he doesn’t need his glasses to know, there's a smile on that customer’s face. Beckoning him closer.
If he keeps his hands by his hips it's purely to look authoritative, and most definitely not to keep his wobbling gut to bring his shirt up.
His authoritative tone severely hurt from the breathless tone of his voice. “W-we have some… some apple granola cookies, some pumpkin p-pie…” It doesn’t help that Yoongi’s eyes are distracting, piercing at him questioningly.
“Need a break?” He dares to ask, Jimin sends a fulminating look. Nostrils flaring, as his lips have to be sealed shut.
“I wouldn’t need one if I wasn’t traveling 5 times to the same table.” Jimin isn’t brave enough to say it to his face so he mumbles it out, looking to the other side.
“Isn’t that your job?” Yoongi’s eyebrow raises accusingly. “It’s not my fault the menu is incomplete.” He has a slight pout to his lips. Jimin isn’t swayed.
He dares to lean closer for what he is about to say, even if it means letting his belly sink into the edge of Yoongi’s table, and possibly press a little into the customer’s body. “You come here often enough to know.” His eyes squint. “You’re just trying to bother me.”
Yoongi doesn’t seem phased at all, a smile growing on his lips, eyes widened and daring. “Nobody will believe you.”
His body straightens up quickly. Because Yoongi is right.
Jimin would rather people think he is exaggerating about this regular’s intentions and indecision. Then for them to know his boyfriend is coming into his shift to belittle and humiliate him because Jimin finds it hot.
had a very rough week!! i thought i could maybe finish these by the end of march but here we are... i will see wether i want to finish the challenge or move onto other things hehe. but it was still fun!
tags: 2seok , hurt / comfort-ish , tight space , cramped in , public space , obese hoseok
2.6k words
AO3 LINK
Hoseok’s fists clutch at his hoodie. Bracing himself to go inside the store as other mall-goers maneuver around his body, stilled inside of the store.
Store that used to be his favorite before… He got too big for all his clothes.
He’s been avoiding the obvious need for a change of wardrobe for almost a year now. Buying as many things online as he could, and getting away with stretching his remaining clothes as much as humanly possible.
After a horrible breakup, where food had become his main source of comfort, and he went from chubby to straight up fat, Hoseok was running out of options. There’s only a handful of items of clothing he can purchase online with a guarantee of them fitting on his ever growing body. And it might seem superficial, but not having clothes was turning him into a hermit. As if his size wasn’t enough to shun him inside his apartment, having all his clothes squeeze his soft bits wasn’t encouraging him to leave the house much at all.
Jimin had to put a stop to it. “I’m not even asking you to go back on the dating scene. But you can’t keep hiding from public life.” He had said, and Hoseok wished he could believe him, that he wasn’t worth hiding.
His friend had offered to accompany Hoseok to buy clothes himself, give him a makeover. But actually that offer is what pushed him to go by himself; where he could have a breakdown all by himself, without having Jimin’s empathetic smiles and comforting words. Eugh, he’s become a bitter, unhappy person. Complaining about having a best friend that cares about him.
Annoyed at himself, he bites the bullet and begins to make his way inside the store. Trying to look like he knows what he is looking for, instead of just bumbling inside in a stroke of bravery. He makes the active effort to avoid the eyes of any employees as well as any other customers; Hoseok doesn’t need to compare himself to the size of the other people shopping here. Quickly busying himself in a graphic t-shirt rack.
It's not a plus size store, but for Korean standards, it's not too bad. Hoseok shopped here when he was chubby, and he got oversized fits. If there’s anywhere where he could find stylish clothes without completely segregating himself from the average sized folk, it's here. He manages to fish out a few shirts in XL that caught his eye. And he even manages to pick up two different pairs of pants. Just the fact that he manages to consider some of the clothes is a victory in his book.
He is still perusing when a voice startles him from behind. “Excuse me sir, would you like me to separate these in a changing room for you?”
As if the sudden interaction hadn’t made him jump already, the fact that the most handsome man was standing behind him is enough to make Hoseok’s heart begin to stammer in his chest.
“O–Oh…I think… I think this is all I’m trying on.” He was on lap 3 of the store and he had already grabbed everything that looked remotely his size.
The dazzling employee only seems to perk up. Eyes shiny and lips plump, Hoseok has to catch himself from staring. “Perfect! Right this way.” He turns around and opens one of the changing room doors with a flourish. Hoseok actually feels a smile tugging at his lips. The staff here isn’t as intimidating as he had feared; most stores in Korea wouldn’t want to encourage people Hoseok’s size to shop at their establishment.
But that smile quickly drops when he makes it to said changing room, this store might be inclusive enough to welcome Hoseok in, and have a few clothes in his size. But the size of the changing room definitely isn’t welcoming Hoseok in the slightest. Looking like it would barely allow him room to turn around, let alone bend over to try on some pants…. Or take off his shoes.
His eyes dart to the staff unsurely. The poor guy can only offer a sympathetic smile back. “My name Seokjin, if you need anything just call, okay?” His tone shouldn’t be so soft. Eyes glued to Hoseok as he begins to walk into the claustrophobic space. His belly only 10 centimeters away from brushing the mirror. And it's obvious Seokjin can tell the situation the customer is in, eyebrows pinched up in worry as their eyes meet in the mirror. “Anything at all.” He adds.
Hoseok for a moment considers it: asking if there’s anywhere bigger where he could change. Embarrassment stops him almost as soon as that thought pops into his head. “Thank you, Seokjin.” He says instead, timid smile on his face.
Though, as soon as Seokjin closes the door, securing Hoseok inside, he realizes truly just how much smaller the room is now that he is inside. The attentive employee luckily had hung Hoseok’s clothes on the hanger, within his reach. He doesn’t know what he would have done if he had set it in the little stool that’s currently blocked from his line of sight by his gut.
Like this, he at least has enough breathing room to strip his shirt. Even if the simple movement sends his gut rattling against the cold glass. Elbows brushing the walls as he pulls his shirt up. He has to make an active effort to ignore it, this is fine. However, it's harder to ignore when, as he slips the shirt he wants to try on, his arms barely have any room to tug at the hem to cover the entirety of his belly. Forearms and the back of his hand pressed against the mirror.
Trying to back away only makes Hoseok’s ample ass press against the wooden door. He can even feel the door handle sink into the chub of his lower back. And its not like he even gets that much more room.
Fuck.
The sooner he tries everything on, the sooner he gets to leave, he nods to himself quickly stripping the new shirt off. Making the active effort not to think about how he is going to turn around and get out. It fits him fine, though the hem clings to his overhang, lifting it up a few centimeters before it slaps against Hoseok’s crotch when he takes it off just as quickly. He isn’t bothering to check himself in the mirror, even standing against the door doesn’t give Hoseok’s line of sight any view of what the shirt looks like below the shelf of his belly.
If it fits, it's good enough, he supposes. Hoseok is just relieved to be able to find fitting clothes here, and not have to go to the big & tall store yet. Though he suspects he would find much better options there.
It's a pride thing. No one wants to be the one who got fat after a break up.
Yet here he stands, nearly trapped within the four walls of this changing room. And he still hasn’t tried on the pants he picked out. A lump forms in his throat, hands tentatively out of his line of sight but reaching underneath his gut to where the waistband of his sweatpants currently sits: nestled between his overhang and the ever increasing fat pad that sits on top of his dick.
The garment is outstretched enough that it doesn’t resist when sliding down his legs. Still, Hoseok has to bend over a little to finish pushing it down his thighs, in so pressing most of his bare ass against the cold door, as his belly spills onto his legs. Leaving him squished into a sitting position. The door surges forward under the weight the slightest bit. Hoseok almost loses his balance.
Though, it's not like there’s much room for him to fall anywhere. With one hand on the glass, he lifts himself up with a grunt; he wishes he could blame the cramped situation he is in, but lately he’s been huffing and puffing whenever he needs to lift up his body. Hoseok catches his chest rising and falling in deep breaths in the mirror.
Worst part hasn’t even started yet.
He grabs one of the pants he wanted to try on, and blindly lowers them underneath his belly, to never be seen again. Body leaning against the wall to be able to lift his leg… And blindly try to get the stubborn tree-trunk of an extremity aim into the leg hole. Mobility so limited his knee brushes against the glass. Lifting it up is such an effort in itself, that its movements are hurried, and make his entire body jiggle; especially his belly, which is resting against his lifted thigh.
Frustration is bubbling inside him, but when he looks down, all Hoseok sees is his own flabby chest, jiggling against his shirt. Shirt that he can feel slowly riding up his wobbling gut. The naked skin of his overhang slapping against his thigh, and making more of his skin be revealed under the shirt.
Shirt that he was just trying on.
“Fuck!” He grunts leg slamming hevaily against the floor. Sending ripples in all his body, and within the claustrophobic walls of this changing room.
He doesn’t even know how he will manage to get the sweatpants he came on with again, without needing to open the door. And flashing everyone. His face is already scrunching up in a wince, this was such a mistake-!
“Is everything alright in there?” The quiet voice speaks from the other side of the door. In his panic, Hoseok manages to recognize it as the voice of that smiling employee that guided him to this death trap.
“I–I just…” He doesn’t realize how out of breath he is until he tries to formulate a sentence. Anxiety jumbling up his words.
He’s just what?
Too fat for this enclosed space?
“Sir?” The concern in his voice makes Hoseok almost feel bad for the situation he is in.
He needs help but…
“Is it just the two of us?” He asks instead of answering, an unsure tremble in his voice. “I… I just need more room.” Is all Hoseok can muster up to say without completely humiliating himself. Though that's about to change.
“It's just us.” Seokjin’s tone replies softly. “Should I open the door?”
There’s a moment of consideration. Before Hoseok finds himself nodding. “Please.”
His eyes instinctively close as he feels the door against him, bracing himself for the humiliation. And it's just as bad as she imagined, when he meets Seokjin’s wide eyes and blushed expression in the changing room mirror. Knowing fully well his ass is in full display in front of him, probably sticking out the door; swallowing his underwear.
Right, he should probably turn around.
Feeling the bunched up fabric of his sweats underneath his feet, Hoseok takes slow steps turning around. Barely able to move his legs from the enclosed space aside from the slow swaying it takes for him to turn around.
Nothing could have prepared Hoseok for the sight before him. Seokjin’s expression widened completely, eyebrows pinched at the bridge of his nose, and eyes open in what can only be described as a mix of awe and pity. Jaw set tight probably to avoid his plump lips from dropping open. Body frozen, hand still gripping the handle. The only thing moving are his eyes, that glaze over Hoseok as if trying to assess what to do with this customer, while his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
Hoseok can feel his face heat up. It's been so long since he’s gotten any kind of attention. Let alone in such a vulnerable position. “U–Uhm…” Seokjin’s voice brings his train of thought to a halt. “W–would you like me to fetch those for you?” His voice is so polite but the nerves in his voice show through.
Hoseok has to look down to where the employee's finger is pointing at, twist his torso, and grab some of his hip to push in to be able to see. The discarded pants he failed to try on. He snaps back up and nods. “Thank you…” Is barely above a whisper.
A smile brightens up Seokjin’s face, nodding quickly as he crouches and reaches into Hoseok’s space. Panicked, he tries to make room as best as he can. Which at his size means to have one leg out, letting his ass sink into the threshold of the door. Belly still jutting forward and obstructing most of the entrance anyway.
Seokjin doesn’t comment on it, squeezing himself inside, except there’s not enough room for half of Hoseok’s body and anything else. So he stays there, pressed against the threshold as he bends over and outstretches his arm to the discarded pants. A nervous smile on his face as he hands them over to Hoseok.
“Here-here you go.” Hoseok has to force himself not to cringe as Seokjin slides out of the tight press of his belly against his slender body. He stands back, smile understanding as ever. “I will make sure no one steps into the changing rooms.” Nodding to himself, Seokjin walks to the end of the hallway.
An emotional breakdown is crawling its way out of Hoseok’s chest. Eyes piercing into Seokjin’s broad back as he feels his eyes begin to sting.
Whatever. The sooner he tries them on, the sooner he can leave. A sharp inhale makes his nostrils flare, closing his eyes as he bends over and begins to put on the pair of pants he picked out. Now bending over and letting his body out of the changing room, while his ass stays facing the mirror.
Already, as the fabric begins to slide up his legs, Hoseok knows they won’t fit. Feeling the tight embrace of the cloth, the seams along his inner thighs of the pants sinking into his chub. His eyes close and his face scrunches up.
He knows they won’t fit, and yet, he finishes pulling them up. Not needing to check to know the two flaps of the pants sit a good 10 centimeters apart from one another, divided by his gut protruding out.
All this mess and embarrassment, just for a pair of pants that won’t fit. His eyes open, seeing himself in the mirror of the empty changing room in front of him, catching sight of the issue.
Whatever strength was holding him together, cracks when Hoseok meets his own eyes in the mirror. Chin bunching up and bottom lip jutting out. Vision blurring before he can do anything to stop it, a hand preventively goes to his mouth to cover up his cries. But can’t do much to stop it.
Seokjin doesn’t seem to notice at first. “How did it go?” The question dies in his mouth as he looks over his shoulder. Widening and rushing to Hoseok’s side. “Hey…” He whispers witha tentative hand on his shoulder.
“I–I’m sorry… I’m sorry it's just… It’s been a while.” He begins to explain in between sniffles and quiet sobs. “I used to shop here all the time but now…” A wet, sad chuckle leaves his lips, shaking his head. No need to explain.
“These are a bit small…” Seokjin’s tone is far too gentle to be saying something so devastating. “But I can look in the back, or even place an online order for a bigger size?” A little smile grows on his face, nodding gently.
He is shaking his head before the employee is even done with his suggestion. “I don’t think I have the will power to try any other clothes.” A tired laugh leaves his lips. “And I don’t fit into the changing rooms.”
“F-fair.” Seokjin’s gaze goes down. “If there are any pants, I’ll save them for you. In case you change your mind.”
“Can you do that?”
“No.” Seokjin looks back up, smile brighter than ever. Followed by a wink.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Day 6- Taehyung
Namjoon notices three things after his roomate Taehyung starts drinking protein shakes. First, Taehyung must be buying in bulk because he never sees the younger man without a bottle. Second, he quickly realizes Taehyung isn’t going to the gym. Or well…he is going but he’s not going nearly enough to justify three protein shakes a day.
And finally third, Taehyung is getting fat and shows no signs of stopping anytime soon
Anyone saying they miss the old bts HAVE NOT BEEN HEARING BTS this album is so authentic to everything theyve been doing idc 🥳🥳 COPE AND SELL YOUR CONCERT TICKETS
Omega Prince Jimin has yet to find a suitable alpha to mate. Each suitor has been worse than the last…that is until Alpha Prince Taehyung comes along and changes his whole perception about courting.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Day 4- Hoseok
Hoseok believes he can solve all his boyfriend’s dieting woes. He’s always believed Jimin was just exaggerating about his terrible metabolism, so he decides to put it to the test. For six weeks he’ll swap metabolism with Jimin and figure out the perfect diet for him.
arirang already came out... i am a changed person you guys. i cant believe bts is back. i cant stop listening to arirang
tags: namgi , obese yoongi , college professors , those student chairs that have a desk attached at the side, tight spaces
1.9k
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A lot of professors would dread giving classes Friday night. But Yoongi finds the laid back atmosphere really nice.The university is so quiet, it feels like a private club.
Besides, he enjoys knowing for a fact that his students are there because they find his class enjoyable and interesting, despite the late hours.
And maybe a lot of his colleagues are free at this time too… That's a plus.
The first few times Namjoon walked in at the middle of his lecture to sit at the far back, Yoongi couldn’t help but stiffen. Of course he knows the Art History teacher always had an interest in music, having asked Yoongi so many questions about his class of Music & Psychology. It's most likely he was staying late grading and saw Yoongi’s class still going on.
But, still, Yoongi felt so big under Mr. Kim’s attentive stare.
Even if his size is getting impossible to ignore, any time of day.
He still moves around the classroom, makes a conscious effort to do so. Yoongi is willing to bet, it's his only form of movement during the day, and it shows. With his slow waddles from one end of the white board to the other. Fatty arm wibbling inside the sleeve of his button up as he drags his marker across in messy handwriting, sore if he holds it up for too long.
Yoongi knows he has incredible air control, able to speak loudly for long periods of time without getting a sore throat. But as of late, his voice comes out a little winded when he speaks in the middle of walking. Oftentimes needing to concentrate in stopping the overhang of his belly that slaps against his thighs from riding up his sweaters.
His desk has a chair that he doesn’t trust himself to squeeze out of. Besides, he uses his whiteboard too much for the effort of sitting down and getting up again to seem worthy. He rather pushes through the growing soreness on his ankles. Plus, he has a pretty sturdy desk he likes leaning against, ample, wide ass sinking against the edge, easing some of the strain from his lower back from having to haul his gut around the classroom. While also getting to catch his breath momentarily.
He can’t help but wonder if Namjoon picks up on all of this. How out of shape he is. How differently Mr. Kim’s classes must be with the tall, broad professor…
Then again, Yoongi is sure everyone notices he is obese. And tries his best not to give his little crush on his colleague get too in the way of the lecture. Not even if Namjoon stays after hours, as Yoongi cleans up. Making him extend the period of time he has to stay on his feet before plopping onto his car.
But it becomes harder once Mr. Kim starts making a routine of stopping by Yoongi’s class. Even making an effort to show up on time and coming in with the rest of his students. He isn’t sure if it's allowed for professors to take their colleague’s classes, but he is certainly not going to tell Namjoon anything that could make him stop from showing up.
Though the hardest part is not looking like a total blob during their conversations after hours. Their conversations are so insightful and interesting, Namjoon always comes to him with doubts and comparisons based on his own field of expertise. So eager to exchange knowledge and looking at Yoongi like he has the most interesting point of view in this world. All the meanwhile, he has to secure his grip onto the desk because it's the only thing holding him up. Legs too tired and eager to sit down, breathing labored even despite not moving.
He feels closer to Namjoon than ever before. What was once more a workplace far-away crush solidifying itself with every new piece of information he gets to know about the once mythical Mr. Kim. Even the embarrassing bits, that strive away from the professor’s rich introspections about the subject of Yoongi’s class that night. But simultaneously, he feels like the more Namjoon sees of him, the further Yoongi is pushing him away.
Not that he thinks Namjoon ever doubted he was fat. It's obvious to the untrained eye. But it feels all the more obvious when the taller professor is standing next to Yoongi, work clothes looking snug on Mr. Kim, just like Yoongi’s; except they hug two completely different bodies.
Namjoon’s chest looks snug in all his turtlenecks, highlighting their round shape; sometimes even letting his nipple peek through if Yoongi hasn’t turned the heating on. But they fit loosely down his torso, easily tucked into his slacks. Slacks that hug his thigh when he sits down, and Yoongi has to remind himself not to stare. His arms bulge from the fabric of everything he is wearing when they’re crossed around his chest, sometimes in an attempt to hide the hardened little bud that pushes out.
In fact, that's what they were doing right now. Probably because Yoongi had been staring.
It's not his fault he is in the perfect line of sight for them.
Though, he is willing to admit… Lately those little slip ups have been happening more often. And Namjoon hasn’t been doing anything to stop them.
“So?” Mr. Kim smiles, still friendly as ever but with a twitch of his eyebrow.
It's no question, Yoongi is not admitting to ogling his very sweet and friendly colleague. So instead he chuckles and ducks his head. “Sorry… I’m getting kind of tired.” It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth. Plus, Yoongi is dreading it will put an end to their conversation.
Namjoon’s expression impossibly softens. “You know, you could sit down if you needed.” His tone is whispered and gentle. All too aware of how Yoongi probably feels right now.
His eyebrows raise, shocked to even be talking about how clearly out of shape he is. But Namjoon’s voice lowers to a register so deep when he whispers, he can’t bring himself to push the professor away.
“I… I don’t think I fit in the desk chair.” He confesses out loud. Soothing his own anxieties of talking about this are bittersweet, Namjoon knows he is fat, he isn’t saying anything his colleague doesn’t know. But… ultimately, Yoongi has no chance with Mr. Kim.
Namjoon tries his best to hide his shock. And Yoongi tries his best not to be hurt by it. But the taller professor purses his lips and seems to consider his next response. “What about sitting in a student’s chair?” The smile he offers is shy.
And Yoongi’s refusal is already half his lips when he sees the desks in question… He’s definitely had some students on the bigger side of things. Maybe he does fit.
“Being a student in my own class?” He says instead, chuckling as he grunts and lifts his weight from where it was leaning against the wooden desk. Already making his way to the chair, thighs rubbing together with his waddles.
Yoongi tries his best to ignore the way Namjoon makes way for him, not only stepping aside but pushing back some of the surrounding desks around the one Yoongi had selected as his victim. It's even harder to ignore the fact those were all necessary measures, he wouldn’t have fit otherwise. In class he knows better than to try to squeeze himself in between the rows of desks in class, and drag his ass across a poor student’s laptop.
Maybe he is misremembering just how big those students were, because now that he is standing right in front of the chair, it looks almost comically small. But he shouldn't have to worry about getting stuck, there's only one armrest on the side that holds up the desk barely a meter away from the backrest of the chair… Shouldn’t be a problem right?
He takes a moment to calculate his next movement, it doesn’t help that he can feel Namjoon’s eyes digging a hole into his back. God, he knows he looks huge from the back.
Chubby fingers grip the backrest, as he slowly, and as gracefully as he can, begins to lower himself and tries to angle his ass into that miniscule seat. Already a lost battle as he can feel his hip sink into the one armrest, a single one of his thighs occupying most of the seat, leaving almost no option for his other one than to spread outwards. Feeling his love handles engulf the sharp plastic edge of the backrest where his back overspills from the side.
A sigh of relief leaves his lips. It's a tight fit. Yoongi will definitely have to worry about how he will get out of his chair. But his ankles exhale relieved of the immense pressure of his body weight.
“Better?” Namjoon seems taller than ever, still standing and leaning against one of the chairs. Dimples only accentuated by the overhead light.
Yoongi smiles embarrassed. “Definitely.” He says, but it's only partially true.
Avoiding the fat elephant in the room: the way his gut is attempting to swallow the little desk propped in front of him. Shelf of his belly taking up real estate on the desk, rendering it useless. The wood slab sinking into Yoongi’s mass is not painful but incredibly claustrophobic. Whatever is left of his gut squeezed between the bottom of his desk and his thighs.
He can hear Namjoon begin to talk again, picking up from where they left off. And Yoongi wishes he could pay attention, but a grimace shows over his face as his hand struggles to reach around his body to his belly. Trying to adjust it out of the death grip the desk has on his poor rolls. Either his arm too fat and weak or his belly too heavy to be moved from its spot. The only thing easing him is to spread his thigh just a little bit more, letting the bottom of his belly sag between his legs.
Fuck his shirt is beginning to untuck from his pants. And everything is so tight he is sure the buttons will leave an indent on his belly.
“Yoongissi?” Namjoon’s smile is impossibly wider. Despite Yoongi’s completely zoning out. “Do you need to go somewhere more comfortable?”
Is he closer? It feels like he is closer. Making Yoongi throw his head further back to get a glimpse of Mr. Kim. Who towers over him.
“Like where?” His voice comes out quietly. Leaving his confession unsaid: is there even anywhere where he could comfortably fit?
“Theres a pretty good restaurant a few minutes from here.” Namjoon’s eyes look wider than they were before, his face its own shade of flushed. “You drive?”
Yoongi has to get over his momentary shock. Nodding quickly.
“Good. Then you’re taking us there.” He chuckles. Not giving Yoongi time to process what's happening before two big hands are holding onto his chubby ones and gently helping him slide sideways out of the chair.
“What about your car?” It's the first thing he thinks about asking, belly clinging to its grip on the edge of the desk before it slaps back to Yoongi sending ripples all over his body.
“Oh, I don’t have a license. I bike here.”
Yoongi’s still semi-stunned expression drops into a scowl. “Of course you do.” His hand finds a place on Namjoon’s chest, to push him aside and make way for his body to walk out. Playfully irritated as the implications of what's happening dawn on him…
i made the executive desition to think of time as a social construct. so i will just post these as i get them ready! and no one can stop me!!
tags: jinkook , obese seokjin , weight gain , humiliation , beginnings of immobility , fit boyfriend jungkook
1.8k
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Seokjin is nothing, if not a supportive boyfriend.
If Jungkook, his beautiful, absolute unit of a boyfriend, asks for more protein in their meals, to fit his macros, he adjusts his recipes! Happily.
Anything for his partner’s personal goals… If Seokjin gets to enjoy a buffer, tittier, Jungkook, that is just a small bonus.
Though, he might be too focused on Jungkook’s goals to focus on his own, or lack thereof.
Or maybe, Jungkook had a selfish vendetta of his own.
He should have known, Seokjin is much more sedentary than Jungkook, or, better said, he avoids exercise.
You could say he is very active about that. Lol.
Seokjin has no reason to be eating 160 grams of protein a day. He should have made himself an alternative, several. Because now his boyfriend isn’t the only one getting bigger.
It’s just… the kind of bigger Seokjin is becoming is far different from his weightlifter boyfriend. While Jungkook’s body fat percentage decreases, despite getting heavier, Seokjin’s is skyrocketing.
He isn’t stupid, of course he noticed. He also noticed the way the enthusiasm for their changing bodies was mutual. After all, Jungkook is getting stronger every week, and better at handling all of Seokjin’s mass.
Hell, he is even willing to bet Jungkook takes it as a challenge. Especially once Seokjin begins to teeter on the edge of… properly fat. And they’re no longer both XLs, since he has to size up. That only seems to make Jungkook more ravenous for his boyfriend.
Hands rougher as they work him up, Seokjin’s skin conveniently more sensitive than ever, and his squeaks just as loud as Jungkook manhandles him to either sit on the counter, or tries to carry him to the nearest surface. His grunts animalistic with effort and arousal as his hands sink into the increasing girth of Seokjin’s thighs. Already panting by the time he sets Seokjin down, but grinning pleased with himself and his lover.
How could Seokjin stop himself when he is being so encouraged? All he can do is scold Jungkook into making sure he is carrying Seokjin with proper technique. But it's not like he can know for sure, he doesn’t know what a “dead-lift” is.
So what if Seokjin is fat? His stomach sagging over the waistband of his pants, unless it's tucked in. His own pecs grown into full breasty-like mounds of fat. Rolls stacked on his waist and ass spilling over the waistband of his pjs. His arms fatty and unfit and his face rounded to perfection, plump double chin proudly under his jaw, and cheeks making his eyes crinkle when his smiles and his lips poutier and more irresistible. Jungkook loves it, and Seokjin has become quite used to overindulgence.
If Seokjin was already lazy before, all this extra pillage was only making his aversion for movement worse. Working remotely, and getting absolutely spoiled by his boyfriend whenever he’s home… Seokjin didn’t have many excuses to move then, now he’s become completely sedentary.
The most time he spends standing up is when he’s cooking.
And lately… even that's started to feel like a lot.
They’re cuddled in the couch, nestled perfectly into the dent both of their bodies create on their couch. At some point, Jungkook would be the one to sink into the cushions and Seokjin… well Seokjin was a twink.
Now he has to set his hands on his knees to haul his body up from the couch, a grunt leaving the back of his throat as he feels Jungkook’s eye set on his backside. ” And he confirms it when he turns over his shoulder to smile down at his boyfriend, who has a pleased smile drawn over his face. Probably from noticing the way all of the folds in Seokjin’s side deepen.
“I’ll get started on dinner.” He says, instead of commenting on the growing arousing tension between them.
It's more fun that way, having Jungkook turn his head and follow the slow pace of Seokjin’s waddle into their kitchen. Where Seokjin’s own workout is about to start.
As he mentioned, his walking was reduced to a slower, more limited, swaying. Shifting his weight side to side, his belly oscillates along with each step, and it slaps against his pelvis. The movement constantly threatened to make his shirt ride up from where Seokjin had tucked it inside his sweatpants. But it's not like his belly is entirely to blame, all of his body bounces and ripples when he walks, plump girthy lovehandles causing the same effect on the back of his shirt too.
He doesn’t feel winded by the time he gets to the counter, though that might be because Seokjin is in a perpetual state of heavy breathing.
Tonight's menu is creamy protein pasta with chicken. Already having optimized his course around the kitchen to do as little walking as possible he stops by the fridge, grabs his chicken breasts, cream, protein enhanced milk, cheese and onion. Acutely aware of the way his sweatpants feel restrictive whenever he has to lean down for any specific ingredient. Seams creaking in its typical empty threat.
That feeling is buried, however, under the warm press of his belly sagging down and pressing fully against his lap. Squishing out into the sides under the “squat” Seokjin is pulling to get the cheese that was weirdly stored at the bottom of the fridge. He is willing to suspect it has something to do with the big round eyes blaring at him from behind. Cute.
Using his belly for support, he holds all the ingredients against the shelf of his stomach and stands back up. Hip-bumping the fridge close and feeling his entire body rattle in response. Already, just setting everything on his counter, his underbelly takes a comfy sit on the cold surface. Seokjin can feel the little sliver of skin right in the middle, as his shirt begins to surrender its grip on his gut.
The battle is completely lost when Seokjin has to lift his arm up to the cabinet to pull the pasta out. Shirt riding up and settling much more comfortably in the dent of his sunken belly button; squished between two big rolls. The cold air that his chubby love handles makes shivers run up his spine. Or maybe is the chuckle he hears behind his back as it all happens.
He relishes in the growing tension, heart picking up in pace as he gets to filling the pot with water. “What's so funny?” Seokjin doesn’t have to turn around to know Jungkook is probably sat on the breakfast bar, ogling him.
“Nothing. I’m just really excited about dinner.” His tone isn’t convincing anyone, and it doesn’t have to. Seokjin smiles to himself as his chubby hands expertly peel and chop the garlic and green onion. Feel everything from his cheeks, to his arms, to his ass, jiggle with the quick motion. Not to mention, the way his fattened chest squishes together as his arms get closer to the vegetables.
By this point, he’s been standing for maybe a good… 4-5 minutes? And his body is beginning to remind him though. His feet not bothering to get up from the floor as he drags his steps from the sink to the stove, ankles already asking for a break. But it's not nearly as noticeable as the way his arms tremble trying to carry the pot full of water. Using, once again, the shelf of his belly as support, letting the edge of the pot sink into the pliant fat. As if seeing his feet wasn’t already impossible, now all Seokjin gets when he looks down is a reflection of his round face on the rippling water; thick double chin on full display.
The sigh of relief that leaves his lips once he sets it down is embarrassing. Almost as embarrassing as the way his body ripples with every motion. And what’s worse is, Seokjin isn’t nearly done with getting to sit down. Salting the water and putting it to boil before he has to waddle to start working on the sauce. Having to make his way forward and back from the stove again.
Ever since gaining all this weight, Seokjin went from being cold all the time, to being on the brink of overheating almost constantly. Which means he’s gotten into a love-hate relationship with the stove. The two flames at each of the stoves seemingly insignificant, but to him, they’re what finish reddening his face and make sweat cling to the corners of his face.
And it just heightens every other sensation, like the uncomfortable clinging of his shirts to the rolls on his sides, or the restrictive grip the fabric has on his sleeves; wing wobbling with the movement of his wrist on the spoon. Which only adds to the soreness blooming on his shoulder from stirring the creamy sauce in the pan. Not to mention, he can’t have his belly sitting on the stove, forcing his poor lower back to carry with the full weight of his gut, making his back arch forward and making the pliant, naked, fat of his overhang sink into the counter.
Seokjin can’t really tell when the transition happens. From his usual big-boy breathing to full on panting. Maybe somewhere on his trip from the counter to grab the pasta to rip the box open and waddling all the way back to pour it. One hand dipping the box forward while the other seeks support gripping the counter.
All while Jungkook does absolutely nothing. Seokjin turns his head to find his boyfriend’s eyes still fixated on him, head resting on his palm, enjoying himself.
“Do you… Do you mind watching over this? I need to sit down.” His words come out breathy and divided by his winded tone.
Jungkook’s smile only widens. “Oh, I’m actually kind of sore after my boxing class, hyung. Can’t you do it? You’ve been home all day…” Maybe that's the problem, Seokjin’s countless days spent at home doing nothing.
His resistance is nothing new, but it doesn’t stop from making Seokjin’s face redden. More than it already has with exertion. His boyfriend wants him to admit it, he’s gotten too fat to stand up while cooking.
“Isn’t that why you work out? To help your poor boyfriend?” There's a joking tone behind his words, but his embarrassment is just as palpable.
“I think my boyfriend got himself into this position.” The slow gaze Jungkook’s eyes do from the top to the bottom of Seokjin’s body is enough to make his knees buckle, as if the weight of his own body wasn’t already threatening to make his fattened legs give up.
That makes him chuckle. “Did I? You asked for these types of meals.”
“You just give in to everything I ask?” Jungkook retorts.
“I think it's obvious I don’t have the best self-control.” Seokjin sets a hand on his fattened hip both for emphasis and for support. Exhaustion getting the best of his resolve, his expression melts into a pout. “Please.” He adds.
Jungkook’s will is just as weak. Smiling softly. “I’ll go get you a chair.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Day 3- Yoongi
Yoongi had always been interested in the idea of weight gain. He never thought his fantasies would become a reality, that is until one Park Jimin makes all his wildest dreams come true.
