Double And Then Some - YoonKook(?)
Temporary immobility, stuffing, butter eating, big sizes, slight gas.
Yoongi loved food.
All food. Good, bad, mediocre.
As long as he could eat it, it was in his belly.
It wasn’t always like this, back when he was younger and had a better metabolism he would just pick at his food, not really interested in things like flavor or texture. But as soon as he hit age thirty, suddenly his appetite skyrocketed while his metabolism nose dived.
Now, over twice the size he used to be, with his lower belly, thighs and ass soaking up the majority of the weight, Yoongi couldn’t stop himself from eating everything put in front of him.
And boy did he always have food available, thanks to his younger culinarily inclined roommate, Jungkook.
The boy loved to cook and was even in school to become a pastry chef. So when he needed someone to eat his mistakes or left overs, he just put them within reaching distance of Yoongi and by the end of the hour they were digesting in his big doughy stomach, turning the empty calories into more and more fat cells ready to settle into his wide body.
Exams were coming up and Jungkook was practicing like crazy. Even Yoongi with his bottomless appetite and stretched out stomach could barely keep up.
Yoongi hiccupped as he felt his belly balloon even further, full of Jungkook’s never ending macaroons, eclairs and croissants. Today had been challenging for them both.
Jungkook, despite his perfect scores all year, was panicking over his dessert execution. And Yoongi was struggling to keep up with his roommates rejected batches.
Could he just put them in the fridge for later, give himself time to digest? Well, yes. But Yoongi was thinking with his taste buds at the moment so the thought never even crossed his mind.
The obese man sees food, food goes in belly. Simple as that.
Yoongi’s thick fingers shove more sugary desserts into his fat face, getting cream and crumbs all over his chins and shirt.
As the volume of food in his belly increased, so too did the strain of keeping up with the stream of baked goods. Yoongi broke out into a sweat, coloring his already dirty, too small T-shirt with sweat stains under his pits, neck rolls and flabby breasts.
He was struggling but the sheer volume of food in him formed a warm tingling sensation that only grew more pleasurable as he over indulged. His gut, when empty, was already large enough to more than cover his knees while sitting, now hung low only a couple inches away from both the hardwood floor and the pushed out coffee table as he stuffed it further.
His huge thighs were pushed apart in an attempt to make room for his pendulous belly to grow, but their sheer size made it so that they still touched no matter how wide he split them apart. The insides of where his thighs and crotch met was perpetually rubbed red from the friction of waddling around while being so fucking overweight.
Yoongi knew he was out of control, but he just couldn’t stop himself anymore. Food tasted so good, being stuffed felt so good, growing bigger made him feel happy.
Last he had weighed himself, he was creeping up on five hundred pounds. Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder if he’d hit that milestone yet. Or maybe even passed it?
“Here, Hyung! I totally fucked these up, I accidentally put double the sugar into them cause I wasn’t thinking.” Jungkook placed a bowl of thick frosting in front of Yoongi on the coffee table. “I’ve gotta go check the cake in the oven and make a new batch. Enjoy!”
Yoongi couldn’t even get a word in before the younger man was off like a shot back into the kitchen.
Mentally shrugging, he eagerly reached for the bowl of frosting but-
He couldn’t reach it.
Jungkook had placed it too far away from him. Probably because the side tables that were easier to reach were all covered with empty and dirty dishes.
Yoongi huffed in annoyance before rocking his large wobbling body back and forth before attempting a second reach.
His chubby fingers graze the edge of the bowl before the bulk of his bloated gut forced his out of shape body back into a reclined position.
That’s fine then, he’ll just stand up and grab it.
Gripping the right side of the two person couch his lower half now completely filled up, Yoongi rocked a few times again before gaining the momentum to stand up.
Except instead he plopped back down on the couch causing it to creak ominously.
A loud belch was jostled out of him from the impact, startling himself.
What?
He was stuck?
Yoongi had eaten too much food it seemed and was so full and heavy that his center of gravity changed temporarily. Standing seemed to be impossible without assistance for now.
Time to call in reinforcements.
“Jungkook! Kookie! I need you for a bit!”
Yoongi felt kind of pathetic, having to beg his younger roommate to help his fat ass grow fatter. But that frosting, so thick it looked like play dough, was calling to him.
“What, Hyung?! I’m a little busy right now!”
“I can’t reach the frosting, I’m too fat!”
In for a penny, in for a pound.
It took a couple minutes but Jungkook eventually made his way back to the living room. He blinked a couple times as he looked, really looked, at his roommate for the first time in months.
“Oh wow, you’re not kidding… since when did you get so big?”
Yoongi gave him a flat expression. How did the kid not realize Yoongi had blown up over the last few months of his kitchen experiments?
“Since you started freaking out about finals. Now help me get the frosting, I’m starving.”
It wasn’t true. Yoongi was stuffed to the brim with sugar, his upper belly rock hard, sensitive and flushed pink, but his brain told him he needed more, more, more.
Jungkook poked and prodded various parts of Yoongi’s fat body, as if inspecting the damage his cooking did to his Hyung.
“Wow, your tits are bigger than my ex-girlfriend’s!”
“Aish, enough of that you brat.” Yoongi swatted his hand away from pinching his perpetually hard nipples. “Make yourself useful and give me the frosting already.”
“Fine, fine. Here you go.”
Now with the mixing bowl in hand, Yoongi didn’t even bother with the spoon Jungkook handed him and began eating the frosting with his chubby hands.
The frosting really was dough like from all the extra sugar. Very convenient if you asked Yoongi.
Jungkook watched in amusement and vague disgust as his older roommate made a pig of himself. Yoongi’s chins and jowls made his breathing sort of sound like snorting, so the comparison wasn’t inaccurate.
Yoongi suddenly moaned, his belly slowly extending further towards the floor.
Wow thats weird. Jungkook stared.
“Do… do you want more?” Jungkook offered hesitantly.
Yoongi grunted what Jungkook assumed was an affirmative.
Soon the bowl was empty and Yoongi’s stomach was screaming at him in both pain and pleasure.
He trembled from the pressure in his belly, damn he needed a belly rub…
“Jungkook! Where are you?!” Yoongi realized his audience was gone. “I need you to rub my stomach.”
Jungkook popped out around the corner with a platter of what looked like… sticks of butter? “Gross Hyung. You know I’m not gay.”
“It’s not gay.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Just rub my- wait, what’s that?”
“Butter.”
“I know, dummy, but what are you doing with it?”
Jungkook smirked. “Feeding it to you!”
Yoongi paused and thought about it. He was already morbidly obese and unhealthy in a multitude of ways. He logically knew that eating the butter would wreck havoc on his system at best, but would consuming pure fat taste good? He needed to know.
“Fine. You can feed me the butter.”
“Hell yeah!”
“Why are you so excited about this? You’re not like, getting off on this are you?” Yoongi felt a little like a hypocrite by accusing him of that, when he himself found an odd sort of pleasure from this.
“Nah, I don’t swing that way, and even if I did you’re more like a brother to me than anything. I’m just curious. Never seen anyone eat straight butter before!”
Yoongi attempted to cross his arms, but the flabby limbs were too large to fully cross so he gave up.
“Fine, but you have to rub my belly as you feed me, or I won’t let you.”
“Deal.”
They shook hands on it.
What followed was the most erotic thing Yoongi had ever experienced.
Jungkook expertly kneaded his immense spread of belly fat like it was the bread dough he made every day. His fingers were dexterous, so similar to how Yoongi’s used to look hundreds of pounds ago. Yoongi grunted and groaned between the burps that Jungkook massaged out of him.
Good, he’s making room for the butter. Jungkook thought, mostly unbothered by the gas.
It was only after Yoongi’s flushed face turned red after he let out an unexpected rumbling fart that Jungkook decided he’d made enough room for the ten sticks of butter to enter his friend.
“Here you go, Hyung. The first one.”
Yoongi obediently opened his mouth for the first stick and took a bite out of the offered treat. Half the stick was now in his mouth, melting. It was salted butter it seemed. Yoongi would need a drink to wash it all down soon.
Chewing butter was weird, he decided. It was hard, mushy and slimey all at once. The experience should have ended there, with his curiosity. But the grossness of the butter was soon pushed to the back of his mind as he swallowed. The fatty bar had mostly turned to liquid in his mouth, and as the grease slid down his gullet Yoongi’s brain couldn’t help but wonder just how much fatter the entire tray would make him?
He suddenly, desperately wanted to find out.
“So, how is it?”
“Greasy.” Yoongi said. “Now gimme more, I’m hungry.”
Jungkook laughed before feeding him the rest of the first stick.
It went down faster this time, as Yoongi was more focused on the action of eating than the sensation or experience.
The next two bars were eaten in a similar manner, liquid butter was dribbling out of the corners of his mouth and down into the rolls of his neck.
Jungkook was in awe of his obese Hyung. He wasn’t really into fat dudes, but something about feeding Yoongi pure fat and playing with his gelatinous gut like this kinda felt nice. Therapeutic?
Was force feeding your already fat roommate literal lard considered a war crime? He wondered deliriously.
Yoongi was now taking three bites per stick by the fifth one. He slowed down in his gluttony as his belly filled up once more.
It hurt again now, and the hiccups came back.
“M-Moh behry -hic!- wubs… pleashe.” Yoongi slurred while chewing the sixth stick of butter
Jungkook didn’t need to say anything as he held the seventh stick up to Yoongi’s plush lips with one hand and pressed into his doughy belly again with the other.
Yoongi moaned, sweating hard now as he slurped up the seventh stick and swallowed with minimal chewing.
It wasn’t even about curiosity anymore.
Yoongi just needed to eat. To consume. To put more calories into his body.
Whatever it took.
Eyes half lidded, Yoongi grunted something unintelligible at Jungkook and suddenly the eighth stick of butter was in his mouth.
He automatically chewed and swallowed, butter squirting out of his greasy lips and onto his ruined shirt.
Jungkook dabbed his palm into the butter stain and used the grease to better rub Yoongi’s belly with. The older man was filling up even more than he was before he started rubbing. Peaking down to where his massive belly hung over the couch, Jungkook saw only a couple centimeters of space sat between the cold flooring and the saggy bottom of Yoongi’s gut.
Jungkook grinned, something nasty in him stirring. He wanted them to make contact so badly. To see the look on Yoongi’s face when he realizes just how massive he’d grown. To know how far gone he is.
The ninth stick took four bites, the globs of fat mushing in between his teeth.
Yoongi panted and moaned in discomfort. His thick arms hugged the sides of his belly, too fat and too short to reach around the mountain of his gut.
He tried to press his hands into the sides of his beanbag sized belly but he was so fat that all he could do was squish it around uselessly.
Giving up, he set his palms onto the sides of his vastly bloated thighs and began squeezing them for comfort.
Jungkook watched greedily as his Hyung groped himself desperately, snorting and moaning and sweating like a pig.
It was strangely exhilarating knowing that it was his own doing that made him into this. This obese hog of a man.
The tenth and final stick of butter breached Yoongi’s lips slowly, sensually.
Half way through the stick Yoongi started shaking.
He quivered as he palmed and gripped at the sides of his beyond swollen gut, unable to do anything to help the sensation of pure fullness.
The last bite he let sit in his mouth until it was fully liquid. Yoongi then let the butter trickle down his throat, letting gravity do the work he himself couldn’t anymore.
Ten sticks of butter.
Downed.
Jungkook stared in awe as Yoongi gasped and squirmed before freezing, a shocked expression on his fat face.
“Wha-?” Yoongi’s hazy eyes widened. “What’s that feelin’? M’ belly’s cold…”
Jungkook threw himself to the floor and ducked his head.
There it was, the bottom of Yoongi’s flab had finally rested itself on the cold, hard floor. Jungkook excitedly popped back up.
“You got so big, Hyung! Your belly’s touching the floor!”
Yoongi froze, reality crashing over his fucked up state of mind.
He was a super morbidly obese, temporarily(?) immobile, gluttonous excuse of a man, who’s belly has sagged so low that it has now begun to rest on the floor.
His cheeks reddened as hot humiliation flooded his butter filled system. Fuck he was so fat.
“Don’t worry, Hyung, I've decided that even if you become immobile, I’ll help you out.” Jungkook couldn’t help but offer. “You won’t have to lift a finger!”
Did Yoongi want that though? His temporary immobility was one thing, but the way that Jungkook was talking it felt like he was aiming for something more permanent?
Whatever it was, Yoongi no longer had the self control to say no.
“M’kay.” He mumbled.
“I'd prefer a yes or no from you, Hyung.”
Yoongi’s eyes glistened as he wiggled in place attempting to see if he could stand or not.
Nope, he was too heavy.
Fuck it.
“Yes… I want it.”
“Want what? Use your words.” Jungkook began rubbing his overstuffed belly again.
“Yes! -URRRRRRP- I wanna get so much fatter! M-Make me immobile, please, Jungkook.”
“Sure. I’ll help then.” Jungkook smiled at the pathetic display in front of him. “You must be thirsty, I’ll go grab you some soda.”
Yoongi’s face heated up even more, a blooming warmth flooding his body.
Soda.
Sugar.
Calories.
Fat.
Yoongi.
And Jungkook was there to help.
