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muffinwoozi · 8 months

Note

Can I request minwon size contrast where Mingyu is pretty big and wonwoo is his skinny little self and Mingyu gets a little insecure after he grows out of another pair of pants. Then wonwoo praises him and reminds him how much he loves his body (can be spicy or non spicy! Your choice!)

sorry this request took some time to post, i've had a stressful week at university meeting my deadlines and all but i'm back in business now woooooo! hope you enjoy <3

(just a heads up that this contains very mild angst, but it's quickly rectified by wonwoo being adorable)

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Serenity

He’s been trying for twenty minutes, but still no luck.

“Come on,” Mingyu grunts as he pulls the denim up and over his thighs. Despite his best efforts, they remain stubbornly stuck under his waistline, the zipper digging into his stomach when he makes a feeble attempt to button the pants up. He lets out a heavy, persecuted sigh and admits defeat, rolling the fabric down and tossing the jeans aside where they can’t taunt him anymore.

There was a time where his acid wash jeans had been Mingyu’s favourite pair of pants; there had also been a time where he could see his feet over his stomach. At first, his weight gain hadn’t really fazed him. A bit of healthy relationship weight has never hurt anyone, and his boyfriend Wonwoo didn’t seem to mind at all. But as the months went on, as he packed on more and more extra padding, he couldn’t help but worry that Wonwoo was just too polite to mention how big he’s gotten. Now, as he stands in front of their mirror in just his undershirt and boxers, the dread sinks in. What the hell is Wonwoo going to think when he gets home and sees his whale of a boyfriend lounging around doing nothing, the pair of jeans that fit him like a glove not too long ago crumpled up and abandoned on their bedroom floor?

Mingyu sinks down onto their bed, scrutinising his reflection. He winces as his stomach dips down and brushes his thighs as he crosses his legs. He’s gotten chubby all over, a result of being newly self-employed, especially in his midsection. Now, if he wants to reach the cupboard behind the dining table, he has to suck everything in to get through the tight squeeze between the radiator and the chairs, has to exclusively wear slip-on shoes to save himself from the embarrassment of not being able to tie his laces, has to apologise to Wonwoo when he scoots onto his lap and realises he’s too heavy to do that anymore. He feels a sharp prick of something in his eyes, and before he can register that he’s even upset, the tears start falling thick and fast.

He’s let himself go. He’s let himself go, and Wonwoo’s probably just looking for a reason to dump him. Mingyu doesn’t blame him. Why would someone like Wonwoo, someone as sweet and handsome and precious as his Wonwoo, put up any longer with a good-for-nothing, lazy-

“Mingyu-yah?” A soft voice calls from the hall. Mingyu freezes. He hadn’t realised how loudly he’s been crying until the silence swallows him up. “Can I come in, sweetheart?”

“I, uh-” Mingyu frantically wipes his cheeks with his palms and slides off the bed, cringing at the sensation of his thighs jiggling as he stands. “Of course.” Glancing at himself once more in the mirror, Mingyu wants to bury himself deep into his mattress and never come out. He looks awful.

The door swings open to reveal Wonwoo standing in the frame, mouth twisted down with worry and holding a box from their favourite family-owned bakery down the street. He looks as gorgeous as ever, brown hair swept neatly off his forehead and skin glowing under the warm glow of the fairy lights they have strung up around the apartment. “Mingyu-yah, what’s wrong?”

It seems like Mingyu’s attempts to appear somewhat present have failed, as they tend to do these days. Wonwoo’s eyebrows are drawn together as he places the box on top of their dresser and makes his way over to the bed. One of the legs of Mingyu’s bastard jeans almost trips him up, and when his eyes land on Mingyu’s bare legs, he seems to put two and two together.

“They, uh, they don’t really fit me anymore,” Mingyu begins, voice shaky. “I could get them on fine just last month, I don’t know what happened. Hyung, I feel so unattractive-” The dam inside his chest breaks. Wonwoo wraps an arm around his shoulders comfortingly. “I- I’ve gotten so careless. I don’t blame you if you’re not attracted to me anymore. I’ve ruined my body, and you deserve to be with someone who actually-”

“Sh, sh, sh,” Wonwoo interrupts, rubbing the expanse of Mingyu’s thick thigh soothingly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to worry about the jeans,” he says. “They don’t matter. We can buy you new ones next time we go shopping. But we really need to talk about this.”

“This?” Mingyu repeats unhelpfully. Oh god, he was right. Wonwoo’s going to be honest with him. He’s going to tell him he doesn’t find him hot anymore, and that it would be best if they go their separate-

“I think you’re beautiful, and I don’t know what I have to do to convince you to feel the same,” Wonwoo says, stroking Mingyu’s cheek. “I love you at any size, Mingyu-yah. I think you’re even cuter with the extra weight, though. When I’m stuck in the office, one of the only things that keeps me going is knowing I get to come home every day and do this.” He squishes Mingyu’s cheeks together so that his mouth pouts cartoonishly and kisses him. Mingyu feels his cheeks heat up. Wonwoo laughs softly.

Something warm and safe and fuzzy blooms in Mingyu’s chest. His breathing steadies, and all at once, the shame and self-hatred that were weighing so heavily on him just moments before melt away like his favourite ice cream on a hot day.

“I love you so much, Mingyu-yah. And I love your body.” Wonwoo frowns. “I just wish you loved it as much as I did.”

Mingyu sniffs loudly and nods. “I’ll try to. I think putting on so much weight in so little time has just shaken my confidence a bit. I just haven’t felt like myself lately.”

Wonwoo gets up to retrieve the box off the dresser, a glint in his eye when he opens it up and shows Mingyu what’s inside; three of his favourite pastries coated in his favourite toppings, the exact same pastries he’s been craving all week but has felt too ashamed to eat. “I think I have something that can help. Would you like one?”

With an enthusiastic nod, Wonwoo sits back down and gently feeds Mingyu the pastries one by one, whispering sweet nothings as he licks his lips clean. “Thank you, hyung,” Mingyu whispers as Wonwoo leans in to kiss him. "I love you so much."

"I love you even more, sweetheart. You have no idea."

#muffinwoozi writes #svt feederism #svt weight gain #chubby mingyu #kpop feederism

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muffinwoozi · 7 months

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hello i come to you with a request please 😌 ok so like size contrast seungcheol/woozi with woozi who is short and chubby (and getting chubbier) with his athletic boyfriend seungcheol who loves teasing him about their differences (both in weight and height) thank you!!

unfortunately my internet in my uni accommodation has been really unreliable lately so it's taken longer than expected to start posting all the requests i've been working on - if you've sent me a request, don't worry, i'm not ghosting you! i have most of them written and ready to go, i just have to wait until i can access the library to post them (yes i have to use the university's wifi to post kpop feedism fic. what even is my life atp)

anyway! i hope you enjoy this, it actually turned out a lot kinkier than i originally set out for it to be aksjdjsjs. there's no smut or anything but i did lean pretty heavily into the feeding/teasing aspect 😉

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Size Up

Jihoon used to wear the same thing every day to work. His cushy office job doesn’t require much more than a pair of black slacks and white button-down shirt, so for the last two years, choosing what to wear had been the least of his worries. If anything, Jihoon liked the lack of variation - having to pick out a new set of clothes each morning sounded needlessly stressful, and he’d preferred to not stray from his typical routine, thank you very much.

There’s only one small problem, though. Since he began working as an accountant, Jihoon’s weight has almost doubled. Having a job that requires him to stay sitting for a majority of the day paired with a boyfriend who loves to spoil him by taking him out for dinner and feeding him every night has proved to be a terrible combination for Jihoon’s waistline, as evidenced by his jump from a solid 144 to a hefty 308 pounds. A consequence of gaining so much weight has resulted in stretch marks and shallow breaths and the occasional snarky remark from his grandmother, but perhaps the worst thing to come from getting bigger, way bigger, has been the fact he’s lost count of how many times he’s had to replace his simple work uniform.

The first replacement came when he had gained 20 pounds after he and his boyfriend had made a habit out of ordering takeout from their favourite Chinese restaurant down the block, and had come the second he felt his pants getting a bit snug.

Nowadays, however, there’s been some developments.

He adores the way the thin material clings to the soft fat around his waist, loves the feeling of peeling away the constricting cotton from his pale torso, examining the angry pink lines that decorate his skin from the tight squeeze. He gets a thrill deep in his spine, a hot, burning sensation buried deep until the chub of his stomach whenever he watches Seungcheol’s eyes light up as he feeds him more and more so that he grows out of them.

Nowadays, he waits until he can’t possibly go another day in his work clothes without becoming a threat to public decency. This time, it’s no different.

On Friday, he arrives home to the smell of bulgogi and bao buns and glazed donuts, all freshly prepared and ready for him to dig into. Jihoon knows their cupboards are almost as tightly packed as he is; barely struggling to contain all the high-calorie treats for tonight’s endeavours. He licks his lips excitedly as he closes the door behind him.

“Hyungie,” he calls as he toes off his shoes by the door.

Seungcheol emerges from the kitchen a second later, wiping his hands on a chocolate-stained tea towel. His face lights up when he sees Jihoon standing at the door, looks him up and down like a wolf admiring its prey before his eyes fasten on the huge belly that’s straining against his thinning shirt. Seungcheol sweeps his boyfriend into his arms, pressing his own washboard abs into the malleable dome that Jihoon sports.

“That shirt isn’t lasting any longer, baby,” Seungcheol teases, digging his hands into Jihoon’s hips hungrily. “You must be starving after such a long day, hm? Don’t worry, Jihoonie. We’re popping you out of that thing tonight.”

Jihoon almost moans as Seungcheol trails his fingers along the crest of his belly, knowing exactly where to apply pressure and wear to stroke gently. Where he’s all large and round and soft, Seungcheol is lean and strong and sculpted; the contrast is alluring, sexy, makes Jihoon blush aggressively when he’s reminded of just how much Seungcheol has fattened him up. It’s exhilarating, knowing he’s given his boyfriend such control over him and his body and how Seungcheol never gets tired of pulling the same old tricks on him. After all this time, his low, husky voice and Herculean muscles still manage to work like a charm on Jihoon.

"Look at how big your belly is, baby. So big and soft and round for me. How does this work, hm? You're half my size and, like, triple my weight. How've you managed that, hm?" Seungcheol's voice dips down an octave. "You must have someone really strong and handsome who can handle all of you, am I right?"

Jihoon nods feverishly.

"And I bet you're looking forward to the food I've made you, right? You must've been holding back for hours."

“Barely eaten all day,” Jihoon lies. “I’m so hungry. Need filling, hyungie.” Seungcheol grins and lightly kisses Jihoon’s chubby cheek before he guides him into the kitchen, towering over Jihoon’s shoulders as he plunks him down into his seat.

The first dish is a huge bowl of three-meat bulgogi, much bigger than the portions served at their local bulgogi joint. Seungcheol loads up a forkful and presses it to Jihoon’s lips, his free hand massaging his belly, slowly rubbing up and down as Jihoon lets out a pleasant moan at the first bite.

“Oh my god, hyungie,” Jihoon mumbles through a mouthful of pork and lettuce as more and more forkfuls come his way. Seungcheol is not a slow feeder - instead, he likes to stuff Jihoon without hesitation, push him to his limits until he can’t physically consume any more food. He loves to see the glazing red of Jihoon’s cheeks as he puffs through each bite, the subtle signs of struggle and determination to not only impress him, but prove to himself that he can go above and beyond.

“Used three whole packets of meat just for you, Jihoonie. Only the best for the love of my life.”

It’s when they’re coming to the end of the first dish that Jihoon’s stomach really starts protesting. It whines and gurgles as it tries to digest the meal suitable for a family of five. It’s itchy as the skin pulls, stretching to accommodate the swell, as Jihoon groans and drums his nails along the top of it, where it shelves his growing moobs. “Don’t think it-it’ll t-take much tonight,” he hiccups through his sentence, slowly soothing his doughy belly. Seungcheol puts down the fork and sinks both hands into Jihoon’s stomach. It’s still squishy, not quite full enough to harden yet, but the cotton shirt is getting tighter and tighter, the buttons straining and revealing strips of Jihoon’s pale skin underneath.

“You’re doing so well, Jihoonie, so well,” Seungcheol coos. “I can’t wait to see you burst out of this thing. I wonder what everyone at work thinks when they see you waddle into the office with your belly threatening to pop out of your shirt. They probably think it’s as hot as I do. But you know what? They don’t get to touch you like I do.” He squeezes Jihoon’s belly and pats it tenderly before handing Jihoon a bowl of bao buns.

“You’re going to eat all of that,” he tells him, slowly rising up from his chair. “You’ve got until I put the finishing touches on these donuts or I won’t give you a belly rub.”

“Whatever you say, hyungie,” Jihoon says submissively as he bites into the first bun. It’s practically bursting with flavour, the crispy duck filling causing him to moan quietly into the pastry. His belly is becoming heavy as he chews, so he strategically places one hand so that it’s resting underneath in, supporting its weight and rubbing his skin as he reaches for the second one. By the third bun, his breath is becoming laboured and his stomach feels constricted but he powers through like the machine he is, running his chubby hand up and down his underlayer of fat. It’s when he finally reaches his second to last bun that he feels his stomach begin to grow firm, finally hardening with all the food he’s managed to pack inside. Seungcheol’s adding toppings to the final row of donuts in the corner of the kitchen, so Jihoon sandwiches the last two buns together and shoves them into his mouth in two bites. He struggles to breathe through the large mouthfuls but with his hands now fully free, he can attend to his swollen belly that’s now pooled into his lap.

As he palms it, he can tell it’s gotten larger, knows he’s getting bloated with each bite he’s taken. His stomach gurgles and he moans, jabbing the heels of his palms into each area of the expanse in efforts to soothe it. The buttons strain as he takes deep, heavy breaths, and he’s counting his lucky stars that they haven’t popped yet. But as Seungcheol places the tray of donuts in front of him, he knows this is what will send his shirt to its grave.

Seungcheol bypasses the chair and instead drops to his knees in front of Jihoon, palming his stomach lovingly. It feels hot and heavy, even through the shirt. “Aw, does it hurt, baby?”

“My pants do,” Jihoon huffs, one hand wedging its way between the tight fabric and the fat that’s accumulated on his lower hips. “But it’s good. The kind of pain that turns me on. God, the stretch marks are going to be so angry tonight.” His heart leaps in his chest at the thought of how he’ll look in front of the mirror tonight.

“Let’s get you out of this shirt,” Seungcheol says eagerly, voice dripping with desire. He grabs the nearest donut off the tray and shoves it into Jihoon’s expecting mouth, and god, it’s to die for. A burning sensation tingles all over Jihoon’s body as he moans, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

“Oh, baby, you really like that,” Seungcheol whispers. It isn’t even a question; he knows Jihoon’s reached a tipping point. Jihoon locks eyes with him as he feeds him more, his stomach groaning and hardening with each bite. They start alternating between bites of donut and fizzing, sugary cola, the bubbles inflating his rock hard stomach and causing Jihoon to burp softly as Seungcheol continues to fondle his belly.

It’s when they’re halfway through the donuts and down an entire litre bottle that it happens.

Jihoon’s back begins to ache and as he chows down on what has to be the eighth or ninth donut. He’s too stuffed to stretch his arms back that far to attempt to soothe it, but luckily, he has a very strong boyfriend who’s more than qualified for the job kneeling right in front of him.

“Hyungie, I need you to help me-”

He’s cut off by a comically loud tear, the sound of the fabric ripping bouncing off their kitchen walls like an echo. All at once, Jihoon feels a cool breeze on his red-hot stomach as it surges forward like a tsunami, the last three buttons of his shirt no longer holding it back.

Seungcheol moans at the sight before him. Jihoon’s stomach is swollen and massive, covering half of his lap like a pet cat. Slightly dazed, Jihoon is groaning and running his hands over it in every direction possible, basking in the reality of just how big he’s gotten, just how much Seungcheol has fattened him up.

“Jihoonie, you look like a dream,” Seungcheol murmurs, gripping Jihoon’s fat into his hands possessively. “God, the things I want to do to you right now. I’ve fattened you up so well, haven’t I? So big for me, baby. You’ve done so well tonight.” Jihoon’s belly brushes against his abs as Seungcheol leans up to kiss him.

He’s definitely going to have to buy another replacement uniform.

#muffinwoozi writes #svt feederism #svt weight gain #chubby woozi #feeder seungcheol #kpop feederism

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muffinwoozi · 8 months

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hello welcome to our lil community! i’d like to request soonhoon with dom feedee jihoon and sub feeder soonyoung please 😌 i don’t really have much for plot i just love dom feedees 😭

hello!! tysm, i can't wait to start posting and i hope i can do your request justice! i love dom feedees too akshdjsjsjsh, thank you for requesting one of my fav dynamics ever 🙏

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Tease

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jihoon chides, swatting Soonyoung’s hands away. They hover above Jihoon’s exposed belly, palms outstretched. Soonyoung meets his eyes warily. “We had a deal, remember? You don’t get to touch me ‘til I’m totally stuffed.”

“You’re not stuffed yet?” Soonyoung asks in disbelief. In twenty minutes, Jihoon’s wolfed down three boxes of chicken, a large side of cajun fries, a stack of oreo and caramel churros and two supersized milkshakes, but evidently, none of it has even touched the sides. Jihoon is still as perky and positively un-stuffed as he was before he waddled into their bedroom with a growling stomach. Now, he sits on their bed surrounded by empty takeaway boxes, t-shirt rode up and belly flooding onto his lap, sauce and cinnamon smeared across his cheeks, remarkably showing no signs of discomfort or fullness. He cocks his head and shoots Soonyoung a cheeky, slanted smile. Soonyoung’s putty in his hands and he knows it.

Soonyoung just sighs, wiping Jihoon’s cheeks clean with the pad of his thumb. “Jihoon-ah, you’ve eaten enough to feed a family for a night. You seriously aren’t full yet?”

“Nope,” Jihoon says, popping the P. He smacks his belly, causing the soft flesh to ripple under the force. Soonyoung feels himself grow rock hard. “This is your fault, you know. You’ve trained me to eat so much that I just can’t stop eating, can’t stop growing. You’ve made me so fat.” He pinches his hips and jiggles the pliant rolls of fat and down. There’s orange sauce dripping down from his chin and onto his belly. “You should probably clean me up once I’m done with the next meal. I’m so messy.”

“Jihoon-ah,” Soonyoung repeats, almost painfully aroused. “Stop teasing me. Just tell me what you want from the pantry and I’ll get it for you.”

He smiles again, that satisfactory little grin he wears when he knows he’s won. “Fetch whatever you think will fill me up the quickest, my love. You’re the one who calls the shots around here.”

Soonyoung scoffs. As if.

It’s strange what love (or lust) can make you do, Soonyoung thinks as he heads down to the pantry in search of something that’ll get the job done the fastest so he can fulfil his end of the deal and earn his prize. When their relationship had been in its earliest stages, there were no games, no prizes to be won, no push-and-pull. Granted, Jihoon had been at least a hundred pounds lighter at the time, but he also hadn’t been such a brat. He knows how to get what he wants, and he knows all the buttons to press to make Soonyoung melt. Truthfully, he loves it. He loves letting Jihoon boss him around. He loves being teased in the form of watching Jihoon play with his belly, suck his fingers clean and whine about how hungry he still is after devouring a small feast in record time. He loves getting to be the only person who can touch him, who can feed him, who can stroke his hair and stuff his face every night. He loves being the only person who can unlock this side of Jihoon.

When he retreats back into the bedroom with what feels like half their pantry stock in his arms, Jihoon is rubbing a hand all over the crest of his belly, the skin sinking under his touch like freshly baked dough. Soonyoung’s grip on the food almost loosens.

“Took you long enough,” Jihoon snorts, sitting up and spreading his legs wider so that his belly has a bigger spot to rest. His entire face lights up when his eyes land on the amount of food Soonyoung’s brought back - there’s a big tub of cookie dough ice cream, bags of Doritos and mini pretzels, muffins, sleeves of cookies, boxes of Pocky, the last slice of that chocolate cake they’d been keeping in the fridge and a 2-litre bottle of soda. “Mmm, can’t wait for you to make me pop,” Jihoon says enticingly as Soonyoung lays everything down and snuggles up next to him. Soonyoung can’t help but smile as he tosses the lid of the ice cream tub aside and brings the first spoonful up to his boyfriend’s lips.

Jihoon inhales his food like he’s Kirby. What should be enough snacks to carry a frat party is polished off in a little less than forty minutes; Soonyoung insists on hand-feeding him everything, a tactic that comes in handy when they’re down to the last few items and Jihoon barely has the strength to shovel the food into his own mouth. By the time he’s finished everything, Jihoon is laying on his back, belly sticking out like a huge dome that sits on top of him, panting and sweating. Any attempt to soothe it proves to be futile as he can barely lift his hands to touch himself. Soonyoung sits back and admires his work like it’s the Eighth Wonder.

“Wow, baby,” he coos, straddling Jihoon and massaging his swollen belly like he’s been waiting all evening to do. “You were right. I’ve made you so fat.”

#muffinwoozi writes #svt feederism #svt weight gain #chubby woozi #feeder hoshi #kpop feederism

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muffinwoozi · 7 months

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ooh maybe something where wonwoo keeps treating chan out for dinner and slowly he's becoming bigger and more demanding with how much he's getting to eat and wonwoo, being the way he is, is going to completely give into chan's ways but it culminates in him breaking out of his clothes and like pinning wonwoo to a wall with his weight cause he realizes how much they both like it

i've gotta be honest i had no idea how much i liked the concept of being pinned to a wall til i wrote this lol you've awoken something within me

also! this gets ~slightly~ nsfw towards the end. no full-blown smut, but there's a smidge of dirty talk which i hope you're okay with. enjoy! 🩷

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Kabedon

It started out innocently enough, as Valentine’s Day dinners tend to do.

Truthfully, Wonwoo hadn’t taken Chan out to his favourite restaurant with any intention beside wanting to treat his boyfriend to a nice, lavish meal to celebrate their first Valentine’s Day together. It just so happened that for this particular occasion, the restaurant had decided to shelf their typical menu-based service and instead host an all-you-can-eat buffet, which sported increased portion sizes and brand new dishes specially introduced to celebrate the holiday. Hand over heart, Wonwoo had been none the wiser.

Chan loved every second of it. Wonwoo did too, of course, but he hadn’t gone to town on the food the way his boyfriend had. He’d floated between the buffet table and their booth at least five times that evening, his plate coming back fuller and fuller each time. At first, Wonwoo was a little taken aback - Chan was a dancer, a toned, fit dancer who usually watched his diet plan like a hawk. He wasn’t used to seeing him eat so much in one sitting. By the fifth plate, Chan did show some signs of defeat, and by the time the clock struck eight, he was whining for Wonwoo to carry him back to their car, unable to move because his stomach was too tightly packed.

The only thing more unexpected than Chan’s food bender that night was how aroused Wonwoo felt as he watched Chan play with his bloated stomach when they got home. He felt himself grow hard as Chan poked his tummy curiously, admiring its new softness with wide, excited eyes. From there, he’d decided to dip his toes into researching the weird and wonderful world of feedism and weight-related kink, a fascination he’d largely kept to his laptop’s private browser but would soon manifest itself as a palpable, tangible element of their relationship in the real world. Soon enough, they were going out for dinner dates a lot more frequently and, with time, Chan’s obsession with going to the gym and staying slim melted away alongside his fast metabolism.

It was like a domino effect. Chan’s appetite grew exponentially over the course of a year, which inevitably caused him to pack on the pounds quicker than he could count. When he reached 150, he decided cutting back on dance to focus on trying out all the restaurants their city had to offer was the more beneficial route for him to take. By 200, he’d packed in dance altogether. By 250, he was struggling to find new restaurants within reasonable travelling distance for them to visit. By 300, he’d lost interest in venturing outside the house, instead opting to take advantage of the takeout options all his favourite spots offered.

Now, Chan’s at a steady 325 and counting, sitting on the couch with his legs spread to make room for his huge belly as he waits for Wonwoo unbox the three pizzas he’d ordered from the small family-owned pizzeria he’d nearly broken a chair at last year. He cradles his growling stomach tenderly as he surfs through the channels on their TV, a supersized packet of Doritos by his side to tide him over until he can truly dig in.

“You wanted three pepperonis, right, babe?” Wonwoo asks from the kitchen island. Funnily enough, Chan is the only one who’s dived head-first into their newfound love of gaining weight; Wonwoo is still as skinny as ever.

“Yeah,” Chan confirms, licking the dust off his fingers and wiping them on his t-shirt. Damn, it’s getting really small. They’re gonna have to go clothes shopping again at some point. “The best kind. Now get your ass over here, I don’t know how much longer I can go without food. I’ll starve, hyung.”

“You literally just finished eating a huge bag of Doritos.”

Chan scoffs and crinkles up the packet in his hammy fist like it’s personally wronged him. “This is barely food!” He argues. “It was just a light snack. I’m waiting for you to feed me the real food. I don’t know what I need more, you or the pizza.”

Wonwoo sighs as he makes his way over to the couch, but he’s smiling nonetheless. Aside from his weight, one of the biggest changes in their relationship that’s occurred in the past year has been the way Chan speaks to him. When they first started dating, Chan wouldn’t even think of ordering his dear hyung around or overly demanding anything from him. He’d pester him and bat his eyelashes coquettishly until Wonwoo would give into his desires, sure, but he would never boss him around or snap his fingers at him. Times have changed, though, and it seems like with every pound Chan gains, the more spoiled he becomes. Wonwoo has grown accustomed to being treated like Chan’s little maid, buying him food and hand-feeding him and touching him whenever he pleases. Thankfully, they’re both incredibly into it.

The evening unfolds like any other, with Wonwoo feeding Chan and giving him the occasional belly rub and Chan demanding he stuff him faster and faster, and oh, would he be a dear and grab him a can of Sprite from the fridge? It’s as Wonwoo is massaging Chan’s huge belly in efforts to relieve some of the pressure that he realises how truly big he’s gotten. It’s no secret that his boyfriend is teetering on the edge of obesity, he knows that, but sometimes he forgets just how large he is. Half an hour ago Chan’s shirt was snug under his belly button, but now, three pizzas and a tub of ice cream later, it’s rode up to cup his moobs perfectly, displaying the expanse of his belly fully. Wonwoo feels his shorts tent at the sight.

“I’m done, hyung,” Chan declares as he licks the spoon clean. He leans back and runs his chubby hands up and down his swollen body, eyes sparkling. “Need you to touch me, now. Need it so bad.”

Wonwoo grins. “I think I can manage that.” He launches himself on top of Chan, cock throbbing against the fabric of his shorts as it presses against Chan’s stomach. Chan moans to the touch and kisses him deeply, wrapping his fat arms around Wonwoo’s itty-bitty waist and pulling him closer. He tastes like cheese and bread and cookie dough, and Wonwoo can’t get enough, can never get enough.

Eventually, Chan pulls back and spreads his legs even wider, slapping the top of his inner thigh with a suggestive wink. Wonwoo’s eyes trail to his crotch, and he sees that beneath his belly, Chan is almost as hard as he is.

“You gonna fill me up, hyung?” Chan asks wistfully.

Wonwoo nods jerkily. “The lube’s in the drawer over by the ornaments. Go be a good boy and get it for me.” When you have a boyfriend who looks like Chan who spends a majority of his time on the couch, you learn to keep your inventory in some unconventional places.

Chan pulls a face at being told what to do, but follows his boyfriend’s command regardless. He builds up momentum by swinging his legs back and forth before hoisting himself up, fat jiggling all over as he waddles over to the drawer to hunt for their favourite watermelon flavoured lube. He bends down with some difficulty to retrieve it, and before Wonwoo can even think of a teasing comment to taunt him with, the hem of Chan’s sweatpants burst wide open, his fat surging forward.

If Wonwoo wasn’t rock-hard before, he’s sporting a fucking canyon by now.

“Wow, baby,” Wonwoo practically growls. “I knew those pants were getting a little tight but I didn’t think you’d pop out of them today. Here, you look like you could use some help getting them off.” Chan whimpers as Wonwoo jumps off the couch and pulls his sweatpants off for him, the fabric uncomfortably tight and sweaty around the parts of his legs they’re still clinging to. When they’re finally tossed onto the floorboards, he lets out a huge sigh of relief and reaches out to wrap Wonwoo up in his embrace. It seems as though he’d severely underestimated the sheer mass of his body, though, because instead of smooshing into his boyfriend gently like he plans to, he slams him into the wall, pinning him up against the wallpaper with nothing but his belly.

For a while, it feels like neither of them can breathe.

“Hyung, are you okay? I didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorr-”

“This might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever done to me,” Wonwoo interrupts, eyes wide and glazed over. His whole face is tinged pink, and when Chan attempts to roll off him, Wonwoo seizes two fistfuls of his hips and pulls him right back in. Chan squeaks, half in surprise, half in pleasure.

“You’ve got to do that on purpose sometime,” Wonwoo groans dazedly.

#muffinwoozi writes #svt feederism #svt weight gain #feeder!wonwoo #feedee!chan #kpop feederism

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