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Taste Testing

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This is a looooooooooooong overdue commission I’ve owed to an anonymous user for a wee bit.  I’m in the midst of more or less cleaning house and getting every commission I owe people outta the water so I can reopen efforts soon-ish.  In this relatively short commission, everyone’s favorite manly cinnamon bun helps everyone’s favorite timebomb by taste testing some of his new recipes. 

Visiting home was always annoying, but for Bakugou, he loved stopping by when he could have the house all to himself.  Any time being able to visit without the “hag” always nagging him was great, especially since it meant he had the kitchen all to himself.  So it was no surprise that, Bakugou being Bakugou, he was gonna flex another thing he excelled at more than anyone else around him; cooking.

Bakugou, dressed in his black tanktop, jeans and barefooted (hey, it was his house...well...technically, the “hags” house, but still!) was currently well in a frenzy of whipping up another dish he was especially fond of, spicy steak udon.  And none of that store-bought packaged crap either, Bakugou always went full Japanese Gordon Ramsey and angrily (and about twice as profanely) whipped up everything from scratch.  This was far from the first dish he wanted to experiment with though.  He knew his cooking tasted amazing, of course it did!  But for food, for as little as other opinions truly mattered to him, he DID need to ensure everyone else’s pathetic taste buds could handle the extremities of his cooking-


...Fortunately, judging from the large and lengthy belch that had just erupted from the dining room, Bakugou had himself a decent taste-tester on hand.

“Phew!  Good push on that one, huh?”  Called out the voice of Eijiro Kirishima from the other room, earning a scoff from Bakugou as he finished putting the final touches on an immensely large bowl of spicy udon and brought it over to the dining area.

Kirishima was sitting at the dining table, dressed in his casual wares of a salmon-colored t-shirt, blue sports shorts, his white bandana and also comfortably bare footed like his friend...but only because Bakugou threatened to explode his crocs if Kirishima wore that embarrassing footware in his household.  The crimson-haired lad was contently leaning back in his chair with both of his hands rested atop his stomach.  Normally, Kirishima’s middle was sporting a rock-hard six-pack, but after downing so many of Bakugou’s experimental dishes, those abs had vanished.  In their place was a nice, smooth and round “melon-belly,” the kind of stomach that had rounded out by a little over a foot and given Kirishima the impression of swallowing a watermelon whole...which, in fairness, was not necessarily IMPOSSIBLE for certain people in this world.  Kirishima’s t-shirt was already hiking up, exposing a sliver of his smooth bare belly from the bottom of his shirt, which occasionally rose higher the more Kirishima rubbed his stomach.

Kirishima’s hardening quirk wasn’t flashy, but it not only worked great for close range combat and defensive purposes, it also allowed the boy to harden his stomach lining, allowing him to eat as much as he possibly could without suffering the mother of all bellyaches.  As such, he had garnered something of a reputation as one of the biggest eaters in the entire school, discounting some students whose quirks required them to eat as much as humanly possible.

The boy sniffed in the air and lit up as he turned to the bowl Bakugou brought to the table and set out before Kirishima.  “Ooooh!  Spicy beef udon??”  Kirishima asked like an excitable puppy.

“Whadduya think, hardhat?”  Bakugou growled as he scooped up all the now empty plates Kirishima had plowed through...because aggressively pissy or not, Bakugou was NOT gonna have a messy house.

Kirishima ran his palms together and said, “I think it’s lunchtime, dude!”  He was about to go to town, but paused and tilted his head for a moment.  “Yo, Bakugou!  Ya gonna have any, man?”

Bakugou shook his head and said, “I already know my cooking’s kickass, shitty-hair.  I just need to make sure you extras can actually handle it too.”

Kirishima’s grin widened, revealing his rather sharp fangs in the process.  “Heh, in THAT case...”

And without another word, Kirishima started eagerly scarfing down as much udon as he could fit into his jaws as possible.  Bakugou snorted and took the dishes over to the sink to aggressively wash them cleaner than they’d ever been cleaned in their miserable existence.  Yes, Bakugou even washed dishes angrily...

Kirishima, in stark contrast of Bakugou’s perpetual scowl, was all smiles as his cheeks bulged with noodles and meat.  Some spicy broth dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he spent a few seconds chewing.  Then, he dipped his head back and gulped heartily, causing a sizable bulge to protrude from his throat, slickly and wetly traveling down Kirishima’s gullet before vanishing past his athletic chest and depositing itself into his already expanded stomach.

Smacking his chops, Kirishima licked his lips clean of broth and wolfed down even more spicy goodness.  He gleefully stuffed his face, slurping up more and more noodles and only needing to chew rather hefty mouthfuls for mere seconds, due to the sharpness of those shark-like fangs of his.  As a result, any time he gulped a mouthful down, it was often a rather hefty mouthful going down at once, often requiring Kirishima to thump his broad chest multiple times to work his food down his gullet all at once.

And with every few mouthfuls he worked down, Kirishima’s belly continued to expand little by little, inching out further the more it took in.  His shirt tightened from the added weight, hiking up a little bit more with each inch outwards while the elastic waistband of his shorts stretched out further. 

Kirishima took to grabbing the bowl, bringing it to his lips and gleefully slurping down the extra spicy broth and some of the residual meat and noodles not yet consumed.  He took it in with big, hearty gulps, causing his throat to throb as one ample lump of warm broth after another flowed down his gullet and filled his increasingly warmer and warmer belly up.  All the while, with each glug, his gut gurgled deeply, expanding little by little from the rush of warm, spicy liquids and meat filling him up.

Bakugou eventually reemerged into the dining area with a platter loaded with spicy beef strips just as Kirishima set the now empty bowl onto the table, panting breathlessly upon doing so and wiping his chin clean of broth that once again dribbled down and spilled a few drops onto his chest.  Just as Bakugou set the platter down, Kirishima grimaced before clutching his burgeoning belly firmly with one hand, turning his head and letting out a big, hearty belch, followed by another, deeper one right after that...


When it ended, Kirishima gasped breathlessly and gave his bloated belly a hefty smack; the sound like slapping solid rock due to his quirk solidifying the inside of his stomach.

“Whooooo man...*HULP!* bad, man.  Got a lil heartburn there,” Kirishima exclaimed, thumping his chest a few times to clear his windpipes and letting out a little hiccup in response.  “Mph, too much spicy stuff’ll do that t’ya...”

Bakugou simply scoffed and said, “Tch, weakass,” but nonetheless, took the note.  Clearly, if even someone like Kirishima was commenting on his food being too spicy, then Bakugou needed to ease up on the chilis if he was cooking for other people.  If just himself though, then to hell with it, he was going all out.  He headed over to the kitchen to grab a 2 Liter bottle of soda and a pair of glasses since he himself was getting a little thirsty too from all the work he was doing in the kitchen, then brought them over, adding, “In case your punkass needs to cool down...”

“Thanks, dude!”  Kirishima beamed, cracking open the bottle and immediately pouring himself a glass.  Bakugou merely grunted then took the now empty bowl to rinse it off.

By the time Bakugou arrived, Kirishima was already eagerly scarfing down strip after strip.  He used his chopsticks to bring an entire strip straight into his maw and scarfed it down, chewing in a rather voracious manner before gulping down his mouthful of meat and scarfing down some more.  Bakugou sat and watched as Kirishima devoured his meal, pouring himself a glass of soda and taking a hearty glug of the fizzy stuff.  Setting his glass down, Bakugou huffed, uttered a muted burp, followed by another one before resuming watching (he could belt out some MONSTERS, but right now, he was focused on watching Kirishima chow down).

His eyes traveled down to Kirishima’s belly, seeing how much rounder it had become since the taste testing began proper.  Now, Bakugou, personally, could pack enough away to put anyone to shame.  But even without his quirk, when just eating normally, Kirishima’s more musclebound frame had allowed him to eat even more than the blond.  And once the hardening quirk was factored in, then it was no contest.  Still, annoying as it was to have ONE thing Kirishima could do better than him, Bakugou had to admit, it was genuinely something to see just how big and round Kirishima’s belly could get.  The spiky-haired lad's stomach was pressing out by well over two and a half feet, with his shirt having hiked up enough to hover JUST around his bellybutton, and in contrast to the shredded abs Kirishima normally possessed, when bloated to the extent he had, his gut was perfectly smooth and nearly spherical.  And from the sheer influx of food he’d eaten, Kirishima’s belly was getting pretty noisy to boot, burbling and gurgling to the point where even from across the table, Bakugou could hear Kirishima’s hyper-reactive stomach hard at work.

After downing several strips, Kirishima brought his glass to his lips, smacking his chops in a parched manner, then proceeded to chug his soda down heartily.  His gulping was audible enough that Bakugou could actually hear his throat squelch with each ample glug of carbonated liquids flowing down his gullet at once.  Within mere seconds, Kirishima pounded his drink away and slammed his glass on the table with a hearty exhale for breath, followed immediately by Kirishima throwing his head back and expelling a HUGE burp...


A combination of all that carbonation filling his belly up at once with the extra reactive spicy broth sloshing around inside culminated into a massive eructation that blasted out from Kirishima’s maw for several seconds at once and carried enough volume behind it that Bakugou actually squinted a bit from the assault on his eardrums.  When it ended, Kirishima’s eyes rolled to the back of his head for a moment as he drooped into his seat, making his immensely bloated belly jut out more, hiking up his shirt enough to reveal his bellybutton while Bakugou just stared in notable awe at the rounded belly practically displaying itself before him.

“Hah...haaah...hoooooooo man, did I need that...” Kirishima breathlessly exclaimed, patting his belly with relief and satisfaction.

“Ya done?”  Bakugou asked in a neutral tone of voice.

Kirishima scoffed and said, “Not even, dude!  Ya took the time t’make all this delicious stuff!  I owe it t’ya to polish it off!”  So, Kirishima sat up, causing the contents within his belly to slosh rather audibly, which also made Bakugou’s ears perk up suddenly for some reason.  The red-haired boy filled his glass up with more soda, then eagerly got to work plowing through the remainder of his meal.

Strip after strip worked its way down Kirishima’s gullet as he steadily demolished every strip of beef that worked its way into his mouth.  He was looking incredibly full, well beyond Bakugou’s already impressive threshold and twice as much for anyone else at the school who could pack it away too.  As more and more meat vanished down his gullet, Kirishima’s stomach continued to expand just a little bit more, hiking up his shirt further above his navel while his underbelly started to push down against the front of his sports shorts.

Kirishima paused to chug his soda glass down.  Shortly upon downing his glass in near record-times (Bakugou could’ve topped that easily), Kirishima let out a burp so loud that it could’ve easily been heard from outside of Bakugou’s parents house (Bakugou could’ve topped that too).  With a sigh of relief, Kirishima let out a comically dainty afterburp, then got to work demolishing the rest of the beef.  All the while, Bakugou watched as Kirishima continued tearing into the meal, transfixed on the young go-happy red-haired youths protruding belly, watching as it only continued to grow bigger and rounder the more he stuffed himself to the brim. 

He found himself taking in everything, from the sight of Kirishima’s fangs tearing through the meat, chewing ravenously before swallowing hard...


...And the sizable lump that pushed down the boys throat, slickly pushing down to his collarbone and vanishing behind it.  Bakugou’s face made it hard to tell what he was thinking in that moment.  Nonetheless, he watched on as Kirishima plowed through his kitchen work like a champ.

Eventually, Kirishima had polished off every last scrap of meat left before him and slumped back in his chair, punctuating the completion of his meal with a GIANT belch...


There was a great deal of heft and power behind it, but eventually, it rumbled to an end, and Kirishima sighed contently, slapping his gorged belly happily with both hands.  “Ahhhh, dude, I’m STUFFED...” Kirishima groaned contently, running his hands up and down his rounded belly with satisfaction.  Kirishima’s stomach was bulging out by well over two feet, hiking up his shirt to fully expose his engorged middle and having tugged down his sports shorts to give his underbelly some breathing room.  The entirety of his impressively round middle was on full display.

Bakugou just watched as the red-haired teen slowly ran his fingers up and down that protruding mound of smooth, tight-looking flesh.  His face was still hard to read.  So, he merely asked, “Think those shitheads would complain about anything you ate?”

Kirishima burped loudly again, then smacked his chops contently and shook his head.  “Nope!  Everything tasted real good, man!  Right seasonin’n sauces, not too raw or overcooked or nothin’.  It was all juuuuust right!”

“No shit,” Bakugou growled, still not quite taking his eyes off of Kirishima’s stomach and adding, “course it was perfect.  I just wanted t’be sure it wasn’t too strong for everyone else’s weakass taste-buds.”

“Why does it matter, dude?”  Kirishima asked curiously, brow raised.  “Ain’t like yer known fer holdin’ get togethers’n all that.  Everytime we all hang out, ya never turn up unless it’s to show up Midoriya-”

“-I just wanna make sure in case I get picked again to bring some food in the rest of those nerds in class.”

Kirishima’s eyes widened somewhat as he grinned a bit wider and said, “And ya wanted to make sure all your friends had the best eats they could get-?”

“-Friends?”  Scoffed Bakugou, adding, “Ya sound just like that half-n-half bastard!  Bein’ around people for way too long don’t up’n make us friends.  They’re all extras, far as I’m concerned, hard-hat.  Don’t get that confused...”

“Well, whatever the case, I think it’s real manly of ya to be considerate of what everyone else might like, man!”  Kirishima said with an approving grin.

Bakugou merely huffed indifferently like the big grump he was.  Then, after a moment, he hopped up from his seat and mumbled, “C’mon, let’s kick it on the couch, idiot.”

“Sure thing!”  Kirishima remarked, cradling his bloated belly carefully and hardening his free arm, giving it a more jagged, rocky appearance as he pushed himself up with more ease, causing the contents within his gut to slosh heavily, but stay maintained within his hardened stomach lining. 

The two sat on the couch watching TV together, but neither one was especially focused on the program.  Kirishima was sitting against the edge of the couch, sighing contently he slumped back in his seat, arching his back a little to make his belly press out more prominently.  Bakugou, meanwhile, was saddled up next to Kirishima, tenderly rubbing Kirishima’s belly in wide, deeply soothing yet focused circles.  The boy’s warm flesh was tight as a boulder due to the rock-like feel of his expanded stomach. 

Bakugou’s fingers steadily dug into that drumtight flesh, pressing and kneading into it as he palmed it and focused his attention just around Kirishima’s bellybutton.  Kirishima groaned at the pleasurable treatment and muttered, “...Ohhhh, duuuuude...that’, ya weren’t kiddin’, this really does help all that food settle...thanks fer such a smart suggestion, man!”

“Uh-huh,” Bakugou mumbled, barely paying attention to whatever excuse he told Kirishima end up where they did.  He kept his focus squarely on Kirishima’s pleasingly round shape, never once taking his eyes off of that belly.  With both hands now planted on Kirishima’s gut, he steadily and slowly ran them up to the crest of his rounded stomach, fingers caressing that sweet spot between the top of Kirishima’s stomach and just below his chest.  Then, they traveled down to his rather tender-feeling underbelly, where his fingers lined up and slowly, pleasantly stroked it from side to side.

Kirishima crooned not unlike a puppy getting its tummy rubbed.  Which was fitting since Kirishima was the equivalent of what you’d get if you combined a puppy with The Thing from those American ‘Fantastic Four’ comic books.  Bakugou simply exhaled through his nostrils dismissively, not unlike a bull, and just continued his soothing treatment, silently marveling at the sheer size of that bloat.  Bakugou was an eating machine, he could pack it away like no one’s business, but even without his hardening quirk, Kirishima’s stomach capacity was unmatched within Class 1-A.  Guess someone who worked out as relentlessly and intensely as he did was bound to have one helluvan appetite.

Bulking up and caloric excess would do that to a person.

This treatment carried on for a while, but came to a halt suddenly...


Kirishima’s belly burbled and churned, making Kirishima cringe as it gurgled intensely beneath Bakugou’s palms.  Turning his head, Kirishima brought a fist to his mouth, inhaled briefly just once and pushed out a deep burp right into his fist, followed immediately by Kirishima’s stomach lurching and him letting out another one into his balled up fist right after that.

“BLLUUUUUURRRRruuuurr-OOOORRP!!!  *HIC!*  Guh...hur-BEEEEEERRRRRUUUUUUUUPH!!!!  Whew...s’cuse me, my bad...” Kirishima mumbled after burping, thumping his broad chest firmly a few times to clear his windpipes. 


Kirishima yelped with startled surprise when Bakugou suddenly slapped the side of his round, taut belly with his open palm.  The sound had a rather satisfying thump to it, with a bit of audible reverb.  Bakugou had to admit, it was mildly uncomfortable slapping Kirishima’s gut when his stomach lining was hardened, since it felt like slapping solid rock, but that was cushioned by his taut flesh concealing his belly. 

Swatting his hand back, Kirishima glared with surprise and asked, “What’s the big idea, dude??”

“Shut up, idiot.  You didn’t get it all out,” Bakugou remarked without missing a beat, pushing Kirishima’s hands back and forcefully patting Kirishima’s rounded stomach heavily a few times.  The feeling, despite the dull discomfort of blunt hits, was deeply satisfying for Bakugou, as was the sound Kirishima’s belly made, between the thump to his flesh and the mild slosh and gurgle he heard and felt with each pat. 

But when he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, Bakugou growled in annoyance, making Kirishima wince nervously.  Angry Bakugou was the last thing anyone wanted when Bakugou had his hands on them. 

“Fuckin’ air pockets!  DIE!!!”  Bakugou hollered murderously, grabbing Kirishima’s belly with both hands from the dead center and PRESSING into his hardened gut as forcefully as he could.  Kirishima’s eyes bugged out of his head when suddenly, he felt a rush of pressure surging up his throat all at once, causing his cheeks to puff out momentarily until...


Kirishima threw his head back and snapped his jaws open as a tonsil-ripping belch EXPLODED out of his mouth, louder and longer than anything he’d let out since the taste testing first kicked into gear.  Bakugou grinned wickedly as he pressed even harder into Kirishima’s belly, feeling the hardened stomach lining actually creak somewhat from his aggressive pressing.  Even with that layer of rock-like protection within Kirishima’s stomach, Bakugou could FEEL all that pressure ripping out of him all at once from his pressing.

When it ended, Kirishima was left gasping and panting breathlessly, belly heaving as it rose and fell with his labored efforts to catch his breath.  But as he did so, he grimaced.  With that monster having been liberated from his gut, the excess pressure went rushing out of him against his will, and poor Kirishima found himself burping again and again.

Brrup!  BRRAAAAAAAPH!!!!  BwrruuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUrrrrch!!!!  Guh...haaah...haaaah...”  Kirishima gasped, before taking in a few gulps of air, causing his throat to throb as his gullet to gurgle idly, before clutching the center of his gut firmly with a hardened, rocky-looking hand, and expelling the last of the air in his gut with one last large...


It had a rather aggressive and deep-sounding heft to it as Kirishima’s head lurched out somewhat, pushing the last of that pressure out of his belly manually. 

When it finally ended, he slumped back lifelessly in his seat, gasping helplessly as he laid sprawled like a ragdoll.

“Haaaah...hhoooooohhh man...ex-cuse me...“  Kirishima gasped, idly draping his hand atop his belly as it rose and fell.

Bakugou just snorted, slapped Kirishima’s hand aside, and resumed rubbing his burgeoning gut in a more gentle manner. 

“...Dude,”  Kirishima paused for a moment and hiccuped suddenly, before slapping his chest with his open palm and adding, “...when it comes to taste testing, you don’t mess around, do ya...”

“Damn straight I don’t, shitty-hair.  And if you’re sturdy enough, then I’ll let’cha keep comin’ over whenever I need a lab rat to test the shit I cook on,” Bakugou grumbled dismissively as he kept rubbing away.

Kirishima paused, and smiled at that thought.  There was something rather uplifting about Bakugou referring to him as sturdy, let alone sturdy enough to trust with future taste tests.

In fact, it was downright manly...