#i say vainly bc the noise was not blocked

[mgu-h]

lando fiddling with his hood for The Aesthetic vs. max vainly dampening the sound of lando playing the drums 😈🥁

[yeenybeanies]

Hannoyed ( Hungry-Annoyed )

this is a scenario i thought of last night & i’ve been thinkin about it all day hello. also spontaneous creation of a new oc ( yet another black snake smh ) for size context bc i know that’s important to me: reo is about 60ft/18.3m long

reader & reolzre, the calm ( oc )

1683 words

safe, soft, unwilling vore warning, & language warning

enjoy!!

Bored.

You are bored. Mind-numbingly bored. It’s been a few days now since you’ve been able to leave your home. The conditions outside are too dangerous––or so the radios and headlines say. You’ve been tempted to venture out anyway, but the boredom hasn’t gotten quite bad enough to the point where you’d risk your life. So, for the time being, you have to entertain yourself with video games, books, internet browsing, and daydreaming by the window.

All of these can only keep you occupied for so long.

You aren’t alone in this isolation though, thank the gods. Your unconventional companion has elected to stay with you through these trying times. Why are they unconventional? Well, they’re a wyrm, for starters. Yes, your good buddy is a big ol’ legless, wingless dragon. You tease them often about their lack of appendages, affectionately referring to them as a  “ giant noodle dragon ”  or a  “ spicy danger noodle ” or . . . or usually something noodle-related. It’s all in good fun; you know they’re quite capable, and you know they take it in good humor. Hell, they tease you plenty for your own missing features, like your lack of armor scales and sharp teeth. They like to call you  “ squishy, ”  among other things.

You two have a good time. You enjoy each other’s company. And you’re very glad that they’re here. This isolation would be excruciating if you were actually fully isolated. Luckily for you, too, your wyrm buddy can’t be affected by the dangers that so keep you separated from the outside world, so they can go out and fetch supplies, should you find your stocks running low.

However, right now, they’re trying to snooze. Their serpentine form is balled up on top of––and around––your couch, the furniture lost completely within the coils.

“ Reo . . .. ”  the familiar name rolls off of your tongue, vowels drawn out in something resembling a whine. The massive mound of black scales doesn’t move. Frowning, you nudge at a coil gently with your toes.  “ Reo, you’re in–––– ” 

“ If you say my name one more time, I’m going to bury you. ”  Their voice is muffled through the seemingly endless and beginning-less yards of scale.

Yeesh. Touchy. You mock them silently with a sneer.  “ Okay, okay, geez. I just need to get past you. ”  

“ Go around. ” 

Obviously you would have if you could. Maybe you have been bothering them for the past half hour or so, constantly wandering around in search for something to do. They can’t blame you! You’re bored! None of your games and books sound appealing, window-watching is just getting depressing, and they are trying to sleep. There is nothing left for you to do, save for trying to find something to clean or reorganize or otherwise mess with.

“ I can’t. You’re blocking the hallway. ”  You huff and cross your arms.

“ Go over. ” 

“ I didn’t want to disturb you. ”

“ And yet, here you are. ”

Maybe it sounds a little callous, but you know they’re only being cranky. You roll your eyes and shrug. Alright. If they say so. The segment of body blocking your way is only about knee high, and not much wider than it is tall. It’s by no means difficult to step over. You were just trying to be polite. Guess that didn’t work out too well, hunh?

Whatever. Obstacle cleared. Now you can go find something in the back half of the house to do.

. . ..

Or not.

Not five minutes later, you’re back at the hallway entrance. This time, you don’t even bother to ask before stepping over. Reo doesn’t stir.

Nor do they move when you cross them again after another few minutes. And then again. And then again. Man, there really is just nothing to do in this house!

Another two minutes of pacing around aimlessly in the back, and yet again you head down the hallway, approaching the scaly barrier. As is now normal for you, you step high and get your foot to the other side without issue, without suspect. What you fail to notice in time, though, is that the main mound of coils has shifted.

Before you can so much as scream, you catch a glimpse at a deep purple, and then your vision is filled with darkness. A pressure clamps down right over your head and neck and part of your chest. You squirm for a moment, shocked and confused, and feel hot, wet, fleshy surfaces push around you, quickly enveloping you. It doesn’t take but a second for your head to enter a tight, slippery chute, your shoulders quick to follow, and then you feel your feet leave the linoleum floor.

Panic.

You don’t know what’s happening, but you kick your legs and try your best to wriggle. The chute squeezes tighter around you, pulling you in further until you’re waist-deep. Your hands thrash uselessly against your thighs and feel around, trying to discern anything. You think you can feel something hard amidst the slime and the squish, but you don’t get to ponder over it much. The chute shifts around you, and you’re lifted further until you’re completely vertical and upside-down! That finally manages to force a grunt from your lungs, but not a full scream just yet. No, your world is still moving too much. The chute squeezes more, and seems to bounce up and down, each fall sending you deeper in. Not three seconds pass before your knees reach the chute opening. Now your legs are pinned together. Vainly, you try to kick while you can still feel the air on your feet, but those too slip in shortly after.

Now you have it in you to scream. The tight space makes it difficult, but you have enough air in your lungs still to manage a hoarse cry. The chute around you twists and contorts, easily forcing you along and overpowering your efforts to resist your descent. You yell for help. You yell for Reo. Someone. Anyone!

Though it feels like forever, it can’t have been more than maybe ten, fifteen––twenty tops––seconds before the winding chute narrows into an even tighter band that stretches around you, and serves as a gateway into a slightly roomier space. Slightly. Once you’ve been shoved in fully, the squeezing and contorting stop. Well . . . they don’t stop; the walls around you still move, like whatever your in is moving around, but you’re no longer being passed through it. Your movement has stopped. And, though the space around you only grants you minimal wiggle room, you fucking wiggle. It feels like a wet, slimy, wrinkly, tight sleeping bag in here, and it smells!

“ Reolzre! Can you hear me? Help! ”  The air is hot and humid, but surprisingly breathable. You twist your head one way, then the other, trying and failing to see anything in the darkness.

“ Yes, I can hear you, ”  hums the familiar voice. Strangely, it sounds like it’s coming from right next to you, beyond the walls of whatever gross prison you’ve been stuffed into. You wriggle and manage to turn onto your side, hands pushing against the wall. Its wrinkles squelch and pulse against your palms. It doesn’t feel quite like the outside is moving anymore, though the bag around you still churns gently. Where the hell are you?

“ Reo! Reo, I––I don’t know what happened! Where am I? Get me out of here! ”  You slap at the wall, thinking it might help the wyrm better locate you.

“ I’ll let you out after I’ve had a nap, ”  they say.  “ Stop squirming so much. You’re fine. You can breathe, yes? ” 

“ Y-yeah, I can breathe––– ”  pause. Hard stop.  “ Wait––‘ let ’? You will let me out after a nap? What the shit does that mean? ”  Again you pound against the fleshy wall, but, this time, the walls shrink up against you, nearly as tight as the chute. You manage to choke out a strangled noise of protest.

“ You were annoying me with your constant moving about, so I swallowed you. ”  The wyrm speaks so casually, like they didn’t just say something absolutely ridiculous and terrifying.  “ You are going to stay there now, where you can’t move around, so I can get some sleep. ”

For a long moment, you don’t say anything. You almost don’t believe them. There’s no way they swallowed you. There’s no way you’re in theur stomach right now. But, as the bag recedes to its normal tightness, you rub your hands along the walls. The wrinkles, the sliminess, the smell, the tight chute that brought you here . . . by the gods, the wyrm fucking ate you! You are in their stomach!

“ Reolzre, the Calm, if you don’t let me out right fucking now––– ”  And again, the walls tighten just as you start to thrash. Your face squishes against the wrinkly surface, and you grimace. Still, you manage to mumble,  “ How could you eat me? ”

“ Stop. Gods, please stop. Relax. All that squirming isn’t going to do you any good. ”  The outside starts moving again, no-doubt Reo shifting positions to be more comfortable with their unruly meal.  “ I’m not going to kill you. Had I actually wanted to do that, you’d have felt my teeth and beak. I just want a nap. That’s it. Then I’ll spit you back up. ”

They have a point. You won’t admit it aloud, but they do have a point. Their teeth––now you realize what that hard thing was you felt when you were in their mouth; it was a tooth––must have been tucked and folded back so they didn’t dig into you at all. Save for the uncomfortable tightness of the chute, it was a quick and entirely painless journey. They made considerable effort not to hurt you.

You still don’t like it though.

“ I sleep better on a full stomach anyway. Get comfortable, Squishy. ”  Oh, that sounded cheeky.

That’s it.  “ You bastard. When I get out of here, I’m going to skin you and make armor out of your scales! Let me out, you overgrown noodle! ”  To hell with their nap. You have no intentions of giving them any peace while they’ve got you stuck in here.