#so much vore you have no idea

[vore-scientist]

im still alive

im still PhD'ing

[mysticcomfort]

Happy vore day from me and @theprotectivepred

[tummietown]

one of these days i'll post a finished vore/endo drawing

that day is not today! here are some whiteboard doodles + another thing teehee,,

[novorehere]

Bite-Sized Tidbits:

A snapshot of what life might look like with the seven avatars of sin. Contains a lot of fluff, a little angst, and soft/safe vore with you and the seven Obey Me! brothers. I’ve been working on this on and off for quite a while now, so I hope you enjoy.

Word count: 2096. Written for Vore Day, 2023

—

—

Pride

“I can give you your punishment now, or we can wait until later.”

The edges of the demon’s lips crept up into the beginnings of a smirk. All without breaking his gaze from the stack of documents which he straightened against his desk with a tap tap tap.

“However, I will be leaving for tea with Lord Diavolo as soon as my work is finished. So unless you’d like to spend the evening with Barbatos’ chiffon cake, I’d recommend making up your mind in a timely manner.”

Both of you knew very well that “punishment” wasn’t the right word. Lucifer’s infrequent office calls were less of a punishment and moreso a game, an unspoken routine in which you continuously tested the Avatar of Pride’s patience by indulging his younger brothers’ schemes.

It was a game that toyed with the balance of power, one where you pretended like he couldn’t just shrink you down whenever he wanted and that you couldn’t order him to stop with a single word. It was a game that indulged his pride, one that Lucifer would always win in the end.

It was only a matter of minutes before you were seated in his gloved palm. His ruby eyes lording over you with a gaze that anyone else would find annoyingly high-handed. But after playing his game for so long, to you the affection hiding behind them was obvious.

“Are you ready then, my Lamb?”

He was the morning star, eldest of the seven rulers of the underworld.

Yet despite all of this, Lucifer knew it was you who had him utterly wrapped around your little finger.

—

Greed

Reclining his head against the arm of his couch, the Avatar of Greed kissed his fingertips in mock satisfaction at the burp that rolled up his throat. A barely audible complaint of “gross” only caused him to chuckle and pat his stomach triumphantly.

“Maybe ya shoulda thought about that before bein’ so damn filling.”

A sound like “Guh” escaped the demon’s mouth as a swift kick to his liver interrupted his musings.

“Oi! The Great Mammon’s gonna start chargin’ 10,000 Grimm for damages every time ya do that!” Ya oughta learn some basic respe-”

And there it was, the familiar flutter of tiny fingers rubbing circles into him from inside. Perhaps it was your way of saying sorry… though more likely you just wanted to shut him up. It was annoying how easily you could reduce him to a blushing mess without uttering a single word.

“Hey… ‘s not fair. You’re playin’ dirty…”

Mammon rolled onto his side in an uncharacteristically gentle motion. He couldn’t help sneaking an indulgent glance at the scene reflected in his mirror. There he was, splayed out amongst piles of his belongings with his shirt ridden up and his belly rounded in his lap. If any of his brothers saw him like this, he would never hear the end of their teasing. But luckily for Mammon, not even you could know the way his face became soft as he teased a finger around his navel too gently for you to feel.

“Why’d ya stop? C’mon, now… keep goin’.”

It didn’t matter how much Mammon gambled away or how many centuries it had been since he’d hit the jackpot at the casino. When he was with you, Mammon felt like the luckiest demon in the three realms.

But sometimes it was hard to put it into words. Which is exactly why he treasured moments like these, the moments where his greed got the better of him. The moments where he could steal you away to be his and his alone.

After all, it was much easier to express how madly in love with you he’d become when he didn’t have to meet you face to face.

—

Envy

“You know, this is just like that one scene in ‘My Life as a Shut-In Reincarnated as a Worker in the Shopping Mall Dimension’ where Prince Alfonso goes to the food court kingdom and-”

Leviathan groaned, burying his face into his body pillow as if that could somehow hide him from the voice in his middle.

“You can’t use my own otaku tactics against me, it’s… *hic-* it’s not fair!!”

Your muffled laughter reverberated off the walls of his bathtub, accompanied by the occasional hiccup and the tip of a serpentine tail nervously thumping against porcelain.

He didn’t mean for his horns to sprout from his head when you tried to leave his room that night. He didn’t mean for a serpentine tail to wrap around your ankle, wordlessly begging you to stay. And he certainly didn’t mean for his stomach to loudly vocalize the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind the entire night. What was this, some sort of tropey romance manga?

But here he was, face as red as a bouquet of queen of jealousy and stuffed to the (decidedly metaphorical) gills in his own bathtub. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, reduced to a blushing, hiccuping mess. And he had nobody but himself to blame.

But really, how could he have resisted? Especially with the visions of what could have happened instead playing through his head on repeat. Asmo whisking you away to some club filled with normies who could actually hold a real conversation, Mammon snatching you up for an unauthorized night drive in his Demonio 666 Lexura, Beel getting a little too peckish and… he couldn’t bear to think about it.

Leviathan knew wanting to be your one and only was unreasonable. He knew that he was a terrible, horrible friend for thinking these thoughts and becoming so troubled at the prospect of anyone else showing you affection. That no one would ever want to be with a miserable, pathetic joke of a shut-in that wasn’t worth the scum in Henry’s tank-

But as soon as they had come, the negative thoughts washed away like a speck in the ocean as you snuggled closer to his hand, a muffled voice reassuring him that there was no place you’d rather be tonight.

—

Wrath

“With a flourish the detective tipped his hat to the dame, as he disappeared into the evening fog like the curls of smoke which danced from his pipe…”

The demon’s inner monologue was cut short as a violent squirming sensation roused him from his novel. Your ears detected the unmistakable sound of a huff and a book closing, muffled by layers of flesh and fabric.

“Restless as ever, I see…”

Normally, Satan would be more than offended to have his attention ripped from the pages of a good book. But this time the annoyance that swelled in his chest turned not into rage, but affection as the fire settled in his stomach and melted away… You tended to have that effect on him.

The blonde sighed fondly, gazing down at the bump in his sweater.

“…Would you like me to read aloud to you? Perhaps that will help you settle some.”

Pulling the covers up a bit higher around his navel, he tucked them in snugly around his sides. A rare smile crossed Satan’s face as he admired his handiwork. The man reached over to his nightstand, finding there exactly what he was looking for in the dim light. A paperback atop the haphazard piles of hardcovers strewn about, placed there with care as not to crease the art on the cover he knew you loved so much.

With both of you tucked in for the night, it was easier than ever to melt into the gentle rumble of his voice.

“Our story begins in a world of monsters…”

—

Lust:

Asmodeus knows that true beauty comes from within. How could it not, when the skin of the human that emerges from his lips always feels so much softer and smoother than before? He makes sure to bring it to your attention every time, doting over how the glow of his inner beauty rubs off on you so easily. Despite everything, he thinks you look so gorgeous lying in his palm. Layers of mucus, tired bags under your eyes, and all.

But sometimes it’s hard to feel beautiful inside or out with wings dyed black and pointed horns replacing the light of your halo.

—

A delicate, painted fingertip wipes a stray bead of drool from your face. The other hand is busy at your head, gently combing the tangles from your still-damp hair with the tiniest heart-shaped hairbrush. Asmodeus had been ecstatic the day it arrived, practically bowling over Levi before snatching the Akuzon package from his arms with a squeal.

It was a ritual at this point, the way he pampered you after letting you out. Swaddling you in a soft, lilac-scented hand towel warmed by the gentle breeze of his hairdryer, wiping you clean as he hummed a familiar tune.

“Baby, you want my love


No matter who you are


I want you to show me


I fell in love with someone


Besides myself for the first time”

He didn’t need to be the “Jewel of the Heavens” with you as his jewel, a precious pearl to tuck away beside his heart where all the things he loves live.

And he had so, so much love to give.

—

Gluttony

Beelzebub was on the verge of snapping when you came to him.

He was breathing heavily when you found his monstrous, horned silhouette hunched over the empty refrigerator. Frightened eyes were glazed over with a hunger that threatened to swallow you up with their very gaze. His mouth opened in a silent plea, perhaps an apology, but it was drowned out by the roar of his stomach.

Sometimes it felt as if no amount of food could put out the fire that raged within him. The burning sensation could only be briefly dulled by each cooling mouthful that slid down his throat. But then it was gone, claimed by the emptiness inside him that demanded “more.”

But you… you were different.

Simply being around you made him feel full, and for that he was ever grateful. But sometimes he needed more than a feeling. He needed to be sure you were there, to know that you were alive. To feel the weight of that missing piece that left him the day that he fell.

But despite what he needed, he still required your explicit permission to take it.

“…Can I?”

“You may.”

With your words, Beelzebub gave himself over to his gluttony. It was primal, animalistic… but one thing was for certain.

No demon in hell could devour you as lovingly as he did that night.

—

Sloth

Beneath the attic room comforter, an incoherent mumble could be heard from a demon-sized lump in the sheets.

Belphegor rolled onto his stomach as he nestled deeper into his nest of blankets. It didn’t take long at all for a lazy smile to crawl across the Avatar of Sloth’s face. Even though you were undoubtedly squashed in this position, he could still feel your tiny hands working their magic just like he had asked.

Oh, how you spoiled him rotten.

It was hard not to with the way Belphegor expressed his desires so plainly. To borrow your jacket to use as a pillow, to keep quiet to Lucifer about skipping classes, to stroke his hair while he lay on your lap. The others weren’t too thrilled with your coddling, but Belphie couldn’t care less.

After all, they had gotten so much more time with you than he had. They got to know you, to love you, to taste you… all before you even knew his name.

Belphegor was the Avatar of Sloth, not envy. But there was once a time when the unmistakable tingling warmth of his twin indulging in you left the bitter aftertaste of jealousy on his tongue. It was a strange feeling, his brother’s affection for a human. One that, until recently, he couldn’t quite understand. And at the time, he had no desire to.

Nowadays the sensation was far from unwelcome. But ever since that night at the castle when he gifted you his pact, Belphegor had found that he much preferred having you all to himself in person. All to himself…

A small yawn escaped the youngest’s mouth as mind wandered to his twin. Could he feel it too, he wondered? The phantom weight of your touch?

…Perhaps he’d ask Beel about it later. But for now, he had an extremely important nap to get to.

—

Neither of you were conscious enough to know it, but that night as Beelzebub carried his brother down to his own bed and tucked him in, he whispered not one, but two good-nights.

[cyncerity]

Okay okay look they give me brainrot but:

Sapnap noms Karl and Q as like his way of flirting (classic line of 'your just so cute I couldn't help but eat you up' or whatever-)

YES YES YES YES ABSOLUTELY

ignore the fact that I only drew Karl, i didn’t wanna draw two people and Q and Sap already have their own nom story and ignore that I can’t write flirty dialogue so i did icons instead

but YES SAPNAP DOES THIS. at first it’s kind of a joke cause they all know that Sapnap could just ask like a normal person but no, he has pickup lines now. Q and Karl think it’s funny at first cause the pickup lines also started as a joke, but then Sapnap got more serious and flirty and both of them kind of had a “shit this is hotter than it should be” moment.

Karl especially is a lot more receptive to it than he first thought he’d be

[intestinalemphasis]

Concepts and such of vore and pred functionality in a modern-day society:

Preds only make up about 2% of the global population, with nearly a third of them entirely legally abiding or on supplemental aid to prevent prey consumption. However, those that do fit the full parameters of preds still must live by laws surrounding prey.

Predators that are registered as such can be fed through a special form of healthcare that provides them with adequate prey consumption - so long as they comply with modern day laws surrounding themselves. They must eat an amount of human meat for their own health, so it is provided to them, in the least reckless fashion available to their society.

Prey from said healthcare programs fall into specific categories that deem them meal-worthy to preds. Criminal records, mainly, are what make up their source of food. Both prey and the occasional pred that broke a rule and got caught, and is now the food for the next law-abiding preds to slurp on.

On some occurrences, 'volunteer' prey is also an option. These are rarer, but not unheard of.

More hands-on hunters group programs exist as well, generally containing "CYOP" (Catch Your Own Prey) setups. During these, labeled prey is released into a simulated encounter (a home, a field, etc) for the pred to hunt down. This is a good option for preds that wish to hunt for sport or have to meet extra dietary needs.

It's considered 'taboo' to an extent to consensually eat anyone that isn't already considered prey by the law (think equivalent to sex outside of wedlock) though more and more people are coming around to it as it becomes presented to the public in safer fashion (ie safer vore as opposed to digestion). It's also become more common to hide the fact that some places, namely restaurants, run out of legal prey and start using substitutions...

Of course, cases of unwilling prey being eaten are still rampant and common. Sneaky preds with no reason to follow rules are always slinking about, stuffing strangers into their guts for fun. They're caught sometimes, but rarely. If the food is already half-digested in your stomach when they find you...well, they can't prove anything, can they? (*Gurgle*...)

Specialty clinics make it possible to readjust your own bodily needs, for preds to become uncompelled to eat prey, or prey to become preds. These may not always be foolproof, as some instincts are stronger than others, but the success rates are high for prey turned pred, and just above 50/50 for pred turned non-pred.

Most parts of the world (but not all) have created laws pertaining to which individuals are and are not allowed to be considered prey, often during specific time frames. It's commonly illegal to eat any form of important working personnel, ie doctors, and anyone in public places are on non-consuming sectors.

Some places do have silly laws, however, that are severely outdated and often forgotten to be changed, giving preds workarounds. It may be lawful in some areas to consume a person in their own home after they've allowed you into it. In other places, if a person owes you an amount over a certain number that isn't returned by a certain amount of time, you may be legally allowed to consume them.

Depending on whether you're into them, tinies are available widely at various markets and fast food chains, as they are quick to clone and harvest. Tinies are almost exclusively labeled as pred food, and farms grow hoards of them to maturity to be sent off to productions for hungry, waiting bellies. The life of a Tiny is to grow and get stuffed to make someone else stuffed.

Special events and marked areas allow for free-for-all gatherings, meaning that anyone is at risk of being a prey and getting eaten. These areas have special means of marking off special personnel to make them non-ingestible, but if you aren't in those parameters you are at your own risk. Vore conventions often have this setup, with VIP passes purchasable to protect wearers. Be aware that they are in limited supply, however.

Places like clubs are common ground for voracious activity as well, as many discreetly make a living off of it. Performers are often preds secretly hired to eat customers and keep their funds, so unsuspecting viewers are additionally at their own risks.

Lastly, in some small parts of the world it may be considered sacrificial and hold religious value to devour or be devoured by someone, often a highly renowned individual. This is also considered protected and allowed in most areas, though there's often trouble with proclaimed high individuals making out with an over-abundant supply of followers...

[roseytoesy]

Disvord snippets 50

number 50! lets gooo! And for this one, we have 3 huge blurbs about music, tastes, and performing with voreish twists!

*first idea. Different musical talents taste different! Say like a specific prey sings heavy rock music. They taste sharp and tangy. Or maybe a pop singer. They could taste sweet or somewhat spicy. This could also work for instrument players! Like say… a violin player tasting very sweet and light. Maybe with some subtle undertones depending on how they play. Like a fiddler would have very strong flavors that fade after a bit. And classical is steady and mellow. Most string instrument players taste light and sweet. Brass players taste slightly metallic (obviously) and have more bold and sudden spice flavors. Woodwinds are very light as well but with more Smokey and meaty? Flavors to them. Percussion obviously is strong flavors and accents. Some taste like energy drinks. Some like ranch or like peppers. Some could even taste like something exotic

*Second idea. A prey is panicking and they need somewhere to hide from the world so the pred swallows them and tries to get them to calm down with some breathing but it seems the prey can’t hear them over their panic. So they use the universal language that anyone can understand. They start to sing. They sing their heart out about how much they care and are worried for the prey. How they want to be there for them and are here around them. The prey may not hear them at first but the vibrations and gentle voice full of care and love would help them calm and as they relax they can finally hear the lyrics and they can’t help but smile and snuggle deeper to feel and hear more of those soft words.

*third idea. Imagine a pred who has amazing talent but is so scared and has stage fright. So what better way to have moral support than from the inside. Maybe they have to sing in front of an audience. Their little friend will be there to help them breathe and ground themselves. Maybe they just focus on their prey as they sing and maybe they even forget they are in front of an audience and start to enjoy the thing they were dreading before. The prey rubbing when they get too tense and even pushing or pulling the walls behind them to help remind the pred to breathe.

[toast-tales]

In The World of Monsters, P10

Read on A03  |  Chapter masterlist can be found here

Danny and Christopher find themselves in an odd new living situation. How will this new “trust exercise” go? ~4000 words, g/t, some mouthplay and mention of vore (soft, safe). 

Domestic Life

Christopher's face was too close for Danny's comfort. She worried she had given him the wrong idea—she noticed his mouth part slightly at the end of his sentence.

"Woah, woah, woah. Not right now. I have been inside of too many people in the last twenty-four hours. I think I need some space."

She thought she saw a bit of a pout—like he was going to keep begging her or something—before he backed off, sitting fully upright but still looking at her. Not in a hungry way anymore. More...bemused.

"That's understandable, I suppose. I'm just glad you understand the nature of the situation."

"Yeah, and I bet you're real torn up about that, aren't you, mister 'doesn't-have-an-antidote'? What kind of a second-rate dealer are you?"

Christopher looked almost offended. "Hey now, growth serums aren't exactly common, even among dealers. And there's even less of a market for antidotes. You should be glad I have the connections to get you an antidote at all."

"Hmph," Danny grumbled, taking a corner of the giant hand towel and wrapping it around her. Her wet clothes were still rather uncomfortable, and it was beginning to chill her skin.

Christopher smiled as he saw her huddle into the towel. "Let me get you some new clothes, dollface." She watched him disappear into his bedroom and heard him rummage around in a few drawers for a bit before reappearing, this time with a small wooden box about as big as his hand.

Danny looked at it curiously.

"Let's see...well, I have no guarantees on sizing, but some of these might fit you, you're fairly skinny though..." Christopher rifled through the box's contents before stopping suddenly, then smacking himself in the head. "Whoops. Totally forgot about your little growth spurt. These are all useless."

"Where did you get a box of human clothes?"

Christopher gave her a quizzical look, as if that wasn't the question he expected her to ask. "Well, there's not a lot of demand for human stuff up here, but there are a few human traders who carry a wide assortment of stuff like this. They generally only trade with other humans, but I have connections. Well, had, anyways..." Christopher trailed off, heading back into his room.

She guessed it made sense—the human who had smuggled her into that bar had done so in exchange for protection, right? Maybe he had helped Christopher get other things, too. Danny shuddered. She hadn't really thought about Christopher's human smuggler before. Did he live here too? Did Christopher know he was the one to kidnap her last night?

"Hey...um..." Danny tried to raise her voice so that he'd hear her from the other room.

"Hm?" It sounded like Christopher was still looking around in his room. Did he actually have larger clothes somewhere?

"Do you...does that other human...live here? You know, the one who..."

Christopher cut her off immediately. "No. After the little stunt he pulled last night, I don't think Max will be coming around again. I, ah, ended his contract, so to speak." He grinned devilishly.

"Did you eat him?!" Danny's voice squeaked, a bit more accusatory than she intended.

Christopher passed in front of the doorway, and she saw his face contort in disgust as he strode to the other side of his room. "Eugh, no. Oh, but speaking of which..." She heard a small rattling sound before he emerged from his room, this time holding a very small...well, it looked like a giant-size prescription bottle. He unscrewed the cap and placed it on the table. "Here. Take one and drink up."

Danny looked inside the clear plastic container. Inside, there were tiny, human-sized vials of some sort of bluish liquid. They were still very tiny to her—maybe half the size of her finger. "What the fuck is that?"

"Scent-masking serum. Humans use it to hide their scent from giants. I used to give this to my, uh...employee." Christopher looked embarrassed. "I doubt it'll work at your size, and I don't think it's safe to take more than one at a time. But we might as well see what it does though, hm?"

Danny carefully picked out a vial and eyed the contents suspiciously. It looked like antifreeze. "Well, I'm sure you know what you're doing..." She unscrewed the top of the vial and swallowed the tiny amount of liquid, then nearly coughed it all back up immediately. It took effort to choke it down. "It tastes like shit."

Christopher held a finger up and glanced away as if he was focusing on something. She watched him inhale deeply, then sigh. "Well, at least I tried. It does cover your smell up a little bit, but not enough." Despite his disappointment, he was clearly trying to suppress a grin. She got the distinct impression he had been fully expecting this result anyways.

Danny gingerly placed the empty vial on the table. "How do you even keep track of human stuff this small? This may as well be like...I don't know, a grain of sand to you."

Christopher laughed. "I had Max count those things and package them for me. I tried doing it myself before, but let me tell you, inventory was a bitch. Mostly just tweezers and swearing."

"So, do you have any clothes for me, or...?"

"Well, the short answer is no. The long answer is, I could probably make some, but in the meantime, I'll wash your other clothes and, ah...well, a hair dryer will probably work in a matter of minutes." He gave her a once-over, as if he was judging the state of her worn-out clothes and pondering something. "Is that...the only pair of clothes you have?"

"Of course it's the only pair. Where am I supposed to get human clothes in a giant city, moron? Nathan doesn’t exactly know how to sew."

"But I do." A strangely thoughtful expression settled on Christopher's face. "Once you get back to your regular size, I could probably supply some more clothes for you." Just when Danny thought he sounded halfway sincere, he added with a smirk, "...if you asked nicely."

Danny just gave him an ugly sneer in return.

Before he could make another smart comment, a loud growl escaped Christopher's stomach. He sounded starved, and Danny watched as he gripped his stomach and winced, as if in pain.

"...you good?" Danny asked, hesitantly.

"I ah...just remembered I didn't eat anything yesterday. Except you, of course." Christopher's grimace morphed into the hint of his signature teasing grin. "I should...probably take care of that. I bet you're hungry too, aren't you?"

Danny had a retort ready for his previous comment, but she couldn't deny the hunger clawing at her own stomach. "Yeah. What, do you cook actual food, or am I gonna have to scrounge around for crumbs?"

Christopher chuckled. "Of course I can cook, dollface. My line of work requires a...refined sense of taste, after all." Danny noticed his tongue slide over his teeth through his barely-parted lips, probably in a teasing gesture. She repressed a shudder, and quickly broke eye contact with him.

He moved to the fridge, getting out various vegetables, a carton of eggs, and a few containers of something. "You can eat omelets, right?"

The word omelet made her stomach growl hungrily. "I'd kill for an actual omelet." Nathan had fed her, of course, but she didn't get the impression he could cook himself. He had mostly given her small slices of meat, cheese, and fruit, but hardly anything prepared. He'd said something about it being "too suspicious." Danny couldn't actually remember the last time she had something close to a home-cooked meal.

The scent of the food sizzling in the pan on the stove nearby was making Danny's mouth water. As Christopher's back was to her, she sighed, finally giving in to the discomfort and stripping her shirt and pants off of her, but keeping her undergarments firmly in place. She still kept the towel wrapped tightly around her, but at least now she was mostly dry.

Christopher only gave a cursory glance to her pile of wet clothes before placing a giant-sized plate on the table in front of Danny with the largest omelet she had ever seen on it. It looked fluffy and delicious, with cheese and vegetables poking out from the seams and some sort of sauce drizzled on top of it.

"Um...yeah, I can't eat that whole thing."

"Good thing we're sharing, then, doll." Christopher cut off a relatively small corner of the omelet, then, after some consideration, cut that portion into even tinier pieces. "I don't have any silverware for you, so you're just going to have to use your hands. Don't worry, I won't judge."

I'm too hungry to care. Danny immediately sat down next to the plate and started shoving the bite-size chunks of omelet into her mouth. It was probably the tastiest thing she'd ever had in her life. Christopher seemed to be eating just as ravenously—he must have meant it when he said he hadn't eaten anything yesterday. He must have been in a real sorry state.

I still don't feel bad for you, asshole. But Danny couldn't summon the usual amount of vitriol anymore. Everything was so strange. Here she was, wrapped up in a giant hand towel, eating an omelet off of the plate of a human-smuggling giant. A giant she...well, not a giant she liked, but at the very least, she certainly was appreciative that she wasn't being digested in the stomach of a different strange, gross giant right about now.

That canNOT be where the bar is.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Christopher grinned and twirled his fork in his fingers, his elbow resting on the table as he stared at Danny.

"Fuck no," Danny spat, stuffing her face with more omelet to avoid conversation. She had run out of bite-size pieces, and instead started grabbing handfuls off of Christopher's larger portion. He saw this, but just shrugged and continued eating until the omelet was gone.

After the last bites of food vanished, both Danny and Christopher sat back in contentment. Christopher absently trailed his hand over his stomach in satisfaction. "Well? Was my cooking up to your standards?"

"It was fine." Danny felt a little bad after such a blatant lie. "Actually, it was the best omelet I've ever had. Maybe you should change careers," she said, spitting out the last word with no small amount of disdain.

Christopher looked oddly pensive at the suggestion. "You know, I hadn't even considered that. Cooking's just a hobby for me."

"Now that we're on the subject, are you still planning on smuggling humans? Or did you actually take Nathan's advice?" Danny crossed her arms. 

Christopher looked down at the table, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. He didn't respond right away. "No, I'm not. I already told you I cut ties with my human employee, and believe it or not, outside of you, I don't have any other humans on hand." He paused, his eyes narrowed slightly at something in the distance. "And I cancelled all my client appointments. Indefinitely." 

Danny's eyes widened, not actually expecting him to admit to quitting his trade. I'm not buying it. "Why?" she asked, a hardened edge to her voice. 

He gave her a curious look, raising a single eyebrow at her inquiry. "Business has been...well, slow, since Cyrus started his own little smuggling ring. Pretty much all of my regulars have been going to him, because he's cheaper. And he's been having his own little minions clearing the town of any humans they can find. You're frankly quite lucky you weren't one of them."

"Yeah. Lucky." Danny glared at Christopher, her scowl only causing him to grin slightly. "So it's just convenient for you, isn't it? You didn't actually have a change of heart," she scoffed.

"I mean, I didn't have to take care of you," he smirked, resting his chin on his hand. "Or rescue you. I think that ought to count for something, hm?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, congratulations, you're doing the bare minimum. Let me break out the participation trophy for you." She narrowed her eyes in a challenge. "You think that's enough to make things up to Nathan?"

He returned her gaze, coldly. "And what, exactly, do I have to do to prove myself?"

Danny rose to her feet, keeping her eyes fixed to Christopher's. "Let's see how far your little 'change of heart' goes." She crossed her arms, her towel falling to the table as she did so. She ignored it. "Those other humans, in Cyrus's place. I met one of them when I was there. You want to show Nathan you actually give a shit about humans?"

Christopher cocked his head quizzically, interrupting her before she had a chance to finish her statement. "You're asking if I'm willing to help recover all of Cyrus's stock, aren't you?"

"The other humans. Yeah."

"That's a tall order, dollface." Christopher's eyebrows knitted together. "Let's just say Cyrus and I aren't exactly on the best of terms, and even if we were, buying up all those humans would cost much more than I have, especially if I didn't plan on returning them. I might as well give him my house."

"I'm not saying buy the other humans, asshole. I'm saying rescue them. They're all there against their will and treated like shit. Surely you could come up with something."

Christopher shook his head. "You'd be asking me to attempt the impossible."

"Nathan told me human smuggling was illegal, right? Can't you just...I don't know, report him to the authorities?"

Christopher laughed mirthlessly. "If my goal was just to shut him down, I suppose I could, but if I cared about the humans, I couldn't guarantee they wouldn't just end up somewhere worse. It's all rumors, of course, but I've heard that the government is more wrapped up in the human smuggling business than anyone. They'd put on a show of locking Cyrus up while taking all of his stock—sorry, all of the humans—for themselves."

"Bastards." Danny glared at the table. "Well, I'm going to keep thinking of a plan. If you ever feel like doing the right thing, feel free to contribute some ideas." Danny turned around—she didn't feel like looking Christopher in the face.

As if he could read her mind, Christopher grabbed her torso and spun her around with one hand, using one of his long fingers to tilt her face up to make direct eye contact with him. She resisted the urge to bite it. "Hey, hey now, I didn't say I wouldn't help. I just said it wouldn't be easy." She didn't know what to make of his expression then—not teasing, not a hint of a smirk, but something that seemed slightly pained. His eyebrows furrowed. "But if it matters that much to you, I'll at least try to think of a way, alright?"

"Since when do you care about my feelings?" Danny seethed. Just when she thought she could tolerate Christopher a little more, he had to go and say something stupid like that. Anger boiled inside her. "'If it matters that much to you.' As far as I can see, you're only being nice to me for Nathan's sake. That's the only reason you went and saved my life, too. Am I wrong?"

Christopher was silent for a minute as he retracted his hand from her, his face unreadable. "You know what? I don't know." There was a long pause, and Danny couldn't think of anything to say to break the sudden chill in the room. "A few days ago, I was a completely different person. And you were just a really, really delicious human. Maybe I am only being nice to you for Nathan. Or...maybe he was what helped me figure out I was wrong. The way he cares about you...I'm jealous, dollface. And I don't know which of you I'm more jealous of, at this point."

Danny choked on her own snarky retort again. She hadn't expected him to be this...honest.

He leaned closer to her, and the serious look in his eyes made her almost flinch away. "I enjoyed seeing the fear in your eyes. The helpless look on your face. The way your body trembled in my fingers." His warm breath washed over Danny, and the memory of his dark, predatory eyes boring into her made a quiver of fear spring up in her gut. She froze as his fingers gently stroked her hair.

"The truth is, I've never gotten so attached to a human before. It's true that I went after you because of Nathan. But something about the way that idiot Gary talked about you pissed me off. I've dealt lots of humans, but this was the first time I felt that someone didn't deserve a specific human. The way he was treating you—like some common drug for a quick high—was wrong. He didn't appreciate anything about you."

Her lip curled in contempt. "So what you're saying is, you only care about me so far as you appreciate the way I taste."

"Well, the taste certainly helps, sweetheart." Christopher made a show of taking her hand between his fingers and lifting it to his lips, leaving a gentlemanly kiss as he looked teasingly at her, watching for her reaction. She forced her features into stone, unwilling to let him get to her now. "But I don't think that's all, either. When you kicked my nose, despite it being completely pointless—remember that, doll? Or when you stood up for Nathan, even when you knew it meant I'd digest you. I've never met someone as reckless and passionate and loyal as you—human or giant. It scared me to think about how that bastard was just going to...take all that away forever."

The look in Christopher's eyes nearly made Danny lose her resolve—something between anger and despair.

He bent down closer to her again, and his lips brushed the top of her head as he spoke. "It made me want to hold you inside of me forever, and never let you out again."

Danny shuddered, but she couldn't accurately place the emotion behind it. Christopher moved his face directly in front of her, staring right into her eyes again. She gulped. Why wasn't she angry anymore? Why wasn't she afraid of the giant's lips resting so close to her face?

Without thinking, she felt her hands reach out to touch Christopher's soft top lip—mostly as a way to create some distance between them and keep him from getting closer. This seemed to surprise him—enough that he didn't move in response.

"...listen. I don't like you, asshole. I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be. But I think, at the very least...I don't hate you either. As much. I'm giving you a chance to be a halfway decent person, and I'm only giving you that chance because Nathan believes in you. And if you end up proving me wrong, I swear to god I'll find another growth serum and eat you for a change."

The thought made Christopher chuckle. "Noted. Does that mean you trust me, then?"

"'Trust' is a strong word. All I trust you to be at this point is a dick."

"Oh, well, if that's the case, I may as well play the part, hm?" Before Danny could process his words, he parted his lips slightly and then closed them around her hands, a malicious and self-satisfied grin forming as he dragged his tongue across them. Thankfully, he stopped there, and Danny quickly wrenched her hands out of the giant's greedy mouth, wiping the excess saliva off on the towel still nearby.

"Sorry, dollface. Couldn't help myself."

"Like I said, 'trust' is a strong word. So is 'tolerate'."

"Sounds like we need some trust exercises, then. And speaking of which, when are you going to let me eat you, sweetheart?" Christopher's face was the picture of innocence. Danny wondered how much energy he was having to exert to keep up that facade.

Danny hesitated. She looked at Christopher's full, soft lips, turned up in a smirk. Maybe...she could start small. The stomach and throat were their own monsters to deal with. Perhaps if she could get used to the cramped quarters of his mouth first, the rest would be easier...

Oh, fuck me, am I actually going to do this again?

She exhaled slowly, feeling a shakiness return to her limbs. I really don't want to do this, but I also know I need to...work on my claustrophobia for my own safety. And I hate feeling scared of you, bastard. "I don't want to go all the way today. Can we just..." She felt herself getting a bit physically sick, thinking of what she was going to say next—"can you just maybe hold me in your mouth first?"

Christopher's eyes brightened up eagerly, and the look made her stomach turn. "Right now?" His fingers brushed against her back, immediately ready to snatch her up.

She swallowed nervously, but fought her fear back. She had to. "I just want to get it over with, so you better hurry up before I change my mind." Danny closed her eyes. She could feel him picking her up gently, pressing her arms to her sides as he lifted her up to his eye level. She sat in his palm, her legs dangling over the edge of it.

She forced herself to look him in the eyes. "So first, obviously—don't swallow me. Second, go slowly. I need time to breathe and get used to it, okay? And third—wipe that smug grin off your face, you bastard. I'm not doing this for your enjoyment," Danny huffed. She wished she could have practiced this with someone nice like Nathan instead, but she knew Nathan would like it less than she did, and he'd probably be more likely to hurt her accidentally as a result.

"I know, I know...it's just a fortunate side effect." She watched in horror as Christopher absently flicked away a drop of saliva that threatened to escape his mouth. Oh, god, this was a mistake. He brought his lips closer to Danny, making her heartbeat threaten to escape her chest. "Now, should I go headfirst, or—"

"Yes," said Danny quickly, fighting the fear in her chest at the thought of it. "That's the only way this makes sense. Just...slowly, okay?"

"I can do slow," said Christopher with a smirk, stroking Danny's hair back as he placed his lips on top of her head. The warm air he exhaled made her skin shudder.

"Not slow like you're enjoying it, slow like—you know what, never mind, just do it already." Danny braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut and sucking in a large gulp of air. She felt Christopher's lips part and slide over her body, his huge tongue moving across her face and down her torso. He picked her up with his other hand, angling her to make the slide into his mouth easier.

His lips closed just around her shoulders, and her head was now completely inside his dark, wet, slimy mouth. She squirmed around, trying to get her arms in past his lips—thankfully, he seemed to understand what she was trying to do, and he relaxed his hold on her enough for her arms to move inside. She tried to use them to prop her head up off of his tongue, allowing her a little room to breathe.

Breathe. For some reason, this time was causing more anxiety to spike in her chest than the rest. All the other times she had been eaten, there had been something else to distract her from the immediate experience—fear and anger, mostly. Now, though, she was forced to focus on the sensation of being in Christopher's mouth, and all the unpleasantness that came with. The only thing she seemed to notice was how tight his lips held her shoulders, and how little room there was in here compared to the first few times, when she was smaller.

He slowly slid more of her torso in until he got to about her waist. Her head was balanced precariously on the edge of his tongue, much too close to the throat for her liking, but at least here there was a bit more space for her to breathe.

In and out, in and out...

She wondered if Christopher could feel the shaky contractions of her lungs, or the intense beating of her heart through his tongue.

I used to enjoy seeing the fear in your eyes. 

Danny tried to force her thoughts away from her inner panic, and towards Christopher. He didn't seem to be enjoying himself, well...any more than usual, she supposed. He was being surprisingly careful with her, not pressing her to the roof of his mouth or even moving his tongue too much. Perhaps it was simply because there was so much of her inside his mouth, but he was holding her still, his palm holding up her legs outside of him. She felt his saliva pool around her, and he seemed to be taking great pains to swallow it without jostling her too much. And, thankfully, his firm grip around her midsection kept her from going down with it.

He slowly opened his mouth a bit, letting in some air and light but still not moving Danny. The light illuminated his uvula and the back of his throat, which stared her in the face. She watched with morbid curiosity as the muscles of his throat expanded and contracted, seemingly widening of their own accord as if they could sense her there at the edge, inviting her downwards.

She closed her eyes and focused on nothing but her breathing—three seconds in, three seconds out. It was a cramped space, but she wasn't being squeezed like she was in the esophagus or the stomach, and with Christopher having his mouth a bit open, it was more manageable.

She realized that she was probably going to have to be the one to set the limit on this little "trust exercise," so after she felt her heartbeat finally calm down a bit, she gently kicked Christopher's palm. "Okay, that's enough. Let me out."

She gasped as Christopher shut his mouth and pressed her against the roof of it—not too forcefully, but sudden enough to put another spike in her heartbeat. She kicked his palm again, harder this time. "Hey—mphgm—" Her face pressed into his tongue and her words disappeared into the wet muscle. Thankfully, though, he was slowly dragging her out of his mouth, using his tightly closed lips and tongue to suck as much of the saliva off of her as possible on the way out.

When her head finally came back to the outside world, she doubled over, breathing in as much beautiful, beautiful air as possible and hugging her knees to her chest. She was resting on Christopher's palm, and she noticed him gently starting to wipe her off with the hand towel again. God fucking damnit, I'm going to have to wash myself off again.

"Well? How was that?" Christopher was looking much too pleased with himself as he dried Danny off.

"Oh, tons of fun," she quipped, yanking the towel away from him. "Nearly as much fun as that one time I got food poisoning. Or appendicitis. Or, ooh, maybe that time I got chased by a squirrel on my first day in this godforsaken, shitty-ass giant world."

Christopher smiled. "Don't worry doll. I enjoyed it enough for the both of us."

* * * * * * * * * *  

Part 11 -->

Hey guys. It’s definitely been a hot minute. I don’t know how frequently I’ll be able to update this story, but feel free to reach out to me about it if you are curious or if there’s something you want to see! What’s in store for our enemies-to-unlikely-housemates? We’ll see...

As a disclaimer, this chapter has been edited since its original posting.

[thefanciestborrower]

Why must people perceive this blog

It it not enough to simply scream vore thoughts into the void?

[new-preddsworld]

Currently thinking about ways Tord could tease Tom (regarding my first Tord preddcanons post).

He can invent things. Possibly a shrink ray. When Tord feels like having a small snack, he’ll use that shrink ray on Tom. He just has to catch Tom off guard, and obviously catch him before he figures out the situation and runs off. If Tord and Tom are alone in the house at that time, Tord’ll do things such as pressing Tom against his stomach so he can perfectly hear it rumbling and growling. Tord will then make comments about how delicious Tom is, and how his stomach is practically begging for him. Tom will of course squirm and attempt to push himself off, but it’s no good fighting back against him. If he’s in the mood for it, and there’s bacon in the house, Tord might even put Tom in the middle of a bacon sandwich, and eat him that way, though making sure he doesn’t accidentally bite down too hard on him. He enjoys Tom's squirming a great deal. And he sure as hell enjoys fearplay.

However, if anyone else is home, Tord’ll just settle for simple mouthplay. Shoving Tom inside his mouth and just toss him around with his tongue, pinning him to the roof of his mouth and licking him to taste him, you get the idea. He has been caught doing this by Edd twice before, and Edd demanded that he spit Tom up and reverse the shrink ray's effects. Tord only grudgingly obliged. The other time, Tord simply swallowed Tom out of sheer spite, and got the telling-off of his life from Edd. Not that he listened to any of it. He was much too busy savouring Tom's struggles to listen. Edd hasn’t really trusted Tom and Tord alone together after that.

[luckyshotwrites]

wait sorry if i just missed some lore but what’s a bind?

Hey hey! Let me see if I can help you out!

They were briefly talked about in Day 22 - Life Festival Day 1 (Oct. 7th, Friday) Part 3 between Alexander and Lynette.

And talked about a little more in Day 25 - All alone, are you? (Oct. 10th, Monday) Part 2 between Alexander and his doctor CJ.

There is a lot more with binds/certain kinds that have not explained but will once it comes to a certain chapter or two. So if you got caught up with these, you are in the lore loop, it simply has not been dived in enough. I cannot say anymore, because I feel the spoil coming on. xD

Thank you so much for the ask! I hope this answered it!! Have a NONNEGOTIABLE wonderful day!~~~

[thedevilspearl]

do you ever get the idea some of the brothers have a human kink? if so? who? i personally think lucifer and beelzebub. sometimes satan if he’s not thinking about committing manslaughter messing with lucifer!♡ (ꈍ ω ꈍ) ♡

-☽

the brothers with a human kink — most to least

a/n: i have to tell you, moon nonnie — i’m genuinely not sure with this one! it’s not something i’ve considered greatly before but when i think about the brothers with a human kink, i have a feeling they all have it, just to different extents. so i did a mtl if that’s okay ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

also i’ve been sick in bed all day, so thank you for this awesome idea to keep me going ₍⸝ ˃̵͈᷄ . ˂̵͈᷅ ₎⸝ ♡

tags: all brothers, no explicit smut but consistent discussion of kinks, so minors do not interact! other kink warnings — power play, mild predator/prey, vore, exhibitionism.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

lucifer’s human kink is so lowkey that he doesn’t realise it himself, but it’s actually the most prominent out of all the brothers. it’s the fact that humans are so fragile compared to demons; one wrong move could be fatal so it brings out his protective side. he wants to be by your side, watching your every move to ensure your safety and well–being. it’s innocent at first, but then comes the part where he wants to test your limits, both in and outside of the bedroom. how much can a human like you take from a demon like him?

𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐙𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐁

he’s always thought about eating you, it was one of his first thought when meeting you, in fact. of course, he would never but there’s a little pit of fire in his belly that warms him up in all the right places when he thinks about it, and how weak you would be against him if he ever gave into his desires. he’s vocal about this kink, telling you how he adores you and how yummy you look. now, in the bedroom, there are some real tests of faith because he can become so close to devouring you whole. but he is aware of how strong his human kink is, so he knows how much more control he needs around you, especially when every little thing you do can set him off.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

the power trip from a human kink is what gets mammon going. he knows for sure how powerful he is, and his self–restraint is incredible. he’s never going to hurt you at all, let alone with his demon powers. but there’s no harm in threatening you a little with it, right? it totally boosts his ego when he sees you get all fidgety when he brags about how strong he is, and how a silly human like you could never best him. but, and this is a big but, he finds it all the more thrilling when a silly human like you actually overpowers him. he’s not as strong against his human as he thought, and his human kink is raging when you put him in his place.

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐍

satan has a deep understanding of the difference between him and you. more than any of the brothers, he really acknowledges the power difference and he never wants to use that against you. and that is why he tries his hardest to never use the fact that you’re a human to sexualise you. he treats you as his equal, someone he would never use his power to take advantage of. however, if you were to suggest you were into it, he wouldn’t mind feeding his sinful desires and put you in your pitiful place. after all, what power does a human have to protest the demon of wrath?

𝐀𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐒

a human kink and exhibitionism come hand in hand with asmodeus. for him, it’s not entirely about power play like with some of the others but rather, he and he alone has the human every demon is after. he once was the most sought after, but now it’s you and it will always amaze him how a human could do that in a world where demons could destroy you in a second. you have the real power here, and he wants to flaunt that. walking side by side with everyone’s favourite human who looks at no one else but him... it makes him happy, and flustered. he relishes in everyone’s gaze towards the two of you. it’s a match that shouldn’t work, but it does and it excites him. he wants to show them everything.

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

belphie’s emotional connection to the human race is far too deep; from hate to jealousy, to something akin to love after meeting you. he appreciates they way you helped him overcome his past views and actions, but regret will always remain deeply rooted in his soul. so he tries not to think about these things. it’s not right to think of you in such ways simply because you are human. after everything you taught him, he thinks he’s sick to even think about a human kink. but then again, it’s in his nature as a demon to want to overpower those who are lesser than him. he’s very conflicted and tries to hide it, but he will sometimes lose control and show you this dark secret of his.

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

while kinks are inevitable in a relationship, he doesn’t see them so significantly. sex is special, for sure. but what matters to him is the chemistry between you, the flow of emotions and the genuine feeling you have for each other. but still, he loves that you challenge him. a mere human thinking they can take on the grand admiral of hell’s navy? he won’t back down so easily. every now and then, he likes to remind both you and himself of his powers as a demon, and he loves even more the blush on your face when you test his strength. whether it’s out of fear or arousal, it drives him crazy.

[tinydefector]

reading that perfume scenario i js imagine a bot spraying their human lover with a lil bit perfume before going down on them like adding salt to steak

It truly is a favourite of mine because I love the idea of perfumes and working like a pheromone enhancer, but like the number of scenarios this can lead into outside of the fic I wrote for Ratchet.

Let me know you you guys want more little pieces like these ɓecuase I like doing these kinda things when I'm not up for writing a fic so enjoy. ^^

Megatron masterlist

Optimus Masterlist

Prowl masterlist

Thundercracker masterlist

Such scenarios as

- date night with optimus where you dress up nicely with a lovely perfume/cologne and from the moment you get into his cab to go out he's struggling, and trying to be polite and a decent date but he turns into an actually feind when he gets to kiss you and every part of his stoic facade is out the window as he kisses across your skin taking in every inch and savoruing it like its the last time he's ever going to taste something this divine. It's fair to say your very sore afterwards, to Optimus you taste like Energon Z with bismuth and copper.

- sensual nights laying in bed with Megatron as he runs his servos over your waist holding you close as he admires and denies himself the luxury of so much. So to speed things up you decide to put some perfume on and it humbles Megatron very quickly. How much restraint he has despite how the perfume enhances everything. He's a slow and very dedicated lover despite what many would think. It turns into a very long night of soft kisses and soft vore. Him enjoying the taste of your skin on his glossa and when the taste fades he ask for you to put more perfume on. To Megatron it taste like High grade with Magnesium, Lithium.

- the late night work hours where Prowl is focused on work, hours after he should have been back due to someone else mistake, he goes to snap at whoever had intupted his work when the scent hits his nasal Ridge and his helm shoots up and locks on to you. Watching like you're a meal prepared for him. That's how you end up on his desk, legs over his shoulder plating as he indulges. Prowl isn't one to indulhe like this. He isn't easily swayed by lust. but this late at night, he enjoys taking it slow and indulging in your company. To Prowl, you taste like his favourite energon blend from before the war. Just casual energon, Mercury, and crystal.

- the first time. Thundercracker's first-time smelling perfume on you was when you were testing out different ones you had been given. The sweet scent catches him off guard, and that's how he finds himself watching. I'm watching as you try new clothing and test spray perfume on your wrist. But when you make your way over to him, asking him to tell you what he thinks, it leads to him pressing your wrist to his lips, It turns into a night of taste testing. It has Thundercracker riled up, and you aroused, but it turns into a game of how long it takes either of you to finally crack. For Thundercracker, it takes like pure energon with Uranium.

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

@desertrosesmetaldune

@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

@shinseiokami

@tea-loving-frog

[fiber-optic-alligator]

(Not a request dw) (I had to get this idea out of my head real quick.)

The idea of Drift swallowing his Little One to protect them from another mech trying to take them for themselves. The pair of them had been sitting, and idly chatting (Even if it was mostly a one-sided conversation.) when another mech had come along. Clearly interested in getting their servos on a tasty little human. It'd start with Drift growling lowly as a part of his warning to the potential human-thief that it'd be a bad idea to try his patience. Obviously he'd want to talk things out first, but a small possessive part of Drift loathes the idea of being separated from His Little One. So the "chat" is intermingled with his growling.

The next action Drift would take if the intruding mech persists. Would be to scoop his Little One up to keep them out of reach of the other mech, the growling of his engine growing more intense to dissuade the mech from taking things any further.

But if all else fails, Drift is probably just gonna make a show out of swallowing His Little One. Before growling loudly one last time out of possessive irritability, and walking away from where he'd been seated. He loathes acting like that, as it reminds him of his Deadlock days, but he wasn't about to let his Little One be stolen away by someone who wasn't going to be Nearly as careful with them as he is. It just wasn't going to happen. Speaking of which, he has some apologizing to do to His Little One after he gets back to his Habsuite, and retrieves them from his tanks. Oh dear.

Ok, but, the feeling of being swiftly (But carefully) swallowed by Drift while he's growling up a storm would be Far more jarring than the experience of being swallowed typically would be. The world around you shaking rhythmically, loudly as peristalsis drags you further down into Drift's humid depths. But even when you know Drift would never hurt you, (On purpose) being swallowed, and so thoroughly rattled by his animalistic growls fills you with dread as you sink deeper within him. You land in his stomach as he lets out a more aggressive growl. His tanks clench close around you, just as possessively as your mech is behaving externally. But when you feel him get up, and walk away his tank releases it's hold on you allowing you to breathe again.

It's different when he growls with you in his tank, than when he purrs. The sounds of his gentle purring lulls you to sleep most nights, and results in only a slight shaking sensation. But his growls rattle you to your core, and leave you feeling threatened by the typically placid mech. Drift, who loves you too much to let you leave fall into the servos of someone who can't give you the care you need. Like he can. Like he will.

HRRRRRRRGH THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!

I’m sorry I HAD to write something about this. I know this wasn’t a request but this scenario is honestly so, so good. The way you worded it was beautiful. GOD, what I wrote isn’t half as good as what you sent but I was inspired. What I wrote isn't a carbon copy of your idea, but I still really enjoyed putting this idea into story form. GOD I STILL CAN'T GET OVER IT. Drift certainly does love you too much to let you be taken by someone else. He loves you too much to let you leave. After all, you are is little one. There's no changing that.

PLEASE let me know if you like the little story I wrote. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE INCREDIBLE ASK! I'm gonna look back at reread at least twenty times now lmao.

WARNING! WHAT IS WRITTEN BELOW THIS CONTAIN SOFT VORE. If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read!

.

.

.

“Hey, are you going to have that?”

  Drift looks up. The mech staring back at him is stocky and short. He has some grime splattered across his chassis and arms: oil. An engineer. A name does not stick to the face, and Drift takes a quick moment to try and recall it. Nothing.

  “Excuse me?” is all his confusion will allow him to say.

  “The human.” The stranger gestures to the table. “Are you gonna have it?”

  Drift looks down. On the table is a datapad displaying a sparkling’s story with funny little illustrations. Observing the pictures is you. The library is a quiet place. Drift comes here frequently to either read or simply clear his mind. He enjoys bringing you along as well; ever since you found out there was a library aboard the Lost Light, you have shown a strong fascination with Cybertronian writings. He doesn’t know if you get the gist of what they mean, but you give him such excited, pleading looks when he lets you observe them, that he can’t help but let you indulge. So, he provides you with simple readings. The ones with pictures are what you seem to enjoy best. You’d sit there for hours if you could, looking at the datapad and trying to quietly sound out the Cybertronian words to yourself. It’s not something you do well, but Drift finds it so adorable. You attempting to mimic his language just proves how clever you are.

  He loves to watch you do this, and he frequently jumps in to help you say certain words right. Most of the time the two of you are quietly repeating them to each other in a sort of simple lesson. It’s one of the many things the two of you do as a bonding experience. Primus, Drift loves it.

  So who the hell is this random mech to barge in and interrupt by asking if he can have you?

  “Um.” Drift chuckles in disbelief. “They’re not for sale. Sorry.”

  “Oh, no, nonono.” The mech shakes his head and laughs too. “I don’t want to buy them from you. I want to borrow them. I’ve never had the chance to get my servos on one of these little beauties. It’s rare to find a human that doesn’t already have an owner.” He leers at you, swiping his glossa over his lips. “If you let me have a taste, I’ll pay you. However much you want, name your price.”

  You, who has been silently observing this entire interaction, shrink back nervously. Drift sees the way you look at the other mech in fear, and his mood immediately darkens. Something sour builds in his spark. He slowly reaches forward and curls his digits around you. It’s an obvious display of possessive protection.

  “They’re. Mine,” he growls. The sound is deep and dangerous, continuing on after he spoke his words. Though he doesn’t notice, you are clearly shaken by it. Chirping softly, you press your hand against his palm, trying to get his attention. But he only tightens his hold, never breaking eye contact with the threat before him.

  “Dude, I know they’re yours.” The other mech is clearly unaffected by Drift’s hostility. “You can spare a bit of time with them, can’t you? C’mon, just let me have a taste.”

  He makes a grab for you. Drift’s instincts kick in, and he snatches you away. You yelp when he presses you against his chassis. He makes a mental note to apologize to you later, but right now he needs to play the part of big bad mech. There can be no sign of weakness here. This stranger is clearly bent on stealing you from him. He won’t let that happen. You are his little one. His.

  Drift rises to his pedes, his growls elevating. The other mech doesn’t show any ounce of care and growls back, armor rising to clack. “I’ve waited for so long to try one of these things,” he says. “This might be my only opportunity! Just let me have them!”

  “They aren’t a thing,” Drift hisses. “They are a human. And if you can’t show them the proper respect and care they deserve, then you have no right to own this one, let alone any.”

  “You think just because you're third in command to the captain that you can lecture me on how to treat a human?” The mech gets into Drift’s face and flashes his fangs. “You don’t even know me! I’m not going to hurt it! I just want a taste! Is that so hard for you to allow?”

  “When it comes to a bot like you? Yes. It is.” Drift doesn’t waver. He’s taller than this mech. Stronger, too. Faster, and better at fighting. If it comes down to such actions unfolding, then so be it. He will do anything to protect his little one.

  Speaking of you…you cower in his servos, trying your best to appear invisible. He looks down at you, debating on how to handle this. The other mech obviously doesn’t intend on backing off any time soon, and if things do come down to a fist fight, he obviously can’t defend you like this. His best option for keeping you safe is swallowing you.

  The engineer puffs out his chassis and revs his engine. It’s a challenge.

  Drift accepts it. But not in the way he is thinking.

  He raises you high above his faceplate and lets you drop a little, until he has the back of your shirt pinched between his forefinger and thumb. You kick your legs and squeal, alarmed, and his spark wrenches at the sight. He wants to comfort you. He needs to comfort you. But he can’t, not while he’s making a show of this in order to prove he isn’t someone to be messed with. So despite how disgusted he is with taking advantage of your fear, despite how this makes him feel like a little piece of Deadlock is rising from the grave, he goes through with his decision and decides that if he wants to keep you protected, he needs to scare the other mech off…even if you are scared shitless too.

  He lets you go. Your high-pitched scream is abruptly cut off when you land in his intake and he quickly snaps his jaws shut. Slicking you up with solvent, he tilts his helm back and swallows you, swiftly, but gently. He makes sure the other mech can see you travel down his throat. You are nothing more than a little bulge that disappears into his chassis and is quickly consumed.

  The engineer stares. His mouth is open like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

  Drift licks his lips and continues growling, as loudly as he can. He watches the other mech’s helm lower, optics on the floor. Intimidated. Good.

  “Never come near me or my human again,” he says. “They’re mine. Do you hear me? Mine.”

  The challenger offers no protest. Drift pushes past him and leaves the library, not looking back.

  You have never seen this side of Drift before.

  When he swallows you, he is always careful with you. He takes things slow, allowing you to move along with his pace, giving you every opportunity to tell him no, you don’t want this right now.

  However, this case is entirely different. He didn’t even give you a chance to gather your bearings before he was tossing you into his mouth and gulping you down with a rushed sense of urgency. Oh, he was gentle. Of course he’s always going to be gentle with you. But after watching the way he interacted with that strange mech, who you know wanted to eat you just from the way he had been looking at you like a lion looks at a fresh piece of meat, you can understand why he’s being so quick. This is being done for your preservation.

  But god, that doesn’t mean this isn’t terrifying.

  Everything around you shakes as you are pushed deeper and deeper within him. His esophageal muscles are tight, the rolling sensation of being swallowed not as soothing as it should be. His growls ring in your ears and leave you feeling rattled. He sounds dangerous. He sounds like an animal.

  It scares you.

  When you make it to his stomach, you are practically shoved inside. There is no chance to catch your breath, no opportunity for you to nestle in and get comfortable. The walls move in to give you the tightest squeeze of your life. You are squished uncomfortably between living cables that pulse with the bright, possessive desire to never let you go. Every angle is taken up by him. All you can see is blue biolight. And all you can hear are his throaty rumbles.

  There is no end to it. Even when you feel his stomach gently sway with the rest of his body as he walks away, the organ only holds you closer, gurgling possessively. You feel like you are being told that you are his. Because you are.

  You should be consoled by this fact. But no such feeling comes to compete with the claustrophobic dread that fills you.

  Drift is fuming when he stomps back into his habsuite. He paces back and forth, then drags his chair back and sits in it with a heavy puff of exhaust. Tapping his digits against his desk, he imagines his fist grabbing that engineer by the back of the helm and smashing his faceplate into the nearest wall. How dare he? How dare he just waltz up to him and ask to taste his little one? The nerve of some bots!

  I’ll have to put in a word to Ultra Magnus, he thinks. That engineer should be dismissed. He shouldn’t even be on the Lost Light. Disgusting behavior like that should be punished. It has to-

  He hears a soft whimper. His digits halt their fidgeting. He looks down at his middle and has his internal sensors scan your little form. Your heart rate is through the roof. Your breathing is erratic and unsteady. And…oh no. Oh, no, no, no. You're trembling.

  He loosens his grip on you and gives you room to move. But when that doesn’t do the trick, he decides that keeping you in there while you are in this state will only distress you further. So he clenches his tank muscles again, and pushes you upward, back through his esophagus and into his mouth. He slips you into his servos with practiced ease, turning you gently so you are on your back. You are covered in his solvent, chest heaving as you look up at him. Then, to his horror, you turn away from him and curl up into a little ball. You are still shaking. His spark sinks.

  He gently deposits you onto his desk and fetches one of his fluffiest blankets to wrap you in. You don’t resist him. You just sit there, giving him those big sad eyes you have whenever you are scared.

  “Little one?” Drift whispers.

  You chirp softly and hide your face. He whines. “No, no, don’t do that.” He hooks his index digit under your chin and tilts your head up. “Look at me, little one. Please.”

  You're still so afraid. He realizes that his big act in front of the engineer really affected you. Guilt rises. There has to be a way to get through to you and show you that he’s still the gentle Drift you know.

  He leans forward, cupping you close. Lowering his helm to be at your level, Drift coos out the call you always make when you want his attention. “Hello,” he murmurs in the foreign tongue. “Hello. Hello, hello.”

  You perk up a little when he mimics your calls. Tentatively, you say it back. “…Hello.”

  Drift beams. “Hello, little one.” He ruffles your hair, chuckling when you lean into his touch. “I’m so sorry I scared you. I…I had to show him that you are mine. I don’t want anyone trying to take you from me. They could hurt you. And if that happens…I’ll never be able to live with myself.”

  You seem to understand that he’s asking for your forgiveness. Sighing, you shuffle forward and reach out, pressing your hands against his nose. You chirp; much of it is indecipherable. But then…you begin to speak. Not in your language. In Cybertronain.

  “Love you,” you say to him. “Love you…love you, Drift.”

  He doesn’t know when you learned it. But he knows it’s the first time you’ve said it. He is your first I love you.

  He can’t contain himself. Drift purrs louder, cuddling you. “I love you too, little one. I love you so, so much.”

  You like cuddles. You deserve them. Today was a rough day for both of you. But knowing you still trust him is relieving.  And he promises you…he swears to you, he will never allow anyone to try and threaten you again.

[ryanmarshallryan]

I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!

I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.

DIET BACKFIRED

I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.

I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.

Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”

“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”

“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.

“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.

After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.

“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.

“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.

“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.

“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.

Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”

After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.

Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.

“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”

I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.

Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”

In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.

“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.

“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”

“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”

Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.

As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.

“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.

“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”

“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.

“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.

I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”

Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.

“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.

“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”

“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”

“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.

I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.

Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.

I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.

I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.

“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.

“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’

My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”

“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”

“But why would you -”

“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.

“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”

“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.

I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”

“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.

“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.

“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.

“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”

“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”

I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?

[blankwashed]

PART 1 PART 2 IS HERE!

Satoru Gojo (role play, praise kink, katoptronophilia)

Satoru looooves to role-play, even when the both of you aren’t having sex. Why? Because having the pressure of the world on your shoulders is not something anyone likes. This was an idea suggested by you when you first saw him stressed. At first, it didn’t have anything to do with sex but you thought, hey, why not. Surprisingly, Satoru accepted your idea.

Ah yes, of course Satoru has a praise kink. The man himself gets pleasure whenever he hears praises from you. “Such a big cock, daddy” “Your fingers give me so much pleasure, Toru”. He has this kink ever since he was born but only sexually when he met you.

Katoptronophilia. Similar to the second kink, he loves himself. Whenever you’re away or on a night out with your friends, Satoru would sit in front of the mirror, looking at himself while jacking off. Hands around his own neck, choking himself as if it were you. But when he cums, he strangely will moan his own name.

Nanami Kento (melolagnia, praise kink, breeding kink)

Kento definitely is triggered sexually by music. Listening to jazz and R&B are his favourite whenever he's with you. Frank Sinatra and Billie Holiday are his go-to choices while fingering you with his thick and calloused fingers.

It's clear as day that Kento has a praise kink. It makes all the difference when you're his boss. "Such a good report, Kento." "You deserve a promotion, Kento.". Totally gives him a boner when you say it.

Daddy Kento would surely have a breeding kink, in my opinion. The way he leads his workmates already shows his natural dominance and protectiveness. He would risk his life for them without a second thought, displaying a level of commitment that is undeniably attractive. You can picture him, strong and commanding, taking control in the bedroom with the same intensity. The very thought of him, his firm hands on your hips, his deep voice promising to breed you, ignites a fire within you. The way he moves, the way he looks at you, everything about him screams power and control, making you crave his touch, his attention, his love. Suguru Geto (breeding kink, group sex, dirty talk)

Suguru's breeding kink stems from his desire for control. The thought of his partner carrying his child excites him, a way where his dominance is shown.

Whenever Sugu has group sex, all he thinks about is control and exhibiting dominance. He would be in command and be satisfied by others. He wants to be in control of your pleasure. "Do as I say" or "You're mine to use" are some of the phrases he would say while he sees how wet you've become.

He would surely be into dirty talk. Sex doesn't have to always be in the bedroom for him. Raunchy texts and photos that he sends to you would assist you in getting off. Choso Kamo (blood play, protection kink, vore)

Choso would use his power to manipulate blood to enhance intimacy and control in various ways. His ability to control blood could be used to create intense, unique sensations during intimate moments.

We all know that Choso is very protective over his siblings. The act of safeguarding someone would heighten his arousal, making him feel powerful and needed. He would say "trust me, princess” or "i'll make you feel good" whenever your anxiety kicks you on the bed.

The idea of consuming or being consumed, of holding life and power within himself. Usually, Choso would be a softie, a blank canvas so this fetish taps into his intense desire for intimacy and control. He gets off with the concepts of protection and possession Toji Fushiguro (gagging, dd/lg, money kink)

It's clear as day that this man has a gag kink. If you don't think so, then I don't know which Toji Fushiguro we're talking about. BUT, he definitely shows his s/o tons of love and care. Everything is consensual but who wouldn't want Toji to wrap his big hands around their neck?

This is pretty cliche but the man loves power. It doesn't matter what kind of fantasy we're talking about but there's no doubt that he wants you to be his little. Or a switch. "ride daddy just like that, slut" or "how's this feel, princess?"

AH OF COURSE, money. Imagine this, you coming home from work with your pay in hand. The whiff of money would remind him of the times when he was broke and desperate for it. His eyes would darken with a mix of hunger and nostalgia, a reminder of the struggles he faced. The sight of you holding the cash would ignite something primal in him, a desire to reclaim those moments, but this time with power and control. The both of you would role-play as a thief and victim to spice things up.