#vore crack fic
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trashytummies · 4 months ago
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jason & dick crack vore excerpt
the plot is really stupid but jason ends up time traveling and ends up in dick NTT era's belly (back when dick was mad angsty and kind of an ass about being robin/leader/away from bruce's shadow/expectations)
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Jason lay back against the now all-too-familiar walls of Dick’s stomach, his arms folded behind his head, staring into the pitch darkness. The soft gurgling sounds were like background noise at this point; white noise for the eternally frustrated.
You know what would really improve the situation? Jason thought, half to himself and half to Dick. A gut air freshener.
The silence that followed was heavy, as if even Dick’s internal organs were processing the sheer absurdity of what Jason had just said.
Seriously, Jason continued, warming to his own idea. I mean, think about it. I could pitch it on Shark Tank. You know, walk in—well, I guess I’d roll in on a cart or something, still one-inch tall—and be like, “Hey, Sharks, are you tired of your stomach being a claustrophobic hellscape filled with digestive smells? Well, I’ve got just the thing for you. Introducing ‘Gut Fresh’—the first-ever air freshener for your insides.”
Jason grinned to himself in the dark, imagining the horrified looks on the faces of the Shark Tank judges as he explained his revolutionary product idea.
We’re talking lemon zest, lavender, maybe a little eucalyptus for that soothing touch. It could be huge. Everyone’s always talking about gut health. Why not gut smell?
Jason, Dick’s voice cut into his mental monologue, flat and thoroughly exhausted. Please stop.
Jason chuckled. What? You don’t think Mr. Wonderful would go for it?
No, Dick groaned. I think this is the stupidest conversation we’ve ever had. And that’s saying something.
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sailorsenshishitposter · 9 months ago
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Sukuna x Megumi
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⚠️ Spoilers for chapter 212
"Shit! Not again!" For whatever reason, Yuji had lost control after eating another one of Sukuna's fingers. Megumi was alone and knew he had no choice. He then uttered "with this treasure I summon!" There was now a burst of light and Mahoraga had been summoned. It was too late though. Sukuna lifted his face down cards to reveal all five pieces of Exodia.
However Sukuna had no intention of walking into a store and buying a card pack like a common peasant so he decided to use Yuji's computer to illegally print off the cards. Due to being a thousand years old however, his understanding of modern technology was highly flawed, something he refused to admit. He ended up printing five copies of Exodias right leg. "I'll be damned before I let that brat refer to me as a boomer!"
Back in the present and Sukuna had just sent the abomination to attack Mahoragas life points. It wasn't very effective. Mahoraga used adapt and now shifted it's form into a jumbled mess of five legs. "The fuck?" cried Megumi. Sukuna now realizing he had a chance, sprinted and then tackled the boy while he was distracted.
Sukuna then whispered into his ear. "I want your body..." Megumi blushed. "It's not like I like you or anything, baka!" The older man chuckled. "I'm afraid you don't understand." He then pried open Megumi's mouth with his long claws. "This is my hole. It was made for me..." He then forced the sorcerer to vore him in entirety. Sukuna then started to inspect his new vessel.
"Ah, nothing beats the feeling of being at home. I can't believe I haven't used my vore technique since the Heian era. I should go find Uraume so we can open up that restaurant we always dreamed of. Wait, why is the sky turning purple?" He turned around to see none other than a furious Gojo. Sukuna started running like his life depended on it as he began screaming "MAHORAGAH, SAVE ME!!!!!!!"
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tinydefector · 7 months ago
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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 Red energon 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
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cyberhalfling · 9 months ago
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I had the absolute pleasure of joining the @destiel-shit-post-mini-bang and working with @castielafflicted on his fic!
All I knew at the start of this project was there would be Safe For Work Vore, and immediately I wanted in! Zeph was great to work with, and he created the cutest most adorable squeaky cas that I loved to draw! Enjoy!
Fic Title: Handful, Mouthful, Earful
Author: SystemMalfunction
Artist: me!
Summary: Cas is shrunk down very small and is very insistent about climbing into Dean's mouth.
Tags: Vore, kind of, Cas just wants inside Dean's mouth, this isn't a sex thin, Dean has no idea what's going on, Crack Treated Seriously
Link to fic!
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thegeminisage · 5 days ago
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Rating: Mature Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con Category: Gen Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte & Spite, Illario Dellamorte & Lucanis Dellamorte, pre Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, Spite (Dragon Age), Zara Renata, Calivan (Dragon Age), Illario Dellamorte, Caterina Dellamorte, Rook (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: The Ossuary (Dragon Age), Action Scenes, Blood and Gore, Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Kidnapping, Captivity, Imprisonment, Demisexual Lucanis Dellamorte, Starvation, Horror, Force-Feeding, Possession, Body Horror, Torture, Nightmares, Psychological Torture, Mind Games, Suicide, and a TEENSY bit of vore. don't judge me.
ossuary (ˈäSHəˌwerē) noun 1. a container or room in which the bones of dead people are placed. 2. the final resting place of skeletal remains. Thought dead by his family, Lucanis Dellamorte, the infamous Demon of Vyrantium, spends over three hundred days languishing in an impenetrable Tevene prison at the bottom of the sea. But he doesn't do it alone—and like it or not, his new demonic cellmate may be his only hope of escape. Sometimes the only way to fight your demons is to make a deal instead. Fic is complete; updates are posted on Thursdays.
Lucanis slips his gambler's knife out of his boot. A well-aimed throw to the vocal cords keeps the first mage from casting. One for silence. While the mage's friend is still in shock, Lucanis has time to make a run for her and snap her neck. Two for surprise. Lucanis ducks in time to avoid a strike from behind, and that leaves him close enough to yank his knife out of the first corpse's throat and plunge it backward between his attacker's ribs. Three for good measure. He uses this newest body as a shield, and the fire spell meant for him lights up the dead mage instead. This he throws into the next pair of Venatori, and the one on the left cracks his head open against the edge of a shipping crate. Four's exercise. 
Zara snaps her perfectly-manicured fingers, and immediately, a Venatori that was standing out of sight enters the cell, a familiar-looking tin plate in his hands. Only this one isn't empty.
What's on it cannot be called food. A lump of flesh, if anything, though flesh from what Lucanis cannot say. It's small and round, just large enough that it would be a little difficult to choke down in one swallow. Some kind of sticky-looking red veiny texture keeps it fixed to the plate. The surface of it is wet. Lucanis can't be sure from here, but it might be pulsing.
"My staff tells me you're hungry," says Zara. "Would you like something to eat?"
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kyliafanfiction · 6 months ago
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Amy's crush on Vicky and her self-loathing over it is such an interesting thing.
Because like, if Vicky had also natively developed a crush on Amy and at some point realized Amy had feelings for her, and then Vicky actually like, went and talked to Amy about it, etc -
Amy's first instinct (under anything resembling her pre-Bonesaw mental state) would of course be a panic attack, right? She'd assume she changed Vicky's brain at some point without anyone realizing it. She might even try to 'fix' Vicky before anyone finds out (especially Vicky or Carol). Assuming she doesn't do that, I'm still not sure she actually like... jumps into this prospect headfirst.
Like, eventually, sure, if Vicky convinces Amy this was genuine and not Amy accidentally mastering her, Amy's probably still convinced she somehow tainted or ruined Vicky, and she's probably still not going to want to act on anything, though I think Vicky could probably soothe her fears and convince her (not in like, an undue pressure way, I'm not saying Vicky would do that) eventually.
But though I've read fics where Amy acts like Vicky being straight or even just 'Vicky sees me as just a sister and wouldn't return my feelings because of that' are the primary obstacles to her and Vicky flying off into the sunset together (though they're obstacles she still doesn't want to use her powers to bypass), I think the biggest obstacle is her own self-loathing, shame and disgust for her feelings.
Which of course, is honestly a bit silly. Like, crushing on your sister isn't necessarily normal, but incest is a very popular porn category. And Vicky is her adopted sister, so that's slight less abnormal - slightly. And like, as far as ill-advised desires and crushes go, crushing on your maybe a few months older sister is like, one of the least bad option. Of course, the fact that Amy has the ability to force the issue thanks to her powers is what makes this abnormal and then that ties in all her power-related issues.
I mean, there's a lot worse things Amy could desire. It's not uncommon in smutty fics for Amy to have like, really off-the-hook body horror kinks and stuff too, which - I can see, but we don't know if she's into that in canon... unless you think the Wretch was a manifestation of Amy having a Shoggoth kink or whatever (I don't, and Ward's implications she does can be safely put away, tyvm). Amy could have a vore kink, or be one of those people who have a lot of crossed wires between sex and violence (to dangerous extents) or whatever.
Of course, telling Amy that 'you could have more unnatural desires, your crush on your sister is pretty milquetoast as far as 'deviant' desires go, just check the dark corners of the internet (or, you know, any random ao3 fic)' doesn't really work. It would be nice if it would, because Amy badly needs some perspective (as I noted during my live reaction to 11h, while Marquis was unquestionably a criminal and a killer, given all the other villains active at the time in the Bay that could have been her mysterious villain parent, Marquis is probably one of the better options. I read one fic where Carol accidentally gave Amy the impression one of the Butchers was her father, for instance), but she's got such a dense and interlocking network of issues that she wouldn't be able to accept that perspective on it's own.
If something else managed to crack the outer layers of her issues, then maybe some perspective could help her at that point, but Amy is so convinced that she is uniquely monstrous and terrible (Thank you, Carol) that pointing out that 'on balance, you're almost normal, relatively speaking' wouldn't get through the armor of her self-loathing and shame.
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cassidy273 · 2 months ago
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What different Ao3 tags mean
This post is for people who are starting to read fics on Ao3, or just people who don't get some of the tags.
Fluff - Basically just nice and fuzzy feels
Lemon/Lime - I don't think I see these tags too much on newer fics, but I used to see them all the time when I still used Wattpad. Lemon means that the fic contains graphic sexual stuff, and lime means that the fic contains sexual situations without being graphic.
Watersports - This is one of the freaky tags. Do NOT make the same mistake I did when I first went on Ao3, and assume that this is for fics about actual water related sports. This tag is for fics with piss kinks.
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat - This tag is for fics with themes that may be considered problematic/not morally okay, and it's basically a warning to readers to mind the tags. I didn't know what this meant a while ago, and I read a very graphic fic about a guy murdering his boyfriend during sex...consensually.
Angst - Just angsty/sad feels.
Whump - If I'm being honest, I didn't know what the fuck this could even mean when I first went on Ao3. It's basically just hurt/comfort, but emphasis on the hurt. I'm honestly too scared to read fics with this tag just in case I cry lol.
Crack - A fic that was written as a joke/parody that is not meant to be taken seriously. Like, you wouldn't leave genuine criticism on a smutty Shrek/Christine Daaé fanfic with the tag Crack/Crackfic.
Hurt/Comfort - The title kinda speaks for itself, but it's basically a fic where a character gets sick or feels bad emotionally, and another character comforts them.
Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics - This means the fic contains stuff from the omegaverse such as alphas, omegas, and betas. I remember forgetting to read the tags a while back, and when I started reading the actual fanfic, I was so confused as to why Christine was talking about Erik's pheromones and stuff like that. I'm not gonna explain too much about the omegaverse, but y'all can google that stuff yourselves if you want. There might be some sexual stuff, though.
Vore - This is basically just a fetish where someone wants to eat someone/be eaten by them.
I might make a follow-up to this but idk.
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rainbowsillz · 1 year ago
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˗ˏˋ I'm Etihw from Thailand, nice to meet you! This account will brainrot yandere fics and I make reader inserts. ´ˎ˗
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My other writing side acc is @mewpangxin . . ! Anyway, my pronouns are she/her if you're wondering about it.
About me. | Tag system. | mutuals + anons (tba).
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WALKING THROUGH THE FIELDS OF ROSES, you stumbled upon an unfamiliar venue, you ought to be careful, gorgeous.
The Red Queen doesn't take kindly for a guest showing up uninvited after all, I hope you brought a letter to his party, yes?
⤷ Shh, listen closely.. the monarch.. he is observing you.
♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♛ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝
-> Masterlist for Twisted Wonderland. <-
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✦ — The Doll Maker || TWST HC. — ✦
Yan! Overblot Riddle X GN! Reader.
Yan! Overblot Malleus X GN! Reader.
“That guy is my pookie, so stop touching him—!” - Pairings: Multiple Characters X GN! Reader.
Rollo Flamme. | Character interaction | Genre: Fluff?
Floyd Leech. | Character interaction | Genre: Fluff?
TWST SQUAD BEING A FATHER + WITH A BABY.
✦ — THEM WITH AN AFFECTIONATE S/O.✦ —
“ Dating? As if they would let this continue on.. ”
Their voicelines about you.
Mysterious disappearance 🦢✨
Azul Ashengrotto. | Interaction | Genre: Dark?
How they react with someone mocking you.
How they react with a marriage proposal.
The dorm leaders x GN! Reader that plays with their hair • (Multiple Characters).
♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♛ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝
X. Masterlist for Kimetsu No Yaiba. X
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𖤐 A MODERN READER THAT CAN'T TALK IN JAPANESE 𖤐 (FT. Yandere Douma X GN! Reader).
♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♛ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝
BYI AND FOLLOW ME; ˖✶
I don't write explicit smut or nsfw. Not that that I don't wish to, it's due to my lack of inability.
Asking to be moots are alright through DMs. Or in my inboxes, don't worry about it.
I do not support any fandom drama, this will be sfw and where you can be cozy and warm :)
I love ocs and yume inserts, so you can share.
♝•°•═════ஓ๑【 ♛ 】๑ஓ═════•°•♝
★⋆RULES ★⋆
I will not accept anything about gore, incest, pedophilia, vore, age play, and etc.
I don't romanticize yandere irl, it's for fictions so if anyone do it, please contact a therapist because that's not normal and it's not alright.
Dead Dove: Do Not Eat is a big nope because I'm admittedly not that dark T-T of a person.
I don't do requests currently 🩷 Okay I lied, I can haha but only for characters that I'm familiar with- most dorm leaders are fine for me.
Please don't send anon hate or mean things.
Genres which I do? Yandere, fluff, mature, a bit spice? Oh, maybe crack.. and that's about it.
Readers are gender neutral, however if it's for male and female readers, I'll tag on for such.
I will reblog dark contents, so be careful.
 Character x Character and Character x OC? I have no problems to chat about them except if it's incest (Naur —that's a no.) but I doubt my characterization on them will be decent.
There are characters that I don't write for, NRC staff + teachers, Ortho and RSA students.
Sebek, Jack and Silver probably not yet too.
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© I don't agree if anyone is going to repost, translate or modify my fics without permission.
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daisy-01-blog · 11 days ago
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Open Nsfw fic comission!
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Comission Open!!
Hey guys! I won’t sugarcoat this. I need money, and I figure this would help me. 
You can commission me for NSFW fanfic! Animes and other fandoms. I knew lots of animes but the ones that I follow right now are: HxH, JJK, Haikyuu, Disastrous life of Saiki K, Mob psycho 100, etc. 
Here’s what I’ve written here:
Here is the price list and estimated days on making it: 
500 words: 5$ (2-3 days) 
600 words: 6$ (3-4 days) 
700 words: 7$ (4-5 days) 
800 words: 8$ (4-5 days) 
900 words: 9$ (6-7 days) 
1K words: 10$ (6-7 days) 
What I won’t do: Scat, gore and blood, vore, poop, incest, minor. 
You can pay me through Paypal. You can pay me AFTER I told you the fanfic is done. And I will give you your fanfic AFTER you paid me-I will ask for your e-mail to make your invoice. You can tell me if you want the commission to be sent in a PDF or google docs link. It’s up to you. 
DM me this format: 
Hi! I would like to commission you. Here’s my request:
Fandom: 
Characters: (whether it’s character x reader, character x character, or character x oc. If you want an x oc send me info about your oc) 
Plot: (the more detailed the better) 
I have the rights to refuse any request if I feel like it. And I also ask you to not post it anywhere since it’s copyrighted by me. Thanks for reading!
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eternal-kosmo-ghoul · 1 year ago
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❧ vore novels — sleep token
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key: fluff ✿ , angst ❦ , crack �� , platonic ✩ , slight nsfw ❤︎ , au ✪ , smut ❣︎ , yandere ➷ , dark fiction ✝︎
❝take a turn to a more quiet and discreet section in our library… the vore section. these mysterious beings sometimes linger within our church walls. they posses an energy that we enjoy… it helps bring us sleep.❞ —kosmo
• WARNING: any of the keys that are in red that they will get an extra warning due to the intensity of the themes. please exert caution when reading fics with these keys
DISCLAIMER: all papas are written as FICTIONAL characters. how they’re written in my fics is not intended to be a reflection of the performer/actual person. everything written is purely fiction and is meant for entertainment purposes.
┅✦┅
➵ vessel
➵ “no purity” —afab reader, vessel, [nsfw] ❣︎
➵ ii
sorry! we are currently out of stock!
➵ iii
sorry! we are currently out of stock!
➵ iv
sorry! we are currently out of stock!
➵ vesselettes
sorry! we are currently out of stock!
➵ all members
➵ “even i’m not into that shit”, gn reader, all, ✦
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darlingsugu · 11 months ago
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"THE EYES OF OTHERS OUR PRISONS; THEIR THOUGHTS OUR CAGES."
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name; sade age; 24 location; somewhere in the ether
|| GENERAL FAQS ||
My name is Sade, and I've been writing for over ten years for various different fandoms here on Tumblr. My most recent blog venture (this one) is dedicated to Jujutsu Kaisen, and in the future, other anime. Right now, I'm just writing for JJK. I write for both SFW and NSFW content, so if you're a minor reading this - please, do not interact. I don't care what you do in your private time, but I don't want to know about it, thankies.
CONTENT I WON'T WRITE
Any content relating to deliberate self-harm/suicide.
Vore
Scat/Piss Kink (go to AO3 for that)
Crack fic
Anything that you would have to tag as 'Dead Dove Do Not Eat'.
ADDITIONAL FAQS
I am slow to write and slow to update any fics. I will keep requests open, but I do not have a definite timeline as to when they might be completed (if I get any lmao). Secondly, I do have a full-time job that limits my time for writing. Much as I want to spend my entire day writing, I cannot anymore *sigh*.
Lastly, I swear I'm actually super chill. I have a small rule list and as long as you follow that and don't spam the inbox, I'm going to be chill. Don't be afraid to interact, whether it's to be thirsty, to drop a prompt, or just to talk! I love interacting with people on here and I really want to get back into fandom spaces like I was when I was younger.
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tefifonconnoisseur · 6 months ago
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The Peanut Butter Toast Incident (Miles Morales Unaware Vore)
I never promised I was posting these stories in order, mostly because the next story in the chronological order has 4 parts and I’m conflicted on sharing in parts as written or all in one piece. This was the first story I got a request for, and to my knowledge the first Miles Morales vore fic. This does contain unaware vore of a teenager, so be aware that’s below the cut. Enjoy! Or don’t, just please don’t burn me at the stake. I’ve got work tomorrow lol.
(We will say this takes place bedore the second one but after the first. Also Y/N for flavor points (which means your name). I know he has a roommate, but oh well. A Marvel plot with this plot was suggested by nickyjel123, and I figured I’d use my own Marvel pred “crush” [idk the term for preferred pred in a non-sexual way if there is one])
A normal morning in a dorm is, as you’d expect, usually plain and consists of mundane tasks one does to prepare themselves for a long, monotonous day of school work. Things like getting dressed, brushing teeth, preparing one’s backpack, making coffee in the communal kitchen or some cereal if you’re a baller. This is done with a level of grog often from bad sleep. For Miles Morales, this was that morning. Upon unceremoniously popping open his eyes due to a loud alarm and slowly stretching and making his way out of the bottom bunk, he began to get dressed in uniform, a typical suit that made him even more tired. Slowly, he lifted his pants onto his waist, weaved his black, slightly cracked leather belt through, and buttoned way too many buttons. Checking himself in the mirror, he had bags under his eyes from a study-filled night previously and his hair was somewhat greasy, although today Miles couldn’t be bothered to rectify his uncleanliness with anything but layers of deodorant and a spritz of gel. This was his appearance as he went through the door and towards the communal kitchen.
For Y/N though, this would be a morning that would live in infamy for its lack of luck and sheer stupidity that could rival certain programs on children’s cartoon programming. Upon awakening, Y/N popped up and slammed their head against the ceiling, causing a red circular mark to appear on their forehead. This awoke the folks in the dorm above them, who of all people were the worst ones to deal with. The particular gentleman involved in the forthcoming drama has chosen to remain anonymous, but shall henceforth be referred to by a fake name: Buford.
Buford was a STEM student pursuing the highest level of education offered at Brooklyn Visions Academy and in several of the same classes as Miles. Buford, however, was a rougher personality from old money who was not fond of Miles, but more importantly hated Y/N due to their pursuing of art and their more effeminate personality. He would often call Y/N names in passing or would steal their things and destroy them. This time though, he was in the mood to make Y/N’s day so much worse. See, his brother had created a device that could reduce matter to a fraction of its size, effectively shrinking it. Due to the nature of atoms, this effect would be temporary and last for a time that hasn’t quite been measured, but was less than 12 hours based on testimony.
This device was Buford’s way of payback: to shrink them so that hopefully they’d end up getting into hjinx. See, he doubted Y/N could be actually killed; the increased density of the atoms made the recipient of the shrinking much more resilient to things like falls or being stepped on. It would just suck and scare Y/N some. So, Buford set his action into plan and shot an orb into the floor vent, as the bouncing would inevitably lead to it reaching Y/N’s bed. The orb made a loud electric banging sound with each bounce, bouncing faster until it eventually sunk down the vent and directly onto Y/N’s sore head, making a splatting sound as it was absorbed into their hair follicles.
At first, Y/N found this to be an annoyance, slightly peeved that Buford had, at least in their mind, shot them with some sort of pellet. As they made his way to the ladder, they thought it might be a couple inches taller, but chalked it up to their grogginess and near-concussion a few moments prior. However, as they descended the ladder, they found that each step was farther away from their foot, until they had to leap off the bottom of the ladder. At this precise moment, they took a deep look around and started realizing what exactly was happening to them: shrinking, and at a pretty good rate. They noticed the details of the carpet become finer and finer, and eventually decently sized until each little follicle was up to their waist. Thankfully, their oversized shirt and pajamas had been afflicted by this orb’s atom reduction as well due to complicated things that we aren’t going to bother explaining because any attempt to do so would be so far off from logic, it would be a disservice to us and you.
As you’d expect when someone who’s usually decent height becomes a few inches tall, fear gripped their heart like a snapping turtle: unceasing and hard. At this moment, Y/N had nothing: no aid, no way to call for help, no method of finding anyone, and not much vocal power to even try. Some other factors included the fact that it was cleaning day, so someone would be in to vacuum them up, as well as it was a school day, so if they didn’t get help soon, they’d have to wait until 4, or later if Miles didn’t come back, as was a trend.
A trend that didn’t offer Y/N too many favors. Miles was pretty good at art, but Y/N couldn’t get pointers on theirs for often several days at a time. Typical schoolwork was not our protagonist’s strongest still, which made things even worse when help vanished from the dorm. They often had to find someone else to help them, which tended to be people who didn’t exactly know what they were teaching either.
However, it was the morning, and they knew that Miles would be eating peanut butter toast in the kitchen for an amount of time as he would often talk with a friend or two. If Y/N could make it over in time, they could get help. As quick as they could (which was honestly not bad pace), they ran off to the dorm commons.
Miles got distracted in the communal kitchen for a minute catching up on last-minute studying for a Physics exam that was inevitably going to nab him a decent grade. Whether this grade was up to scrutiny was another question. This setback didn’t matter too much; Miles tended to eat pretty quickly without his table manners being watched like a hawk by his parents. They had always done everything they could to raise Miles to become a model member of society: making sure he was putting in maximum effort into his work, learning life lessons, and other things that would keep him from a life of poverty and violence. Unfortunately, one lesson was not taught, a lesson that doesn’t matter nearly as much unless you’ve got an enemy around: check your food BEFORE you eat it. It was a lesson often learned by those with allergies and the picky eaters of our society, oftentimes the hard way for the latter who naturally assumed their sandwich wouldn’t have mayonnaise and made their server suffer for their lack of foresight. For those without that though, who cares?
Y/N panted, but as they looked up, an exhausted gasp emitted from them. Miles was gargantuan, his upper details barely visible from their view, but the smaller details of their shoes and legs were heightened. Every speck of sweat, every scratch and imperfection in the leather, every leg hair was visible as if it was under a magnifying glass. Those details were heightened at a level humanity often never gets to see. This daze that Y/N experienced didn’t last, as it was rudely shattered by the bellowing pop of the toaster.
Time was running out. Y/N found a stool and wrapped themselves around the leg of it, inching their way up like a caterpillar. After lots of pain, they managed to reach up onto the seat and pull themselves off. They jumped onto the handle of a drawer, but losing grip in one of their hands. Sweat from their hand transferred to the handle and loosened its grip too. Looking down, the hard tile promised a swift death to anyone who dared fall from such a height onto it. Closing his eyes, his grip let loose and he fell…
As Miles spread his peanut butter onto his toast, he thought about his roommate, Y/N. He heard a bang from their hall, and he wondered if it was Y/N banging their head hard or if it was Buford ding-dong-ditching him for the 2nd time this week. He was fully aware of the beef between the two, and hoped that he wouldn’t have to go to Buford’s again and risk losing their acquaintanceship. Then again, Y/N was a closer friend, so did he need to ditch Buford.
His thoughts lead the peanut butter toast to slip from the plate, landing upright below the handle of the drawer, exactly where Y/N fell. The timing was perfect, and Y/N survived by falling into the peanut butter. The impact still winded them for a moment, but they realized they were in this peanut butter. They didn’t realize yet that the peanut butter was slightly sticky.
Within the 5 seconds it fell, Miles gripped the toast, unaware of his roommate near the edge. A sense of vertigo fell upon Y/N as they rose up to Miles’ level. Their near-death accident not only had been prevented, it might nab them help. As loud as their baby little lungs could provide, they shouted out for Miles for assistance. Despite their effort however, their sound waves were unable to penetrate Miles’ large greasy ears, in part due to a loud fan keeping the air circulating in the room, an in part due to his minute size. At the very least, Miles’ eyes worked perfectly and hopefully would notice them waving their arms. It was with a degree of effort and their frustration that their arms had sunk into the thick, creamy peanut butter. Despite all of his effort into waving, they couldn’t penetrate the creamy butter. Their only hope was for Miles to spot them. To their utter fear, when Miles opened his mouth wide, revealing all of the details in their tongue and gums that they realized in fear that they had not been noticed. They couldn’t help but notice that his teeth were white and shiny, but sharp and somewhat pointy. The taste buds and other spots on his thick pink tongue were quite obvious at this size. Saliva coated it in a thin veneer, revealing Miles’ ravenous hunger. His throat looked healthy, with a lack of tonsils noticeable and his uvula being relatively short, not grabbable, that’s for sure. As their heart beat faster and faster with fear, Miles bit down on the bit of toast Y/N resided in. Quickly, Y/N was covered in moist toast and water-soaked peanut butter and was swished back and forth, somehow missing every single tooth that bit down on the clumps of food in Miles’ mouth. Hot, somewhat minty, somewhat rank breath filled the cavern and made the air stagnant. This was hell. Every single second that ticked by was filled with yelling and fear, filth and heat. Y/N screamed for help, begging Miles not to swallow. A wet sound rang through as their begging fell on deaf ears and they slid towards the awaiting opening to the throat.
Miles switched the fan off, and while continued chewing heard a familiar voice, extremely quiet but close at the same time. In order to hear this voice better, he decided to gulp down the food in his mouth, sending Y/N down the slick, wet tube known as the esophagus. He thought he had heard the voice say not to swallow, but he couldn’t imagine why.
Fear coursed through Y/N’s vains as the rhythmic gulping sent them further and further down the tube, squeezing them and keeping air from their chest, nearly making him pass out, until eventually they fell into the stomach, face first into the liquid below. This place was essentially a smelly sauna cranked. The place was immensely hot and stagnant, with a liquid smelling of acid hiked up to Y/N’s chest. White bubbles covered the walls like vines. Despite what they had just learned about the sulfuric acid present in the stomach, Y/N weirdly felt no pain or any other effect. It was just unbearably hot. They continued to yell, but were drowned out by the churning noises as the stomach processed the toast clumps next to him. Just when they thought this couldn’t be any more miserable, clumps of peanut butter and toast fell onto them and penetrated their already-ruined clothes and just made them feel even worse, as if the humidity couldn’t ruin their mood more.
Miles, finished with the meal, wondered what the voice had wanted him not to swallow for. It has sounded like Y/N, but it couldn’t have been them. Maybe it was his imagination or someone’s phone in the hall behind the wall they were facing. Around this time, Buford entered the room, eyeing Miles as he grabbed a protein shake from the fridge.
“Hey [Buford], have you seen Y/N this morning? I’m worried about them?” Miles inquired.
“No”, Buford said, giggling.
Miles didn’t believe Buford, saying, “Don’t lie to me. I know you two have something against each other. If you did something, I’m going to have to report you, and I don’t think that would be worth your time with how many warnings you’ve received already.”
Buford realized he wasn’t in the mood to go to the office despite the fact that his parents would make this charge go away like the others.
“Let’s just say my new atom reducer works…”, he replied, dashing away like a coward.
Miles, tired as he was, attempted to piece together everything in his mind. He wondered if Y/N had managed to get to him…
About this time is when he realized what had happened: he had somehow, someway, eaten Y/N. His closest friend here, he had just swallowed them, consumed them like they were nothing to him but just a garnish. Miles felt light-headed and a sense of vertigo at this moment and ran to the trash can, vomiting everything in his stomach out.
Around the time Buford came around, Y/N had gone from yelling to crying. They were now alone in this hell of an organ, with nobody knowing about this. He was going to die here, and nobody would even know what had happened. His tears were interrupted when the entire stomach sloshed to the side, knocking Y/N into the juices. The entire stomach squished up, and Y/N was shoved forcefully back up the tube and expelled past the uvula and every single tooth into the waste bin.
Miles quickly spotted Y/N and cupped them into his palm, hyperventilating and panicking.
“I’m so sorry dude, are you okay?! I’m so so sorry! I can’t believe I let this happen to you!”
Y/N replied hoarsely,
“It’s fine, I’m good,” Y/N replied, tears still stuck on their face indicating that they weren’t good at all. Miles grabbed a moist paper towel and washed Y/N off. This was an odd sensation. Here he was, holding his friend in his hand, cradling and protecting him in his most vulnerable position, like a baby is by their mother. Y/N felt like a baby, but felt nurtured and protected, cared about. Staring into Miles’ large spherical eyes, he saw Miles in a different way. More than a friend, but a protector, a caregiver, maybe even more. They almost didn’t want this moment to end.
Miles checked his watch and realized he was running out of time. Apologizing, he left Y/N on the dresser of the dorm with a granola bar and a cotton ball for a chair, and dashed out. Y/N was usually annoyed when Miles left him in times like this, irritated or just generally apathetic. But now, he wished that Miles would be there, not for his help, but for his presence and care. There was also the issue of their classes. They would have to miss them and had no alibi or excuse. Thankfully, Y/N generally had a good reputation and didn’t miss many classes, so punishment wouldn’t be that severe.
By the time Miles returned that afternoon, Y/N had returned to normal size, clearly having showered and changed clothes. They kinda looked cute in their Rolling Stones shirt and lounge pants, with their messy hair nearly covering their eyes. The situation earlier had been a nightmare for them both, and would be henceforth referred to as the “Peanut Butter Toast Incident”, but was more of a bonding experience for the two. Miles moved from peanut butter toast to other kinds of toast and refused to eat it with peanut butter up until the writing of this story at least.
We’d love to tell you that Buford changed or got any consequences for this, but nothing could be proven for sure. Burford improved none, as you’d expect. A few weeks later, due to separate circumstances, they did move a floor up in the dorms, but that’s about it.
As for Miles and Y/N, this was the start of a close relationship, whether platonic or romantic we don’t care to know. It was either way the start of something new between the two that started with Buford and some peanut butter toast.
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sailorsenshishitposter · 8 months ago
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Jogo x Reader
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Jogo:
Your favorite Disney character is Mike Wazoski, you were voted most likely to need anger management or you're secretly Squidward Tentacles
First Date:
You decided to take a break from your stroll and sit down on a park bench. You were in your eighties and nearly blind at this point but you thought that you were doing pretty well for someone that wasn't locked up in an old folks home. You then heard the sound of laughter. Ah, children. Gone were the days of your youth  "It's nice to see kids playing outside instead of being on their gizmos."
Your hearing aids then picked up something. "Hey granny, you can see me?" It was the boy you heard laughing earlier. "My eye sight isn't what it used to be but yes, I can make out various shapes. "Hmm... You've got a strong soul grandma, I can see it!" You were flattered. "Why thank you young man. Would you like some candy?" The boy pouted. "I don't think I'm supposed to take candy from strangers. Tell you what, I'll give you my name so then we'll know each other. I'm Mahito. Nice to meet you!"
You tried to give Mahito some candy but he politely refused. "I think you need it more than I do. Don't old people have lower nutrients?" He seemed to be asking himself rather than you. "Ah! Here granny! Take some of my home made candy!" He then dropped some small drops into your palms. The texture was strange and it almost felt like skin but you didn't want to be rude so you accepted the gift and placed them in your purse."
Guess she can't hear their cries due to her hearing. Too bad..." Mahito uttered to himself. "What was that son?" He stopped blowing bubbles and then came up with a plan on the spot. "I was just wondering if you wanted to meet my family! I think they would really enjoy your company. What do you say?" You smiled and gave a nod. "All right Mahito, let's go find them." The curse walked ahead of you and began to maniacally grin. "Jogo, Jogo... You shouldn't have screwed me over while we were playing monopoly... I'm going to make you regret being born!"
Mahito brought you to the play ground and walked over to the slide area. Kenjaku raised an eyebrow but made no attempt to stop him. "This is my family grandma!" You walked over to the man Mahito was closest to. "You have such a wonderful son. You must be so proud. He even gave me candy!" Mahito was trying not to burst from laughter while Kenjaku began to respond. "Unfortunately he's not my son. I'm more of a care taker. He has no patents sadly." You gasped. "How unfortunate."
"Yes, well luckily I'm a father myself so I thought it would be best to add him to the family." How sweet. "That's so kind of you. If you don't mind me asking, where are your other children?" The man's eyes narrowed at Mahito, giving him a look that said 'be grateful I haven't eaten you yet'. "My son's are currently enrolled in high school. They used to be home schooled but we thought it would be better if they were closer with their youngest half brother. Yuji is a growing boy after all and I'm sure that his nine brothers will help his potential grow."
Wow. Nine kids? You started to wonder how all of them could attend school but decided it was better not to ask. They might be more children from a previous relationship or at the very worst, some of them might be have been held back a grade or two. "Mahito, why don't you introduce them to the rest of the family?" The curse gulped and quickly got the point.
As you walked away, the thousand year old brain was happy to finally be rid of you and your irritating questions about his previous failures (children). Mahito then introduced you to his next "family member". "This is Hanami. He doesn't speak our language unfortunately but I can translate for you." The curse then started to speak it's strange language. "He says that he'll be sure to bring lots of beautiful flowers to your grave once you pass."
You chuckled nervously. You didn't think you were in that bad of a state yet. Next Mahito introduced you to Dagon. He told you that he was their beloved dog and that was why he was so large. You could hardly see as it was so of course you bought it. "And finally..." Mahito then walked up to the sleeping curse and began dumping mentos into its volcano head. Suddenly there was magma and the curse was stringing profanities at the boy. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, MAHITO!?"
"Oh my. Did it suddenly got hotter? The forecast called for cooler weather today. I suppose I'll need to take my sweater off." Jogo's eye then opened wide. "Granny, this is my old man. Grandpa, say hello!" Jogo then tried to use his domain expansion but Mahito quickly cut off his head. "If you know what's good for you then behave or I'll use your head to play soccer again..." The curse relented. He didn't need to be told twice.
Jogo grit his teeth and glared at you. "H-hello..." Mahito then kept pestering him. "And what...?" Jogo sighed. "Ni-ice to m-meet y-you..." The younger curse began to laugh. "See? That wasn't so hard! Now I'm off to go get some groceries old man so you better behave! See you both later!"
Now it was just the two of you. "Huh? What's that awful racket?" You couldn't hear as well as Jogo did. "I believe it's coming from your purse... May I check it?..." You promptly handed over your bag. The curse opened it and found the source of his complaints. "That damn punk!" He took the "candy" out of your bag and quickly incinerated it. "You can have this back now."
"Your grandson is so sweet!" Jogo scoffed. "Don't trust anything that comes out of his mouth!"
"Well, he can't be that bad if he's yours."
"You don't even know me..." You laced your fingers with his palm. "Then let me get to know you..."
Over the few hours the two of you began to bond. You both loved nature, preferred to relax. You even both hated those kids that always skate on the sidewalk. "You're the first hum- I mean, person I can relate to. Maybe the human race isn't so bad..."
Suddenly two boys came running towards you. "MAHITO!""Here granny. Try some of the jerky I brought!" You went to reach for a piece but the other boy was quicker and scarfed them all down. "Mahito... How many fingers did you let him eat..." The curse whistled. "Dunno, I lost count after five. Well, I'm done. Later Jogo!" You stared at the unconious boy. "We need to call an ambulance!""... Listen carefully... You need to step back..."
You didn't understand what he was talking about and then something happened. "Hey, I think he's starting to wake!" Jogo tried his best not to shit himself (can curses shit?). "We're doomed..."
"I see you think pretty highly of yourselves..." Jogo immediately began to bow. "Hey! You better follow my lead or you're as good as dead!" You however refused to comply. You stood in front of the boy and waved your finger in his face. "Why I never! Back in my day, children respected the older generations! Youth these days are so arrogant! You need to be taught some manners my boy!"
Kenjaku stood on the sidelines with a bucket of popcorn in his hand. Internally Jogo was screaming "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!" "Wench, it is you who do not know your place. If anything, I'm far older than you. If I were in my true form, I would not even eat you, your body being nothing but a rotting sack of bones at this point. For you I have something else in store. I haven't used this since the Heian era. Domain expansion, elder abuse!"
Suddenly your right ankle had been slashed causing you to fall over. "My leg! Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!" The king of Curses chuckled. "What's this Karen? Didn't you say that you were going to put me in my place?" You desperately tried to use your cane and swat him with it. "That's it! C'mon, try harder!" You then moved to bash his kneecaps. Sukuna swiftly doged it. "Keep trying!"
It was ten minutes later and you were still writhing on the floor in agony. "Pathetic..." You reached your hand over to Jogo. "I'm glad to have met you. You remind me of the boy my granddaughter fell in love with. They would often play chess..." With your last ounce of strength, you opened up your locket and showed him a picture of the couple. It looked like a blind girl and a ninja turtle? It must be that ant curse that Geto was talking about.
The next thing Jogo knew and your head had been crushed underneath Sukuna's foot. "Know your place... Fool!" Jogo's heart had been crushed just like your brain. The curse began to fall over and go into cardiac arrest. "I thought you would stand proud and face me? I guess you aren't that strong after all." Sukuna was about to finish off the curse until his old brain buddy showed up. "Hey, Sukuna. Mind if I take this one?" After receiving the go ahead, Kenjaku began to vore down the weakened curse.
Sukuna smirked. "Kenjaku always does the grossest things!" Kenny then walked right on up towards Mahito. "You see that? That's what will happen to you if you pull another stunt like this again!" Mahito had won but at what cost? 
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spiralinghours · 8 months ago
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“Office Hours”
Fandom: Saw franchise
Pairing/Characters: Mark Hoffman x Peter Strahm
Rating: 18+ (R? M? I’m not the MPAA, you know the drill: if you’re a minor, scram, this ain’t for you)
Content Warnings/Tags: feeding kink/weight gain kink/fat fetishism, (mild?) pet play/pig play (Peter calls Mark animal names again), teasing/humiliation/degradation, blink-and-you-miss-it vore-ish reference (but it’s mild and kind of joking……..)
Summary: Peter and Mark are pretty much the only ones left in the precinct late at night… with boxes of donuts.
Author’s notes: Welcome back! I still don’t know how to write these fic intros, sorry!
This is continuation/installment 3 of “Filth”. Let me know where you’d like to see this turn and I might consider it? I’m literally only writing these one scenario at a time as they pop into my head.
But like seriously, comment on this or drop me a line. I wanna hear y’all’s ideas.
Days came and went, again, a blur. It was uncertain if it was a Tuesday or a Thursday, or maybe neither. But the day that Erickson announced that he wanted his agents to crack down and wrap it up was the day that felt ongoing.
On his end, Hoffman didn’t have as much to do. He was sure to get his part out of the way and remain on standby. The downside to that was having to stay as late as the last federal agent that hung around. It was like waiting for the final remaining patron at a bar to leave so the staff could lock up for the night. (Oops, he was that asshole before.)
Milling around the precinct, he shuffled down each hall, trying to look busy, on the way to something, as he checked to see who was where. A few uniformed officers nodded and gave brief acknowledgments before trickling out the back exit.
“Detective,” a voice darted, sounding like it wanted to laugh at something stupid. Of course: Strahm, with his rigid posture and tightly-lined features that made Mark’s insides go cold and fluttering at the same time. “Working late?”
“If everyone here is working late, I’m working late,” Mark shrugged as nonchalantly as he could.
“Right, right, ‘cause you’re the Big Boss.” Peter turned his head a little and grinned to himself, creeping and vicious.
“Mmhmm, yeah.” Mark tilted his head, staring down his nose at the nuisance. “So, I’ll be around if you need anything.”
Peter narrowed his eyes under dark lashes and serious brows, cutting a nasty line from Mark’s face, to his stomach, and then back. Really subtle. “I’ll be sure not to need anything.” He pushed past Mark, side-stepping his broad frame despite fully making contact.
It was a lot like the day they first met on the scene of Kerry’s murder. Peter was just as bitchy then, making faces, and shoving up against Mark as he left, despite having plenty of clearance in the space. Was that something too?
A few espressos and two 5-Hour energy drinks in (which equated to how many hours awake, he did not know), Strahm was wishing he had done a few lines coming in, mostly joking with himself about finding a bag in evidence somewhere. (But only mostly joking.)
He had to accept that he did have to question Hoffman on a few things, just to get the last details on some paperwork out of the way. But he had been putting it off, trying to tackle everything but. Mark’s content smugness mixed with absolute incompetence put a scowling, bitter taste in Peter’s mouth. He didn’t think a man like that deserved to be so high in the ranks, let alone get the satisfaction of “helping” someone with such seasoned experience in federal affairs. The fist-clenching, vein-popping cherry on top was that this was the same man who turned out to be the very serial-murdering accomplice Strahm was tasked to seek out. And he was so idiotic about it! Strahm was sure if the department hadn’t already been annihilated, one of them would have found out the truth. Surely. He had to have that faint hope.
Despite all that, Peter could at least revel in putting Hoffman in his place. Even if Hoffman’s given place was on some undeserved, decorated pedestal, Peter could easily knock it down, tapping into the squirming, friction-inducing shame Mark was a glutton for. Among more tactile, decadent things.
“Whatever,” Peter huffed, shooting his espresso down like it was cheap whiskey. He wished it was.
Before exiting his dead workspace, he considered the stack of donut boxes left on a random table, from hours earlier when more officers and agents were bustling around, ant-like. He strode over, shaking the first two boxes on the top before looking inside. One was straight empty, and the one below that had a chewed up fourth of a glazed remaining. He could have sworn on his childhood baseball cards that there were more untouched boxes. It was possible some officers took some home. But like a blessing, a wish granted, the power of manifestation—something—Peter inspected the remaining bottom two boxes to find them completely stocked.
“A nice little treat for Big Boss,” he hummed to himself, walking out with the one box poised on his palm like a serving tray. It was within the same minute that he turned back for the other one.
There was an awkward, light knock, but no answer. “Lieutenant Detective Mark Hoffman” in vinyl lettering stared back into Peter’s face obnoxiously from the shut door. He clanked his knuckles as hard as he could on the glass again, trying not to lose balance of the sliding boxes on his other hand.
“Hey! Detective! If you’re still on the clock like you’re supposed to be, you’d answer!”
There was a clearing of his throat, and some other obstructive sounds before Hoffman could reply. “Gimme like twenty minutes. Bit tied up.”
Bullshit. Was he… chewing?
The request fell on deaf ears, Strahm already turning the handle, finding it luckily unlocked. “Stupid,” he huffed.
The clanking of the metal handle mixed with muffled grunts—warnings of “Wait! Wait!”—created a chaotic sort of din that led into a surprising and tantalizing scene.
Strahm stiffened (in multiple ways) upon seeing Hoffman leaned back fully in his luxuriously-cushioned black leather chair, hand casually set on the crease where his chest (top buttons undone, practically heaving) and stomach met. That part of his shirt was peppered with crumbs. His tie draped loose, unraveled at either side of his shoulders, and sweat-dampened brown-black hairs fell over his eyes messily, the result of some labored activity. But where Peter’s eyes hovered the most was right at the rounded center of it all: Hoffman’s gut, peeking through the gaps created by the pull of the buttons, and rolling forward where his pants were undone. Actually, not undone. Upon further glance, it was a rubber band looped through the eyehole and tied to the button, pretty much indicating that Mark couldn’t close the flaps of his pants to begin with, and had to hold it together as such. Even then, the rubber band looked like it would easily snap with too heavy a breath.
It was a whole overindulgent sight to take in so quick, so suddenly. Peter felt lightheaded despite a pleased expression.
“I told you—“ Mark tried to bark in his husky voice, mustering as much anger as possible, but stopped short. He could sense Peter smirking at the way he was attempting to speak through his full mouth.
Strahm’s eyes darted to the opposite corner of Mark’s desk where one of the same donut boxes from the communal space resided.
“Ah, that makes sense,” Peter chimed, overly chipper. “Just like a pig.” He dropped the boxes carelessly onto the desk, watching them slide and nearly fall off. “Those were for everybody, you know. But you just couldn’t help it…” He stalked behind the desk, behind Mark’s chair, and clutched his fingers into the cushion, craning his head down, lips by Mark’s ear. “You thought they looked so good, but they would look even better in that gut. Tsk.”
Hoffman, all the while, felt his face heating up, past the point of even sweating—just burning up, drying up with embarrassment, wanting to crumble into a pile of dust. But all the same, he felt that pulse, that throb return—the instinctual itch that only gripped him when Peter spoke that way. He muzzled himself, keeping a sprinkled, chocolate piece between his teeth, masking any words or expressions that might seep out.
“Can you even sit up? Like correctly?” Peter tilted the chair back before letting it spring around into place.
Mark just sheepishly shook his head, eyes looking glossy, like he could weep from being cornered, berated.
“Feeling stuck? Trapped? Kinda like what you were gonna do to me, huh? Well… maybe not exactly… You did this to yourself, you big hog.”
Mark winced at that. Whenever he’d seen pornos or read anything where people in risqué situations called each other names, it always seemed cheesy, or demeaning for the sake of it. But Strahm had a way of dropping his tone and curling his inflection that told Mark “We’re both pretty fucked for this, but fucked up is fun. No one has to know.” It was suffocating.
“Go on, let me see you get out,” Strahm instructed, backing up with his arms crossed, intentional pressure in his gaze.
Rolling up on its own was the first challenge, as the curve of his belly had extended up to his ribs, with little give to even bend forward in the slightest. The rich coffee drinks and milk that was mingling with all the dough in his stomach was unforgiving. Secondly, his love handles were just broad enough to be squeezed into place by the arm rests. (The latter had been an ongoing problem that had only reached an irritating point recently.)
“Need help, big guy? I mean, watching you struggle is nice, but I don’t have all night.” Strahm couldn’t help biting his lip.
“Fuck you,” Mark managed, panting it out.
“Don’t talk back like that, I’m being nice. Let me get you up.”
Peter leaned down in front of Mark, hooking his arms under his armpits, and used his whole body to hoist him to standing. The embarrassment of the ordeal left Mark incredibly hard, unable to hide it in the slightest, especially with his pants mostly unbuttoned.
“You’re welcome,” Peter tutted. He brought his fingers to Mark’s cheeks and squeezed. “What do you say?”
“Thank you,” he complied, lips squished together in the hold.
“Good boy. Now, get down. Hands and knees.” It was like he was a dog trainer prompting a mutt. Peter took one of the full boxes and let it plop to the ground by his feet.
“What’re you doing?” Hoffman knew it was stupid to ask, knowing well what was expected. But playing dumb earned him sass. And he liked that.
“It’s your dessert. I mean, you kept that whole other box for yourself, might as well finish the rest.”
Mark was on autopilot, finding himself grumbling at Strahm while carefully sinking to his knees and propping up his backside.
“God, you’re like a dog, aren’t you?” Peter sneered. “Good job behaving so well.”
“Thought I was a pig.”
“You’re whatever I say you are, you pathetic pug. Now, come on, eat up, I brought this for you.” Peter nudged the box under Mark’s face with the tip of his shoe.
“Shut up, or maybe I’ll eat you.”
“Kinky. I’d like to see it, big boy.” Peter positioned himself onto Mark’s lower back like he had the other night, except a little less gentle this time. “You know, I prefer the mask on, but at least this way I get to see your dumb mug while you’re shoving food into it.”
Mark just grunted and grit his teeth, parading as mostly annoyed as best he could. He had to admit that lobbing the donuts into his mouth by his lips and tongue was strangely easy, but his ongoing hunger was probably what kept him at it.
“I could keep you as a fat, pampered house pet. You like that?”
Hoffman paused. “What’s with all the animal stuff? Is that some kinda thing for you? I thought it was only the pig stuff because I’m big. Fuck, you’re a weirdo.”
“What about it? I wouldn’t be talking if I were you. You’re the one with your face to the floor making a disgrace of yourself just because I wanted you to.” He lightly kicked his heel to the side of Mark’s belly. “Go on, give me an oink, pet. A real messy one.”
Mark let out a snort, unable to articulate the word “oink” with two donuts crammed in. He figured it was what Peter would prefer anyway.
“I bet this whole precinct jokes about what a stereotypical fatass cop you are. I’d like to see you wobble around here just to see what people say about it, behind your back, when they think you can’t hear them… On the flip side, just think what I could do with you in private, at home. You’d make a good house-pig.”
Mark cut a cold, blue glare, letting the begrudging, bratty acceptance warm him. What if he did want to be Peter’s little house pet? All kept and plump and wanted… Maybe. It was a bit farfetched to realistically maintain. With his position on the force, being on and accessible almost all hours of the day? No way. But… Maybe? Possibly? His brain was still caught in a riled up haze, too in a frenzy to think correctly. But the little notion would live in the rafters of his brain, far off and private, taken out for those moments alone on the couch or during a long morning shower.
“I can’t eat anymore,” was what he wanted to say, but there was no need. Without realizing it, Mark had finished off what was below him… now having to put up with the resulting low-hanging gut obstructing his movements.
“There’s still another box,” Peter snipped, crisp and curt. “But… I’ll be generous. Today.”
The last word rang out, standing to set checkpoints for more days, more badbadwrongnasty encounters. How many more times would there be?
“Need me to roll you over or have you got it?” Peter mulled on, flatly as if he was asking a tax question to an accountant.
“I got it, you cunt.” Though Hoffman just barely had it, moving slowly with discomfort, not being able to hide a wince here and there.
For the slightest moment, Peter looked genuine, a real and helpful softening in his eyes. “Take a Tums. And a melatonin. I’m done for the night so I guess you are too.” He patted Hoffman’s lower belly as a basic gesture to leave (even though it elicited a different mild jolt in Mark), and did just that, being nice enough to take the trashed boxes with him.
Once more, he didn’t look back.
Mark glanced down at the way the precise pinstripes on his shirt bowed out over his rotund form, and then took in how empty his office suddenly felt.
“Guess I’ll go deal with this at home,” he regarded his erection with snark.
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tujhse-raabta · 9 months ago
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is this fic crack
i don't think so considering how many people have died but. percy and kronos are discussing vore. i feel like this is a little cracky.
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knotwerk · 1 month ago
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so comfort fic is a thing, but i feel like there is also like. duct tape fic. fic that held you together while Shit Was Going Down
and you never know what that fic is gonna be! rarepair omegaverse hatefuck? sure. bubblegum-sweet General Audiences OTP meetcute? yup. 200k slow burn friends to lovers pining while fucking? let's goooo
sometimes it's the fic that you've had open in a tab forever. sometimes it's the fic that showed up in your email 5 minutes ago because author subscription. sometimes it's the crack fic your gc didn't actually rec so much as mention in a deranged conversation about vore
any fic can be a duct tape fic. including your own
which is to say: thank you for writing! it matters.
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