I Lean Into The Tiny Microphone. Giant Tiddies I Say. I Accidentally Crush The Microphone.

i lean into the tiny microphone. “giant tiddies” i say. i accidentally crush the microphone.

— Chomp —

[Ao3 link to the full fic]

Rating: Explicit (though if you want the explicit bits, see the link)

Status: Completed

Word count: 2,705

Summary: Little man gets the Chomp (no actual gore sry). After preparing to just be unceremoniously eaten, our man finds out he’s in for more than he expected—my first smut fic! Of course it’s for this shit lmao. Willing giantess vore, gets right into the smut, plenty of teasing and mouthplay, characters and their fate left vague but I had fun writing them so if you’re good I might explore them in later fics. Enjoy!

—

Fingertips wrapping around one of his ankles, she lifted him up, up, up, until he was level with her face—no, not her face—her lips. The delayed vertigo of the upside-down trip up hit him all at once as she brought him not higher, but closer.

She stopped just millimeters shy of contact. A small exhale washed over him—a sigh of satisfaction. As if to say, Finally.

He held his breath. He expected at any moment those lips would part and gigantic jaws would pull every ounce of him in with a single swallow. Imagining what it would be like made his hands start to shake.

Her lips twitched, but he couldn’t tell if it was in response—could she feel him trembling? Did she think it was terror? Hope? Excitement?

He had no time to find an answer—rather than moving him again, she closed the distance with her lips—softly. Very softly, as if trying to feel for certain where his face was. It dawned on him their faces were so close, she could not see his—she—and he—had to go almost purely off of sensation. The idea was rather thrilling as her lips brushed over his face, mapping out the details of his nose, brow ridge, mouth, cheeks, chin—committing them to memory. Savoring every last detail. It was both caring and keen, yet controlled in a way he could tell was holding back true desires.

Content, her lips stilled against his face. So close to him, he could not see them open, but he felt it—muscles tensing, he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to pass through those massive lips into ravenous jaws; to be consumed, body and soul.

She breathed in—smelling him, maybe. Breathing in his fear. His anticipation.

His heart hammered furiously. He tilted his head against her lower lip—questioning—What are you waiting for? Eat me.

But all she did was let out a light-hearted scoff and push lips against him, harder this time.

A kiss.

Her lower lip cradled the top of his head. Her cupid’s bow grazed his chin. Against his skin, her lips pulled into an amused little smile.

“Hanging in there?” She whispered coyly, and for a moment he thought to struggle if it weren’t for all the blood going to his head.

“I thought you were going to eat me,” he breathed.

She tilted her head. “Do you want me to eat you?”

His face burned red, but it only made her grin. Through the blurriness of close proximity, he could see white—her teeth. His pulse quickened.

She removed her lips, and disappointment rushed over him like a wave of ice—disappointment—?

“I said—”

—He jumped as her voice appeared left of his head, just above his ear—

“—Do you want me to eat you?”

“I—” His mouth opened, but upside down, the words caught in his throat.

“Hm,” she mused, and her lips returned to his face—pressing over his mouth, his nose—and she held them there, just for a second long enough to make him panic. Before he could process it, she was pressing another kiss to him—the side of his face, his chin, the other side of his face—and then she began to move down, or rather, up, his body. His throat. His chest. The side of his ribcage. His thigh—and he realized not enough blood was flowing to his head.

But she was not done with him. She slowly turned him around in her fingertips, kissing between his shoulder blades, along his spine, his lower back—her lips tingling against the back of his knee made him jump. Nobody had ever kissed him there.

She dragged her lips over his entire body until his lungs heaved and his breath was ragged—the idea of being eaten now mostly forgotten, he desperately pushed his hips towards her but found only cold, empty air as she skipped right over the almost painfully tight tenting in his boxers—again.

A frustrated noise escaped him, higher pitched than he would’ve expected. And as if this were exactly what she was waiting for, she pulled back just enough for him to see the wolffish grin on her face.

“Oh, god.”

She was on him again in an instant—this time, he was not met with lips, but her tongue. His hair stuck to his face as she licked him from the top of his head to the top of his free foot, back down again, and then came back for more. This time, she left not a speck of him dry; not a single stretch of skin pure. No, this time, she let it be known: she was hungry.

coming home to find the group of micros i have been taking wonderful care of for months, never making them feel scared or neglected or less-than, huddled around my laptop reading the most depraved micro porn i have ever written

kissing a (terrified) tiny is good but the giant slightly parting their lips to lick up the entire length of their body immediately afterwards is even better

i need to be dangled upside down by a giant with a smug grin on their face. it’d be good for my health i think