#Entowrites
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Finding Strength- Chapter 2
Nearly A WHOLE YEAR after the first chapter WE ARE BACK !!
Meet Rose, a varsity athlete who should needs to pay more attention to the concussion safety protocols. Also Grayson (you'll see a lot more of him eventually)
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Next Chapter: Chapter 3
Word count: 2160
CW: Adult language
Rose smiles. She smiles as the sweat beads that slick her brow drip into her eyes. She smiles as her limbs grow heavy, arms burning and near useless. She even, to the displeasure of her teammate, smiles as she drills. Her grin an ever present, and rather unnerving, fixture on her face as the duo works their way through their umpteenth repetition of speed drills.
Through gritted teeth Grayson Wilder manages to hiss out a quick knock-it-off before being met her forehead ramming square into his gut as she shoots yet another blast double. As her she makes contact, Grayson is swiftly reminded why pre practice Mcdonalds was a terrible idea.
Who even drills blast doubles during speed drills anyways?
As Rose plows through the take down, Grayson uses the brunt of his mental fortitude to curse their coach for having dared to suggest that doing some extra drilling with Rose would be light go’s for him- that, and to keep his meal firmly where it belonged.
Grayson lands with a grunt, and Rose takes the time to give him a sympathetic look before the two hustle back to standing, only to repeat the whole process again.
And again.
And again.
And-
The sound of the score clock's buzzer could have been a choir of angels to either athlete at this point. Sweaty, drained and sore, Rose sighs- not from fatigue, but instead satisfaction. There was a buzzing in her arms, shaky and electric with that telltale combination of adrenaline and exertion. Speed drills objectively sucked. Getting stuck with one of the 90 kilo men for a partner sucked even more. But losing her shot to go to Nationals last season has sucked the most. This season would be great- even if that meant she would have to favor the monotony of drilling rather than the excitement of scrimmage.
Think big. Rose grins, testing the sound of her new little mantra in her head. First early birds, then provincials then-
“Rose!”
Her thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a shout from her coach. Hank Miller beckons her over, a cheeky smile on his face as she jogs towards him.
“Another double and Grayson looked about ready to turn Green… son.”
Rose wishes she has the self control to groan, but instead, she laughs.
“Think he’s McLovin it?”
“He’ll be McLoving his sauna suit, that's for sure.” Hank shakes his head. With sigh he hands her a packet. Though as Rose grabs it, Hank doesn't let go. Eyebrows raised expectantly, his smile is replaced by a more stern expression.
“Filled out by Monday, got it?”
Rose rolls her eyes, but Hank’s grip remains firm.
“Don't lose it.”
In a feat of self control that could rival that of monks, Rose resists the urge to inform Hank that it's not impossible to print another copy. Though in fairness, with his downright cretaceous tech literacy, there were good odds that for him, it may in fact be impossible.
“Yes, Mom.” Finally, he relinquishes the thick stack of redundancy forms. With the packet in tow, Rose makes a B-line for her water bottle. Quick drink, stretches… maybe some footspeed drills? The thought of managing to get her legs to move with the growing weight of fatigue and lactic acid setting in was far from appealing, and there was also the weight of impending assignment deadlines to consider…
It should be a felony to have assignments due the first week of the school year...
With a groan, Rose downs her water as she meanders back on the mat to start her stretches, the cool water an oasis in the mugginess of the wrestling room. Though, the coolness of the water does nothing to hide the red hot glare she can feel burning a hole into the back of her head. A quick glance behind her reveals Hank, with a frustratingly smug pair of raised eyebrows as he casts a nod toward her packet; left abandoned on the sidelines.
With all the subtlety of an air horn at a funeral, Rose makes a show of bringing the oh-so-precious forms to her bag, grin smeared across her face as she plays up her exasperation. She can hear Hank laughing behind her, along with another “Monday” for good measure.
Looking over her shoulder Rose makes sure to shoot him a glare of her own as she shoves the papers into the front pocket of her-
A scream.
Head on a swivel, Rose's eyes immediately lock onto the source- a strained yelp escaping her as the sight sends her sprawling back. Her mind races, fumbling as it strains to make sense of what she was almost certain could not have been in her bag.
“...You good?” Hank’s voice feels like a lifeline back to reality, reeling Rose in from her shock.
“Uhh y-yeah, no. I'm good.” She lies, “Just, uh, papercut.”
Rose didn’t move. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she had been breathing. She was frozen- feeling as if even a blink would dispel the almost certainly not real reality that stared back at her.
There's…. There's a man- A very small man- in my bag.
Rose swallows nervously. Had she hit her head and not realized? Grayson had made her eat mat on at least one failed attempt at a leg shot… Could concussions cause hallucinations?
There's a tiny man in my bag.
They definitely could, right? Rose couldn’t help but notice the irony that she couldn’t remember the stupid Safe Sport Concussion Awareness presentation. What was more concerning? Hallucinations from a grade 2 concussion, or finding a tiny man in her bag?
Rose blinked.
There's still a tiny man in my bag.
In a far away reality, she hears the muffled voice of Hank asking if she's sure she's alright.
Rose hurriedly gathers up her bag at his approach.
“I’m good. Totally good. I… I uh… gotta go.”
_ _ _
Those few stuttered words were all the warning Tamius had before he was flung backwards as the bag was torn from the ground.
A plan- he needed a plan. Anything-
Instead, Tamius was met by sheer chaos. His word topples over itself, rising and falling and sending him careening into the wall of fabric. A horrible realization dawns on him.
She’s running.
Dread seemed to be the only thing anchoring him to reality as Tamius remained a victim to gravity’s indecisiveness.
He’d been caught.
That behemoth idiot had fucking caught him- Tamius grit his teeth.
No. Not yet.
White knuckled, Tamuis clung to the fabric of the bag. His eyes desperately scanning in the low light for the hole he’d cut. If he could make it back into the larger compartment he could buy himself some time taking cover in her clothes- there’d be an opportunity for escape. He was sure there would be. He’d make one.
In a mix of determination and desperation, Tamius fights against the rhythmic lurching, an awful feeling of vertigo boring down on him as his hands scramble for new grips, something- anything- to pull him closer to that fucking hole.
A lock clicked.
The sound slicing through him- an executioner's bell condemning him to his fate.
No, no, no- not yet!
The stillness that followed was truly terrifying, a contagious beast freezing him, and time itself, in place. Reality itself seemed to hold a change, like the feeling before a storm- his muscles tense, and hair standing on its end, as if current was running through him. It was an electric sort of dread- a missed step, an object about to fall, the moment before impact-
No.
The impact came in the form of five grotesquely large fingers diving into the pocket, looking far more like a Hellish mass of writhing limbs than the hands he was familiar with.
Every ounce of his being screamed- all thoughts coalescing to one;
Get to the rip.
In that moment, Tamius was not a man. He was not a being of higher intelligence. In that moment he felt no soul, no empathy, no love. He was a desperate animal scrambling towards a corner. There was no safety waiting for him just beyond the rip. All that waited behind the fabric were a few extra tortured seconds of delusion. A few painful moments where he could pretend he could reason his way out of this and avoid the reality barreling down on him in the form of five gruesome fingers.
Though reality, it seemed, had other plans.
That gargantuan fucking idiot.
The fingers coiled around him, engulfing Tamius in their impossible mass. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, echoed by that of the flesh pulsing around him- the feeling so deeply sickening he could taste bile on his tongue. Tamuis’ stomach lurches as he’s dragged out, hands grasping pointlessly for anything as he's brought forth in front of a sickeningly familiar face.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to kick, and bite and scratch until she had to let him go. He wanted so desperately to be the cause of even the smallest amount of pain. Anything to wipe that ridiculous awestruck stare off of her stupid face. Anything to pretend like there was something he could do to change the outcome.
But Tamius The Bestoyed, was a man far too smart for his own good. Cursed with reason, he was granted no security in ignorance. Pride was reserved for those who could delude themselves into believing they were in control. Much to his horror, Tamius knew better.
He’d been caught.
Trapped in the fist of a colossus, Tamius swallowed his pride. Tamius was a man of intellect and reason. So he did what any man with intellect and reason would do.
He begged.
“Please.” His voice shook, thick with fear and desperation as garbled pleas spilled forth like a river in spring. The knowledge he so prided himself with failed him, his words a stunted mess of gasping pleases and begging to be let go.
Her brow furrows.
“Pl-please.” Despite himself, Tamius uselessly strained against her fingers, wracking his brain anything he could say. Her eyes, wide and gray, were locked onto him.
Gray.
Gray like foreboding skies. Gray like-
She sucks in a breath, her eyes widening as some sort of thought passes through the near impenetrable density of her gargantuanly thick skull. For a moment, her mouth hangs agape- a look of confusion crossing her face as she takes her time forming a thought.
“... Why are you crying?”
Of all the things she could have said, Tamius had not been anticipating this.
What?
As if experiencing sympathy stupidity, his own mind goes blank, struggling to keep pace with her words. Was he? His face felt wet.
Wait- what did she mean why? How stupid could she be- As if she wasn’t obviously the reason!
Tamius wants to say something, but calling out her oblivious stupidity was out of the question. Before he’s able to gather his words, her hand opens up. No longer restrained in her grip, Tamius, completely and totally dumbstruck, finds himself sitting splayed out in her much too warm cupped hand.
He’s hit with an onslaught of thoughts, as he rapidly begins reformulating any semblance of a plan.
Could he jump? Run? Where was he? Could he fit under the door? How would he get home-
“Did I …” His thoughts are immediately silenced as she addresses him again, “... hurt you?”
Her words catch him off guard, but not nearly as much as her expression. Concern. Embarrassment? She seemed horrified at the thought, her grey eyes scrutinizing him for any sign of injury in a way that bordered on violating.
Too close- too much.
Unable to find his voice, Tamius shakes his head, scrambling back as much as the limited surface of her hands would allow. The massive, and now that he had the chance to get a good look at her, very sweaty woman eyed him curiously. She thinks for a moment, brow furrowed as the act of thinking clearly was not something in which she was well practiced.
“How did you get so small?”
What? Get?
His own expression mirrors hers, brow furrowing as realization dawns on him.
This idiot Gargo thinks I’ve shrunk…
If he wasn’t so terrified he would have scoffed. It would be his luck that he managed to have encountered the most gullible specimen of humanity imaginable. As if people just go around shrinking- wait.
People.
She thinks I’m human.
His hands rush to his ears, relief washing over him as he feels his hair, mussed just enough from this whole ordeal to have covered their not quite human shape. This… this could work. Despite the way his hands shook, despite the way his heart pounded in his chest, despite the way this was far beyond the bounds of a worst case scenario, a wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
What an idiot.
#Tamius just perpetually rolling critical failures#Man is a walking L#Also- enjoy my first borrower slur : Gargo#Theres some JUICY little foreshadowing in here#RoseOC#TamiusOC#GraysonOC#HankOC#FS#Finding Strength#Entowrites
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Bite Me
My first OCs June and Aedes are finally getting their story told!! I'm so excited to finally be posting this. This chapter acts as a sort of prologue to their OG lil comic. I'm very happy to announce I've got 10 or so chapters already written so for the next little while I'll be uploading this story weekly!
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Next Chapter: Chapter 2
Word count: 759
CW: Vampire adjacent mild gore (mentions of blood, drinking blood)
Darkness had always been a comforting embrace to Aedes. There was an innate safety amongst the shadows, and a beautiful stillness under the light of the moon. Still- but not quiet. The night, in all its ethereal splendor, held a delicate symphony; Wood frogs and crickets sang with fervor, the leaves in the canopy above whispered subtle secrets, and the thrum of a heartbeat rang out in the distance- a sirens song to someone like him.
Aedes listened intently, following the slow rhythmic beating with well practiced ease- a predator stalking its prey. His mouth watered. It had been so long since he last fed. This rural town afforded him a certain safety, but the cost of less frequent feeding was a hard price to bear. He was starved. Hunger gnawed at his insides, relentless and unforgiving in its demand to be sated, the alluring call of a potential meal pulling him forward as if it were reeling him in.
He felt almost as if he were in a trance, his fixation on the thrumming causing the world around him to fade away. The nightly sounds seemed to dissolve more and more into the ether with each percussive beat. He followed the beat, his steps marching in time as if dancing to a stranger's most intimate song. Like a doting partner, he let the song lead him, each beat bringing him closer and closer to the unwitting musician.
There he stood, a quaint two story home before him, its sage green siding looking at home within the menagerie of plant life growing wild around it. As he scanned the building, his eyes fell on an open window. He smiled. It seemed the people of rural towns found a certain safety here as well.
With the utmost care, he heaved himself up, sliting the screen along its edge as he climbed through the window. He paused, taking in a deep breath as he perched on the window sill. Closing his eyes, he drank in the smell. A scent, smooth and sweet filled his lungs, so tempting it made his breath hitch. His hands shook, and his heart pounded with anticipation- His more desperate instincts calling on him to rush towards that effervescent scent and abandon all rationality. Patience. He steadied his breath, letting his urges feed his excited anticipation.
A woman lay right there beneath him, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with her heart. Bathed in the pale light of the full moon, he marveled at her ambrosian beauty. Under the glistening light, her soft and subtle skin looked as though she was made of milk and honey, her nectarous lips full and blushing, the sight of their colour teasing hints of that… vigor that flowed so closely beneath her skin.
And her neck-
He found himself baring his teeth involuntarily, his body begging for him to drink.
She lay with her head to one side, such an innocent position filling him with such a potent hunger, as if she left herself open and vulnerable just for him. Adrenaline and hunger mingled together, dizzying in their intensity. His own heart thrummed alongside hers, beating much more wildly- a symbiotic dance between predator and prey, the thrill of the hunt intertwining with that ever-present dread of being caught.
He couldn't wait any longer.
Silent as the dead, he descended on her- his movements fluid despite their uncanny speed. The call of her heart beckoning him, compelling him to indulge.
Indulge he did.
His teeth sliced into the flesh of her neck, her soft skin offering no hint of resistance to his bite. He suppressed the urge to groan.
The taste - he shivered.
She tasted like life.
On his tongue, she was a reprise. Her warmth filling him- her blood rejuvenating and invigorating. His mind felt dizzied, dancing on a drunken high he never quite understood. He felt a stupor come over him and welcomed it, riding out the bliss as he drank.
An oasis is she,
So sweet on my tongue,
If I could drink my fill I would drown-
He gulped with a primal desperation, his gluttony feeling boundless.
Such an insatiable creature am I,
You, the ambrosia my lips pursue
Dear, my hunger consumes me,
please, let me consume -
Her breath hitched.
Suddenly, the night was no longer still.
In the blink of an eye, his world shifted- or more accurately, flipped- as gravity suddenly ripped him away from his indulgence. His mind reeled, desperate to understand what was happening.
To his horror, he found himself falling.
#AHHHHHH#I'm so happy to post this#The first chapter is very short but the next few are much longer :) :)#Aedes is such a little fuking creature#g/t#giant/tiny#Entowrites#Bite Me#aedesoc#juneoc#g/t writing#g/t story#Macro/micro#tiny vampire
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The Shadow We Cast - 4
Two guys and too many beers leads to more shenanigans.
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Previous Chapter: Chapter 3
Next Chapter: Chapter 5 (Coming Soon)
Word count: 2998
CW: Adult language, substances (beer/drinking), animal death (fishing/hunting)
It was beyond crazy to me that the most normal I’d ever felt was drinking beers with a weird little man who stood no more than, what, 6 inches tall at most? How many years had it been since the last time I had this much fun? The last time I felt like I could talk and laugh this freely? It just felt so… normal? The thought seemed ridiculous- I mean, the situation was anything but… and yet here I was, thoroughly buzzed and listening intently as if we were old friends.
Sal paraded around the table, reenacting some grand adventure I could only wrap my head around with the help of however many tallboys I’d downed over the past few hours. Tales of hunting monstrous beasts and climbing unfathomable heights. He wove wild stories of a world so foreign yet so familiar… quite literally a world in my backyard.
As I nursed another drink, Sal set the scene, recounting a day-long trek he'd made out to the lake. Mist rose off the water as loons called to one another, their haunting voices echoing off the calm water. He watched intently as they slipped under the water, barely even a ripple disturbing the surface of the lake.
As if he was painting a picture in my mind, I sat enthralled, feeling as if I could feel the crispness of the water washing away the heat of the sun as he spent the day swimming in the shallows. The way he spoke… It didn't feel like I was imagining his retelling from my perspective- but his own. His perspective felt like something … almost fantastical.
"I tried to lure some of the minnows, but I couldn't get close enough to spear them without them darting off.” As if still wielding a spear he eyed the non existent minnows, patiently following some unseen motion as he remained poised to strike. “The bigger minnows seemed slower, but they wouldn't come near shallow enough. I ended up using some of the dried grub rations I'd brought with me as bait, and boy did it work like a charm. I swam I bit farther out with the bait and-"
Spear raised, I could practically see the imaginary impact- watching as the massive fish- or minnow, thrashed against the sharpened twig. I was enthralled- the way his muscles moved with the motion was almost… intimidating, bringing forth thoughts of him human sized, spearing a monster of a fish while swimming in some dangerous Amazonian river.
“The damn thing was a bitch to swim with,” he groaned, annoyance clear on his face, “For one- it was heavy. But worse,” Sal huffs, “It was still moving.” Despite the exasperation on his face in recounting the ordeal, the man’s face couldn’t help but return to grinning.
“So then I’m swimming back, right? Honestly more like flailing with the stupid minnow in tow, but I’m keeping above water for the most part… but I keep hearing this clicking… almost squeaking noise? Weirder yet- it's coming from below me.” He pauses, lowering his voice and I’m quite literally reeled in by his story, leaning forward on the edge of my seat.
“Then- whoosh!”
Sal grabs at the air. My heart jumps in my chest as the man’s hand lashes out just inches from my face.
“This monstrous bastard of a creature - absolutely huge,” He pauses, shooting me a cheesy grin, “Second only to you, big man.” I snort and Sal picks right up where he left off, “It was all murky brown with thick these thick… whiskers? And it just sucks me into its mouth with this horrific gulp. Next thing I know I’m being dragged underwater, half in its mouth, pounding on its head just hoping it’ll let me go if I hit it hard enough.”
My breath hitches, a shudder running through me as I make the connection- A catfish.
“With nothing to lose, I stab it. The spear goes right through its eye and-” Sal pauses, making sure he has my full attention.
“And?”
“Nothing!” Sal laughs as if it was hilarious and not down right horrifying, “That stupid thing didn’t even flinch! I don’t know if it didn’t go deep enough or if I just missed any vital enough part, but it did absolutely nothing!”
He leans forward, no longer laughing as his face takes on a grim expression.
“At this point I start to get worried.”
“Start?!” I scoff. Sal dismisses my interruption with a wave of his hand.
"My lungs are burning, and the thing’s clamped down hard on my stomach. I'm stuck holding that stupid spear for life as it keeps doing this.. this…” He shudders, face twisting in disgust, “-weird gulping thing,” Sal shakes his head as if banishing the memory, “So I ripped that spear out and using everything I had I-” His fist came down, “- drove that spear right back into its head.”
Sal pantomimed a gruesome show- stabbing again and again in the world's most horrific display of charades as he brutalised the memory of the catfish.
“Finally,” He says, voice filled with a mix of relief and exasperation as if he’d just relived the whole ordeal, “it dies.”
I, stupidly, sigh in relief, as if somehow I couldn't have predicted the outcome with him quite literally standing in front of me.
“My lungs are on fire as I swim to the surface- and man, air never tasted so sweet.” Looking down at Sal, he's beaming, laughing like a kid as he recounts his victory over the massive fish. “And then it hits me- tasted!”
I furrow my brow, not quite following. Sal continues, frustration returning.
“No spear- and no fucking minnow! As if, after all that, air was gonna be the only thing I’d be tasting!”
After a brief pause I couldn't help but laugh. His smile grew even wider as he raved on, swinging his hands as he continued on about his harrowing ordeal.
“I refused to swim back empty handed after that shitshow- So I spent the whole afternoon dragging that giant bastard back to shore!”
Fuck. I stare at him, eyes wide. I can’t shake the disbelief as I try to think of what would be the equivalent feat- Dragging an orca back to shore? …Something bigger? I’ve never been an avid fisherman (nor did I have any plans to start) and really had no concept of how big the catfish in the lake got aside from the notion that they were definitely bigger than Sal.
“I get that monster to land- spend about 30 minutes on a fire that just won't start, until I'm finally able to start cooking that beast!”
He paces along the length of the table, his steps not nearly as sure footed as they had been a few hours prior. Even with his tiny frame I can easily make out the sheer rage simmering behind his eyes.
“And y'know what?” His voice, now starting to slur, is teeming with all the theatrics of a man at his absolute limit. I swallow, desperate to hold back a laugh I know is coming.
“What?”
“That fucking thing tasted awful!” Each word was spat with such ferocity it was as if he was trying to spit out the memory of the creature's taste.
There was no helping it.
With my inhibitions long since drowned, I laugh. I laugh louder than I have in years. I laugh until my sides ache- until tears prick at the edge of my eyes.
And he laughs with me.
“Pond scum! Tha' shtupid thing tasted exactly how pond scum smells!”
My vision blurs, tears threatening to spill over as he continues to rant and rave, but the sound of my laughing completely drowns out whatever critical opinions he was espousing on catfish edibility.
Wiping at my eyes, my brain takes a few tipsy seconds to focus back on the little man. Still shirtless, Sal had sat back, reclining with his back against one of the many empties as he lifted up what was arguably the equivalent to a very generous pitcher to his mouth with little effort- the relative ease of the action catching me by surprise as I imagined myself fumbling at doing the same.
He… he was built.
Quite literally a brick shithouse, if said shithouse belonged to Barbie.
Broad seemed like a fitting word. Broad chested, broad shoulders, broad smile- Hell, even his legs had a width to them. Sal looked as if he had stepped directly out of an instagram fitness post, with his … excessive biceps flexing under the weight of the shot glass, the act a paradoxical effortless display of effort. Even at his diminutive size, I could tell this man was anything but small. He-
He coughs.
My eyes dart away from his body in an instant, snapping back to his face… accompanied with heat rising in my own. As my eyes meet his, I’m again struck with the absolute absurdity of the situation.
I'm here… getting drunk… with a tiny man… He’s right there- arms reach in front of me…
And yet he still doesn't seem real.
My hand twitches at my side.
Touch him.
As my hand slides towards him, his gaze quickly flicks from my face to my hand and back to my face again. Confusion flashing across his features for a brief moment before his lopsided grin reappears. My finger tips barely graze him as he sidesteps my hand, shoving my fingers away.
Huh. There's a surprising amount of weight behind his push.
“Hands t'yourself, Big Guy.” Sal laughs, “You gotta take me to dinner first.”
It takes a moment for my brain to follow his words, and I snort.
“Is that not what I did?”
Sal blinks.
His own brain seeming to lag as realization dawns on him. After a moment's delay, he laughs.
Sal takes an unsteady step forward, the sway in his weight more noticeable than before. He’s still smiling, but a look of concern crosses his features as he stares at the ground in front of him.
“I feel weird.”
“You’re drunk.”
He looks back up towards me and I point to the drink. After a moment', Sal nods, seemingly cluing in. Maybe? I really couldn’t tell. For all I know, that nod might have been him nodding off with how stunted the gesture had looked.
“It…” He starts his sentence and seems to forget it half way through, taking a long blink in between words “... makes you dizzy?”
I lean forward to rest my head on the table, starting to feel all too alike.
“Mmm- yeah, when you’ve had a bit much.”
With that, I slid the shot glass away from him- An act which was apparently the most egregious party foul ever to have been committed. Shouts of protest erupt beneath me, as he trails after the glass.
With a laugh, I try to shoo him away, but man, the little guy can move. Despite the sway to his stride, Sal ducks my hand with ease.
“Dude,” I laugh, opting to pick up the glass, “You.. uh, you’ve had 'nough- you're gonna get sick.”
My words feel thick, almost sticky, in my mouth, and the thought crosses my mind that I should probably be taking my own advice.
“'m fine.”
I snort. The man didn't even know what beer was all of two hours ago, and here he was thinking he knew his limits.
“'s if you’d know,” I chuckle. “You're stumblin' 'round.”
Sal narrows his eyes.
“I am not!”
“Oh really?” My words slur together, thick with condescension and alcohol as a smile down at him. I shove a finger to his chest, I give a little push. Sal shoots glare as he staggers back.
“See?” I chuckle, “You're totally shtumbling!”
Eyes wide, he stares up at me, brain seeming to short-circuit for a moment before a goofy grin plasters itself across his face. I feel my own face mirror his expression as we break out into drunken laughter.
The laughter hit me hard.
I laughed at Sal's near cartoonish drunkenness.
I laughed at how he stumbled with a push from a finger.
I laughed at the strangeness- the reality shattering strangeness- of his very existence.
This... this is really strange...
As our collective laughter died down I took in a deep inhale. I needed to know more. I couldn’t keep up the half assed charade of normalcy.
“Sal-”
In the brief moment I’d let my guard down, the tiny man quite literally pounces. I yank my hand away a fraction of a second before he lands, Sal stumbling as his weight falls forward. Before his face makes contact with the table, Sal seemingly just… goes with it? Just flowing with the momentum as if stumbling forward had been completely intended. With surprisingly little effort, his would-be fall morphs into a drunkenly graceful forward roll, carrying him to a stand- albeit, an unsteady one.
For a moment, I’m at a loss for words, and before I’m able to react to whatever odd show of athleticism I’d just witnessed, he’s already at it again, eyes locked onto the shot glass like a cat locked onto a mouse. I move to shoo him away with my free hand, yet I’m met with nothing but empty space as Sal scrambles underneath the gesture.
Again, he tries for the glass.
Launching himself at my hand, I feel his hands graze my own before I lift the glass out of reach. Sal lands with a stumble, a lopsided grin sitting smugly on his face as he looks from the glass to me.
Sal lowers his stance, looking something between a sprinter at the blocks and a mountain lion set to pounce.
Seeing the gears in his head turning (albeit, slowly), I clue in. Before he gets the chance to scale me for the beverage, I make a grab for him.
And yet, despite my efforts, somehow Sal winds up on top of my hand. It was like trying to grab at water- with him just flowing out of my grasp. Abandoning the shot glass, I grab at him with my free hand- watching dumbstruck as he drunkenly pivots, turning to jump at my in coming hand.
I freeze- Trying and failing to keep my hand steady as Sal hangs off my fingers.
With my lack of reaction, Sal takes the opportunity to climb my fingers like some sort of rope ladder.
To my horror, he climbs all of them, heaving himself to a shaky stand on the side of my index finger- Hands on his hips and grin on his face.
I meet his gaze and he laughs, his expression smug as he wags his finger at me.
“Too shlow.”
Arms out in a stumbling balance act, Sal begins walking across the edge of my hand looking oddly similar to a failed roadside sobriety test. Pausing, he frowns, pouting in frustration before bending over. For a moment, I think he’s about to throw up. Instead, he plants his hands firmly on my forearm.
My stomach drops.
With no effort whatsoever, Sal switches to walking on his hands- somehow just as drunkenly. Swaying side to side, every “step” seemed to overcompensate for the last, looking as if he was perpetually on the verge of tipping over.
And then he did.
In a split second, I’m sober.
My hand darts out, closing awkwardly around his form with all the grace and fine motor skills of a man marginally less drunk. Unmoving and unblinking, Sal stares up at me, a strange sound escaping him… almost as if a hum got caught in his throat. I could have almost been convinced he was nothing but an action figure with the way Sal went rigid- if not for his heart beating wildly beneath my fingertips.
My own heart drummed in my ears, and for a moment, just a single moment, it didn’t bother me that he was sticky.
He swallows. The tiny, but very human action feels uncanny at his size. The rise and fall of his chest, the strangely sizable weight of him in my hands… all of it is just so… strange. He feels solid - tense beneath my grip. Fuck- even at his size he felt strong. My eyes trace over the myriad of scars that marred his skin, gaze lingering over the clear bite mark that covered his shoulder and chest…
I hadn't even noticed my thumb tracing over it until I felt him try and push the digit away.
“Mark-”
“Oh- sorry.” I adjust my grip into something I assume is more comfortable, opting to hold him in a way that left him semi-seated in my palms rather than awkwardly dangling from a first.
It's a weird sight, seeing a grown man sitting in your hands. Every small movement I make has him sway, his head drunkenly lolling back as he slurs a few indistinguishable words with a chuckle. Up close like this he looks just about as drunk as he sounds- red in the face and eyes struggling to stay open.
Adjusting my grip, I cringe.
He was more than just a little sticky.
His pants clung to my skin, peeling off as I moved like a Band-Aid being removed. The mental image sends a shudder down my spine.
I consider taking the opportunity to wipe off the concerningly sticky little man while I have the chance, though a more rational voice in the back of my mind argues that a good host doesn’t assault their “neighbor” with wet wipes.
Below, Sal grumbles something unintelligible, clearly displeased with me as he swats at my fingers. Though despite his attempts, my fingers lingered.
Ugh- He left a stain on my hand!
I glare at the dark smear of sauce he’d wiped off onto his pants, silently reconsidering the option of dousing the man in dish soap, let alone wet wipes, etiquette be damned.
Instead, I opted for another drink.
#WE'RE BACK BABY#Things are about to get interesting#Sal is and will always be a menace#Mark is fighting demons to not toss Sal in the sink#The Shadow we Cast#TSWC#SalOC#MarkOC#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t fluff#g/t writing#entowrites#size tumblr#size difference#gt#gian/tiny#macro/mirco
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How many characters do you have?
ACK! Too many. I think this is a nice opportunity to show off some wips/art of my mains 💕
Currently I have 4 ongoing stories (Which you can find here on my Masterpost)
Bite Me has Aedes and June
The Shadow We Cast has Mark, Sal and Betty (with another character to be introduced very shortly)
Finding Strength has Rose and Tamius
INSTAЯ has Dawn, Honey, Bram and Clyde
These guys are still going through designing, but I should get a design settled soon!!
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I am still on a bit of a posting hiatus until I make a big enough buffer to post regularly, but on my return I'm planning to post one chapter of each story, followed by weekly Bite Me updates, and monthly updates for The Shadow We Cast. The other two will have sporadic updates until I either finish Bite Me/TSWC or create a big enough buffer for either of them to put on a posting schedule.
#Thank you for the ask!!#I can't wait to show off the instar crew#I have a pretty solid idea of Bram#But I keep going back and forth on Dawn and Clyde's design#Ugh I have a few other stories scraping around in my mind but I want to finish a few of the ongoing ones before introducing new ones#khdagfakjg#AskEnto#entodraws#g/t writing#TSWC#Finding Strength#Entowrites#INSTAЯ#Bite Me
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Bite Me - Chapter 2
Chapter 2 is here!! Slight deviations from the OG lil comic, but that just means I will have to redraw it. Aedes is having a pretty rough night.
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien
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Previous Chapter: Chapter 1
Next Chapter: Chapter 3
Word count: 1686
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language
June Murphy sits bolt upright, awaking to a sharp pain on her neck. A small but significant weight falls onto her lap as her mind blinks away the remnants of a dream. Confused, she looks down, squinting in the dark of her room. There was something on her lap-
It moved.
The sudden movement catches June off guard- a startled yelp escaping her lips. Something was in her bed. Something alive. Was there a mouse in her bed?? A rat?? The… thing takes off, scrambling in a way that causes her unease to rise. It didn't move right- It's limbs too long for a rodent, it's body far too thin. What could it- before she could finish her thought, it stood.
She didn’t scream - she couldn’t. Fear seemed to constrict her voice into some strained combination between a gasp and a yell.
What the fuck was in her bed!?
This felt like it should be a dream... but everything, despite the absurdity, felt very, very real. Yet, as if under the influence of some bizarre feral instinct, she feels like a bystander as she watches her hand shoot out, catching the figure in a tight fist. As soon as her fingers clasp around it she feels it squirm and thrash within her grasp, weird not-rodent legs kicking wildly. She shudders. It… it was snarling… was it feral? She feels as it claws into the flesh of her palm and a sense of dread wells up along with the pain; What if this thing was rabid?
In the dark of her room, June struggled to make out details, but whatever it was it did not like being caught. Steeling her nerves, she hesitantly brings it closer to her face. Her movement seems to only result in more frenzied struggles from the…the… What the Hell was that??
She blinks.
The scene before her is beyond surreal. A man- a very tiny man- thrashed about wildly in her grasp. As her eyes adjust to the dark, they meet with its- his own; wide with horror.
Her gaze falls to his lips- smeared red with blood. It gives a terrified little cry, sounding all too human in its fear.
All at once, June was wide awake.
It… it really was a man. A very tiny and very terrified man in her hand… A million questions seem to sound off at once in her mind. Was it really a man?? Maybe he was some sort of …creature?? Could he speak? Why was he in her house? Her last question fills her with a growing sense of horror at the snarling being in her hand…Why… Why was he in her bed?
The creature snarls, and before June has time to react- the creature bites, her hand releasing reflexively. She watches in horrified fascination as the thing jumps, diving off the side of her bed, its desperation all too clear in the way it scrambles to its feet.
The tiny frame of the… the what? The creature? The word felt wrong in her mind. That was no creature. That… that was a man. She watched as the tiny frame of the something darted around the corner of her desk. June felt like her brain was on autopilot. In a flash she was out of bed and dropping to her hands and knees, sliding herself in place between the door and the…. The… being.
“No, no, no, no-” A flurry of desperate words came from the creature. June drew in a sharp breath at the sound… It could speak. For a second, the thought sent a shiver down her spine. What the Hell had she found? As her eyes strained to adjust in the dark, she began to make out more details in its form. It moved erratically; head on a swivel- until its gaze settled on her… She felt uneasy. It looked intelligent… It looked like a man.
He was long limbed and lean, with a mess of black hair cut short at the sides. Her eyes were drawn to his ears, long and pointed and certainly not human. Was he an… elf ? A fairy? Despite him being directly in front of her, her mind dismissed the thought. That was ridiculous… Though, this whole situation was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
His chest heaved he backed himself into the corner of where her desk met the wall. It… he stared up at her, his large ears pinned back. She thought she might have glimpsed tears glittering in those tiny eyes… but more unnervingly, she could very easily see the blood on his lips. As he catches her eyes on his face, he frantically wipes the blood away- his movements unnaturally quick.
"Please." His voice, far deeper than she would have expected, cracked as he spoke. The sound made June wince, "Don't…" He stared up at her, eyes wide as he choked out his words "-hurt me."
His words caught her off guard- why would she… she wouldn’t- oh. June sees the way the little man holds his side. Had she hurt him when she grabbed him? She hadn’t meant to but… she certainly hadn’t been gentle in her panic either.
"Oh… no-I …I would never…." June struggled to find the words. She was still battling with the absurdity of the situation and his near palpable fear seemed to catch her off guard. For a moment, a fraction of the tension leaves the little man's frame. Almost as if acting on its own, June’s hand slowly reaches forward, wanting to comfort the pitiful sight.
The movement, however subtle, did not go over well. The man fell back, his back pressed firmly in the corner of her desk and the wall. Had there been even the slightest gap between the two June had no doubt he would have shoved himself between the two to avoid her touch. His face twists to a look of complete terror- eyes desperate and pleading.
“No! No, please!” She froze. Never in her life had she heard a voice so filled with fear, “Stay away from me!” June immediately withdrew her hand. His chest rose and fell with such speed it made her sick to her stomach. She felt her throat tighten… the thought of causing someone so much distress was overwhelming to the point of suffocating. She racked her brain for something-anything to say, but his shakey words interrupted her frenzied thoughts.
"Are you trying to catch or-" his voice faltered, "-kill me?"
Oh.
She grimaced. June didn't like that question… mainly because she was all too aware of her answer.
"If I'm being honest," she began, the words feeling like sandpaper on her tongue, "I do want to …um, catch you." She cringed. The word itself seemed to catch on her tongue..it felt dirty. You didn't catch a … a person. Was that what he was? But people… well people certainly weren't this small- And he was in her house! At the very least she deserved some answers... But even as those thoughts rose in her mind she knew all too well that they were just justification for a much greater force at play; curiosity. For a brief moment, the little man's breathing stops, his jaw agape, frozen from her admission. June watches as he looks quickly to her side, clearly looking to make a dash, then thinking better of it. As his eyes square back to her there seems to be a shift in his demeanor. She fumbles with her words, trying to elaborate in a way that doesn’t sound so blatantly awful, “I mean- It.. its not-”
“-And what if I don’t want to be caught?” There's venom in his words. His voice is angry… accusatory, but most potent of all, his voice is racked with fear. The raw emotion distills an unease June, as if the potency is just too much to take in. There was no lying to herself, no pretending she was unaware. Even in the dark corner of her room his fear was clear as day, and she knew without a doubt she was the source. Yet, his fear of her wasn't quite the source of her unease. No… it was that she knew she had all the power to stop it. She could just let him leave, whatever he was… but she wanted- no, she needed answers. She refused to outright think it, but the concept was still there in her mind, abstract and untouched; Until she got answers, his feelings came second to her own.
“If you didn’t want to be caught by me, then just what were you doing in my house?”
All at once he goes rigid. Petrified.
Shit.
June swallows her frustration, immediately back peddling.
“Look, you’re not- I don’t have to ca-” June sighs, rubbing her temples. There really was no good way to word this. "You don't have to be… caught…” The word still sticks in her throat, “I.. I just need some answers.”
She swallowed. Both literally as well as the guilt that gnawed at the edges of her mind. He looked horrified.
“I.. I really don't want to scare you... I just… don't want you to leave…Not before I get some answers.” June grits her teeth. Each of her responses left a foul taste in her mouth. She knows what her words truly mean; you’re my hostage until I get what I want. She pushes that thought deep down, wanting to forget her disgust.
“I don't have to be caught as long as I don't leave??” His fear seemed to evaporate for a split second as fury bled into its place, “Being caught and not leaving are the same damn if the premise is I don't want to be here!!” Just as fast as the rage had filled him it left… deflating him. His expression turned desperate, "And what happens if I try to leave, huh?" June sees tears welling up in his eyes. "Would you just catch me then?"
“I-” June’s voice falters. She knows her answer instantly, worse yet, she knows the shame on her face makes it clear.
" … I'm sorry."
#The snack that smiles back : June#Although more like the snack that talks back cause this girl wants answers#Ye old G/t debate: are you a trespasser or are you being held hostage?#g/t#giant/tiny#Entowrites#Bite me#JuneOC#AedesOC#G/t writing#G/t story#Tiny man#Tiny vampire#giantess
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Spoiled Snacks
I love the concept of size shifters who unabashedly love being small. Not so much in a fluffy sense where they just feel so safe and comfy... But in a spoiled wanting to be pampered sense. Like smug little gremlins who just want to be carried around.
Word Count: 632
CW: Fearplay,
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No matter how many times you ask them not to walk all over your plate, they never listen. Every meal time its the same thing. They shrink down, hoisting themselves up onto the table, and walk right over to your plate, enjoying whatever you’ve made for yourself.
“Ohh,” their voice is thick with that quintessential mocking tone, “but I’m sooo small. You won’t even notice what I’ll take.”
You narrow your eyes.
“I wish I didn’t notice you.” They snicker at your remark, continuing to pick off of your plate. The first time they had shrunk had been jarring to you both. It had been without warning. One moment they were walking towards you, and the next they had seemed to vanish into thin air. Had it not been for their soft yelp of surprise cutting the silence you weren’t sure you would have noticed them.
Things... things had changed since then. You almost missed the days where they had sat in your cupped hands, eyes wide with fear. The way the had to close their eyes before you touched them, the way their hands shook before they touched you... With the privilege of hindsight, they had been adorable. While you didn’t want them be terrified of you again, anything was better than this.
What had once petrified them had quickly become their preferred state. You couldn’t remember the last time they willingly walked somewhere; you having become their primary mode of transportation. Personal space had so quickly become a thing of the past. They quite literally had taken to walking all over you, and they absolutely knew it.
They were smug.
You try to shoo them away from your plate with a spoon but they duck and weave, nimbly avoiding being pushed from your plate. Their laughter feels taunting. You lean closer to them, eyeing them up and down. All you get in return is a smirk as they sit on the edge of your plate.
“I miss when you used to be scared of me.”
For a split second, that smug little smirk gets wiped right of their face. You don’t quite catch the emotion that replaces it before they begin to chuckle, but you didn’t miss the way the tips of their ears had turned bright red.
“Thats on you.” They say nonchalantly, as the pull some more food directly from your plate. When they see the confusion on your face, they continue, “I never really thought of you as a gentle person until all of this” they say, gesturing to themselves. “But boy was I wrong. They way you’d dote on me left and right? The concern in your eyes every time you picked me up? How am I supposed to be afraid of someone as soft as you?”
You snort. Soft, huh? You can feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips.
“How are you supposed to be afraid?” Slowly, you pinch their ankle between your thumb an index finger, “How about I show you?”
You lift up, bringing their foot up towards their head and sending them tumbling to their back. Before they can sit back up you press your fingertip to the center of their chest; pinning them to the table. The feeling of their heart beating wildly in their chest is oddly exhilarating.
“How about you stay off my plate,” you say, as you loom over their tiny frame. You bring yourself much closer, face inches away from their body. “Lets I mistake you for something a bit more-” you pause, flashing them a toothy grin “tasty.”
The change occurs suddenly.
One second you’re looming over a miniature human, the next, there's a full grown person splayed out on your table, eyes wide, cheeks red, and completely on top of your plate.
You’re the first to break the silence. Doubling over, you laugh. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you look at their flushed face, expression completely dumbfounded.
“Don’t you worry,” you tease, “I don’t eat spoiled snacks.”
#This was supposed to be a tiny post#BUT ONCE THE FEARPLAY TRAIN STARTS IT CANNOT BE STOPPED#flirty fear play is so underrated#fearplay#g/t#G/t fearplay#Entowrites#Giant/tiny#g/t writing
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Finding Strength
Finally finished a G/t July Prompt; Impulsive! I’ve been planning this story for a little while based off of this post, and I’m so happy for an excuse to start posting it!
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Next Chapter: Chapter 2
Word count: 2715
CW: Adult language
Life was good, thought Tamius, and he needed it to stay that way. The tiny man slipped out from the small hole he’d made behind the fridge, with more than just a little skip to his step. He found himself dancing as he trotted out from beneath the appliance, some peculiar human song stuck in his head as he strutted out in the open. Like clockwork, at 4:01 pm he had heard the human clamor down the stairs, apparently giving up the hunt for some misplaced bottle of perfume, followed by the thud of the door as she darted out of the house. A near identical scene would play out almost every other day; Always in a rush.
This human's apparent lack of time management leading up to whatever it was humans did when they left their homes was the greatest blessing he could ask for. That titanic fool would pick up her phone, notice the time and barrel out of the house, hastily leaving whatever it was she had been doing unattended. Most days this was usually in the form of food left on the table, alongside whatever they had been doing on their laptop.
He quickened his pace to a jog, the air around him filled with the scent of something absolutely divine awaiting him on the kitchen table. His parents had been so worried about him going out to find a place of his own- but man, they were worried for absolutely nothing. All that fretting and bothersome nagging about safety protocols and potential dangers had nearly had him question if he was ready to go out on his own- but this was so easy! He’d somehow managed to stumble across the easiest human imaginable; The epitome of obliviousness. This colossal oaf a woman was scattered, unorganized, and inattentive; the perfect combination in his mind. Scavenging was always plentiful, and even better yet, she never noticed a single thing he took.
A total ditz, he thought.
His luck hadn’t stopped there either. Even with her chaotic nature, this perfect mess of a human was somehow still wonderfully predictable; Out of the house by 4:00pm nearly everyday, back by 7:00pm, in bed by 10:00pm.
But the best part? That enormous twit was the least intimidating human he’d ever seen. He had watched them countless times, almost pitying them as they struggled with each step up the stairs. Their movements were perpetually stiff and sluggish, as if they were perpetually exhausted… The only time he’d seen any sort of energy from them was when they’d dart out of the house.
He tossed his hook upwards, a smirk playing across his face as it caught the edge of the table on the first try. Oh yeah, this borrowing stuff is a cakewalk. Hand over hand, he scaled the length of kitchen twine he’d swiped a few weeks back, loving how its rough texture provided him extra grip as he climbed.
Heaving himself up, he surveyed his score. He could have kissed that bumbling idiot. There it was, a half finished stack of banana pancakes, complete with chocolate chips and maple syrup. His mouth watered. He walked up to the plate, hands perched on his hips. He had brought a wad of cling wrap to take back food in his bag… but…
Fuck it.
She wouldn’t be home until 7:00, why not enjoy a meal at the table?
Tamius continued to hum that strangely catchy human song, reveling in the freedom of being out in the open. He found himself bouncing along to the rhythm, anticipation building for the oh-so-sweet bounty before him. Nimbly, he danced around the plate, his skillful movements filled with lighthearted vigor, as he avoided stepping in the pools of syrup. He ripped off a large and syrup soaked chunk of pancake, and proceeded to stuff his face. Thank God for dumb huma-
His thought was interrupted by the slam of a door and a myriad of expletives. He felt his body go rigid.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m going to be late.”
Fuck was right.
Deep breath. He hastily scanned his surroundings. Kleenex box on the table. Cup to his right. Bag on the chair- Bingo.
He dove.
Tamius landed in the open bag with a soft thud, rolling into a stand.
He felt a familiar cocksure grin creep back onto his face. Too easy. This human could throw no curveball that could catch hi-
For the second time in the span of less than a minute, his thoughts were interrupted. His world lurched and he was flung back, narrowly stifling a yelp.
Oh- oh no.
She had come back for the bag.
It was his turn to curse; a torrent of expletives slipped from his lips, whispered fiercely through gritted teeth. Where the fuck was he supposed to hide?? He was trapped. Unknowingly caught. No. This couldn’t be happening. His heart pounded in his ears, nearly drowning out the thunderous steps taking him further and further away from his home. He felt his throat tighten. Fuck. He ran trembling hands through his hair, pulling at firstfulls as if should he pull hard enough he’d rip an idea straight from his scalp. The booming slam of the car door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.
He needed a plan, and he needed one now.
Breathe. Scan. Asses. Decide. He inhaled deeply, and tried desperately to ignore how his breath quivered in his chest. He was fine. Not scared at all. This human was an absolute ditz. The epitome of human idiocy. He just needed to figure out how to keep out of that colossal ditz’ line of sight. The car engine roared to life and Tamius felt as his every muscle stiffened. They were leaving. He steeled his nerves.
Think. Don’t focus on the car. You need a plan.
His legs seemed to move on their own, as if trying to keep pace with his frantic thoughts.
Okay, so I’m trapped. We are driving away from the house. If I stay in the bag, the bag will get brought back to the house around 7:00…
He chewed his lip. Three hours was a long time to lay in wait in the stupid confined space of the bag, but what other option did he have?? He could try to escape while that big oaf was driving, but then he’d still need to get back in the bag to get back into the house… The house that was growing farther and farther away by the second.
What if he had to abandon the bag? He had no idea where he was. Even if he did, the distance to get back would be insurmountable. His heart hammered in his chest. Leaving the bag was not an option. There was no way in Hell he was leaving this easy life behind. He would figure something out… He had to.
Tamius scanned his surroundings. The bag hadn’t been zipped all the way, and there was just enough light pouring through the opening that he could aptly assess his situation. He sat atop a towel, a pair of shoes to his left, haphazardly thrown in. There was a water bottle beneath him, along with various articles of clothing and a mishmash of smaller items scattered about; pens, deodorant, a granola bar, lip chap, perfume... He let a small smile creep on his face. This human was a mess, and he would not let himself be unintentionally found by someone incapable of intentionally finding their own belongings. If this idiot would just put things in the proper pocket, she’d have no-
Thats it!
He took the small knife he’d fashioned from a discarded razor from his hip. That massive idiot never used the proper pockets! Carefully, he crawled towards the front of the bag. Closing his eyes, he tried to visualize how the pockets were oriented on the bag. In his mind's eye, he saw it; the pouch that sat at the lower half of the front of the bag. Yes! This would work! Opening his eyes, he cautiously judged the distance to right and left. He was dead center. Perfect.
Taking his knife, he sliced methodically, keeping the incision as small as he could manage, lest his handiwork be noticed before returning home. Gingerly, he cut his way into the front pocket, clambering inside. He breathed a sigh of relief; it was completely empty. She had no reason to peek in this pocket. He was safe.
Tamius barely managed to finish his sigh of relief when he felt himself lurch forward as the car came to a halt. He clenched his teeth. Everything is fine. There’s nothing to worry about. The dumb human was just going to do dumb human things for a few hours and then he’d be back home, safe and sound. He just needed to wait it out.
His world was jostled as the bag was haphazardly lifted up and slung around the human’s shoulder. He gripped onto the internal fabric of the bag’s front pocket to avoid getting sent flying around. His stomach felt as if it dropped farther and farther with each step, and he swore he could taste the sweetness of the banana pancakes rising up in his throat. Tamius swallowed hard.
Enough of that. This was pathetic. He’d found a safe spot. All he had to do was wait around for what? Like 2 hours and change? A total cakewalk. Baby Food. An absolute nothing. This was fine and he was fine.
He listened intently, trying to gather any information he could about his location and surroundings. The sound of a door closing shut... Foot falls echoing… Voices… Voices with a particular resonance. He grimaced. Wherever he was, it sounded like a large open space. As he continued to listen, his scowl deepened. He counted the voices; one, two.. Three… four, five, six… seven…
He stopped after he reached 10. Suffice to say there were too many humans.
The feeling of dread was overwhelming. He couldn’t see a damned thing, and though he doubted he wanted to see his predicament, the lack of sight gave him a creeping feeling of being vulnerable. The booming voices resonating in an open room so far above him… he felt so small.
No.
Not felt.
He was so small.
Of course he knew he was small. He’d never stood taller than a coffee mug for the entirety of his life… and yet… he never truly felt small. Not like this. This was overwhelming. The mental barrier he'd work so hard to wedge between his conscious mind and the primal fear that lurked just beneath the surface shook under the realization of his own insignificance. Just the presence of beings so astronomically larger than himself made his stomach churn. His head fell into his hands as he struggled to keep himself from shaking. God, he felt pathetic. Just a few hours. He could manage. He would manage.
The booming chatter died down as the sound of human music filled the room. A strange rhythmic thundering coincided with the change in ambiance. He could feel the floor shake beneath him. As strange as the surrounding noise was, he welcomed the sound of human music.
You could never know what it's like
Your blood, like winter, freezes just like ice
And there's a cold, lonely light that shines from you
You’ll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use
He found his voice joining in, shaky and soft,
"And did you think this fool could never win?
Well, look at me I’m coming back again,
I got a taste of love in a simple way,
And if you need to know while I’m still standing, you just fade away,”
As he sang along softly he felt his anxiety melt away, slowly but surely. The minutes dragged on, punctuated by changes in songs, and occasional muffled shouting, indistinguishable from the surrounding noise. Tamius tried to calculate how long he had left by adding up the approximate time of each song… two minutes here, four minutes there -
Thud.
A tremor far more impactful than all those preceding it shook him from his thoughts. He heard a distinct grunt, and then, again, another thundering sound of impact, like something colossal crashing down. The noise was far greater than any foot falls he’d ever heard.
Thud.
He heard a human speaking somewhere above him. Though muffled, he recognized it as his enormous dolt of a human. She had muttered something about needing to use more.. hip?? Surely he couldn’t have heard that right.
Thud.
“Better, but like, I feel like I’m not getting any pop, you know?” What??
Another voice muttered something in apparent agreement.
“You mind if I try one more time?”
This piqued his interest. Carefully he gripped the rear of the zipper, opening the front pocket just a fraction. Just enough to see what could be causing such a commotion… and what it could possibly have to do with hips and popping??
As he laid his gaze on the pair of humans the fear he felt was instantaneous and palpable (tasting strangely like banana pancakes). He knew no amount of quiet singing would quell the rising panic from what he’d seen. For a moment, it was as if his brain refused to register the scene before him, as he stood unmoving, mouth agape. He saw his human, but it was as if he was truly seeing her for the first time.
Her messy hair, slick and soaked in sweat, and tied back revealing sharp and focused eyes. Her figure, no longer drowning in her typical oversized clothing, was not at all what he had expected. Her broad frame had always seemed to suggest she was heavier, and he'd assumed they had just been soft, or chubby… Looking now, she was certainly broad, but the size she carried was overwhelmingly muscular. Each thundering step caused her legs to tense and relax, giving Tamius flashes of muscular definition. He swallowed numbly. Awe and horror swirled in his mind. He wanted to look away… pretend he'd never seen the sheer power that had been sitting underneath her lazy attire, but he couldn't. This couldn’t be her.
She was smiling; saying something to another human towering above him. He hated how familiar it was; her smile, her laugh… it was undeniably her, yet it was as if he could barely recognize the behemoth standing before him. He stared up at the pair, mind somehow both racing and numb simultaneously… And then they moved.
He felt like the wind had been sucked out of him.
Humans were supposed to be slow. His human especially. But the reality he had become so accustomed to seemed to crumble around him. The other human reached towards her, but with uncanny precision, she redirected the incoming arm before it could touch her, her body moving with obscene fluidity. Tamius found the ease of her movements disturbing, as he watched her clear past the oncoming arm, stepping in flush to the other human's side. Her free hand reached around their body, with her trailing hand snapping around the opposite side, locking her grip tightly around the other human's body.
Before Tamius’ brain could catch up to what was happening, the human was airborne.
Thud.
His whole world seemed to shake. Both physically and metaphorically.
No.
No. No. No.
He felt bile creep up his throat. This… this couldn’t be her. She's a mess. An idiot. A ditz. Not.. not this! She fucking threw another human with such well practiced ease as slinging a bag over her shoulder. His knees trembled for a brief moment before giving out entirely. He fell back into her bag, tension rising as reality set in around him.
That human was a threat.
He looked down at his hands. They trembled. Stop.... Stop. Stop! STOP! FUCKING STOP! It felt as though he was pleading with his body, begging it to submit to him. His hands never stopped shaking. Hiding was all he had, wasn't it? Not strength, not speed, not agility… The only thing keeping him safe was the fact he was too small to be noticed.
And he needed it to stay that way.
#LETS GOOO#G/T JULY BABY#I actually proof read something for once#praise me#Bonus points is anyone realizes what Tamius is named after#NEW OC WHO DIS#g/t#g/t july#g/t july 2023#g/t fearplay#giantess#borrower oc#macro/micro#TamiusOC#Finding Strength#Giant/Tiny#g/t writing#Entowrites
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I want to read an absolutely ridiculous Gt soulmates!au.
Like, picture this.
You're going about your day, and bump into someone on the street. You turn to say something but they make some snotty comment and you get into a bit of a confrontation with them. Nothing serious but enough that it leaves you in a foul mood.
What a cold personality. Who raised someone who could be that rude to a stranger? Maybe you fantasize a little about them tripping into a puddle. You definitely replay that argument over in your head a few times, wishing you could replay that moment and say that banger of a comeback you thought of just a smidge too late.
As the day passes, this mood lingers. Isn't it funny how one bad interaction can just ruin a perfectly good d-
You hear a yelp.
You turn to face the direction, and it's like the world falls out from underneath your feet. You almost missed them initially, but you caught the movement at the very periphery of your vision. That nasty person from earlier stands right at your feet, tiny ... and absolutely terrified.
No.
No. No. No. No.
Not them.
Why them??
It wasn't supposed to go like this! You'd spent so long daydreaming of the day you'd meet your soulmate. It was supposed to be cute and fun. Maybe a little awkward, but this???
You feel your stomach in knots as you look at them. A thought that a piece of your soul that small was with them right now was chilling. Maybe it was a mistake? Could you accidentally drop a bit of your soul?
You sigh. As much as you want to doubt it, you know there's no doubting... something to do with compatible frequencies that create an attraction? You never paid much attention during that class in high-school...
You bend down to get a better look at them. They aren't bad looking... quite the opposite... and at this size? They're pretty cute. You take a deep breath. Everybody had bad days, right? They're probably-
"This has got to be a mistake."
Nope. That's it. They suck.
------
OK OK OK LIKE???
When you meet your soulmate this sort of metaphysical reaction occurs where the souls have complimentary frequencies and this somehow acts as a sort of magnetic reaction, pulling a small bit of someone's soul away from their whole. That small bit of the soul then physically manifests as them.
BASICALLY, soulmate au where your soulmate finds a tiny version of you, and vice versa.
You don't share a consciousness with your shed bit of soul, maybe some kind of shared dreams or something, so you have no idea what some part of you is dealing with.
AHH I love it. It's stupid and silly and adorable.
Angst potential?? Fluff potential?? CONSTANT SIZE SWAP DYNAMICS???
I beg of thee
Please use this silly au.
SoulSwap au? SoulShard? I dunno.
If anyone has any cutesy names for this, please share
#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t prompts#g/t shitpost#g/t fluff#absolute anarchy#i absolutely will write ATLEAST someone shots#entowrites#g/t soulmates#soulswap!au
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Ento's MasterPost
Howdy Everyone! Here's my Big Post of all projects past present and future. You can find my writing (as well as smaller prompts and blurbs) under the tag EntoWrites, as well as my art under the tag EntoDraws.
Commissions are currently OPEN (See my commission post for more details)
I'm always excited to talk about my OCs and stories (as well as just interact in general) so feel free to send asks and dms at your leisure! (I will cry with joy)
Below are my individual stories. Each title will bring you to that particular story's MasterPost, associated art, and character information.
Bite Me (Ongoing)
June wakes up to find a vampire has broken into her room- while she hadn't been under the impression vampires existed in the first place, she certainly hadn't envisioned them as diminutive human-like parasites with strangely alluring voices...
Tags: BiteMe
AUs:
Paranormal!Au (coming soon)
Mer!Au (coming soon)
The Shadow We Cast (Ongoing)
Mark can't seem to catch a break in life until life forces a break on him. Having recently moved into the middle of absolutely nowhere in some obscure little Northern town he soon finds out that he's not alone in his new home after a run in with a mysterious little wildcard of a man named Sal.
The spider loving little man is strong, fearless, and full of life- everything Mark wishes he could become (though he could do without the spiders). Yet Sal has his own personal battles he's facing.
Tags: The Shadow We Cast, TSWC
AUs:
INSTAЯ (Ongoing)
Dawn Delacroix lives alone with her dog in the boonies on a large property surrounded by woods, so when she spies something walking towards her house one cold October night she immediately knows something isn't right.
There's a creature outside... and it's getting closer.
Tags: INSTAЯ
AUs:
Finding Strength (Ongoing)
Tamius has life made. The human of the house is a Borrower's dream! Forgetful, slow, and regularly out of the house. Life couldn't be any easier- that is until a series of snap decisions leaves him tagging along with her to her regular 4:00 pm outing and he has some big revelations.
Tags: Finding Strength, FS
AUs: Fantasy!Au (Coming Soon)
Men are from Mars (Coming Soon)
One Shots
In Need of Support
#Still in construction but better than nothing <3#Finally got these bad boys organized!!#Entowrites#Ento's Masterpost#Bite Me#The Shadow We Cast#TSWC#FS#finding strength#INSTAЯ
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If June, Mark, and Rose had a “so you live with a tiny person” support group…. How would that go?
In Need of Support
A non-canon short with some mild spoilers 💕
-----
Mark groaned, head in his hands as he continued to babble, his words spilling forth like a dam had burst. He'd been quiet at first, listening intently as Rose had explained her living situations, but it wasn't until she had let a complaint slip about her tiny roommate's disdain for touch and all the complications that came with it, that he had felt the compulsion to share his own complaints.
And he had many.
Now, half an hour later, here he was, drowning both himself and the two other unfortunate women in a sea of frustrations he'd let spill forth.
"-AND HE JUST CLIMBS ON ME WHENEVER!" Mark shakes his head in disbelief, eyeing the pair of women like they'd have some miraculous solution, "Oh but God forbid I try and pick him up- then its a personal space issue!!" Running his hands through his hair, Mark huffs, trying, and failing, to sound less hysteric. "To top it all off he's... he's-" Mark makes a strained noise, face contorted in a grimace, as he grits his teeth "-he's always covered in something."
June and Rose exchange a glance at one another, Rose taking a sip of her coffee in attempt to hide the snicker that's been building since Mark had first begun his rant.
"He just shows up on my countertops- my clean countertops- covered in blood, or mud, or the sludge from my gutters-" Mark's voice steadily raises in pitch as he lists of the various substances. Once again Rose moves to sip her coffee. "Just last week he showed up head to toe in slime!!" Rose takes another sip. "And when I asked him what it was, you know what told me??" Mark laughed, though the laughter seemed like the kind of laugh one does when their 10 seconds from committing a felony rather than how one laughs at a joke. June shook her head, while Rose shook in general, desperately try to keep her own laughter internal as she takes yet another sip.
"HE SAID IT WAS 'SLUG SEASON'!! WHAT THE ABSOLUTE F-"
That was it. That was all Rose could handle. Her own internal dam breaks, spilling forth a mixture of laughter and coffee. Rose sputters her drink making a less than graceful exit as she half wheezed, half laughed the mouthful of coffee straight onto the floor.
Mark's rant trickled off, the near silence that followed filled only with Rose's hacking giggles and the occasional less than sincere apology.
Taking a breath, Rose wiped her mouth with her sleeve, before promptly joining the others in the awkward silence.
Rose pats her legs, clucking her tongue as she looks from side to side in hopes one of them will take the attention back off of her.
"Sooo..." She begins, before June interrupts, her words gushing forth even faster than Mark's had,
"I made out with a tiny vampire I found in my room and got way too into it and I,uh, bit him- and now he's been causing havoc in my room and I can't get rid of him, but also he's really hot, so I don't even know if I want to but he keeps stealing and breaking things and I don't know what to do."
Rose can't help the expression that slides onto her face. If it was anything even remotely similar to the expression Mark wore... it was not subtle. Maybe having an annoying little roommate who didn't like to be carried wasn't so bad.
#Oh don't worry Rose#you too will suffer in time#why are all my tinys little terrors in their own way#g/t community#g/t prompts#g/t shitpost#entowrites#FS#TSWC#Bite Me#JuneOC#MarkOC#RoseOc
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Bite Me - Chapter 10
What is this? Highschool musical?
June stress cleans, and Aedes stresses.
Pumped out another promptober prompt!! Glipse
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias
- - - -
Previous Chapter : Chapter 9
Next Chapter: Chapter 11
Word count: 2520
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, mild depictions of anxiety
As if a passenger in her own mind, June watches her actions playing out before her as her mind hums, buzzing with thoughts of the night- thoughts of Aedes. The shock of realization, the way he moved both too fast and too rigid. She remembers his voice, silky smooth and deep- how it cracked as he begged her to stop. She grimaces as she remembers the fear so clear on his face- and how deeply she desired it.
As her hands numbly move from task to task her thoughts seem to ebb and flow- at times, however briefly, placated by the monotony of cleaning. At first it was easy- she made her bed, picked up discarded clothing, and straightened the various contents of her desk. Yet, as her room became more and more tidy, she became desperate to find more tasks to occupy her mind.
She rearranged her plants, switching their positions from her desk to the shelves to the window sill.
Play with me, my human
She optimized the layout of her room, moving her laundry basket right beside her dresser to keep things thematically consistent- to find a logical flow. Or so she told herself. There had to be some reason- some excuse to think about anything other than him.
Indulge your delusion
His words seemed to echo in her mind and June found herself craving more stimulating tasks to busy herself- to quiet her mind. To quiet him.
So she continued on. The guitar should go near the desk, not the stand mirror. The rug looks better at the side of the bed, not the foot of it. Maybe the bed should face the other way?
June sighs.
This was getting ridiculous.
Looking at the space in front of her, her room was as meticulously kept as it had ever been. Immaculate by her standards, and yet the thoughts of him persisted. Her lips drew into a tight line. How could they not? Everything about the night was so far beyond her realm of normalcy she hadn’t even initially believed it herself.
Even now she found herself full of questions and doubts. The reality she was apparently living in felt inconsistent with the reality she’d always known. Why was he so small? How could vampires exist- what even constituted a vampire? Was he immortal? Or was he just some guy who drank blood? Two lines of thought thrashed against one another, competing for her attention. Logic, alight with curiosity, demanded answers, while the more empathetic part of her wanted a conclusion- needed an apology to be heard, a way to show him she was sorry.
Each question seemed to compete for her attention, growing louder and more desperate as she shoved them to the back of her mind while simultaneously shoving book after book back into her bookcase. Though she meandered about in silence her thoughts were loud. Unbelievably so- as if they were drowning out all actual sound. Her mind was loud- but she could be louder.
A song, gentle and familiar, starts to form on her tongue.
I fall to pieces
Each time I see you again
The notes felt smooth in a way it was hard to describe. Smooth in a way that seemed to soften the sharpness in her mind, as if the softness of the song could dull the edge of her emotions. The melody a soothing balm on her agitated mind.
I fall to pieces
How can I be just your friend?
The tangle of thoughts that constricted around her mind seemed to relax, coming undone as though the song pulled just the right thread to untangle the mass, pulling the thoughts further and further from her, as if sending them floating away on her melody.
You want me to act like we've never kissed
And yet, for as placating as it was… something felt off. June couldn't shake the thought that something was amiss- an unsettling undercurrent lingered just beneath the shallow tranquility of the song. A particular unease seemed to creep at the edges of her mind. Not a foreboding dread, but instead something lighter, almost like deja vu, as if it was something she should have known- The feeling of forgetting something but not being sure what; The feeling of pulling a loose thread only to unravel a crucial stitch…
You want me to forget
Pretend we've never met
As she sang she felt as thoughts, abstract and formless, seemed to shift in the back of her mind. As if the words of her song had breathed life into something dormant lurking in her subconscious. The words were familiar, yet not, taking on an enigmatic allure- as if they held secrets she ought to have known. With each lyric that escaped her lips, a subtle transformation occurred, as though the music itself was a conduit, channeling something she felt compelled piece together.
And I've tried and I've tried
But I haven't yet
Movement out of the corner of her eye catches June’s gaze
All at once, her heart stops and the gears that were futility catching finally seem to clunk into place. Aedes… he hadn’t left.
You walk by and I fall to pieces
I fall to pieces
The lyrics became a prophecy to unfold, as June falls to pieces. The words barely register in her mind, her lips numbly singing the words as her eyes stay locked on him for the longest second of her life. Something in her feels as though it crumbles. She’d sung the song countless times, and yet it was as if she’d never known it. The words seemed to resonate in more than just her chest. Her very being shaking under the resonance, it was as if she’d unlocked a new understanding- a whole new song. The words hadn’t changed, neither did the notes. It was something in her.
June looks away, feigning that she was looking at something just near enough, but not him. Heart beating wildly in her chest she desperately fought to keep her face as neutral as possible. How could she bring herself to look at him after all that she'd done…
He… he was still here…
He hadn’t left…
June felt a lightness in her chest. Like a flower pushing up through the concrete, a small fragment of hope seemed to bloom from within her.
Should she-
No. She dismissed the idea before it could fully form. She’d done enough damage.
But maybe she could make it right if she just-
June chews her lip.
Just what was she supposed to do? Just waltz up and say ‘Hey I’m really sorry for scaring you- it's just that you being terrified really turned me on and I kinda thought you were into it’ ??
Embarrassment hot on her face, June flops to her bed, wishing she could just scream into her pillow, but the awareness that she had company forced her to keep some sort of decorum. Instead she reaches for her nightstand, pulling out the relic that was her childhood mp3 player.
God, she wanted to make this right.
He hadn’t left yet… maybe she still could.
---
Aedes' heart seems to jump in his chest as for the briefest of moments he is once again trapped in her stare- captive in her overwhelming gaze.
Or… not?
She moves on, still singing that enchanting melody.
He releases a breath, his body all at once relaxing. She hadn’t seen him.
Slowly, he backs away. He’d been stupid. He’d nearly gotten himself caught, and for what? To watch some natural disaster of a woman sing? He sighed, making his way back to the far corner beneath the dresser.
He could have sworn they’d locked eyes…
A part of him, as terrified as he was, almost wished they had.
Her song finishes, fading off into a melodious hum as he hears her settle on her bed.
Something felt off-
No, not felt- sounded.
While his spike of bloodlust had abated for now, his ears could still pick up the faint sound of her heart beating in the distance.
It was fast.
Far too fast for someone laying down.
Fuck.
She had seen him hadn't she? But she hadn't said a thing- she hadn't even made a move in his direction…
Was she just waiting for her chance- wanting to catch him off guard?
He scowled. That didn't make sense. He was cornered. If she wanted to catch him she absolutely could.
The sound of her movement makes him jolt- nearly thwacking his head off the low cover of the dresser. He watches with his heart in his throat as she pads away from the bed and towards her closet, rummaging around in boxes she had moments ago neatly stacked away. His eyes follow her as she moves to sit at her desk- back to him.
He swallowed.
She wasn’t acting like it but he couldn’t shake the suspicion she had seen him. He frowned, not fond of staying in the spot where she had glimpsed him. He needed a better spot, and thankfully he had quite literally been delivered one. The freshly placed laundry bin perfectly covered the once bare space between the dresser and standing mirror. Carefully, Aedes made his way out from underneath the dresser, squeezing himself between the wicker laundry bin and the wall.
Nothing.
She continued to sit at her desk, idling fiddling with something.
Aedes frowns.
While entering the window and getting to the bed had been a quick and easy drop, the same couldn’t be said for the way back up. With no headboard to the bed Aedes found himself eyeing her desk as the only means to scale back up the window sill.
With her back still turned, Aedes darts from the laundry bin to the mirror- peaking back to see the human still occupied at her desk. She hummed softly to herself as she sat hunched over something, her scale and his relative angle completely obscuring whatever it was that had her focus.
Aedes sighed. Whatever it was that she was doing, he didn’t get the impression she’d be moving on anytime soon. He let him slump back against a large potted plant that sat decoratively beside the mirror. The cool ceramic felt nice against his skin. He felt his body once again start to relax, the sudden heaviness of exhaustion finally hitting him, as if he only now was bearing his full weight.
Once again, he was back to waiting.
Waiting for her to open the window.
Waiting for her to leave the room.
Waiting to get away.
The sun cast the room in a smothering warmth. Cozy, yet too much. Her hum droned on in the distance, with the occasional odd sound of her fiddling at her desk. Even in this relative calmness, the light of day was still so busy. Aedes found himself longing for the night- a cool breeze and fresh air. Peace and tranquility and freedom. He couldn’t wait to leave. To feel the crunch of dirt under his boots. The tall grass providing cover as he searched for something to feed on. A dark sky above him, stars bright and clear- the compelling song of a heart beat singing in his ears even more clear- Crystalline. A soft wordless melody filling him with vigor- resonating in his chest. The blood, sweet on his tongue, filling him with a hazy warmth. A cozy warmth. Enveloped in soft hands. Lips on his stomach. Her inaudible whispers hushed against his chest. What was she saying? He couldn’t hear her over the sound of her heart beating. Thunder in ears. So loud he could feel it- a vibration shaking him. The floor trembled beneath him
The… floor?
Aedes jolts awake.
His breath catching in his throat as her steps shake the floor. Fuck.
He scrambles to his feet, peaking around from the cover of the plant.
There she was, in all her magnitude, walking straight towards the dresser. His throat tightened as she knelt down.
No.
She had seen him.
Fuck.
Was she looking for him?
He held his breath, heart slamming against his chest as his body tensed, preparing to run the second she turned her attention his way.
Only- she didn’t.
She knelt for only a moment, and then moved on- standing up and exiting the room, a soft hum fading into the distance as she left. She hadn’t reached under the dresser, hadn’t even looked. Aedes felt as his brows knit together. She had left something. A small vaguely rectangular shape sat just beneath the dresser.
He swallowed. There was no denying it. She had seen him. She knew he was here.
So just what was she doing?
His eyes flicked from the strange rectangle back to the door. She had left. the air around him felt lighter. More crisp, as if the tension of her presence left some kind of haze. His relief however, was short lived, as he attention was brought back to the window- still closed.
Trapped.
She wasn’t even here and he was still trapped.
He drags his hands along the length of his face, frustration building. Think. There had to be something he could do in the meantime- someway he could move himself closer to escape.
His eyes flicked back to the rectangle- curiosity gnawing at his focus.
His eyes, adjusted to the daylight in the room, couldn’t quite make out what she’d left under the dresser with it obscured in the heavy contrast of shadow. The whole thing felt off, like a trick or some sort of trap, yet off in the distance he could still hear her, however faintly, humming to herself.
Aedes scowls, eyes narrowing as he tentatively moves back toward the dresser, ready to sprint away in a second notice should he hear her return.
Drawing closer, he makes out more details; black, soft edges, folds. Aedes’ frown deepens. The more he saw, the less sure he was of what exactly he was looking at.
Was it… fabric?
He nudges the folded fabric with his foot- nothing feeling amiss, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for.
Aedes pauses for a moment, considering if he should touch it- the weight of the action sitting heavy in his mind. She had left this for him clearly, in taking this he was essentially confirming that he was here…
But there was no harm in looking, right?
As he lifts it up, the fabric unfurls, and for a moment, Aedes isn’t quite sure what exactly he’s looking at. He would have thought it a blanket if it wasn’t for the strange way it hung from his hands- stitched together at seemingly random points. He turns the fabric this way and that, trying to figure out how it was supposed to be oriented. His eyes fall to something pinning two points of the fabric together - a silver stud.
Aedes blinks, some part of his mind seeming to recognize the shape.
His heart freezes in his chest as the familiarity dawns on him,recollection drawing his face into a deep scowl.
A cloak.
#OOOOH#ANGSTY CATNIP FOR ME#Lil cloak for a lil vampire#GOSH WHERE IS THE GT#I am the writer and I'm impatient with my own plot#chop chop lets get to the hand helds and fluffy fearplay#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t prompts#g/t writing#promptober#Juneoc#AedesOc#Bite Me#Entowrites
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Bite Me - Chapter 9
Aedes deals with his 5 senses while June cleans her room.
Some last minute changes made this update brutal- but we made it.
I also incorporated a promptober prompt!! Sunrise
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias
- - - -
Previous Chapter: Chapter 8
Next Chapter: Chapter 10
Word count: 1816
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, depiction of sensory overload/Panic
June Murphy blinks- the act in and of itself far more effort than it should be. Her eyes dry and sore from crying- eyelids heavier than should be physically possible, as if some invisible weight hung off them. Face raw from a tear stricken night, she stares at her wall, watching as the first light of day creeps into her room. Even her thoughts feel heavy as she stares blankly ahead.
Had she slept? She wasn’t really sure. It certainly didn’t feel like she had- though… it certainly didn’t feel like she’d been awake either.
Her joints groan in protest as she stands, neck stiff from the awkward position she’d held while slumped beside her bed. June tries in vain to rub the tiredness from her eyes, but all she manages to do is to further irritate the rawness of her tear stained face.
June chews her lip- Memories of the night still fresh in her mind. Closing her eyes, she could almost feel him in her palm- the way he twitched and squirmed under her touch. The thoughts felt dirty now with the context of hindsight. He’d been terrified, and she… she had liked it. Her hands claw through her tangled mess of hair. What the fuck was wrong with her? Who likes that? Why would she ever like that? He was so small, and had been so terrified, how could she-
June pauses.
She had been sure it was real, but now as daylight crept around her room so did doubt creep into her mind. It was all so absurd. A tiny vampire sneaking into her house? It had to have been a dream right? She just had the strangest nightmare imaginable. That was it. Maybe it had been a bit more lucid than her typical dreams. That wasn’t that weird right? It was just abnormally lucid and.. and she just thought she’d been awake.
June swallows the dryness in her mouth- not keen on thinking about what the contents of such a bizarre and emotionally charged dream must say about her psyche.
Her movement is stiff and tired as she drags herself to the washroom, desperately washing her face with cool water, as if temperature could somehow shock her back to fully believing in some version of reality. June winces. The sight of herself in the mirror should have come with a warning. She looked rough. Painfully red eyes stare back at her behind swollen lids- Her skin sallow and dull - looking just as exhausted as she felt.
As her eyes scam her reflection, her breath catches.
Two impossibly small punctures on her neck - nearly imperceptible, if not for the slight redness and bruised halo around them.
She watches her reflection as her lips draw into a tight line.
It… it had happened. It had all really happened.
The reality of the situation felt heavy- oddly enough, it was not the absurdity of the situation, but the implication that the emotions had all been real. The realization that she had gotten off on some twisted sort of psychological torment on a man she had known for what? All of twenty minutes??
June chews her lip, thoughts of his wide eyed expression filling her mind- those hushed pleas uttered between sobs. Her throat tightens.
You’re fucking vile
The echo of his words in her mind seem to tie her stomach in knots. She was, wasn’t she? She was fucking sick to have wanted … that.
God, what was she thinking? She didn’t even know him? Hell, he wasn’t even human. His existence didn’t even seem real- yet the desire that he incited was all too real- and all too potent.
A quiet part of her resents him. The way he’d played along- how he seemed to untangle some deeply knotted part of her- how he let her loose only to choke her with the slack. How could he make her feel that way, only to rip it away from beneath her.
June frowned at the way her logic twisted in her mind.
He’d been splayed out in her palm- restrained by her hand… so why did she feel like she’d been struck at her most vulnerable?
June groans. Her mind far too exhausted to try and decipher the reasons behind weird hypocritical thoughts. There was a heavy weight that seemed to reside in her chest, an impending sense of dread that loomed within her. Aedes was gone.
Aedes was gone because of her.
Because she was sick.
There was nothing left- no way to apologize, no way to make it right... Nothing to do except sit here and fester in her shame. She hated that it wasn’t just guilt gnawing at the edges of her mind. She was still so curious- and she resented it.
The same curiosity that cornered him- that had led to all of this.
And yet… she couldn’t rid herself of her nature.
Her mind begged for answers- Why was he so small? How could vampires exist? Who else knew? Could he turn into a bat? Did they congregate in … flocks? Colonies?
June flops to her bed- desperately wishing for the sleep that evaded her, but the soft morning light and whirring thoughts in her head make dozing off an impossible feat.
There was nothing she could do.
The finality of it was sickening. No apology, no reconciliation, no answers. All she was left with were questions and shame.
June sits up. If there was nothing she could do, she might as well make herself busy. Busy hands make for a quiet mind, or something like that.
----
Aedes leg shakes - irritation plain on his face.
She hadn’t slept.
She hadn’t slept one fucking minute.
An uneasiness crept over him as the room slowly became lit with the light of day. The dark of the night offered discretion- plentiful security within its shadows. The day however, was a different beast entirely.
The woman idles around her room, picking up various discarded items off the floor. He grimaced as she removed more and more of the potential cover leading toward the window. There was no way he’d be able to sneak off unnoticed in broad daylight.
Aedes felt the all too familiar ache of bloodlust rising in his chest. He hadn’t drank nearly enough. With nothing to occupy his hunger other than his thoughts, a familiar clarity rolled over him as his senses sharpened, instinct trying to direct him to the meal he was all too aware of.
Aedes swallows- mouth wet.
The beat of her heart pounds on steadily.
Thud after thud.
Continuous.
Just for one second he needed silence. A moment to think- to gather his thoughts. He bounced his leg, a steady tension mounting within him. Fuck. Each beat seemed to stop his thoughts in their track- drawing his focus away from any meaningful planning and back to her. The steady thrum of her heart a sirens song, begging him to forgo hiding. Beckoning him to dive into her. To drown in her. No. The last thing he wanted was to be anywhere near her again. He’d been hungry before- he could go hungry again.
Aedes grit his teeth.
Thump.
He would wait this out.
Thump.
Come nightfall he would leave.
Thump.
He would absolutely leave-
Thump.
He just needed to-
Thump.
To figure a way out-
Thump.
To get to the window-
Thump.
To feed-
His claws dug into his scalp- his hands desperate to hold himself together as her pulse throbbed in his ears. Loud. Everything was too loud. The steady rumble of her feet on the floor grates at his nerves. She meandered around the room, never staying still for more than a moment or two before moving on to another spot. Every thundering step sends a jolt through him- The world buzzing around him.
Why couldn’t she just fucking stand still?
He took a breath, his inhale shaky, and unfortunately deep. He caught her scent hanging thick in the air, her very essence an overwhelming caress. Like velvet, her scent thick and warm, teasing his desire- whispering promises of indulgence. She smells of sweet cream and soft spice- her skin of milk and honey. Of cardamom and comfort, of passionate glances and carnal desires.
Carnivorous desires.
He remembers how she tasted on his tongue, the allure of her scent paling in comparison to her taste. She was ambrosia on his lips and transcendent on his tongue. She tasted of life- of potential and passion- she tasted of more.
God he wanted more.
Needed more.
Aedes gnashed his teeth. He felt the world around him consuming him. Picking him apart- biting into him. His breaths came quickly- air feeling numb on his lips. Never enough. Never enough air. Never enough of her. The sound around him was chaos. Her blood seemed to roar in his ears. Her heels thundering on wood. Wood that trembled beneath him. It shook- he shook.
He shouldn’t be here.
Every breath was sugared with her. Drowning in her. His stomach twists- hunger gnawing away at his rationality. At his resolve. Her overwhelming presence devouring him from the inside. Mouth open he gasps- though not for air- for her. His mouth drips with desperation. Longing. Need. Aedes bites into the flesh of his hand- his teeth breaking the skin as easily as wading through water. The tang of his blood foul in his mouth. Wrong. Grotesque. An insult to the memory of her on his tongue. His jaw clenches- twitching against his will.
He bit harder. His face slick with blood and drool.
He needed to stop this.
To think-
To breathe.
He needed blood.
Her heart beat in tandem with his own. Calling him- begging him. Each pulse was a promise- of air. Of quiet. Of life.
A siren's song. A sweet harmony crying out between each and every pulse.
He froze.
A voice- both stunning and haunting cut through his senses. All else seems to fade- the rush of her blood, the beating of her heart, even his own desperate thoughts became white noise in the presence of her voice. Silken and opalescent- it carried air to his lungs on its warbling melody.
It beckoned him, yet nothing like the beating of her heart. This compulsion was all his own, not some ancient instinct clawing its way through his consciousness.
Head ducked, Aedes half crawled half walked to the edge of his cover under the dresser.
She sang of crumbling, of breaking down- stolen kisses and stolen glances.
I fall to pieces
Each time I see you again
His breath caught in his throat.
She was …. Beautiful.
Incredible in her immensity- Her entirety more akin to a landscape than a body- her beauty that of a sunset.
Warm.
Vast.
Untouchable.
He stood in the light of her song, feeling as though he was blinded by a second sun.
#MY MANS CANT CATCH A BREAK#the way he describes her makes me feral#Brother is smitten#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t prompts#g/t writing#Entowrites#Bite Me#JuneOc#AedesOC#Tiny vampire#tiny man#macro/micro#Promptober#Probptober2023
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Bite Me - Chapter 6
June pulling out that uno reverse card.
As a warning this chapter is heavier with both the suggestive nature as well the content itself. There is technically nothing explicit, though this is definitely a very emotionally and physically charged chapter.
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias
- - - -
Previous Chapter: Chapter 5
Next Chapter: Chapter 7
Word count: 1701
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Dehumanization, Suggestive, Fearplay, Mouthplay (biting), Minor injuries, Whump, Humiliation, Panic (onset panic attack), Conflicting feelings of consent
Aedes knew he was not meant to be touched like this- not in this way; Her teeth pressing into his side, her mouth covering from his shoulder to his navel. His heart pounds in his ears, screaming to him that he is in danger. He wants her to stop but- No, he doesn't want her to stop. Fear and ecstasy run rampant through his mind. Her touch thrills him. It was all encompassing. It was overwhelming. He never wants her to stop. He wants her to stop right this second.
The softness of her lips… the blunt pressure from her bite… the warmth of her breath… It held a depraved intimacy that seemed to stoak something deeply primal within him. As her teeth drag along his skin, he can't stop his body from shaking. It feels wrong- and so very good. He hisses, resisting all matter of instinct urging him to struggle against the massive fingers holding him in place.
He was drowning in foreign sensations and the emotional turmoil they wrought, struggling to find some semblance of control. If he could rein in every instinct, suppress every urge, suppress every fear-No. He wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t be afraid. Aedes wanted her to see that he was the one in control, not her. He was in this position because he liked it- he allowed it. She was indulging him.
He wanted respect.
She wanted a reaction.
She nips at the fabric of his shirt, ever so slowly pulling it up and exposing his midriff. He can’t control the way his abdomen twitches as it's uncovered- the muggy air from her breath bathing him in a strange and humid warmth. As her teeth make direct contact with his skin the initial sensation nearly sends him over the edge. His muscles tense involuntarily, unable to suppress their shudder. He draws in a sharp gasp before gritting his teeth in a desperate attempt to maintain some semblance of composure.
He not only watches, but feels as her lips curve into a grin. She liked this… far too much.
“Since you bit me,” Her voice is like velvet- a warm and gentle murmur, “It's only fair I get a turn…” Though spoken slow and soft, those words send a jolt through him, and he finds himself reeling from it- fixated on that teasing demeanor towards his feeding. Her words giving life to a small feeling of hope being kindled in his chest. Her teasing musings seemed… Almost casual? Was she just going to overlook that he’d fed on her? Was she okay with it??
Or was she just looking to get a rise out of him- toying with his desire?
Two could play at that game.
Hands still remaining begrudgingly restrained above his head, with his knee he tilts up her chin. His eyes lock onto hers, capturing her gaze in his unwavering stare. The closeness of her is beyond overwhelming, with her face extending past the entirety of his vision. Even still, he remains unflinching in his resolve, a declaration that he will not be so easily cowed by her teasing.
“Eager Human,” He chides, his words flowing like liquid silk, “You would think by now you would have had more than your fair share of a turn.” He revels in the way his words summon a rush of colour to her cheeks- a rush of blood just beneath her plush skin. Despite the adrenaline beating wild in his chest, he finds himself grinning as he adds, “Though I’ll let you continue to indulge your delusion.”
The sound that escapes her is music to his ears. A subtle whine… an involuntary whimper betraying her bold candor. Just a glance and some words and this behemoth crumbles before me… The feeling of power it gives him is nothing short of breathtaking- A high like no other.
He must have been a delusion, the way she indulged in him.
Fervent and passionate, her lips caressed the whole of his body, and her teeth felt as though they defiled it. They carved into him- both physically and metaphorically. With each kiss - each bite - she took from him; pieces of his pride, his resolve, his dignity, leaving him raw, bruised and lesser.
He had allowed this hadn’t he?
No- he squeezed his eyes shut. His breathing coming faster and faster. Each inhale feeling as though he couldn’t quite take in enough air. His instincts scream at him to fight back, to kick and snarl and scratch his way away, but logic tells him that's exactly what she wants- and some depraved part of his mind whispers that's exactly what you want.
The hazy scent of her was thick in the air. Sweet and lush. The remnants of his hunger twist in his chest, urging him to take his fill. He strains against her grip, restless in his renewed thirst, but there is no budging. He grits his teeth. This fucking position. He hated it. How small he felt- how little he could move, how he felt on display.
He was terrified.
And yet, the pleasure he felt was undeniable. He hears her heart pounding, and he takes no small pleasure in the knowledge that the sound is his doing. Aedes' mind whirls as conflicting feelings gnaw at him. There was no denying the rush he felt, but a panicked voice within him told him that he should- a sharp pang of humiliation screaming out against the thrill.
The way she moved her lips against his skin, eager and toying - She very clearly wanted a reaction from him and his pride is desperate to withhold it. Just what was she looking for? Did she want him to scream? To beg her to stop? To say he was scared?
He felt like he was drowning in longing. A deep longing to be in control, to escape this feeling of helplessness… and a longing for this woman to see him as more than just a… toy. Yet, he couldn't escape the painful embarrassment of his own helplessness- his pride reduced to a mere plaything for her. He couldn't meet her gaze. Not when he felt like… this.
The once warm and intoxicating touch now felt hot and suffocating. He wanted to hate it- hate the way it made him feel. He wanted it to stop…
But what if she didn't.
A twisted thought snakes it's way into his mind,
You'd like that, wouldn't you?
The only semblance of control he had was in pretending that he was allowing her to touch him like this. If he had to beg her to stop it would shatter the ruse he’d created for himself. He knew she was toying with him- looking for some kind of reaction. She wanted him to reach his breaking point.
He was powerless.
He was trapped.
His skin no longer tingles with excitement. Instead it burns, stinging and raw from whatever the fuck this shameful thing was. He strains against her grasp, feeling disgusted by the way his body shivers under her touch.
Pathetic.
He hates the way his body looks under her touch. The sheer size of her relative to himself. The sight of teeth nearly the size of his hands pressing into him- drawing small spots of bloodied freckles to the surface of his skin felt like it would be burned into his mind’s eye. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from the incarnadine trail left by her predatory embrace, and he grew queasy at the sight of his own blood.
He was fucking pathetic.
He could feel panic welling up in his chest, and tears in his eyes. He wanted to scream, to beg for this to be over, but his voice failed him, swallowed by the grotesque mix of his pride and fear constricting his chest. He flinched at every touch, trembling under her overwhelming magnitude. His words failed him, his body failed him- each breath coming in short shakey bursts, never seeming to gulp down enough air.
Pathetic.
The weight of the humiliation seemed to manifest in her bite, leaving him gasping for breath. How had he deluded himself into succumbing to desires that left him feeling so stripped… so emasculated?
He felt raw.
Tears finally spilled over, streaming down his face, as the swell of panic consumed him.
Turning his head towards her, his breath catches in his throat as he sees her eyes- already locked on his face. The intensity of her gaze is terrifying. His voice catches in his throat- a soft whimpering sound coming from him. A small puff of air. Half of a word hanging on his tongue.
Pathetic.
He meets her gaze silently begging her to stop, his shame seeming to snuff out his voice.
She smiles- her teeth still wrapped around his frame.
The sight is stunning- both horrifying and beautiful. The amalgamation of his internal turmoil is all at once far too much to contain. He overflows. Unable to suppress it, a single hushed word finally spills forth from his lips, repeated over and over between gasping whimpers.
“P-please.”
Please stop.
Please let me go.
Please continue.
To his horror, despite his fear, there's still a part of him that wants her not to stop- to be so completely overwhelmed by her that nothing else can occupy his mind. Aedes so desperately wanted to sever away that part of him, the way one would amputate an necrotic limb to stop the spread. This was wrong. He can’t grasp what he's feeling- he doesn’t want to. Nothing was making sense. All Aedes knows is he's never been so horrified in his life.
He has to get away.
Her eyes fall to his face and she pauses. As she pulls away from him, Aedes feels a rush of cool air against his dampened skin, the sensation stinging at the raw marks she had decorated him with. Her gaze is unnerving. Her eyes, wild and wide, seemed to consume him, devouring every detail yet sharing nothing of their own. It's predatory.
He couldn't bear it. The touch. The thoughts. The humiliation. It hurt. It hurt so much.
"Awe,” she coos, “is the little toy afraid I'll break him?"
Aedes unravels.
#Aedes being a chew toy for 2 chapters straight#One hell of a first meeting for these two freaks#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t community#entowrites#bite me#JuneOc#AedesOC#whump#cw suggestive#fearplay#cw fearplay#cw dehumization#tiny vampire#tiny man#size tumblr#macro/micro#giantess#GTS
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Bite Me - Chapter 8
Aedes struggles with conflicting feelings. Right on time for the Promptober prompts Quiver and Regret.
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias @soapysoap69
- - - -
Previous Chapter: Chapter 7
Next Chapter: Chapter 9
Word count: 2113
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Dehumanization, Minor injuries, Whump, Panic (onset panic attack), Conflicting feelings of consent
No.
No. No. No.
Why had he said that? He was in her hand for fuck’s sake. The thought of her fingers closing around him pushed itself into his mind. Despite him no longer being restrained, in her hands he was still just as helpless, no matter the position. He needed out. He needed to get away. The space was far too small- and yet far too open. He felt exposed in front of her… No, he had been- laid out on her palm, shaking and crying- he winced, pushing the thought from his mind. Pathetic. This was all so humiliating; His fear, his powerlessness, but above all it was the bitter and undeniable truth that he had enjoyed it that sickened him the most. The way it felt to be overwhelmed… overpow- he refused to finish his thought.
She did this to him
Made him like this
Made him like this
No. His mind winced at the thought, bucking against a reality he so desperately needed to deny. He did not like this. He refused.
Somewhere far above him, she spoke. Her voice a muffled rumble amidst the pounding of his heart and the frantic thoughts ringing in his ears.
How could he have liked any of this? He was in danger. She was dangerous- and what had he done? Provoke her?? She had him sat in the palm of her hand and he chose to insult her? Throat tightened. She could do whatever she wanted- she had made that clear.
You’d like that though, wouldn’t you?
His face twists, contorting with revulsion at the unwelcome thought. This was wrong. So very wrong. A sickening feeling of dread pours over him, mixing with every other agonized emotion that had bled into him- fear, anger, shame, disgust. The festering concoction wells up within him, filling him- overflowing. It clouds his vision, spilling forth as tears stream down his face. His hands shake. His legs shake. His voice shakes. Like a spool unraveled- he comes apart.
“Please.”
That fucking word.
That pitiful fucking word seemed to live on his tongue.
He chokes on it. Stifling another sob- and again- and again. He can’t stop himself- his throat tightening, his chest heaving. Each sob felt as though it was being pulled from him against his will, as if this woman was pulling on a thread and it was he himself coming undone at her fingertips.
A pressure, soft and light, traces slow circles at his side.
Aedes stiffens under her touch - the soft pad of her thumb grazing against his arm. Her touch was gentle, her skin warm against his own. There was a sickening temptation to lean into the touch- a yearning to let her pull at that thread, to come undone in her grasp. His gaze casts up to meet hers and he immediately wishes it hadn’t. His stomach drops. She stares at him, mossy green doe eyes brimming with concern- no.
Pity.
He loathes that look- the softness in her stare, the worry knit between her brows. He hates the sight of her gaze looking down at him…seeing him like… like this.
Undone.
Unraveled.
Small.
Pathetic.
Fuck this was so humiliating. His brain conjured up glimpses of the pitiful sight she must see- some small, frail, tear-stained creature trembling in her hand. God, why couldn’t he stop shaking?
"I-I... I'm so - I don't know why- I didn't mean to..." She can barely articulate herself. He winces as she coos to him, hushing him, apologizing. Her words strung as if they were salt in his wounded pride. Was he so frail- so fucking fragile- that he needed this? To be treated like some sort of scared animal?? He grit his teeth.
The look of pity on her face was almost worse than her teeth on his skin- at least then he could take some twisted pleasure in the act. He resented how she looked at him… like something needing to be coddled and comforted. Even more, he hated that he understood why she would think that.
He drew in a breath.
Everything felt numb. There was so much noise- so much emotion buzzing around in his head that the cacophony had just become a baseline. White noise that could be shoved away to the back of his mind. He needed quiet. He needed to pull himself together.
He needed to get away.
"Put me down." Aedes voice is cold and stern- a command. As strange as it is, looking at her crying face he has no doubt she’ll follow his demand.
A choked sound escapes her- but nonetheless, she nods, her cupped hands shaking as she lowers them.
The moment the ground is within a safe distance, he jumps.
There's something deeply cathartic about the sensation of his feet hitting solid ground- true to the word- it’s grounding. Stable. Certain. Predictable.
The feeling of solid ground under his boots alone makes him feel so much more in control- That is, until he looks back towards her.
When she’d held him at eye level she’d been big.
But now as he stood beneath her, she was utterly colossal.
Aedes watches as the human wipes tears from her eyes. There was something truly horrific about seeing emotions at that magnitude. Sadness had always seemed to shrink others- the emotion seemingly making others smaller in its wake. Yet, the sadness he witnessed at that scale felt volatile- desperate.
“Aedes, I-”
He runs.
The sound of her startled inhale only makes his legs pump faster as he races past her.
“Please.” She croaks, her hand reaching- not to grab, but instead to block his path.
Fuck.
Aedes doesn’t slow, instead he jumps, vaulting over her hand and continuing his sprint toward- what? Where could he run to? There was no time to scale back up toward the window. Could he fit under her door? If so, then what? He couldn’t out run her- he had to hide.
Her other hand comes down in an attempt to corral him back towards her. Aedes plants his right foot down, driving into a sharp left as he swerved to avoid colliding with her palm.
“Leave. Me. Alone.” Each word is harsh and sharp, spoken in staccato.
She freezes, and Aedes finds himself met with silence- nothing to be heard save the pounding of his feet and the pounding of his heart. After a brief pause, she speaks.
“I’m sorry.”
Though she had uttered countless apologies, this one felt poignant- weighing heavy in the air. There was no cooing, no hushing. Just… remorse. Before his mind can make sense in the tonal shift he hears the sound of her colossal form shifting as she stands. The sound makes his heart leap in his chest. The ground shudders with her steps, but to his shock not in pursuit. Instead the rumble of her footfalls grow farther away.
Against all better judgment, he looks back.
He’d taken for granted how much easier it was to look at her while she had been kneeling. The sight of her standing sent a chill through him so powerful it could nearly freeze him in place. She towered above him, the sheer difference in scale staging to behold. But no, it wasn’t her stature that made him falter- it was her actions. The woman walked away- back to her bed. Aedes watched as she sat on the edge of her bed, her head falling into her hands. Head bowed, she stared at the floor. She didn’t move, didn’t look at him, didn’t utter a word.
Not risking his chance at escape, Aedes head swivels, looking for an apt spot to hide until he can slip out the window once more. His eyes fall on her dresser-it's wooden legs holding it a couple inches off the ground.
He darts towards it, bending at the waist to scramble beneath it. Once under, Aedes doesn't relent, pushing further and further back until he's pressed against the wall. He wills his breathing steady as his ears adjust to the quiet.
He hears her in the distance- Her breaths, soft and shaky, and the faint beating of her heart. Aedes frowns. He hadn’t drank enough. The pulsating call was nowhere near as compelling, but it was there nonetheless. He knew he’d have to feed again soon. Aedes rubs his hands over his face, as if he could rub away the mounting stress he was facing.
A peculiar sound pulls him from his frustrated thoughts. Ears twitching, he listens - sharp, almost like tapping, repeated at sporadic intervals. The sound was vaguely familiar- like the first few drops of…rain…
His lips pull into a frown as realization settles upon him. Realization turns to annoyance, and annoyance to anger. Oh, sure. SHE was upset. I’m sure SHE felt awful. He sneered. What did SHE have to cry about?
He lets his back hit the wall and his body goes limp, knees nearly tucked against his chest as he slumps down, burdened with an exhaustion that only just barely began to rear its head.
Drip.
He stifles a groan. After this, after all of this, he had to wait for her to stop sniveling before he could make his escape? Just how long was she going to sit there and cry?
Drip.
He found his hands tracing the fearsome outline of where her teeth had been- the sting of raw skin burned under his touch.She was really crying? After all he had been through, she had the gaul to sit there and cry for - For what?? Herself?? Aedes let his head fall into his hands. He was tired. So very tired.
Drip.
With his head hung low, out of the corner of his eye, he can see it- the purple and red speckled bruises peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. The lines from where her teeth had dragged along his skin trailing outward. Even where his shirt hid them from his view, he felt them. The dull throb of swollen tissue, the sharp sting of raw skin- he felt her touch as if he was haunted by even the memory of her. Heat rose to his face- cheeks growing hot.
Drip.
Thoughts of her filled his mind. Her soft lips softly caressing the bare skin of his midsection- the tingle the touch had left. Her eyes- hungry and half lidded- boring into him as if she could devore him with her stare alone. Her gaze flickering about him as if to savor every detail. The way her breath hitched when he spoke - how she’d grown speechless at his words. The ghost of her touch teased him- aching in a way he most certainly shouldn’t.
Drip.
No- He did not fucking like this. The feeling of warmth pooling in his cheeks made him sick. Despite his revulsion, despite his anger there was no willing away the sickening manner in which his heart fluttered. His claws dug into the meat of his palms, and for the life of him he wished he had something he could throw. What was wrong with him? Why.. why did he feel… like this? Why couldn’t he rid himself of the thoughts of her mouth on him, or the taste of her blood on his lips. The sight of her flushed cheeks… He drew in a shaky breath, mind drawing back to the sight of her plump lips wrapping around his torso. The feeling of pain, warmth, and excitement. His heart beating wild in his chest, her breath rolling over him, washing him in the sweet scent of her.
Drip.
It was as through his insides writhed against him- his stomach in knots, his heart in his throat. He didn’t want to think about any of this- Fuck, he just wanted to leave- to move, to do anything but sit here and listen to her cry. How could he push all these fucking thoughts away if he had to just sit here and listen to her sobbing. He had liked it- he had fucking liked it. Her words echo in his mind- some strange little creature. He grits his teeth. Why couldn’t he just hate everything she had done? She called him a pest - a mosquito! She didn’t see him as a person. Even clothed it had felt like he’s been laid bare before her- stripped to something so disgustingly fragile. Her eyes had devoured him- taken in every little detail- and yet he was still just some strange little creature. His cheeks feel slick as his frustration boils over- the sound of his own tears mingling in with her own.
For the second time that night, Aedes unravels.
#Aedes aint havin Junes tears#Poor mans just hungry and set on a journey of self discover#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t prompts#g/t writing#whump#promptober 2023#promptober#aedesoc#juneoc#Bite Me#Entowrites
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Bite Me - Chapter 5
Flirting or Frightening? You be the judge. June and Aedes seem to be getting rather *cough* well acquainted with one another.
This chapter is a bit frisky, nothing overly explicit, a little more intimate than PG 13, but not quite NSFW.
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13 @naive-bias
- - - -
Previous Chapter: Chapter 4
Next Chapter: Chapter 6
Word count: 1451
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Suggestive, Fearplay, Mouthplay (biting) mild dehumanization (aware Aedes is not human, fixated on that concept)
The feeling of his heart beating wildly under her thumb was intoxicating. There was no other world that could aptly describe it. In her grasp was a man- or more accurately, a vampire- regardless of semantics, June was all too aware held an entire being within her hand. She felt drunk. This was all so surreal… surreal and undeniably intimate. Was this okay? He was actually letting her hold him… after all the fear and anger and distrust… there he was… just… in her hand. She should exercise some restraint shouldn't she? This… was enough? But what exactly was this?? Despite quite literally having him in the palm of her hand, with the way he was teasing her there was a strange unease that still hovered around the corners of her mind, as if she was the one wrapped around his finger.
His voice captivated her. She felt as though she hung off of every word. Have you planned what you’re going to do now that you’ve caught me? His surprisingly low voice seemed to echo in her mind. You say that, she thinks, yet why does it feel like I’m the one who’s caught?
That was an invitation right? He was goading her… wasn’t he?
Not one to be out done, she tightens her grip slightly,
"I seem to recall something about testing your structural integrity…" she muses, watching the man stiffen at her touch, yet soften at her words, "Why don't I test just how sturdy you are, little man." she says, her voice full of coy flirtation.
She watches his expression change, eyes glued on him and taking in every detail. He swallows, eyes wide and fixated on her. Her heart skips as she watches his strange pointed ears flicker- it was bizarre, yet oddly adorable. He fidgeted in her grasp though his movements weren’t frenzied like when she had first caught him, more so… uncomfortable, nervous? She for one, most certainly was.
She liked this.
She liked this far too much.
Now that he wasn’t snarling, she couldn't help but notice just how striking he was. Those strange long pointed ears peeking out from a tousled mess of velvety black hair- his features sharp and chiseled, looking as though they were carved from marble on his pale skin. The sight of him disheveled in the palm of her hand gave a whole new and literal meaning to having man under her thumb and she found herself indulging in the literal interpretation far more than she ought to.
Was this really okay? He had been so scared -
He tilts his head at her scrutiny, a faint smirk plays on his lips. In a jarringly casual manner, he stretches his arms back, resting his hands behind his head as if making himself comfortable. His stare was smug, cocky even, as he feigned a yawn. His teasing bordered on challenging, as if playing a strange and far too flirtatious game of chicken... Taunting her as if he knew she was enjoying his reactions more than she wanted to admit.
“Oh,” His eyes meet hers unflinchingly, “So you’re just gonna toy with me now, huh? Well, come on. I’m all yours.”
She breaks eye contact.
Oh he knew all right.
This absolutely was a challenge- and she had no plans of backing down.
"Am I toying with you?" She coos, choosing her words carefully, "I do like to play rough with my toys." She watches in rapt delight as his ears flatten. Slowly, she slides her fingers under his arms, holding him up by his underarms and letting his feet dangle.
His face flushes.
June felt like a shark sensing blood in the water. She bites her lip. The sight of a full grown -albeit very small- man dangling from her hands is oddly enticing. He was quiet for a moment, the brief pause felt like it was gripping at her heart, Had she gone too far? This was wrong wasn’t it? He was sc -
“Well then, play with me, my human.”
That smug little tease! She nearly growls at the excitement his invitation seems to bring forth, for a brief moment chasing away all of her lingering doubts. He likes this too…
June gives in.
Surprising even herself, she pulls him towards her, pressing her lips against his stomach. Her mind was alight, thoughts coming and going like fireworks- loud and quick. She kissed him- She was still kissing him! He flinches at the sudden action, a strangled sort of gasp escaping him, but doesnt push her away. His body was warm against her fingers- and firm against her lips. It was all so strange… She can't help but notice just how much of his body her lips can cover, or the feeling of his heart beating wildly against them. Was this really okay? He was a stranger… Hell- He wasn’t even human! He had snuck into her house- Drank her blood! And here she was just-
Her thoughts freeze as her gaze flicks up to his face.
Jaw clenched and head thrown back, his hands gripping firmly on her thumbs- the sight was mesmerizing. She watches, her eyes fixated on the shaky rise and fall of his chest as her lips graze his midsection- the way he shivered under her touch was thrilling… But it was his face that truly captivated her. He stared at her through half lidded eyes, gaze piercing in its intensity. A subtly flush danced across the pale skin of his cheeks, rising up to the tips of his ears- ears which folded back with her kisses. His lips twitched with every touch, drawing up as if he was wanting to bare his teeth, the faintest hint of a snarl playing across his expression. In that moment, he looked not only carnal- but truly carnivorous.
June releases a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It was all so much.
She inhales, struggling to regain her composure. Instead she catches his scent lingering on her inhale. Amberesque and nectarous, he smelt of lush fruit and warm spice- of saffron and tonka. He smelt of temptation- of the warm excitement of youth.
June swallowed. A strange mix of desire and unease sending a chill through her.
Humans did not smell like that.
She wills her hands steady as she kisses him, her actions somehow becoming more desperate. The hazy infatuation seemed to give way to a brief moment of clarity. She was far in over her head in something beyond her understanding. She didn’t feel in control. He was there, in her grasp, pressed against her lips… and yet she felt as if he had her in the palm of his hand. Her heart felt as though it crawled into her throat. She didn’t like that she was scared. She didn’t like that he could frighten her.
As she kisses, his claws dig into the flesh of her thumbs. Claws… her mind echos, Not human. She brushes the thought aside, and adjusts her hold of him, pulling one hand away to take his wrists between her thumb and forefinger. She pulls his wrists above his head, cradling his body with her free hand so he's laying in her palm; restrained and vulnerable.
June shivers-the sight of the pose undeniably lewd.
The sound of his breathing growing heavy makes her head spin- every gasp, every hitch of his breath…intoxicating didn't even begin to describe it. Between kisses she grins at the sensation of him squirming under the touch of her lips. What could he possibly be feeling? Was he scared? Part of her found herself hoping he was. She pushed that thought aside as quickly as it came. Through half lidded eyes, she risks another glance at him- her breath catching as he met her gaze. He seemed to like that, exhaling through gritted teeth- the sound hovering between a moan and a growl.
His teeth… The sight of those fangs made a shiver run down her neck… and an idea take form in her mind. An eye for an eye… a bite for a bite. As June continues to kiss his midriff, slowly she opens her mouth, carefully letting her teeth graze against his chest. Aedes shudders under her touch. This time- much to her surprise- she growls.
He yelps.
June pauses. The way he trembles in her hand stirs something in her. She draws back slowly, her eyes fixated on him. This time, Aedes does not meet her gaze. Instead, he looks away- face flushed. With his wrists still held in place above his head he looks so helpless.
She likes that.
Without meeting her gaze, he utters a single word.
"Please."
June Murphy unravels.
#June and Aedes ; all gas no brakes#June finds a tiny vampire in her room and is just like#“Are we bout to kiss?”#Girl same.#They have quite the ... interesting dynamic going on#cw suggestive#Entowrites#JuneOc#AedesOC#Bite Me#Tiny vampire#g/t#giant/tiny#G/t fearplay#g/t couple#g/t ocs#macro/micro
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Bite Me - Chapter 4
June asks some tough questions, meanwhile Aedes goes through quite the emotional rollercoaster.
Please note for this chapter all of the content warnings are super mild, so unless you really struggle with any of the topics its a very safe read.
Taglist: @smallsday @ratcatcher0325 @not-a-space-alien @bittykimmy13
- - - -
Previous Chapter: Chapter 3
Next Chapter: Chapter 5
Word count: 3010
CW: Mentions of blood, Adult language, Dehumanization, Fearplay
“Well Aedes,” June tries to keep her voice even, but she can feel herself growing frustrated at his dodging of her questions, “What were you doing in my bed?”
He bristles- for a brief moment his entire body goes rigid. A look of sheer panic crosses his face, and she watches as he clenches and unclenches his fists, fidgeting anxiously. To her dismay, June notices he’s shaking. With his back still firmly pressed against the wall, he slides down to a seated position, burying his head in his hands. June considers asking a second time, but before she can, Aedes speaks,
"I... I was…" he racks his brain, desperate for something, anything to say. He stares at his blood smeared hands, refusing to look up at her. "...feeding."
What?
The sense of unease that she had initially felt when encountering him returned all at once.
The snarling.
The smear of blood on his lips- Her blood.
Her hand slowly and shakily reaches up towards her neck. He… he bit her? She feels the colour drain from her face… feeding… June feels nauseous. Had he-
“On me?” She says, her voice feeling hollow. He flinches at her words, ears drawing back. He says nothing. Remaining seated with his head in his hands. She sees his body hitch. His first words echo in June’s mind.
Please don't hurt me
Was this why he’d been so afraid?
“Like… b-blood… to drink?” June stammers. For a moment, he continues his silence, the only sound coming from his heavy breathing.
"...Yes." His voice, worn down by fear, comes forth in a raspy whisper. "I- I need blood." He avoids her gaze. June feels her mind buck against the absurdity of the word that slips into her mind, yet she says it aloud regardless,
“Like... a vampire?”
His head slowly raises to look at her, and for a moment he only stares, not understanding the word at first. As some kind of realization slowly sets in, a tiny bit of surprise flashes across his face as he processes the word. Slowly, he nods again.
"Yes. A vampire. That's... what I am." The word seems to hang heavy in the air between them, suspended in time. Without warning, the woman breaks the silence- erupting with… laughter??
Why was she laughing? What about this was funny to her?
He scowls.
June can't help but laugh at the sight of his disdain. His serious expression contrasting the absurdity of this whole situation.
This… this is crazy.
"W-What? What's so..." Aedes sputters, his sentence trailing off as June's laughing only increases. Between gasping breaths, June attempts to stifle her chuckles.
"Of all the things you could have told me…" June trails off, unable to contain her giggling, “A vampire??"
Aedes stares at her dumbfounded. His silence seems to sober her from her amusement, finally managing to contain her laughter.
"You- you're really serious?"
He meets her stare with his own, brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and what June could only assume was offense. She bit her lip. He certainly looked serious. Even though she’s been the one to say it, part of her had expected him to scoff- to deny it- to offer some sort of explanation…
"I'm sorry. I just- I didn't think vampires were so…um" she laughs again, however this time nervously, "small…"
Aedes feels as scowl as it carves its way across his face. It was humiliating. The very thing that was the cause for so much fear to him was just… funny to her. His means of survival… his size… Resentment seemed to brew under his skin. The thought of being so small yet being tied to a being so much like him yet so much more just to survive was a cruel twist of nature. He grit his teeth.
Seeming to sense his offense, the colossal woman fruitlessly tries to wipe the grin from her face. He sighed. This felt almost degrading… Humiliating as it was, teasing at his expense was a far better alternative than being seen as some sort of leeching pest. Swallowing his pride, he wills himself to join in the levity.
“So what?" He asks, trying to keep his voice light, "Are you laughing at my height or my…. profession?”
"Both or... Neither? I didn't expect to find a little man today, and I certainly didn't expect him to be a vampire!" She chuckles, shaking her head. Her words have a strange effect on him. Being called a little man feels patronizing. He knows he's small. So does she. There was no need to point it out. But… she'd called him a man- sure, a little man… but still, a man…
In the midst of his non response, she leans closer. He feels himself tense, but doesn't move.
"I mean… this is ... pretty fucking wild."
He eyes her carefully as she leans closer, steeling himself at her approach.
“What are you doing?” He asks, though he can guess.
She's curious he tells himself, almost for his own reassurance. Her gaze feels heavy. Despite her keeping her hands to herself, he feels the weight of her gaze as if he's firmly in her grasp. Her enormity was staggering. Despite what, in theory, was quite the distance between them, her closeness felt invasive- far too intimate at her size. As she leans in, he once again sees his own reflection in her eyes…
He looks… so very small.
Before he can voice his grievances at her closeness, she seems to catch herself; suddenly pulling back, face flushed a deep red. He blinks in disbelief. Had he… had he made her blush?
"I - " for a moment her eyes no longer take him in as a whole and seem to focus directly on his gaze, before quickly looking away, "Sorry."
He feels his breath rush out, tension melting away with a genuine chuckle. There was something at play here, something so familiar yet so foreign in this bizarre setting. The flush on her cheeks, her fleeting gaze…
Fuck it.
“Do you want to take another look?” The ease in his voice surprises him.
Her eyes are back on him in a flash; eager and excited. She nods, and her cheeks deepen even more red.
"Can I -uh.. can I touch you?"
Her question catches him off guard and he hesitates before answering. His instinct is to immediately deny her request, but… He was not expecting the human to ask in the first place. She clearly didn't have to ask- if she wanted to, she could have done so. She wanted his permission. Aedes finds himself wanting to reward this behavior with the goal of reinforcing it. It's simply training a desirable behavior. Nothing more. After a moment, he nods.
“Fine. You may touch me.”
He watches as her eyes widen slightly, but says nothing. As she reaches he finds himself taken aback by the paradoxical sight of her hands shaking…
Was she that excited?
Or was she that nervous?
He most certainly was. His heart pounded against his ribs at her approach, begging for him to run. With no small effort, he resisted the urge, rationalizing that a pest, not a man, would run from an incoming hand.
More gently than he would have thought it possible, she took his wrist between her thumb and forefinger, eyes fixated on his hands. He avoided looking at her face. Not only her touch, but her scrutiny made his skin crawl. Instead he found himself staring at her fingers. Her nails almost resembled his own clawed fingers, and he found their glossy pink colour surprisingly pretty, like dew on rose petals. He watched in awe at the sheer difference in size as she placed the pad of her index finger under his palm. She grazed her thumb over the top of his hand, prompting a shiver to run down his spine. He swallowed. His feeding had been cut short, and the remnants of his hunger left her smelling so dangerously good to him. A sweet and creamy scent… almost comforting.
To his great surprise, he finds his muscles relaxing.
Well, this was unexpected.
He clears his throat.
"Are you satisfied?"
She smiles, and to his horror, his heart flutters.
"Not quite yet…" she whispers, a playful lilt in the hushed rasp of her voice; teasing, though not like before. This was warmer. Her words seem to linger in the air as her finger tip traces a delicate path up the length of his arm, her touch gentle and deliberate. He… he hadn’t anticipated actually enjoying her touch, or the way it seemed to be awakening sensations he had long forgotten. Never in his adult life has he been touched this tenderly. Her soft caress ignites something within him, as if a current surged beneath the traces of her fingertips. It felt… almost… good.
He casts his gaze upwards, suppressing a flinch at the sheer closeness of her colossal form.
“And what exactly are you feeling for?” He asks, his smirk down right audible in his tone.
He watches in awe as her face flushes again. Was - was this actually happening? Despite his fear, those reactions fed into a growing curiosity toward this woman. His mind bucked against the thought. This… is dangerous isn't it? Stupid even…And yet…
He liked it. A lot.
She cleared her throat, a bashful smile crossing her lips.
"You're uh-" she gives an awkward chuckle, "pretty sturdy."
There's a momentary pause as his brain registers her words.
He laughs. The sound comes forth full and hearty, surprisingly genuine to his ears.
"What?" He scoffs, "Are you testing my structural integrity?"
Above him, yet oh so close, she stares down at him, face pink as can be. His breath hitches. The sight of teeth softly pressing into the plush flesh of her lip stirs something in his chest, and he feels heat rush to his ears.
His attention is pulled away from her face as she moves her hand. Her index finger lazily tracing up his arm and onto his chest. He swallows.
Could she feel his heart race?
Her finger came to rest at the center of his chest. At the pause in movement, he once again cast his gaze upwards to her and was met by a coy smile.
Without warning, she pushed.
He couldn't help but grunt at the unexpected increase in force. Her touch, moments ago soft and tender, held a newfound firmness as she pressed her finger tip into him. He stood, unmoving, unsure of what was happening. He knew the uncertainty should have been terrifying, and maybe in a way, it was, yet there was an undeniable thrill in not knowing. There was a playfulness to her touch, a teasing curiosity he couldn’t quite tell if it was innocent in nature. Could she tell what her touch was doing for him?
"What are you doing?"
Her face feigns an innocent expression.
"Oh? I'm just testing your-what was it?" she pauses, pretending to search for the words,"structural integrity." She nearly purrs the words. Her voice smooth and thick, like honey; sweet and silky - like her blood. If he closes his eyes he can nearly taste her on his-
She pushes him again.
He falls back, face hot. Before he can get up her finger finds that familiar spot in the center of his chest. There's no way she can't feel his heart now. Her touch and the beating of his heart is all he can feel. Her finger tip rises up from his chest, tracing his neck and coming to rest under his chin. At his side, he can feel his hands shake as heat fills his face, with even the tips of his ears burning. The air feels too thin, and she all at once feels far to close, and much too far. There's a strange tension between them as he speaks,
“And… what exactly are you doing now?” He struggles to keep his voice even, desperate to maintain control of his reaction if nothing else.
She leans in, her face consuming the entirety of his field of vision.
"I want to see your face."
For a brief moment, he swears his heart stops. The intensity of her gaze feels overwhelming- nerve racking. His mind feels as if it's racing and blank simultaneously; The only constant being the woman… the human woman.
"Well" He rasps, his voice far more forced than he would have anticipated, "do you like what you see?" He raises his head, craning his neck to give her a full view of himself. He feels a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
It's as if his words break an illusion- she tenses, and pulls back. His grin feels much less forced as he watches her reaction, relishing in the power his words seem to garner. Yet a persistent feeling of longing sours the small victory; A longing to be overwhelmed again by her closeness… by her touch.
She fidgets with her hand as he speaks, and he finds himself imagining her fidgeting with him instead. Wait- he blinks the thoughts away, repulsed by the idea… Enticed by the idea.
"Well, you're a vampire, right?" He notices, to his dismay, she won't meet his eyes, "but you're so, um, small." Thanks. "... I wanted a closer look at um- your teeth."
He found himself intrigued by the eb and flow of her emotions; she'd essentially just been fondling him, yet suddenly now she was acting coy? Because of a few choice words? He reveled in how her demeanor shifted with his words, how her eyes darted away from his, how her cheeks dawned near permanent blush. She, a creature of such immensity, hung captive to his charm, his wit- as if his will superseded the physical reality. Without the weight of her hand to stop him, he sits up.
“I’d be happy to show you my teeth,” getting to his feet he makes a show of brushing himself off, “But first,” he turns his gaze towards her, eyebrows raised and a whisper of a smirk on his lips, “you’ll have to come just a little bit closer.”
He watches with delight as her eyes widen at his words. He was making her nervous. He likes that. Seeing her cheeks flush, he realizes he likes that even more. And when she listens to his request? He finds himself liking that the most. She leans in, closing what little space was between them, but instead of looming over him she lowers herself. Where once she was resting on her elbows, now she lowered herself so her chin rested on her hands, nearly flat on the ground.
She looked up at him.
Oh.
Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?
The way her eyes, bright green and innocent, looked up at him through her lashes suggested she definitely knew.
“Can… I see your teeth?” She’s so close he feels her warm breath on his legs as she asks again. He refrains from biting his lip. Instead, he imagines biting hers.
“Closer.” He repeats. There was nothing between them, save air and opportunity, and the scent of the blood still on her neck was quickly taking his breath away. She’d come closer and he’d drop to his knees and show his teeth far more intimately than she’d have anticpated; sinking them into the soft flesh of her lips-
The sound of her voice pulls him from his fantasy,
“Closer, huh?”
She draws nearer, closing what little gap still remained between them- so close her nose traces up his midsection to his chest. He steps back, and she rises, once again resting on her elbows, albeit this time, directly overtop of him.
“May I please see your teeth now?”
Looking up at her like this- he can’t deny the obvious intimidation he feels, and it's almost as if he doesn’t want to. Why would he ever deny himself of anything to do with her? The irony isn’t lost on him that what seemed like just moments ago he was so opposed to being seen as something to had- to being possessed, yet now he found himself wishing desperately to be hers. If she wanted to see his teeth, he’d gladly show her.
“I believe you may.” He says, his tone tauntingly flirtatious.
He smiles, lips parting to a wide grin. To his own shock, he closes his eyes. Was… was he beginning to trust her? Attraction was one thing. He was a man with needs, and she was a beautiful woman… a very large and imposing woman, but a woman nonetheless- but trust? That was a whole other beast. With his eyes closed, his skin bristles and tingles with each of her breaths washing over him. He feels his heart beating wildly, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He trails his tongue over his teeth and his ears twitch at her gasp.
“You… you really are a vampire…” she whispers, her voice laden with disbelief, “They’re so… sharp...”
He feels… smug? Confident? He can’t quite place the emotion, but he sure as Hell knows the source.
“Oh?” he muses, opening his eyes, “Do I scare you?”
She answers with a mischievous grin- a grin that a small part of his brain is screaming to run from. His heart nearly jumps into his throat as she reaches for him, her fingers lacing around his torso. He suppresses a yelp as she lifts him, slowly and carefully, off the ground and towards her face.
“I think a more appropriate question would be,” she begins, her voice a sultry purr “Do I scare you?”
Yes.
Fear courses through his veins as his mind spits out fragments of thoughts.
Caught.
Helpless.
Vulnerable.
Intimate.
He focuses on that last one. The softness of her skin. The wild energy in her gaze. The sweet and heavy scent of her.
She was terrifying.
“That depends,” he lies, “Have you planned what you’re going to do to me now that you’ve caught me?”
#OOooOOOoo#These two are F R E A K S#Emotional whiplash#Talk about touch starved#g/t#giant/tiny#Flirty fearplay#g/t fearplay#Entowrites#juneoc#Aedesoc#G/t writing#tiny vampire#tiny man#Macro/micro#size difference#Bite Me
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