Fuck An Unaware Situation I Love When The Tiny Thinks Its An Unaware Situation Only To Realize The Giant

fuck an unaware situation i love when the tiny thinks it’s an unaware situation only to realize the giant is hyper aware of exactly where they are and what they’re doing. every single move has been calculated. they have never once lost track of them through this entire encounter. it’s both terrifying to be so known—tracked—and hot to be so closely moderated, looked after, toyed with, what have you

macro/micro, human woman / tiny man, consensual, frank discussion of rape, abuse, and trauma

! This writing is non-pornographic, but it does not belong on all-ages blogs !

A tiny man's friend convinces him to try a date with a human, but his past gets in the way.

Her finger trailed down his torso to his boxers and continued its slow, slow pace as she peeled them down his thigh, and Howie noted pleasantly that he was actually doing pretty good. He’d been doing pretty good this whole time. Had a normal conversation over dinner sitting on top of her dinner table, rolled with the natural flirtation, didn’t even quiver when he got into her hand- Chris said she was surprised that was his first date with a human, and he graciously took the compliment. She wasn’t technically wrong.

This was decidedly not Chris’s first rodeo. He could’ve known that just from the way she laid on her bed right now- on her stomach (big enough that it just hung over her pelvis, he liked that), big brown tits pressed between her upper arms, head still low enough that he didn’t have to hurt his neck to make eye contact. Exciting and overpowering, but somehow not intimidating. It was kind of interesting to see all the ways something so simple was different with someone who actually cared about how he was doing. He’d interacted with “nice humans” in the past few years, sure, but never this close up, and never with all their clothes off. 

She watched him warmly with dark eyes and sucked on her lower lip as she slipped his last bit of clothing off his foot. Howie tussled his thick hair and let his curls fall over one eye. He tried a little posing himself as well- sat on his knees, legs spread, chest puffed out to show off the new tats. “Like what you see?” he asked in a mock sultry.

“Oh, I so like what I see.” She giggled. “I am so excited to look all these over up close.” Her pointer finger reached out and stroked along his arm, following a trail of plants and ritual symbols. He flushed.

“So,” she said. “What do you wanna do?”

He started and frowned. “Um. What do I wanna do?”

“Yeah! It’s your first time, you pick first.”

“Oh. Um…” It was like his brain was shutting down. “Well. I don’t really…”

“Oh, come on. You’ve gotta have some ideas.”

A memory flashed in his mind and he tried to shake it out. 

“You… don’t have any ideas?”

“No, no, that’s not-” Howie closed his eyes tight and suddenly his brain was spinning through a rapid-fire slideshow, indexing everything he’d been forced to do, every unique new act, every body part… “Fuck,” he hissed. 

“Howie?” she whispered, almost afraid. 

His eyes shot open and he stared up at her. He forced a laugh. “S-sorry, I don’t kn- sorry, this shouldn’t have… fuck.” God, he was starting to hyperventilate.

“Woah,” she said. “Hey, we’re pausing the situation.” He gulped and nodded. “Just breathe.”

He took slow, shaky breathes and pulled his knees in. Half of him wanted Chris to grab him, gently put some pressure on his chest, his other half knew that he’d start vomiting if she did. Maybe he was down from the ledge by now anyways. He was pretty sure. The panic attacks were weekly at first, but he hadn’t gotten that close in months.

He attempted talking again. “I-I’m sorry, I can’t, I don’t know- I’m sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologize! Do you wanna talk about it, or-”

His mental resistance snapped, and the words came spilling out faster than he could think them. “Well, Mira set this date up because I’m always bitching to her about my goddamn hookups because I’m-I’m with these wonderful girls and I can’t cum. I can’t cum unless I think about humans, because like five years ago I got kidnapped and they used some weird drug on me to mind control me or whatever and it reconditioned my whole brain and it was only for a month but now I guess I’m stuck like this, and she thought I should just give up and fuck a human already and now I guess I can’t even do that because I’m too fucking traumatized!” He threw his hands up in some sort of surrender, then covered his face and immediately got to regretting.

“Oh… Howie, that’s horrible.”

“It’s just- it’s whatever. I’m sorry.”

Howie grabbed his boxers and frantically pulled them back on instead of trying to meet her eyes. Jesus Christ, the shame… How could it be this much worse telling a human? It felt so wrong seeking pity from a human after all that conditioning to just be a mindless toy, and then he felt horrible for feeling like he was less than her, and then he felt horrible for making her feel bad…

She cut off his thoughts. “Can I tell you something, then?”

He eyed her suspiciously. She was quieter, her eyes only made his for a second and then went down to the lilac bedsheets, she fidgeted with her fingers in front of her… genuinely nervous. He nodded.

“I, um… I actually stopped fucking humans ‘cause I got abused.”

“Oh.” He looked down at his feet. “Well, I guess I get that. Not like we can do anything to you.”

“No, no…” She opened her mouth, then closed it, then huffed. “It’s not- you guys are just nicer! My first time, I was sucking this guy’s dick and he stopped me and he said I seemed off and-and then I had a total meltdown! And I totally blue balled him and he was chill about it.”

Howie scoffed. “What else was he gonna do? Get mad at you for being traumatized?”

“Humans do that literally all the time.”

“What?”

“Human guys are, like, insane.”

He giggled and she beamed back. “Jesus…” he muttered. “Hell of a low bar.”

“No kidding. Yeah, have as many panic attacks as you want.” Chris reached out to him, giving him plenty of time to see her coming, and brushed his hair out of his face. He flipped it back over and she snickered. “Hey, tell me if I’m being pushy… was there a particular reason you freaked out?”

Howie shrugged. “They didn’t, um… I guess I wasn’t ready for you to ask me what I wanted to do. They never really gave me a choice.” She nodded and in a moment, fuck, the words were spilling out again. “Honestly, I kind of hoped it would be the same as when I got kidnapped.” He clapped his hands over his mouth and looked up to her with wide eyes. “I mean-” he eked out. “That’s weird. Fuck, that’s weird.”

“Howie, that’s not that weird.”

“What, like I wanna get raped again? That’s stupid.”

“Howie!” He shut up. “It’s not that weird. And it doesn’t mean- well, it doesn’t mean anything.” She frowned. “We’re not doing anything else today, but… I don’t think you’re too traumatized to fuck a human. If you still want to.”

He shrugged. 

“We could go really slow? And you could initiate everything, or if you wanted I could propose stuff and you could veto?”

“This whole thing is starting to feel like a lot of work for you.”

“Whatever. I owe your whole species. Hey.” She stroked his face with her thumb. He reached up to hold it there. “I can take no for an answer. But I already really like you. A bunch of sexless dates wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

He smiled. “Thanks. How about same time next week?”

Chris nodded. “No hard feelings if you ghost. Genuinely.”

“I’m not gonna.”

little mouse scraps b4 bed (ooolllldddd)

During a boring chunk of his day, Mateo, feeling very much like a pervert, pulled up an article on borrower abuse. He got to the second paragraph, where it described an amputation video, before he felt nauseous and rapidly closed the page. He had imagined his borrower with a razor blade poised over his shoulder, wriggling and whimpering. So tiny and helpless. How could anyone want that? 

As if he wasn’t just getting off on the poor guy’s terror. But God it was sexier that he was into it… He prayed that Farrow would come back. His fantasies were already so varied. Infinite possibilities. But more than anything, he thought about that adorable, anxious face. His fear, and his ecstasy, and his relaxation. 

It was hard to get enough to eat at that size, wasn’t it? He thought he’d heard that somewhere.

Mateo could… feed him. Anything he wanted. Buy him anything, too. Maybe he’d reject the charity. But maybe not. If he was smart about it.

What kinds of things would Farrow be unable to refuse?

Google said… They got fruit and veg from foraging. Well, that apple tree out front was ripe. Was that too far for him? They ate plenty of nuts and seeds… and hunted rodents and insects! Ugh! God! 

…Would he be better off as a pet?

No, no, not right. 

----

“Farrow!” he gasped. Mateo stood to move towards his desk, but a few feet away, Farrow put up a hand. Mateo stopped dead and slowly, cautiously, got down on his knees. Trying his best to play cool, but he couldn’t hide his glowing, relieved smile. “I’m really happy to see you again.” Because the poor little borrower seemed to need all the reassurance he could get. 

Farrow nodded without returning the sentiment. Oddball, wasn’t he? “I-I need to know you won’t try to capture me.” 

“No. Never.”

“So if I have my weapons on me, I get to keep them.”

Yeah, he had a belt on with little holsters. Mateo was curious about those weapons, but if Farrow was this anxious, it probably wasn’t the best time to ask. He nodded.

“And you don’t get to know where any of my entrances are. And no trying to contact me. No- no calling my name, or leaving me messages. When we’re not together, you have to act like you don’t know I’m here.” Farrow took a moment, seemingly to calm himself. “And I get to choose the time and place.”

Farrow looked at him nervously, and Mateo realized that was the end of his demand list, and subsequently realized that he would have gladly agreed to a dozen more stipulations. “Yeah,” he said. “Absolutely. When and where?”

the giant: i promise i’m friendly. please don’t be scared, i won’t hurt you <3

the tiny:

mostly hanging around a tiny while they’re at or above waist height (usually either on counter tops/building roofs or your person) + finally interacting on the same ground level for either the first time or one of the firsts since meeting and ho-ly. shit. they are… ‘tiny’ sure fails to describe it, doesn’t it? they’re tiny in your hand, close to your face, on a shoulder or in a pocket—below the torso? on the ground? by your feet? with all this towering distance between you but they’re right there?

they try to describe their perspective but ‘walking building’ doesn’t really capture it. you’re already a walking building. before, they would have to crane their neck up to look at you, now? down on the ground, they stumble and fall if they try to look higher than your hips. any sort of crouching or leaning over to get a better look at them triggers a whole new wave of instincts to get away from the gargantuan, moving thing—creature—person.

they’d always known, of course, logically, that there was this much of you, and you always knew there was this little of them, but the difference between knowing and seeing, hearing—feeling— is astronomical.

You want an autistic giant until he’s rambling about his hyperfixation on Micro Torture Methods and absentmindedly squeezing you like a stress ball. /j

adn um where can i find this autistic giant please ? 🥵😵‍💫🥴