G/T One-Shots

Honeymoon

-I have pretty much never written from a giant pov because it's not my thing but I just gotta this time so here's a mix of g/t and wife-loving himbos-

-slight nsfw warning, just a p/rn mention at the very end. welcome to adulthood-

I was warned about the honeymoon phase ending, but never believed them. My wife and I were different. We got along like best friends and soulmates, and almost never fought. Everyone cites "the straw that broke the camel's back" being the start of a tumultuous marriage, but I'd say our hay bale was in tact after a good five years.

The couch creaks slightly as she nuzzles into the crook of my arm. I subconsciously wrap my arm around her in response, embracing her warmth.

"This one reminds me of Sniffles," Gabby tells me, and I look up from my phone to see the cat's ears perked in our direction. Looking back at the screen, the TikTok of a cat jumping toward a table only to miss strikes an uncanny resemblance to the misguided confidence of our cat. I chuckle in agreement.

Deciding we wouldn't give her sufficient attention, Sniffles relaxes her ears again and turns her head away from us, sneezing. She sure likes to live up to her name.

"Bless you, Sniffles~" we say in slow unison, not unlike elementary school children thanking a presenter after an assembly.

I swipe up to view the next video, as Gabby hoists herself up from her position against me. "I'm getting water, you want any?"

"Yeah, if you would. Love you," I coo, knowing she'll be back in under a minute.

"Love you too," she replies, walking into the kitchen.

I turn off my phone and rest it on my chest with a hand over it, closing my eyes and smiling. I must be the luckiest man in the world. She's beautiful, she's intelligent, she's funnier than I could ever hope to be, and-

A shrill screech and a crash sound from the next room. Jumping with a start, I bolt into the kitchen, darting my eyes around in hopes of meeting my wife's. She's nowhere to be found.

"Gabby?" I ask the empty room, waiting for the walls to give me an answer. I pace around the table, looking up and down. "Babe?" I call louder. She couldn't have left, the only door in the room leads to the living room- I would've seen her.

My thoughts are interrupted by a cold and uncomfortable sensation from below. Looking down to my socks, I discover they're soaking up water from the floor. The liquid pools around the shattered white porcelain of the "Mr." mug we got as a wedding gift. My eyes drift up again. The matching "Mrs." mug sits empty on the counter.

"Oh, no..." I mutter, squatting down to the floor to carefully pick up the pieces. As my hand extends toward a large shard, a quiet shriek catches me off guard from about a foot away, underneath the lower cabinets. I freeze, channeling all my attention to the source of the noise. Not letting my eyes leave the area, I slowly place the broken mug pieces on the counter and lower myself back down to the floor. First fingertips, then elbows, then shoulders and head.

Sat cross-legged underneath the cabinets is my beautiful, intelligent, funnier-than-me wife, no bigger than a golfball in her curled up state. Her hands are clamped over her mouth as she sobs, wide eyes glued on mine. My heart sinks.

"Babe, what happened?" I murmur, assuming my voice could hurt her ears. A twinge of guilt immediately hits me, knowing that stomping around and calling out her name must've scared her half to death.

Her hands lower from her face, but she continues to hyperventilate. "Holden... I was get... getting us water, and, and-" a staggered inhale interrupts her. "And I... I sud-dudenly had this ki... killer headache," she tries to explain through sobs and hiccups. "Then everything was big and you came in and you're big and I got scared and you're still scaring me and I don't know what happened but I broke the cup and-"

"Gabby, take deep breaths," I stop her, and she begins taking shaky breaths, letting sobs escape here and there. "I'm sorry this happened and I'm sorry I'm still scary, I'll do whatever you need to make this easier but right now we need to calm you down."

She pauses, trying to calm down before giving her first request.

"Back up," she chokes out. "Please." The request shoots right into my heart, but I comply. I have to remind myself that she still loves me and we're okay, she's only scared because I'm much bigger than her now.

"Is this okay?" I ask softly.

"It's better," she replies half-heartedly, her breathing starting to slow as she calms down. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" I ask.

"I broke the cup and now you have to deal with me being tiny and you never got your water and oh my god I'm so small," she cuts herself off from her half-sensical rant.

"Babe," I smile, doing my best to swallow my own worries. "The water and the cup don't matter. What matters is you're okay. You know I still love you, even if you're two inches tall or two meters tall."

"You don't know how tall a meter is," she laughs weakly.

"It's like a mile, right?"

"I'd call you a dumbass if you couldn't kill me right now," a smile creeps up on her face, but she's still shaking.

"I'm six-one and you're what, five-three?" I ask, cocking my head. "Well, right now you're like zero-three, but even when you were a normal height I had a lot on you and still didn't kill you. Why would I change my mind now?"

She doesn't reply.

"Exactly, I wouldn't," I answer for her. "This is extremely weird, but this isn't the first quirk of yours I've learned to live with. We can work through this together. Can't we, Gab?"

"My sudoku phase and rock collection were quirks. Is this really a "quirk" you can handle?" she asks, barely audible. "I don't know if I can handle it."

"Well, we both have to learn to handle it. There could be positives to this!"

She looks unconvinced at first, but smirks and meets my eyes again. "I'm definitely cuter now," she says smugly, stepping out from under the cabinet.

"You were always cute but sure, and we'll spend less on water and food," I raise my brows.

"This is great for the economy." She reveals her full self to me, the whole finger-length of her. Gorgeous as ever.

"What are you gonna tell your boss?" I ask, feeling anxiety creep up on me again.

"Fuck that job," she replies, walking toward me. "This size difference would make excellent porn." She giggles at my bewildered look. "I'm kidding~"

"That makes one of us," I smirk, getting my head down to her level and pursing my lips out for a kiss. She responds the best she can, with a small peck to my bottom lip.

"I guess we have no issues then?" My lovely, tiny-little wife asks me, but before I can answer, we both hear a sneeze from the room over.

"... one issue. We'll keep you above ground," I remark.