(gentle, MILF, cuddling, mouth play)

Pod clamped his eyes shut and forced his hands over his ears, blocking out or otherwise dulling his senses. He shivered, doubled over inside his bellowing grey shirt in the form of a ball, propped up against the towering leg of a table. He was filled with fear, a revolting kind of fear, the kind that both disturbed and panicked him. However, Pod was a tiny, and a particularly craven one at that, he was accustomed to experiences like these. He knew that if he simply retreated into his own private world of dark silence, he could contain himself until it was gone.

There were a few quaking thuds in his direction, muffled by the carpet, "I got it! The spider's gone," came the words he had been praying for, and in the angelic notes of Natasha's voice; who was peeking down at the tiny shivering thing with a wide smile.

Pod instantly came unwrapped from his ball, running the small distance to Natasha's nylon clad feet and jumping on, hugging in thanks. He nuzzled into the dark strands and held it tight like an affection animal. He only loosened his grasp on the bridge of her foot when he felt wide fingers pinch below his arms and on his waist, there to receive and deliver him to her pillowy hands. She moved her hand up to her cheek and held it close, allowing him to, again, latch on in appreciation. The tiny boy spread his arms wide and kissed into her expansive cheek repeatedly, "Thank you thank you thank you thank you!" he called in-between kisses; he was doing everything to show his gratitude. All tinies hated spiders, both as competitors and even predators, but Pod hated spiders more than most; they were vile, hairy beasts that made his stomach turn. It was unfortunate that he was both arachnophobic and a tiny.

Natasha giggled at his reaction, "Awww, stop, you'll make me WANT spiders to show up," she joked, rubbing a finger along his back. "Come on, sit on my shoulder and calm down, no more spiders," Natasha soothed and gently slid him onto her shoulder, covered by a thin piece of fabric. He lay on his back, tucking his head by her smooth neck and looking up at the hair dangling around her ear.

Pod was the luckiest tiny on Earth it seemed, had nature run its course he knew likely wouldn't have made it very long away from his family; he was frail, on top of being the size of a mouse. Natasha was simply a wonderful person, and made sure he wanted for nothing. Clothing, food, water, companionship, all things she happily shared, while asking very little in return. His life had been dominated by fear before he met her; fear of no food, fear of his larger siblings, fear of humans... fear of dying alone. And Natasha had stopped all of that, she was the cure for all his phobias, a gentle giant that kept him safe from a world that wanted to starve him, crush him or eat him; and she still loved him.

Now relaxing, Pod withdrew his legs into his bellowing shirt; clothing his size was hard to come by, and he made do with a shirt from a doll too large for him, with fabric coming down to his knees and the yawning, dangling arm-holes, it was almost like a robe. He hummed contently as Natasha sat and picked up a book, beginning to scan the words on the page. She was glad that she had alleviated his fear.

A knock resounded from the front door, a brief rap to signal that someone was present. The great woman turned her head with a woosh of her loose hair strands and looked at Pod, who scrambled from the blocking cliff of her chin and onto the shoulder, into view. She furrowed her brow in bemusement, unsure who would be visiting her at this moment. She pulled up the pads of her fingers and allowed Pod to climb aboard, walking down the long, meaty pillars to be safely in her palm. She directed him down to the table, next to his sock, which served the function of his sofa and, at this time, shelter. He crawled in and made himself thin, so as to not be apparent to any humans with particularly keen eyes. The stealthy teen listened with his precise ears to Natasha, who was just now plodding away and unlocking the wide door.

"Oh, hello Veronica," Natasha chirped, unseen, to the mysterious person named 'Veronica'. If he recalled this was usually reserved for women, so he would assume that in his mental image.

"Ah, Natasha! So good to see you," the mysterious person responded, confirming her femininity with her high-pitched voice; slightly less breathy than Natasha's comforting timbre.

An awkward silence seemed to descend upon the duo, Pod unable to gauge how the exchange was going from his vantage point.

"Don't tell me you forgot..." said Veronica, her voice clearly disappointed, "My house is being fumigated, you said I could stay here?"

There was another pause before Natasha continued, "Oh yes... yes, I remember. That's no trouble at all! Come in and make yourself at home."

"Are you sure? I could ask someone else."

"No no, come right in, I'll just get some tea," Natasha responded, the sound of her steps moving into the kitchen.

"Oh... thank you so much!" Veronica called to the kitchen.

Pod held fast to the wide fuzzy ground as an unfamiliar set of steps slightly disturbed the table. Veronica had decided to rest in the living room, oblivious to her unseen guest, and dropped her luggage lazily before collapsing on the sofa and examining the room vacuously. Pod was slightly nervous, he was in a somewhat awkward situation now; should he introduce himself? That was potentially awkward, he hadn't really done it before. But if they were to spend a few days together, he might as well get it over and done with. Shuffling out, he popped his head from the mouth of the sock and soaked in the view of the opposing giant. Veronica was a rather tidy looking woman, her blonde hair nicely straightened and lips painted a vibrant red, wearing an unextravagant blouse. She seemed to be of a similar age to Natasha, but slightly thinner and with a few more wrinkles on her forehead. Despite that, she may have given her darker friend some competition in the looks department with her rather fetching face and body; although Pod was strictly a single woman man. He cleared his throat, which apparently wasn't enough to draw her attention, and opened his mouth wide for a greeting, "Hello!" he said in a tone that he hoped evoked a ring master, but rather was still bounded by his frail voice.

The blonde's blue eyes instantly shot to the table, to a tiny, smiling boy with a small tuft of hair above a ruffled grey robe that hung from his thin spread-out arms like lazy vines from a tree. Her eyelids went taut in a moment of shock, a sub-second pause before shrieking a high, murderous shriek, recoiling slightly, and shooting a manicured hand to a discarded magazine, roughly rolling it into a cylinder.

Pod was struck before he was even attacked by the impromptu weapon; he realised something, and he went totally numb. He was a tiny, not a human, he had almost forgotten that simple fact. What this woman was confronted by was a pest, a vermin, not an equal. She would have no reservations about exterminating him, and would very gladly crush him from existence. He kept his arms spread as he was confronted by the neon-yellow magazine bludgeon, hovering above his head and ready to strike.

"What's wrong?!" Natasha barked, bursting into the room at her friend's shriek. She shot her eyes back and forth between them; Pod, magazine, Veronica, and quickly figured out what was happening. She almost bounded across the room, using the small window provided by her friend's distraction at her entering, and shot an outstretched palm to prevent the stick from making contact. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" she almost screamed at her friend.

"I, uh, I..." she faltered, unable to come up with a response.

Natasha turned her head, to Pod. He was a sickly ghost white, almost translucent, and he fell onto his backside with his arms still outstretched; later moving them over he knees. Natasha's eyebrows peaked in sympathy; this was more important than some rubbish with her misbehaving friend. She quickly picked him up under the arms and sat him on her palm, although that didn't prevent his status as pale, shivering ball of catatonia. "P-pod, are you okay?"

Pod didn't know what to think. Tiny, he was a tiny, he remembered everything now, as if those cautionary tales had been repressed. He used to be afraid of humans, didn't he? Natasha even. All the concentrated fear of hundreds of childhood nightmares about humans' evil ways, all rushing back. What just happened registered, and he simply couldn't contain the welling pressure from behind his eyes. A fat stream of tears instantly appeared on his face, rushing onto his dry shirt and moistening it in growing patches. He covered his face and allowed his palms to take them, doubling over and pushing himself into her skin.

Natasha's stomach dropped to her feet; this was the thing she had wished she'd never have to see again. She was frustrated, there wasn't anything she could do right now to simply turn off the stream; but that frustration was eclipsed by a blinding rage for her friend. But not now, soon. "There, there, Pod, I'm here for you, Natasha's here," she soothed in her most vibrant, breathy and comforting tone, holding a finger on his back to let him know he had physical affection. "I won't let the bad woman get you, you're completely safe."

Veronica was almost as shocked as Pod, what she had done beginning to sink in. Was this really her friend? She was slightly disgusted really, that she'd keep one of those THINGS as a pet. "Y-you named him?" she asked, the only question she could muster at this moment.

Natasha heard the question and burst, her rage bubbling over, "No! His parents named him!" she barked, a strand of hair dislodging and falling over her eye, "What WAS that? Were you seriously going to kill him?!" she continued her rant.

Pod withdrew his tear stained face into his collar in fear. He had never seen her so angry, she was frankly terrifying; to have so much violence packed inside her gentle body.

"Natasha! It was one of those THINGS!" Veronica responded defensively. Natasha had clearly lost her mind and started taking in little bugs as friends.

The dark haired woman inhaled sharply, furrowing her brow. There were so many things she wanted to chew her out for: how disrespectful she was, how clueless she was about tinies, how she'd still argue despite her living in her house. But she'd need to condense all of that quickly before she frightened the poor thing even more, "Veronica, Pod here is one of my most precious friends, and frankly I care about him MUCH more than you at the moment," she snarled, Veronica clearly offended. "And I'll make it quick and say that if you do something like that again I will kick you out."

Veronica was in total disbelief. This madwoman would chose a bug over her?

Natasha wasn't a violent person, she had run out of steam with only her brief diatribe, and was looking to end this and get back to Pod, "Just... just apologise to him, okay?" she sighed, extending her palm. She kept her fingers close, keeping Pod very much in their grasp.

Veronica stared in utter bemusement at the bug, it seemed he was even wearing a shirt. Frankly, he looked pathetic; pale, shivering and curled up like a millipede. Apologising to an insect? Ridiculous. Although, slight humiliation was preferable to souring a friendship and temporary homelessness, "I'm... sorry?" she said, in something far removed from confidence.

Pod was simply so startled and afraid he muttered out, "Okay," before completely cowering again.

Natasha inhaled, a slight sense of relief, at least. It was strange she realised, she never really considered their relationship as anything other than 'natural'. But she did recall what she thought of them before he was found: she didn't, she'd never met one, or heard any horror stories about the elusive Lilliputians; Veronica probably only saw them as pests and vermin, which was no doubt from unfounded myths and ignorance of their society. She'd go into more detail later, although she might miss several of the more 'intimate' things they'd shared. "Veronica, I know you probably think this is weird, but really, they're just like us," she sighed, "I'll get the tea."

The friendlier older woman marched into the kitchen and sighed when she presumed she was out of direct earshot, bringing her tenderly sealed palm up and checking in on the weak boy. "P-Pod, I'm so sorry," she said, the residual anger turning to sadness and choking her. She felt so infinitely guilty, the possibilities and regrets running through her mind; 'what if I'd been a second too late?' 'what if I hadn't forgotten she was coming?' 'what if I've traumatised him by yelling?'.

Pod looked at her, as if a soldier looking up to a superior captain after injury; a touch of pain, a draw of sympathy, and a sense of betrayal. But Pod wasn't interested in making her feel any guiltier, he wanted one thing: a hug. He threw his arms up and begged to receive affection, and in response he was dropped on Natasha's shoulder by her neck. He lunged at the flesh-toned pillar and grabbed at it for all he was worth, nuzzling against it and seeking the warmth only his dearest friend and carer could provide. "D-do I really need to live with her?" he asked, his imagined puppy-dog eyes unseen to her.

"Y-yes, I'm sorry."

Pod whimpered.

Meanwhile, Veronica sat down with crossed legs. That whole thing was weird, she was simply reacting on instinct to crush a bug, she'd done it many times before. She'd never really thought about those tiny things, she'd just heard they were bugs and was unnerved by their weird appearance. Her other friend had an infestation, and they'd almost eaten her out of house and home, not to mention the dirt they'd leave and scampering around the wall; just like any pest. But Natasha had said 'they're just like us', and that sounded ridiculous!... But did that thing actually say 'okay'?

---

Pod stared as if down a scope at Veronica, the monumental villain opposite to him on the table. He tightened his green eyes in suspicion, worried that at any moment Veronica would jump across the table and crush him from existence. Although, he knew deep down that would never happen, he was so close to Natasha, in the shadow of the slight lip of the plate, that she'd be able to protect him.

When Pod's desire to eat became greater than the threat of Veronica, he'd poke at the slab of meat ahead of him, on his bottle cap 'table', and take a few tender strands to nibble on.

Veronica also ate her much more impressive, although not relatively, steak, attempting to ignore the rude little boy whose eyes could be felt on her. She was slightly disturbed that Natasha let it eat at the table, but if it kept away from her food, she wouldn't complain so much. She couldn't help occasionally looking its way, a blank expression on her face, not affording it the effort of an expression.

Natasha could feel the tension on the air, the awkward silence was oppressive. She nudged at her meal with a fork, turning potential solutions over in her head; this situation seemed like a stalemate. Natasha rolled her eyes mentally, if this was a single dinnertime how would the rest of the time be? Natasha realised she couldn't stand days like this, "So... ummm... Pod," she threw out, attracting attention and deciding on who to address, "Why don't you tell Veronica about how we met?" she said jovially, with a cheek-expanding smile.

Pod stared at her, little dot eyes wide and deer-like. He shook his head back and forth almost like a shiver, he didn't want to talk to her.

Natasha swallowed a mouthful, eyes begging him to comply. He continued to shiver, shooting looks over his bottle-cap to the blonde enemy. Inhaling through her nose, she turned to her friend, who wore a slightly bewildered and almost disbelieving expression. "Well, anyway..." she turned back to her meal, "It's quite an adorable story. I found Pod badly injured in the kitchen, right there," she said with a point, "And I just had to help him. It took a few days, he was so scared of me at first, but he eventually recovered well enough. Now he's as fit as a fiddle!" she beamed proudly.

Veronica nodded along with her friend's story, taking in the glimpses of information, "So... why did you decide to help him?" she asked, in a genuine question. She still didn't really 'get' why she was so attached... even if it seemed to be more intelligent that she had originally supposed.

"Well, he was just so... vulnerable. I was a nurse remember? I guess I had some instinct," she shrugged.

"So he looked pathetic basically?" she added coldly.

Natasha glared at her, switching to Pod to check how he took it. He didn't seem too affected, but it was hard to tell with how small and delicate his cute little expressions were. "Y'know, I really think tinies have a raw deal in society."

"Really?" Veronica smirked.

Brushing off her slight rudeness, Natasha continued, "They really are just like us. Pod here's just like any other teenager, really. Well, maybe more humble. Did you know they could speak?" she asked with a waving fork.

"...no," Veronica admitted; she really didn't know how to feel about it either.

"Yeah, I had no idea. Pod here is talkative once you get to know him," she smiled down at him, who continued to eat his steak; slowing down.

"I'm sure he is..." Veronica said in a somewhat patronising tone.

Natasha was sensing her friend's pessimism, and realised that perhaps this was going to be harder than anticipated. It seemed like dinner was winding up, and Pod awkwardly sat before the cold slab of meat. Natasha rose from her seat and took both her friends' empty plates; leaving them alone for a tense moment. They eyeballed each other, not taking any particularly dangerous moves, but it was still enough to chill Pod to the core.

Natasha returned in time to deposit him at her shoulder before his death at the hands of the vicious lioness. He cosied up closer to her than he usually would, and resisted her quaking steps. As Veronica rose from her seat she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see her friend, with her little pet latched to her neck. "Give him a chance, please?" was all she said before leaving.

---

"Are you clean? Have you brushed your teeth?" a pyjama clad Natasha asked to her tiny friend, standing at his pseudo-apartment on her bedside table; sock for bedding, bowl for a bath, tiny boxes for places to store his things, all gathered below the shade of a sensible lamp.

"Y-yes," he nodded stiltedly, kisses of moisture still steadfast in his hair. It was plain to see he was distressed.

Natasha took a seat on the bed and sighed, her face falling limp in disappointment, "What's wrong Pod?..." she sighed, knowing full well the answer.

"I-I'm sorry Natasha... but... I'm scared..." he squeaked out.

Natasha grimaced, she prayed that all the progress they had made over the months wasn't gone from a stupid hysterical friend. "I'm so sorry Pod, this shouldn't have happened," she groaned, collapsing her face into her palms.

The sight of the living mountain curled up did little to alleviate his poor mood, it was an awkward situation when they both felt guilty. Pod just dropped to the floor, drooping his head.

Natasha sat up and looked at him, the cutest thing in the world, in a tiny deflated ball. She knew he was the kind of person to struggle to sleep at times like these, so he needed some help. She lifted him up under the arms and gently draped him onto her palm, where he stared up at her face, and felt the very slight aura of heat it emitted at this proximity. "It'll be alright Pod, I promise nothing like this will happen again, and Veronica won't lay a finger on you," her tone was earnest, determined, "You're safe with me, you're always safe with me."

Pod let reassurance well up inside him, and he stroked at her palm, "Thank you Natasha," he smiled.

Natasha thumbed him gentle, and leaned over to tug at the lamp's cord, setting them in darkness. She wriggled under the covers of her bed, and set her open palm on the unoccupied, or rather under-occupied, opposite pillow. They couldn't see each other in the dark, but they could feel each other; Pod was a tiny tickle of fine hair and dainty limbs; Natasha was an organic mountain range of satin skin and subdued warmth. They took comfort from one another in their own way, and after a gentle exchanging of 'good night', they shut their eyes and hoped that tomorrow was better.

---

The warm sunlight filtered through the green leaves, providing a comfortable shade for the mature woman and her darling little companion. She sat on her stomach in the protection of the arboreal guardian, her right hand holding open a thin book, and her left crossed over to allow her chin to rest. Pod sat here, on her bare arm; short sleeves required for the comfortable day.

"Then... he... nibb-led..."

"Nibbled."

"Nibbled... a... hol-e, um, 'hole'... in... the... co-coon," he said methodically. Pod sounded out the words very carefully in his head before he read them aloud, translating the runes to recognisable sounds, and stringing them into words. "pushed... his... way... out... and... He... was... a... a... um..."

"Sound it out sweetie," Natasha instructed, peering through her spectacles.

"Be-a-utiful? Oh! Beautiful!"

Natasha nodded proudly, a wide smile on her face.

"Beautiful... butterfly."

Natasha beamed her smile at him, closing 'the Very Hungry Caterpillar'. He had made it all the way through, which was quite an impressive feat. "Good job! You're making such good progress. How 'bout a break?"

Pod laughed and sighed simultaneously, "Yes please."

"Sure thing," she said, picking him up and moving onto her back, placing him on her shirt-covered belly to soak in the warm sun. He stretched his stiff body and rested his exerted mind.

As Natasha became closer and closer with the tiny, she was mortified to discover how naive and under-educated he was. It was like speaking to an alien almost, he couldn't read or write, knew nothing of history or science, and what was strangest of all he barely knew any animals outside of the garden realm. Of course, Natasha took the roll of his teacher, educating him on how to read, do basic arithmetic, and other basics young children have to learn. It was slow at first, his mind was well-developed and not flexible like those of children; but what he lacked in mental elasticity he made up for in tenacity and desire to learn. In particular he took an interest in history, sitting for hours watching documentaries and educating himself. He'd proudly parrot facts like, 'Cleopatra had an entire village of tinies built in her palace!' and other such tid-bits. Natasha was just happy to see him learn.

After the tumultuous events of yesterday, Pod needed some fresh air, and although the outside world was an intimidating place, he'd go wherever she felt comfortable taking him. He stretched his back near an ivory button keeping the opposing sails of her shirt together. The green sea of the leaves above him was an interesting sight, it seemed so far away from the boy, and brimmed with the fantastical and slightly menacing dragons known as birds; they were always the biggest deterrent to his 'excursions'. But with Natasha here, the bird was another of the tinies' mortal enemies that he was protected from.

Pod felt a tremor on the ground, a thundering, rhythmic unsteadiness. Not due to the subtle feeling of her expanding chest, he was used to that, no, this was something approaching. The crash became louder, and the feeling of fluttering impacts into the grass-blade knit ground intensified and hastened. His throat and chest tightened, his muscles twitching in fear; this was wrong... something was wrong. He gripped into the thick fabric button-down, and shot his microscopic pupils around the bright scenery. When finally, the great beast showed itself; an incomprehensible blur of random colour filled his view, causing him to lurch back as his muscles engaged in a seizured movement.

It was a child running past.

Pod sucked pollen-ridden air into his lungs and angled his eyebrows down, gazing with embarrassment as the child, one that likely hadn't seen him, shrunk in his view. He knew what was coming next.

"Pod? What's wrong?" Natasha asked in quick response after feeling his jolted movement.

Pod remained in a sullen silence, she was astute enough to know what had caused it soon enough; and he couldn't take the shame of admitting he had been startled by such a banal thing.

"Was it that little kid just now?" she asked, gentle accusation on her tone. She poked a finger near his head to feel the tickle of his nod, which indeed she did. "Pod..." she felt nauseous, he was different, so jumpy, flighty, he was living his life on the edge in a purely negative way. Perhaps he was demure before, but now he was completely fearful. "Pod... you're a brave kid..." she sighed, knowing what was best at the moment. She directed his tiny body through the air and onto a tall breast where she could see him, cute oversized shirt and all. She stared down her polite spectacles and onto him, his exposed face wearing a horrible expression: shame.

Natasha cruelly pushed her tongue into her front teeth to think, sucking on her lips. Frustration welled up; why was Veronica such an idiot? She'd turned him into a wreck. She knew he didn't want to hear this, but he had to, "Pod, you can't keep living like this."

He nodded meekly, still looking away.

Natasha didn't know what she expected, she knew words wouldn't help right now. Maybe it would help if he was so terrified at home; he had clung to her all morning, baulking at the thought of even a few moments alone. The older woman finally had an idea, "Pod... if I put you on better terms with Veronica, do you think you'd feel more comfortable?"

She saw his minute chest expand in a deep breath, "M-maybe, but she hates me... she even knows I'm not a person..."

Natasha grimaced again, "You are a person Pod, no ifs or buts. I promise you sweetie, if you be brave we'll get through this," she said in a vibrant tone, rich with determination.

Pod heaved a lump of fear in his gut away, she was right. He just needed to be brave, brave in the face of a mortal enemy... brave... He had done it before, he could do it again. But it was hard...

Natasha could see his crumbled resolve, and it simply broke her heart. She engaged her fingers over his back and gingerly gripped him in her palms, his head peeking out from above her palm-heels. She patted his head, running from his hair to down his smooth face; his frowning face. "Be brave Pod... I love you, I want you to be brave," she said, her voice dire.

Her words put a smile on his lips, he felt what she said was true. She pat his head with her monstrous thumb and he pat her hand with his minute hand, and she knew that was his way of making a promise.

---

Pod was in in the crest of two mountains, a hidden alien vale among a mountain range of plump textile. To his left the armrest rose above his head, a sheer cliff that was far too great to scale. Immediately behind him the even greater mountain of the backrest rose, exponentially greater than the adjacent armrest it dwarfed. And to his right, even greater still, was the neatly dressed living mountain of Veronica, legs crossed politely as she watched the television.

Vulnerable was what he felt. He was like a tiny speck amid the blue sea of the cushion, the backrest was comically sized for him, and the distant armrest was naturally impossible. The blue surface directly ahead seemed like a giant field, stretching out in all directions only to be halted by sheer cliff-faces, drop-offs or dangerous giant monsters. He awkwardly played with his millimetre long fingers in an attempt to swallow his fear, just as Natasha wished of him.

Veronica was mostly ambivalent to the 'insect's' presence. Natasha had come in only a few minutes ago and harshly warned her of what she'd do if she laid a finger on poor, innocent Pod, while she did miscellaneous housework. Apparently all he wanted to do was watch television together, although Veronica suspected this was purely engineering. So as Pod sat awkwardly in a seat hundreds of times too big for him, Veronica placidly watched the nature documentary with small interest.

"V-Veronica..." he peeped.

She heard a small, weak, squeaky little pip from her left, and looked down at the tiny, frightened little mouse in response. She smirked, she must have really traumatised the pipsqueak if his voice sounded like THAT.

"Mm?" she said with cocked eyebrows.

"Th-the... tissue box. C-can you move it please..." he said with a diaphanous voice.

Silently, Veronica slid the cardboard receptacle over, and returned to her placid sitting without even aknowledging him again.

"Th-thank you," he said in a whisper, almost a frightened hiss.

Pod's trial was now over, and he sighed a sigh of relief, and prayed she hadn't noticed his how relieved he was in the face of such a trivial thing. He now had a clear, unobstructed view of the giant screen, and could now enjoy the show. He would usually be sitting somewhere on Natasha while watching, and he obviously could not do the same with Veronica.

In a quarter of an hour Pod had managed to calm from a panicking bug to a slightly calmer bug, and could now play with his shirt instead of his fingers. A nature documentary was on the screen, one of his personal favourite genres; there were so many animals he had never seen or heard of, like sharks, and eagles, and bears, and the dozens of other things that domestic tinies would never see. And although not all of their sizes and appearances bode well with him, he knew that he would probably never see a bear in real life, and even if he did he was sure Natasha would work something out.

At the moment they were documenting several different kind of insects, creatures with which Pod, shamefully, related to slightly. Or at least he felt he knew more about them than a normal human. As a young child he would make friends with the ants the size of small puppies and watch with wonder as his older brothers and father would bring back a hunted grasshopper to eat. He watched on, seeing exotic beetles and other insects he'd never dreamed of, and feeling himself become slightly more worldly, with each new critter.

That was until the spiders came up. At the first hint of a tarantula's leg he plopped into his shirt, arms and all, and was preparing to wait out the grotesque storm.

Veronica saw the very slight movement at the periphery of her vision and turned to face him, "Don't like spiders huh?" she asked.

He shook his head in the shirt, still clearly visible.

"Do you want me to change the channel?" she asked again.

Another nod.

Veronica complied and changed the channel, some sitcom of small note. Pod came undone and began watching, thankful he was no longer forced to endure the arachnid monsters.

Why did she do that? She didn't really care if he was scared or not, it was his own fault for being a coward. Perhaps she was just... annoyed by it or something.

Veronica continued to watch the sitcom, the canned laughter slightly grating, but tolerable. During a certain scene, she heard another noise from her left, high pitched and soft, she realised her companion was giggling. What a strange noise... it was quite squeaky, like everything that came from his tiny mouth, but it was... infectious. The blonde giant covered her mouth as she involuntarily began laughing too, partially from the show and partially from Pod. Her louder jubilation drowned out his peepering, but he continued to sensibly giggle. Veronica remembered to yesterday, "Just like us..."

When the joke had finished, Pod turned to look at her, only to find she was doing the same to him. They shared eye-contact for a brief moment, not exactly sure what they were trying to convey to one another, before turning back to watch the show. And with a touch more mutual comfort, continued to laugh together.

A spent Natasha walked to the door leading to her living room after her chores were completed, ready to rescue Pod from an at best awkward and at worst terrifying experience. As she did so, she began to hear what sounded like... laughing; naturally her mind jumped the worst, and she imaged the cruel woman cackling at the dehumanised boy as he was tortured. She fastened her pace and quickly stepped in, much to her relief seeing that she was simply watching a comedy. To even further relief, she saw Pod hadn't moved from his designated seat, and by the very slight movements he made, he was laughing too. She couldn't help but smile with cheeks cherry from exertion, and walk with slipper clad feet over to her blue couch.

"Nice to see you two getting along," she said merrily. Veronica gave her a queer look, one that looked shocked and even conflicted. Natasha just smiled it off. "Mind if I join?"

Veronica shrugged.

So Pod wasn't extinguished beneath her backside, Natasha picked up the tiny and relocated him to her shoulder, along the soft, almost futon-like slope of her neck. She slid a pin from her mature bun and let her dark hair encase Pod in a concealed space, like a stage post curtain call. He felt safe here, much less exposed than before. All there was here was Natasha's colossus of a head and his window to the screen; Veronica done away with.

The opposite blonde giant took sneaky, side-long glances at Natasha. It was strange... behind her limp hair was TWO people, and it was strange how intimate it seemed. They must have been close, to be so close to each other and brush it off so easily; it seemed she had poorly gauged their relationship.

As the night went on, the trio watched on with occasional comments, even from Pod, who would usually whisper something to Natasha which would be relayed again. It was quite serene, and all three were comfortable with where they were.

In an exceptionally dim sound, heard only barely by Natasha, Pod let out a long yawn. After years of a bat-like sleeping routine Pod had managed to develop something more human; tonight that was in full effect, and he was dreadfully sleepy. Picking up on his infectious yawning, Natasha brought up a hand and gently stroked him, which was something that always exacerbated his drowsiness.

Comfortably touched by the large digit, which he hugged into like a child to a stuffed toy, he listened in to her heavy voice, "Are you tired Pod?"

She felt a tickle of hair on her neck: nodding. At the moment, she was a little too comfortable to tuck him into his sock for the night, so instead he'd rest comfortably enough iin her palm.

"Come and sleep here," she said, opening up the hand that stroked him and welcomed him aboard. Pod, obedient and content as always, scrambled over her fingers and onto her palm, looking up to her smiling face. She saw him glance over at the third member of their triplet. Natasha smiled a subtly different smile, more of an encouraging one than one of adoration, trying to convince him to stay and resist. Pod accepted the fact that he'd sleep partially under Veronica's gaze, as long as he was in the wide, warm, protecting palm of Natasha, he was fine.

Mulling over, Pod grabbed at a plain segment of her pudgy palm, beneath the towering pillars of her upturned fingers. He shifted the butter-like thick skin and 'fluffed it' as one does a pillow, making sure it was soft as could be. The tired boy wiggled his arms from their grey sleeves, pulling the shirt over him and revealing his thin loinclothed torso. Casting the fabric aside, he dropped his head down to the softened plump skin and rubbed his face into it, very slightly tickling her with his paint-brush hair. He was nestled into the angled wall at the base of her digits, plump bottom segments slightly fatter than the apex of the four totem poles. Lovingly, Natasha withdrew a small, thin rag from her pocket and draped the blanket over him, to which he clutched the corner and held it tight.

He was such a gentle creature, the picture of innocence it seemed. As he breathed in the very slightly humidified air of her palm, she felt the expanding of his chest, a comforting feeling; he was alive and well. Pod was tiny, he was absolutely minute, her dainty fingers stood taller than his meagre frame, and when he was curled up like this he was nothing but a faintly breathing bundle of delicate adolescent. If she so desired, Natasha was sure it would only take a slight clench of her fist to reduce him to a puddle, but she would never in a million years do something in the same realm as that. Instead she folded her cupped palms, rested them in her lap, and attempted to keep as still as possible to not disturb his slumber. "Good night, sweetie," she wished.

"N-nigh..." he began to say before trailing off into a yawn and not bothering to finish his word.

Natasha turned her eyes back to the screen now that he was tucked in.

"I suppose he is... cute," Veronica said, seemingly out of the blue. Natasha was slightly taken by her friend's words, turning to see a rather blank expression with dull eyes poised on her folded hands.

Natasha's face melted into a smile, "Yes, he is."

Veronica felt so strange, logically she knew he wasn't a person, but... he really did look it. She had just brushed off the resemblance, no one else was bothered by it, but knowing that she knew they could talk, laugh... and be so cute. Unlike Natasha, Veronica was a mother, and at an early age; all her children had 'flown the coop', and she had to admit that Pod bore a resemblance to her son, with his brown hair and thin frame. She turned her eyes back to the screen with a lot to think about.

---

Veronica wandered through the well lit kitchen, the relatively small room occupied by her friend, who stood at the counter and chopped a vegetable in preparation of lunch. She had almost completed her journey through the room before she caught her eye on the precipice of the table. A small person stood there, holding a match with a red phosphorus tip; the thing that had caught her eye. Pod dutifully held onto the stake roughly his height, waiting for when the diligent chef would need it. Pod noticed Veronica's interest in him, and slightly straightened his posture, standing like a medieval guard with a pike.

Veronica knelt to be level with the counter, bringing her face in direct confrontation of him and hovering at a small distance. Pod felt awkward, and he kept his mouth shut to wait for whatever comment she would make. Eventually, she smiled, "You look like a little wizard," she said.

Pod looked down, his grey robes and accompanying staff, it was slightly reminiscent of characters from a few movies he had seen. "Oh... l-like from that movie?"

"Yeah, It's cute."

Pod blushed, he didn't mind it when Natasha called him cute, but it was stranger when Veronica did it. He continued to stand awkwardly with his staff in hand while, unseen to both of them, Natasha smiled.

"Could I have that match now please sweetie?" Natasha interjected, causing Pod to lift up the heavy stake and pass it to her.

"Do you need any more help Natasha?" he asked, craning his neck.

"No no, would you like me to turn on the TV?"

"Yes please," he smiled.

"I'll take him, if you would like," Veronica replied, causing both of them to pause for a second.

"I... guess? Lunch'll be ready soon," Natasha said somewhat struck.

Veronica placed her crimson-nailed hand up to the edge of the counter. The blood-soaked talons of the beast lay before him, and against his tiny instinct he stepped on.

Veronica smiled, he was very light, and his tiny feet pushed gently into the thick skin of her palm; fingers caging him in. She walked gently to the living room, not so harshly to spook him, and noticed how Pod's feather-like body swayed with each step she took. She took her position on the right seat of the couch and allowed the small thing to scramble, particularly hastily, from her palm and plonk his tiny behind on the ground, cross-legged. She watched him for a few more moments, sensing his uneasy disposition through his face, where his blank mask slipped and revealed panic.

She could appreciate this now, it must have been scary to have a giant magazine rolled up and about to execute you... She reached for the remote and flicked it on, awkwardly tucking her arm against the armrest, and not on top, to not disturb him.

After only a few minutes of mindless game show, Veronica was bored. Last night, when Pod was asleep, he really did look quite sweet under his blanket, and she wasn't sure how to feel about finding one of those things 'cute'. She turned to face Pod, drawing his less than focused attention, "How tall are you, Pod?" Veronica asked in a casual tone, like people making chit-chat in an dentist's office.

Pod swallowed, he was being addressed, and he needed to answer. His height, Natasha had measured that some time ago, "Umm... about 48 millimetres..." he answered, which was accurate enough for the human eye, "I'm not very big..." he admitted, casting his eyes down, "E-even with other tinies I'm short."

"Really?" she said unsurprising, she could already tell he was a bit of a 'pipsqueak' from his big head and thin body.

"Even my sisters were taller than me..."

"Surely that would have been only a few millimetres, what difference does that make?"

"To humans..."

Veronica nodded along, allowing silence to descend. But he had just admitted that he had a family, and that seemed like an opportunity to get to know him better, "So you had a family? Where are they?"

"W-we lived in a big house, th-they're all still there."

Veronica was still curious, but this might be a sore spot for him, so she'd need to be gentle, "If they're all still there why aren't you with them?" she said gently, perhaps slightly apprehensive of the answer.

"I left," he said in a quiet albeit blunt statement.

That was a genuine surprise, and this subconsciously manifested on her eyebrows, "Really? Why did you leave? It must've been safe if your entire family was there."

Pod took a deep breath, he honestly didn't know why he was opening up to his attempted murderer, "I-I said I was short... and weak. My papa was always annoyed th-that I couldn't help out. My brothers too, they'd always bully me. H-hit me..."

Veronica could tell he was becoming emotional, he must have had a tough childhood. She had dealt with bullying at a young age, so had her son; although she supposed what they experienced wasn't as bad as what he had gone through. When Natasha said 'just like us' it seemed not only the good parts. "So you ran away from your family?"

"N-no... tinies usually leave at a certain age. S-sometimes they come back, or s-start a new family. I wanted to show I could do it..."

Veronica swallowed, she never considered the kind of things that went on in the world, quite literally, beneath her feet, "I'm sorry," was all she said.

"N-no, I'm glad I did!" he said with a touch of diminutive vigour, even in the face of Veronica.

"Oh?" Veronica said with a wrinkled forehead, both surprised and impressed at his sudden animation.

"I met Natasha! And she... she... I..." he faltered, he didn't know what to say about her, "...I'm glad I know her," was all he said.

The blonde giant smiled, she could tell he appreciated their mutual friend. "Natasha is very nice, she let ME stay, after all..."

"Before Natasha I never had hot food... human food is so tasty," he said with a less choked tone, and a tiny twinkle.

Veronica smiled, but the implication of no hot food was slightly startling. They really WERE pests...

"Lunch is ready you two!" came a call from the kitchen.

Veronica placed her rose tinted nails up again and allowed Pod scramble on, faster than before, and go retrieve his hot meal.

---

For the second night in a row Pod found himself engulfed amid the luxurious creases of his carer's palm, sitting so casually on the ample pads of her fingers. He remained mostly calm and still, except for the occasional gesture to one of the jig-edged pieces on the table, making a suggestion for it to be slotted into a specific place. This was a bit of entertainment that Natasha was sharing with Veronica, Pod only placidly observing and helping occasionally. It was relaxing, especially for Pod, who became drearier as the night passed and the landscape became more and more discernible. Eventually he stretched his back and flipped over, allowing the gentle slope of her fingers to pull him into the satin centre.

"Are you tired Pod?" Natasha asked rhetorically, but receiving a nod anyway.

He nodded and yawned, chewing on air as he stretched.

"Umm... may I take him?" Veronica piped up upon hearing them preparing for bed, her tone not confident in the slightest.

Natasha and Pod both stared at her like she was an alien, which did nothing to help her trepidation at asking. The two darker haired people turned to look at each other, to confirm. From Veronica's perspective it seemed like they spoke through their minds, some strange alien communication she was not attuned to; more likely Natasha had a better view and understanding of his elfin facial expressions.

After their telepathic conveyance, Natasha extended one slightly shivering boy for her to take. Without being hasty she worked him onto her fingers, and, when he was firmly supported, gave him a smile that was unaffected by his obvious fear. Like an organic elevator she slowly lowered him down to her thigh, hopeful it would provide him with a suitable surface for sound sleep. He slowly meandered off her horizontal hand and onto a random patch of soft grey pants leg, knit tight and hugging to her relatively thin thigh. He kept his eyes tracked on her face, peering over her protruding bust, much to his neck's apprehension. Eyes still trained, he removed his 'wizard robe' clothing and discarded it to the side. He lowered his now exposed thin frame to the floor and stared upwards patiently.

Natasha extended her hand again, transferring a thin piece of fabric to Veronica. She angled it to hang limply from her fingertips, and was prepared to drape it over him, but not before taking a teasing poke at his belly, "Heh, you're quite thin, but I think you're still filling out a bit," she joked, finally laying it on.

Pod had a smile too small for the blonde mountain to notice. He didn't take any offence, quite the contrary; he still remembered when his brothers would push him to the ground just because he was too light to offer any resistance.

"That's all the human food he's been having," Natasha giggled. She made sure not to overfeed him, but moving from a diet of crumbs to hot meals would naturally have him gain some mass.

Veronica now had a tiny boy on her thigh, warmed under a thin blanket. It was an odd feeling, he wasn't heavy at all, he barely exerted enough pressure to deform her pants, and his movements were noticeable but inconsequential. "Good night, Pod," she wished, her eyes lingering on him. Although she was still polite, and didn't want to be presumptuous.

"Night sweetie," Natasha wished, proud of both of them.

Veronica turned her eyes to the puzzle, pinched a thin piece from the pile, and scanned the dotted board for a suitable fit. Before that spot was located she sighed and looked back down, "And... I'm sorry," she said simply, hoping he was still awake.

Natasha had a warmth well-up inside her as she overheard her friend; it was genuine this time. To think, a short few days had turned Pod from an insect to a person in her eyes, which was no small feat. Her assessment must have been correct: it WAS impossible to hate him. And if one person could be 'converted', who's to say that millions more couldn't?

He drifted off, perturbed initially by a thigh he was not used to being his bedding, but gradually melting along with his body into the soft surface, his tiredness dripping through the fibres. Veronica was an evil bitch, but a nice one, and he might as well enjoy sleeping on something fleecy and warm. Next time he would be wary around strange humans, he would barge ahead alone; this was at least one lesson he had learned. In a sleepy voice he spoke, a whisper half blanket-muffled and barely heard by the woman far above, "I forgive you..."

---

"Thank you so much for the excellent hospitality Natasha," Veronica said chirpily, her shoulders pulled by the weight they bore. Had she not been handicapped she might have even dared to leaned in for a hug.

"It was no big deal, really, you were a perfect guest," she brushed off with a dismissive handwave.

Veronica smirked and looked down to Natasha's palms, and her smaller friend within, "Somehow I don't think so," she chuckled, deciding to drop her luggage. She extended a red finger and brushed his unkempt hair, Pod responding to the weight with a smile and head down-turned from the slight pressure. "I'm so sorry about what happened, you've really opened my eyes... If I see any tinies around the house I'll be sure to leave them a few bites to eat," she said with a chuckle, although one that didn't diminish the earnest in her statement.

Pod genuinely felt happy; if somewhere, sometime in the future, a fellow tiny's life was made a small bit easier, he was glad. And maybe even these days were worth it.

"Feel free to pop-in for tea at any time, we'll both be happy to see you," Natasha bade farewell.

Veronica just smiled and picked up her luggage, nodding and departing through the door. Natasha let Pod wave as she left, his tiny limb shaking back and forth until she was obscured by a different house. Natasha closed the door; back in their quiet abode. It felt lonelier now, less busy; they wondered how they had ever dealt when they were both truly alone, living their separate lives under the same roof. Finally the cold silence was broken with a chuckle from Natasha and thumb stroking him along his back, "So, finally, we have some privacy."

Pod knew what she meant, he stroked at her thumb and felt relieved.

---

Like the rolling mountain range of maturity she was, Natasha reclined on her side, supported by the ruffled blanket of her bed. She smiled as she observed Pod at the edge of a pillow too soft for him, causing him to sink, pulling on his legs like quicksand. He pulled his grey shirt over his head and undid the loincloth he still wore underneath, leaving them behind as he travelled down the edge of the pillow. He was much more comfortable being around her while naked now, but the knowledge of what he was about to do provided a small blush for Natasha's keen eyes.

Ever since Pod had been 'made a man' by her she hadn't shied away from giving him relief and having some lewd fun; and right now that's precisely what he needed. These past few days had been a trial for Pod, as if he had gone to battle; facing a foe, defeating his fear, and in the end returning triumphant. And the veteran deserved a reward.

Pod shivered, both from the slight chill in the air and the overwhelming height of the older woman's body, even when reclining. She grabbed at the base of her sweater and drew it up, revealing her colossal chest and tucking the slack beneath her chin. Her upper breast collapsed on the lower, massive hefty orbs that seemed to possess the weight of the world. He stood at the base of the pale hemisphere, pointy red nipples the diameter of bar stools jutting out above his head. Overcome with a youthful lust he hugged into her thick, textured skin; cuddling into the fat and soaking up the warmth. After the time with Veronica he realised how much he appreciated Natasha, just to be able to do something like this was blissful. He felt himself melting, like he would sink into the butter of her chest and never escape. The scents of her body; soap, pheromone, sweater, all combined in his nose and weighed down his brain. Pod was happy.

Natasha just gushed, he was adorable; so enthralled with her breast, it made her feel special. She slid an index finger to his feet and let him step on, feeling his small weight on her dainty fingertip. Like an escalator she moved it along her sensitive mammary's surface until he was at the equator of the sphere; she wasn't so generous to not make him work for it, at least a little. Still in awe of the slope curving above his head, he leaned in, using his thin arms to drag himself upwards, tickling the giant constantly. With a few almost aquatic arm-strokes he managed to claw himself up onto the plateau of her breast, in the shadow of a giant, plump globe hovering above.

After a few teasing days of Spring the weather had turned and they were plunged into a cold-snap. But Pod wasn't feeling it at the moment, in the cold air her breasts almost steamed, and he could enjoy this heater to himself. Natasha gazed upon him with a grin, his minute all-fours body gently pressing down into her plush skin. She used her hand to pry the top orb from the bottom, and produced a tiny, dark, nook for him to worm into, which he did.

Nestled between her two ominous breasts, his body rejoiced as the ceiling lowered onto him with great delicacy. Natasha, through careful observation and instinct, knew how much pressure and weight he could both receive and enjoy, and she made sure he was comfortable. Pod, located in his perfect slice of heaven, was cocooned among countless tons of Natasha; his senses treated to the sultry heat, the luscious, textured skin, the thump of her accelerating heart, and, in the dim, yearning light, the tiniest peek of her face.

Natasha threw him into turmoil as she gentle jiggled and massaged her upheld breast, supporting it's lower twin with the other hand and keeping him snug. He was rocked by her lascivious currents, and he could abate his natural fear to enjoy the pampering she so lovingly showered him in.

What would Veronica think? Natasha wondered to herself. Veronica could accept that they were friends, great friends even, but that they did this? That might be too much for her. It didn't matter though, precisely two people's opinions mattered; and they were currently enthralled.

The tiny boy popped quickly, he was just so enticed at the moment he couldn't last long. Natasha felt it, and readjusted herself to better be able to see. She rolled onto her back and allowed herself to rest; there he was, drained and sticky, just as she imagined he would be. A tissue was all it took, and soon he was good as new. Natasha could see the intense exhaustion on his face, he looked wizened and weary, something that days of pent up sexual energy and fear had culminated in. She didn't feel like disturbing him, and she was quite comfortable herself. She rolled back onto her side, "Get a few moments of rest Pod, it's fine," she reassured him with; there would be more time later. She saw the smile on his face, and he dragged his tired body deep into the crevice of her breasts, tucking himself directly into the safe space at the very base of her chest. She pulled her sweater back down and let him exist in his own private world for at least a brief moment.