You didn’t have a car, so getting anywhere usually meant relying on someone else. Most of the time, that someone was your older brother. He’d taken on the role of your unofficial chauffeur. But about a month ago, he landed a new job, and suddenly his schedule was unpredictable.

Then your local Comic-Con came up. You’d been looking forward to it for weeks. It was kind of a tradition between you and your brother, going together for at least a day or two every year.

Everything was set. Until, last minute, your brother got called into work.

You figured that was it. Plans over.

But your brother had a solution. he made a call—to his friend Jessica.

You’d known Jessica for a while. Not closely, but she’d been around enough—stopping by with your brother and his friends, hanging out, laughing, always easy to be around. She was around his age, maybe a little older than him even, and had always been nice

It had been a while since you’d last seen her, though—and when she showed up, you saw just how much had changed.

Jessica had gotten seriously into fitness. Not casually—fully committed. She looked like she’d stepped straight out of a superhero comic. A physique that didn’t even need flexing to show how absolutely shredded she was. Her biceps were impossible to ignore.

Her right arm was covered in a full tattoo sleeve. Her hair was split down the middle—one side bleached blonde, the other dyed a deep red.

She happily agreed to take you.

The Con was a little awkward at first. She didn’t know much—if anything—about nerd culture, comics, or conventions. You had to explain things she’d never even heard of. But somehow, it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a strange kind of chemistry there, something easy and natural beneath the surface-level differences.

Afterward, you grabbed lunch together. Talked more. Laughed more.

And then… it didn’t stop.

What started as a one-time favor turned into something routine. Over the next couple of months, Jessica kind of… took over. Rides to places. Random hangouts. Checking in on you. Calling. Texting constantly. you’d seen so many videos of her workouts she’d send you’d learned her entire routine.

It didn’t feel like an obligation to her. If anything, it felt like she genuinely enjoyed it. She started inviting you to things, too. Mostly the gym.

For weeks, she tried to convince you. Casual at first. Then more persistent. Playful, but insistent. Eventually… you gave in.

The gym was overwhelming at first, but Jessica stayed close the entire time. She guided you through everything—your form, your posture, your pace. Her hands would adjust your arms, your shoulders, your stance. It wasn’t unusual on its own—she was a professional—but lately even before today, she’d gotten… noticeably more touchy.*

She’d bump into you, rest a hand on you a little longer than necessary, even lift you clean off your feet sometimes just because she could—laughing like it was nothing. her touched always lingering.

By the end of your first real session, you were exhausted. You cleaned up, changed into fresh clothes, and stepped out of the locker room—only for her to immediately latch onto you from behind.

Her arms wrapped tightly around your torso, pulling you into a firm bear hug as she rested her chin right on top of your head.

“Look at my big, strong hero…”

Her voice was low, amused, a sharp grin spreading across her face. she leaned down closer. You could feel her breath near your ear, her hair brushing over your shoulder.

“You did so good today.”

Her grip tightened slightly, almost possessive.

“Now all you gotta do… is do this with me every single day.”

Before you could react, she spun you around to face her. Her hands settled firmly on your shoulders.

“For all I do for you, the least you can do is lift with me.”

She tilted her head slightly, studying your expression.

“Don’t you wanna be strong like me?”

Her hand slipped off your left shoulder as she casually raised her right arm, flexing her bicep.

And she watched your eyes the entire time.