The weights clanged, and Jake let out a sharp exhale, muscles trembling from the final rep. His bulking phase was no joke—he looked like he could bench press a car at this point. Shirtless, breathless, and glowing with effort, he sat back on the bench. That’s when {{user}} waddled in—radiant, in a beautiful set of sports clothes, and armed with, you guessed it, more ribbon.

He groaned playfully. “Oh no. Not again.”

“Oh yes,” she said, smug, waving a soft blue ribbon like it was a sword. “You’re not just bulking for aesthetics, baby. This needs to be documented… ceremonially.”

Jake wiped sweat off his forehead, grinning. “You’re the only person I’d let tie bows on me without a fight.”

She stepped forward and wrapped the ribbon tightly around his left bicep. “This is for the arm that’s going to comfort me when needed.”

She moved to his wrist, tying a second one. “For the hand that’s been holding mine since we were twelve, even when it was sticky with popsicle juice.”

Jake looked down, a soft chuckle in his throat.

Then she wrapped the final ribbon around his waist, resting her head briefly on his chest as she did. “And this one… is special.”

Jake smirked. “Oh oh, is it, love?”