Soft Caption: Be A Good Girl…

The car door swung open, and he hesitated. His fingers—slim, delicate, small—gripped the edge of the seat, and he felt his stomach twist. He wasn’t used to this. The weight of long hair cascading over his shoulders, the soft curve of his frame, the unfamiliar tightness of the dress she had insisted he wear. And then there was her—his girlfriend—standing outside the car, arms crossed, smirking at him. “Come on, sweetheart,” she teased, tilting her head. “Don’t keep me waiting. Ladies first.” He shot her a glare. “Very funny.” Still, he stepped out carefully, trying not to stumble in the ridiculous heels. He almost pulled it off—until his ankle wobbled slightly, and she let out a low whistle. “Aww, look at you,” she mused, eyes dancing with amusement. “So dainty.” “Shut up.” Her grin widened. “Such language from such a pretty little thing! Is that any way to act when your big, strong boyfriend holds the door for you?” He crossed his arms, glaring up at her. “You’re not my boyfriend.” “Oh, but I am, babe.” She stretched her arms, rolling his old shoulders like she was testing out a brand-new car. “And wow, I finally get why you always talked so tough. Overcompensating much?” His small hands curled into fists. “I wasn’t overcompensating.” She leaned in, tapping his nose with a teasing finger. “Mmhmm. Sure. Well, now you don’t have to pretend. You’re just as soft as you look.” He scoffed. “I could still take you.” That made her laugh—a deep, full-bodied laugh from his chest that made his face burn. “Oh, honey,” she cooed, shaking her head, “you can barely take a step without wobbling. Face it, you were never actually the tough one.” “This is temporary,” he gritted out. “When we switch back—” “—You’ll go right back to acting like you run the show?” she finished for him, smirking. “Please. Deep down, you know the truth now.” His lips parted, but nothing came out. She grinned, leaning down close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I especially knew it last night,” she murmured. His breath hitched. “Shut up.” “Oh, come on,” she teased. “You were the one pressing up against me like a needy little thing. Getting all breathless while I—” “Shut. Up.” His face burned hotter. She laughed again, standing tall in his body. “I should’ve known,” she mused. “You act all confident, all in control, but the second I had my hands on you, you just melted.” His jaw tightened. “You’re the one who—” “Oh, no, no, no,” she cut him off, tilting her head. “I was just following your lead, babe. And your lead? Let’s just say it wasn’t very dominant.” He clenched his teeth, shifting uncomfortably. She was loving this. “No wonder you’re handling this so well,” she continued, smirking. “You were always a little submissive, weren’t you?” “I hate you.” She only grinned, reaching for his hand—small, weak, helpless in hers. “No, you don’t.” Her grip was firm, guiding him forward effortlessly. “Now, be a good girl and let me hold your hand while we walk inside. Wouldn’t want you tripping in those heels.”