#Ren💚

[marchsfreakshow]

Whatever this is but I'm not telling you who I thought of when I was thinking about it.

(tagging it as the characters I write for so take a guess at who I thought of)

18+! MINORS DNI!

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Your lips fell in a silent gasp, head tilting back silently. Fuck...you were currently the hottest thing on the planet to him. Here he was, holding the backs of your thighs as he kept them split, filling you up with every inch of him slowly. He had to supress a loud groan that bubbled through his lips as a quiet whimper.

No one outside that room knew you were gripping the edge of the desk, back arched up slightly as you painstakingly silently enjoyed yourself. The fact your legs were split open only brought him further pleasure. Fuck, he'd definitely press his thumb to your clit if he wasn't holding up your legs.

Trembling with every thrust, you were in pain from not being able to moan out his name. Letting the world know who was making you feel this good. "So good...god.." he mumbled out, letting out a quiet breath after as he only picked up the pace.

Oh, if only the people outside the room knew. How badly you needed his cock, and how willing you were to let him defile you on the desk right then and there. No condom either. How brave.

[marchsfreakshow]

By @danzinmfndaze !! <3

Currently the only art I have of us together but I still admire it cause I love Daze's art sm

interactive selfship prompt !

interactive selfship prompt ! reblog with some of your favorite art you have of your selfship ! this can be your own art, commissions, picrews, screeshot edits, whatever youd like ! show off your favorite art !!!!!!

[xinyuehui]

If I could rewind time.

[palecryptid]

my spot art for @futabazine - for a wonderful piece by ao3 user gorokiichi ⭐️

(check out the full zine here)

[hopefulblazeexpert]

It’s really crazy how true the statement “Anything can be about your ship if you try hard enough” is

Anyway the song “Lonely No More” by Rob Thomas is the single most Bingqiu from Binghe’s perspective song I have ever heard

Like, putting aside the obvious abandonment issues and loneliness stuff, like. The singer explicitly asks the object of his affection to open up to him the same way they would with their friends, he talks about saying anything to get them back, the fact that the entire song is just the narrator begging his lover to not leave him, Hell, THIS ENTIRE BRIDGE ALONE

“What if I gave all my life to find some way to stand beside you?” LIKE. THAT’S LBH FROM THE ABYSS ONWARDS

[marchsfreakshow]

HUSBAND. HUSBAND HUSBAND!!!!

guys I'm so normal abt him...so normal...I love him...

i want to thank @marchsfreakshow for encouraging me to post it. this is insanely long, had to be divided into other chapters, this is the first one. hope you guys like it because i loved to write this fic. sorry for the mistakes here. english is not my first language. special thanks for @ikkyfics!!

THE GREAT GUIDE FOR JAILBIRDS IN LOVE

warren lipka x fem!reader

summary: tough times shows up after prision. His only alternative? Working miles away from home. The name of the place was almost faded, but he could still make it out: Last Chance Market.

tags n warnings: postprison!warren, singlemom!reader, language, age gap (late 20s/early 30s), suggestive, complicated family scenario. word count: 13k

Rule #1: Make a Good Impression

Warren was cornered. Spending time in prison wasn’t as tough as what came after: having to rebuild his life from scratch, with that stupid criminal record hanging around his neck like a weight. There was no place for him anywhere, not even at street corner markets selling stolen cigarettes. He felt useless. He’d been turned down even for a job at a sleazy motel, where not even the criminal underworld seemed to want him anymore. Rent was overdue, and his last meal of the month was expired cereal from a month ago and a warm bottle of beer, which he was still deciding whether or not to drink to numb the pain a little.

He had almost given up on looking for more opportunities. Maybe selling art on the beach, like Spencer, or getting rid of all the junk in his place until he was left with just a bed and a fridge. Because, honestly, even a wood-burning stove could come in handy these days.

What was there to do now? The answer was simple: absolutely nothing. Just shrink. He slouched on the couch, legs stretched out, eyes glued to his phone screen, as if it were his last lifeline. The internet bill was the only thing he had managed to keep up with. Funny. He could be broke and starving, but funny videos were a relief. Reality, no matter how harsh, could wait. He mindlessly scrolled through the feed, as if in some way postponing the inevitable, until a message flashed on the screen, snapping him out of his stupor.

Spencer:

Hey man. My buddy’s market is hiring. Cashier. Male. $1,720. Fuel help. Only requirement is knowing how to count change. No small talk. Just show up today at 3 PM.

It was impossible not to feel an immediate sense of relief, like life had suddenly given him a second chance. This had to be some kind of miracle. But of course, there was a catch. It was already 2 PM, and the market was on the other side of the city. So, what did he do? Like an automatic reflex, he glanced at the dirty mirror on the wall. He needed a shower, at least.

He grabbed his phone again without thinking twice. Before stepping into the bathroom, he sent Spencer a message.

Warren:

Thanks, man. I know this could be my last shot before I fade into invisibility.

Spencer:

I know things are tough. Good luck. I know you’ll nail it.

With that, Warren rushed into the shower, doing the bare minimum to look like someone who hadn’t completely lost himself. He thought about his clothes. His first option was what was left of the most “decent” outfit— the T-shirt and jeans he’d worn the day of the robbery. “Great, perfect impression, Warren Lipka,” he muttered, staring at himself in the mirror. The shirt was wrinkled, and the jeans had a hole in the pocket, but deep down, he didn’t care anymore. Ironing? Maybe another day. If he had to go, he might as well go in style. A style that was wrinkled, but still, style.

He checked the GPS and entered the address. The drive would be long, the kind of trip that makes you see parts of the city you only know by name. It felt like a tour, but of a place you didn’t want to know. The city stretched out, as if it couldn’t quite handle its own misery. Finally, he reached a run-down market and parked in a secluded corner. The name of the place was almost faded, but he could still make it out: Last Chance Market.

“Last Chance? What a joke,” he muttered to himself, laughing quietly as he stepped out of the car. He locked the door quickly, not wasting time. What kind of neighborhood was this? You never know when a bigger problem might pop up, something worse than a simple job interview.

He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, but a strange wave of nervousness hit him. It was just another job, he told himself. Just another one, a way to get things moving, even a little. If he was lucky, maybe he'd even come out with some dignity. If he was unlucky... well, he was used to that.

The one thing he knew for sure was that, somehow, life wouldn’t wait for him to figure things out. He had to try. Even if it was at a place called Last Chance.

He pushed open the door, hearing the little bell ring, announcing his entrance. The place was so quiet that the sound seemed to echo in the emptiness. As Warren had expected, no one was in sight. He let out a low, almost scornful laugh, twirling his car keys in his fingers before slipping them into his pocket. "This place looks like it’s been forgotten," he thought, feeling an odd sense of discomfort, but he knew there was no choice but to press on.

“Is anyone here?” he shouted, hoping no one would answer. That way, he could just turn around and leave this bizarre place behind, a bad judgment call.

The silence lingered for a few seconds, but no answer came. With nothing else to do, he shrugged and began walking through the narrow aisles. Hands in his pockets, Warren scanned the area, his eyes sharp, looking for any sign of a security camera. No security in this place? Typical. He gave a crooked smile, and as he passed a shelf, he grabbed a chocolate bar and slipped it into his pocket with a quick, almost natural motion.

"Why are you stealing?" The sudden, sharp voice of a child cut through the air, making Warren jump back, knocking the candy off the shelf. They fell to the floor with a small clatter, creating an absurd scene. "Shit, that scared the hell out of me."

"Jesus, kid. Where did you..." He muttered, instinctively raising his fist, as if it were an automatic reaction, but quickly lowering it when he saw the child. It was just a little boy, there was no way he could hit someone that young. "I wasn’t stealing, man. I was just saving it to pay later."

"Luke, who are you talking to?" Her voice came in soft but firm. Warren turned, his eyes widening, and there you were: so beautiful, it almost seemed out of place in this dead-end town. You appeared so suddenly he barely had time to process it.

"Talking to this guy who was..." The little boy began to reply, but you interrupted him with a calm smile.

"Warren Lipka." He quickly introduced himself, extending his hand to you. He wanted to make a good impression, or at least seem less pathetic than he felt. "I’m here for the job interview they said was going on."

You paused for a moment, then let out a short laugh, gentler than he expected. "Oh, you’re Warren, I should’ve guessed." You shook his hand politely, with a confidence he couldn’t even pretend to have. Then, with a motherly gesture, you turned back to the boy, who was still staring curiously at Warren.

You bent down and kissed the boy on the top of his head, the gesture so natural, like it was something you did every day. Afterward, you turned and started walking toward a door behind the cashier. "Come on, or are you going to steal another chocolate?" You asked, your voice laced with light teasing. Warren almost wanted to bury himself right then and there, embarrassed for being caught.

"How..." He began to ask, unsure of what exactly to say.

"Hidden camera," you explained, flashing a mischievous smile. You watched as he began scanning the room with his eyes, trying to piece together what had just happened. "I’ll show you later. Now come on."

With one last glance around the place, Warren, still confused and wearing an awkward smile, followed you to the door.

The room revealed was simple, with white walls and a large shelf on one side covered in folders and a few books—most of them children’s books, others Warren couldn’t identify, but from the titles, he could tell they were probably boring. You gestured for him to sit, and then took a seat across the desk. Warren distractedly looked at the small photo on the desk: the little boy outside, smiling beside you in a park filled with trees. Their smiles, so natural, reflected a moment of happiness.

"You two look alike." Warren started the conversation, pointing at the photo with one hand while the other fiddled in his pocket.

"They say he has my eyes. But I think it’s the hair, maybe the shape of the face." You smiled softly, stretching your neck to look at the photo more closely, the movement light and effortless.

"Maybe it’s the eyes. They really do look like yours." Warren said, shaking his head with a somewhat awkward smile. "You’re a really great older sister."

You let out a soft laugh, masking a smile that slipped out for just a moment. "Thanks, but Luke’s my son."

Warren froze, his jaw dropping at the revelation. He widened his eyes, unable to believe it, then quickly disguised his shock, putting his hands to his mouth like he was trying to wipe the look of disbelief off his face. "Now it all makes sense," he murmured, unaware of how visibly stunned he was.

"What?" You asked, raising an eyebrow, curious.

"I’ve never seen a sibling so affectionate. I used to fight with mine all the time." Warren laughed, still in disbelief, furrowing his brow casually as if trying to make the moment less awkward.

"Really? I had Luke when I was really young, 18 years old to be exact." You added, your hands folding on the table, your expression now more serious, as if you were sharing a piece of your story.

"Damn. God, I’m sorry. Shit, I feel like such an idiot now." Warren muttered, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable.

"It’s fine. You don’t need to get nervous." You quickly reassured him, your voice calm and soothing. You leaned forward slightly, as if trying to show empathy for him in that moment.

"And I even called you beautiful. Shit, I’m really not cut out for this." Warren placed his hands on his head, leaning on the table with a heavy sigh. He lifted his eyes to you, his gaze now loaded with guilt. "You think your husband would kill me if he knew?"

"Maybe he would, if I had one." You joked, tilting your head lightly in a playful way, trying to ease the tension in the air. Warren noticed a slight sadness in your voice that didn’t go unnoticed, but for some reason, he decided not to bring it up.

You sighed, straightening your posture and sitting up straighter as if shifting the conversation. "Alright. You’re hired."

"What? Already? What about the interview..." He paused, scratching his head, visibly surprised at how quickly the decision had been made.

"You were hired the moment you walked through that door." You laughed softly, stretching in your chair casually. "Not many people make it out here."

"No wonder. A dump like this..." He scoffed, mocking the place, but his eyes widened when he realized what he’d just said. "Oh my god. Again. Shit, I just say the dumbest stuff. Sorry."

"Don’t worry about it. It really is a dump." You laughed, getting up and walking around the table with light steps. Out of nowhere, you surprised him with a quick, almost warm hug that left Warren feeling momentarily disoriented. "Welcome, Warren."

"Thanks. I won’t let you down." He said, offering a weak smile, but mentally cursing himself for noticing how good you smelled as you pulled away. The feeling of being an idiot didn’t leave his chest.

Warren opened the door for you, and you gave him a gentle smile, your eyes sparkling with a kind of genuine warmth. He followed right behind you, closing the door with a soft click, breathing deeply as he watched you walk through the market, seemingly immersed in something only you knew. He wondered if it was something related to the boy’s father or if you were just worried about something missing from the shelves.

"Did you pay for the chocolate?" Little Luke inquired, a confused expression plastered on his face.

"How old are you, kid?" Warren questioned, furrowing his brow, briefly glancing at you before returning his gaze to the boy.

"Seven. But I’m almost eight. In nine months and thirteen days." Luke declared proudly, crossing his arms like an adult.

"Weird kid." Warren thought to himself, silently laughing at the little one with big, curious eyes. Something about him seemed strangely familiar. So he pulled a dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to the boy. Maybe it was a desire to please you or to apologize to the kid. "Here. It’s for the chocolate."

"It’s $2.35. You’re short $1.35." Luke blinked, extending his hand toward him.

"Oh, kid. Just take the dollar and be quiet, alright? I’m struggling here." Warren hissed at the boy, but instead of crying, the little one just smiled.

"You’re weird. I like you." He chuckled, a funny, purely childlike melody echoing through the small space of the market.

Something warmed in Warren’s chest as he watched that toothless smile. The thought of being a dedicated father flooded his mind, creating false scenarios of an idealized life – a family smiling, him hugging his wife, holding his son in his arms, walking him to school, giving him a dog, teaching him how to shoot. Damn, he’d do anything to be the best dad for Luke, and it wouldn’t even be just because he wanted to win over the beautiful mom from the market. That was the one thing missing from his life, maybe that’s why he was born.

"If you start today, I can give you a tip." Your voice, breaking the idealized moment, brought Warren back to reality. He was an ex-convict, semi-in-love with a single mom, and still trying to figure out if any of this even made sense.

"You don’t have to. I can help." He tried to hide the silly smile that was about to appear, taking the uniform you handed him.

"I insist. The salary’s not great, and you’re practically the only employee here." You remarked, with that radiant smile Warren had already memorized. The sincerity in your tone was palpable.

"No, seriously. Don’t worry about it. It’ll be a pleasure working with you." He stated without thinking, quickly clearing his throat with a small gesture. "Working with you. You get it."

"Yes. Thanks. I owe you one." You waved your hand, heading back to the room with Luke happily trailing behind you, both walking away while Warren stood there, eyes fixed, his heart still beating harder than usual.

"Alright… time to work." Warren stretched lazily, raising his arms above his head before shuffling toward the employee bathroom.

The space was small and functional, a far cry from the public restroom, which for some reason, was absurdly large and had a strange smell that didn’t leave, even with air freshener. He grabbed the uniform you had given him—a yellow shirt with the store’s name printed on the front. Since there were no pants in the package, he decided his own would do the trick.

When he came out of the bathroom, he closed the door with a quiet click and, with a swift motion, tied his hair in a tiny ponytail. He walked to the register, where you were already standing with a notebook in hand. The moment you heard his footsteps, you looked up.

"Looks good on you." Your tone was kind as you pointed to the shirt identical to yours. He hadn’t even noticed when you had changed—maybe it was when you went into the back room.

"Now we match, look." The voice emerged from behind him. Luke appeared beside him, wearing the same uniform, which, even in the smallest size, was still too big for his tiny frame.

"Yeah, kid. Now we’re coworkers. A real man." Warren smiled and lowered his hand for a high five with the boy, who tried to slap it with all his might.

"Wow. You’re strong. You gonna tell me you’ve been training secretly?"

"I train. I watch fight videos on YouTube." Luke replied proudly, striking a boxing guard pose.

"Luke, we’ve talked about this." Your voice came with a warning tone as you approached.

"Ah, mom. I don’t watch blood. Only sometimes." He pouted indignantly, and you tilted your head before pinching his nose with two fingers.

"Ow, mom!"

"Didn’t see that coming, huh?" Warren chuckled without thinking, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment longer than necessary. In the brief silence that followed, something in his expression made his heart skip a beat. Warren Lipka didn’t seem like the dangerous criminal from the TV—just a guy with a big heart and an intensity that even he didn’t realize he had.

“Yeah... we have a routine.” You cleared your throat, shaking off the unnecessarily sweet thoughts and handing the sheet over to him. “Monday is deep cleaning day, Saturday we count the stock. I’m here at 8 AM every day, except Thursday, when I pick up Luke from his grandparents’ house and drop him off at school. I get here at 10 AM that day. The rest is pretty easy, not much movement. Here, take this to memorize.”

“Got it.” Warren took the notebook, noticing how detailed your notes were.

“Today is Wednesday. You’ll be in the deli section.”

“Just checking expiration dates?”

“Yep. Luke usually helps me, but today he has homework.”

“Can I stay with Warren first?” Luke inquired, his eyes shining with expectation.

You gave an indulgent smile before raising an eyebrow. “Promise you won’t fight with your classmates at school tomorrow?”

“I promise.” He nodded firmly and raised his pinky. “But only tomorrow.”

Warren let out a low chuckle, and you gave him a playful disapproving look.

“Don’t encourage him.”

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.” He laughed even harder, covering his mouth with his hand. “Let’s go, Luke. Let’s see if this meat is still good. Did you know that a lot of good meat gets thrown away here in the US? I used to collect it.”

“Seriously?” Luke’s eyes widened as he walked alongside him to the refrigerators.

“Yeah. I’d go to markets like this one and take the ones that were still good.” Warren opened the fridge and started checking the labels. Then he paused, blinking as if realizing too late what he’d just said. “…But don’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s wrong.” He tried to hold back his laughter but failed miserably. “Hey, what do you think of this one?” He picked up a steak package and held it up for Luke to see.

“I think it’s still good to freeze. It’s got 10 days left.”

“A deal, then. 50% off this stuff that’s about to expire.” Warren shrugged, smiling and tossing the package back into the freezer.

…

Warren paced restlessly back and forth in their usual café, his hands moving nervously, his nails gnawed down to the quick, until a small piece of nail polish chipped off. He could feel a tightness in his chest, as if he were about to burst. His body swayed back and forth, his gaze locked on the clock on the wall, the anxiety consuming him. The weight of the conversation he was about to have was crushing his mind. When he finally saw Spencer walk through the door, the relief was instant, but it didn’t ease his nerves. His snack, the one he’d ordered earlier, lay forgotten on the table, untouched. He didn’t even notice it was still there.

Spencer greeted a few people in the café with a disinterested wave before walking over to the table. He sat down, casually tossing his backpack into the chair beside him, and extended his hand to shake Warren's.

“I want to be a stepdad.” Warren blurted out, not wasting a moment, before Spencer had a chance to say anything. The words came out fast, clinging to his chest like gum, almost as if the pressure had reached a point where it could no longer be ignored.

"Hey, how’s it going, Spencer? How’s work? Good. Thanks." Spencer mocked, rolling his eyes at Warren’s approach. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "We haven’t talked in two weeks, and that’s the first thing out of your mouth?"

Warren didn’t care about the teasing. His mind was already fixated on what he had to say. "It’s been two weeks since I met my son." He slammed his hand on the table with conviction, the slap of his palm echoing in the otherwise quiet café. The tension in his body was palpable now, his shoulders tight. He quickly ran a hand through his disheveled hair and pulled a nicotine lozenge from his pocket, placing it in his mouth almost mechanically.

"Since when are you quitting smoking?" Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow, an almost amused smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to grab one of the lozenges and popped it into his own mouth.

"Since I realized innocent people suffer from the crap smokers exhale," Warren replied in a serious tone, biting down harder on the snack, the crunch almost matching the stress he was feeling. "I saw it in the paper."

Spencer frowned, skeptical, but chose not to comment. Instead, he flagged down the waitress to put in an order. The conversation was starting to take a curious turn, and he didn’t want to miss his chance to figure out what was really going on with his friend. The café bell rang, and suddenly, Eric appeared at the door, casually waving to the crowd before heading straight to the table.

"Hey, guys." Eric greeted, throwing himself into a chair and locking eyes with Warren.

"Warren wants to be a stepdad." Spencer said, his tone bored, hiding a smirk of irony, and Warren smiled broadly, relieved to finally say it out loud. It was a mix of nervousness and excitement he couldn’t quite suppress.

"Dude, that’s a bad idea." Eric shook his head, disapproval written all over his face. He leaned forward slightly, as if preparing to explain himself seriously. "Those things never work out. Once you get attached to the mom, she’s never gonna let you go. You’ll regret it."

"That’s sexist, Eric." Warren hissed, grabbing Spencer’s coffee cup and taking a sip without caring that it was someone else’s drink. He knew he was breaking the unspoken rules of the café, but he needed something—anything—to relieve the pressure building inside. "And what’s wrong with her getting attached? I like her."

"When’s her birthday?" Eric shot back, his voice relentless, eyes narrowing as if he were conducting an interrogation.

"I don’t know." Warren replied quickly, but a hint of doubt crept in.

"And the kid’s?" Eric pressed, staring at Warren, waiting for a response.

"Wait, I remember, he told me..." Warren trailed off, trying to recall the details.

"What’s her favorite color, and why is it blue?" Eric fired again, a mocking edge in his tone.

"That’s not the point!" Warren snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation, his frustration growing. "I don’t know, man. It’s the way she looks at me. Her and that weird kid. The little pest knows everything, he rattles off stuff I don’t even know. He answered 37 + 53 like it was nothing."

"90." Eric responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"That doesn't count, you're a robot." Warren muttered, shaking the snack bag with frustration as he glared at Spencer. He noticed the bag was almost empty. "No, seriously. The kid’s really smart. I know he’s not mine and everything. But I’d make an effort. He has the same nose as me."

"Alright, you're stretching it a bit now." Spencer warned, his voice taking on a serious tone as he finished his coffee with a sigh, setting the empty cup on the table. "What about the job?"

"Tiring. I lift boxes, stack them, store everything. I do almost everything. She helps with cleaning and sometimes takes the register when I'm organizing the fridges. The kid helps her with the change. Everyone who passes by loves him."

"Hmmm. Sounds good." Eric shrugged as the waitress approached with a new order, and he gave a distracted thumbs-up.

"What made you change your mind?" Spencer asked, his curiosity piqued as he looked at Warren with more intensity, his eyebrows raised in genuine interest.

"She’s a hard worker. Women like that are strong. She’s probably fought hard to get this far." Eric spoke with an almost knowing conviction, his tone calm but determined. "Just don’t screw it up, Warren."

"Now it’s my fault?" Warren defended himself, shaking his head in frustration as he stood up from the table, stepping back slightly while slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Where are you going?" Spencer looked up, concern now evident on his face.

"Home. I need to get some sleep for work tomorrow. See you guys." Warren replied quickly, his movements hurried, shoulders tight as he turned to leave. The tension still hung in the air, but he needed a moment alone to process everything.

Rule #2: (Try) Not to Stick Your Nose in Other People’s Business.

Warren woke up earlier than usual that morning. He felt surprisingly energized, a rare occurrence, so he made sure to take a proper shower before heading out for work. He knew that today was one of those days you tended to be late, so he planned to take care of everything until you arrived.

As he parked the car in front of the shop, his eyes immediately found you sitting on the doorstep, shoulders slumped, hands pressing against your head. Something was off. His chest tightened at the sight. You looked... desperate.

His brows furrowed slightly, and Warren stepped out of the car, walking toward you with measured steps, trying not to invade your space too abruptly.

"Hey, are you okay?" His voice was low, cautious, as if afraid of startling you.

You quickly lifted your face, eyes misty, and your chest rose and fell unevenly, betraying the anxiety trapped in your breathing.

"It’s Luke..." Your voice cracked, and you stood up, your hands nervously twisting in front of your chest. "My car broke down, I can't pick him up from his grandparents’ house, and it's almost time for school. He’s going to miss class, and his teacher already said he’s struggling. My brother isn’t answering, no taxis are coming, and..."

With every word, the weight in your chest grew heavier. You didn’t even notice your hands trembling until Warren gently interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

"Hey, hey." His voice was firm but kind, and without thinking much, he pulled you into an embrace.

The warmth of his body surrounded you, and the sudden gesture made your walls crumble for just a second. The woody scent of his cologne mixed with the softness of his jacket fabric made you realize how tense you were. Your heart, which had been pounding against your ribs, began to slow down.

"Sorry. I thought you needed this," he murmured close to your ear.

You exhaled the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and pulled back slightly, but without fully breaking the closeness.

"I did. Thank you." Your voice was steadier now, though there was still a lingering edge of panic. You quickly wiped your face with your hands, trying to erase the traces of tears. "Sorry for unloading all this on you, I’m just... desperate."

Warren tilted his head slightly, watching you closely, as if he were analyzing every layer of your nervousness before speaking.

"Where’s his grandparents’ house?" His voice was resolute, like he had already made up his mind.

You blinked a few times, confused by the sudden question.

"What?"

He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, taking a deep breath before repeating himself.

"Where’s Luke’s address? I’ll go pick him up."

You froze for a moment, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. Your instincts told you to refuse — he was just your employee, he didn’t need to get involved. But the desperation pressing down on you was heavier than the pride that wanted to hold you back.

"You’d do that?"

The smile that appeared on Warren’s lips was small, but genuine, his dimples barely visible as he grinned. His eyes lingered on them for a moment before you realized you were smiling too, even if shyly.

"Why wouldn’t I?" He raised an eyebrow, as though genuinely finding your hesitation puzzling.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Your chest warmed in a strange way.

"Come on. Let’s go." He gestured toward the car.

"And the shop?"

"Ah, no one comes here at this time anyway." He chuckled, as if the place was his to command. And for a moment, you found yourself wishing it was.

Warren walked around the car and opened the passenger door, waiting patiently for you to get in before closing it carefully with a swift motion. He settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The silence stretched for a few seconds. You were still tense, biting your lower lip, trying to hold onto the last threads of control. Warren noticed and, without saying a word, turned on the radio. A loud rock song blasted through the speakers.

"Shit." He muttered, quickly lowering the volume and switching stations.

The sensual melody of Careless Whisper filled the car.

"Goddamn radio." He grumbled again, spinning the dial hastily. This time, soft instrumental music filled the air. "Better," he said, leaning back into his seat and relaxing.

You chuckled quietly. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For this." You gestured vaguely at the radio and at him. Warren cast a quick glance in your direction before returning his focus to the road.

"Do you like the job?" You asked, trying to ease the weight of the moment, your fingers nervously tapping on the edge of the seat.

"Yeah, actually, I’m pretty attached to it. I think it was my last chance to be a decent citizen." He said with a playful smile, his eyes momentarily glancing at you before turning back to the road.

You tilted your head slightly, studying his profile for a beat, the soft tension in the air palpable.

"Do you like it just for that?" Your question came out more curious than you’d intended, a little more pointed than you planned.

Warren gripped the steering wheel with one hand, using the other to run through his hair, the hint of a mysterious smile curling at the corners of his lips.

"There are other reasons too."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly turned your gaze to the window, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. You weren't sure why, but the way he said it unsettled you, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

"What about you? Do you like your job?"

You let out a soft, nasal laugh, tilting your head back slightly. "Being the manager of a run-down market wasn’t exactly my childhood dream."

Warren chuckled through his nose, shaking his head in amusement. "How’d you end up there?"

Your smile faltered slightly, and you took a deep breath before answering.

"Well... I got pregnant with Luke."

The atmosphere in the car shifted subtly. Warren fell silent for a moment, as if processing the weight of your words, his hands firm on the wheel, eyes focused ahead.

"Do you regret it?" He asked quietly, his voice softer now, laced with genuine concern.

"In the beginning, it was hard. I didn’t have much support, just graduated high school. College seemed impossible." You glanced down at your hands resting on your lap, fingers twisting nervously. Warren nodded slowly, never looking away from the road. "But then he was born, and... everything changed. It was like my whole life suddenly had a new meaning."

Warren smiled, his thoughts clearly drifting to Luke. And as he did, he realized something interesting: his smile was almost identical to the boy's. That same genuine sparkle in his eyes, a light untouched by time, despite all the struggles life had thrown their way. Without thinking, Warren’s own smile softened, mirroring the one he had just seen.

"Can I ask you about his dad, or would that be too intrusive?" Warren’s voice was gentle now, eyes fixed on you, the concern clear in his gaze.

"No... no, it’s not intrusive." You shook your head, a quiet sigh escaping your lips. "Luke's dad is complicated. He was a great father in the first few months, but then he started saying that Luke was getting in the way of his career."

"What a jerk." Warren spat without thinking, his jaw tightening in indignation. He frowned, immediately realizing his own boldness. "Sorry."

"No... jerk is too mild a word." You shot back, your tone still sharp, but softened by the vulnerability that lingered beneath it. Warren relaxed his shoulders, relieved that he hadn’t crossed a line. "When he said that, I couldn’t take it anymore and ended it. Since then, it’s just been me and Luke. I ended up raising him alone with the help of my parents. Luke doesn’t even know who he is. I prefer it that way. If he asks about him in the future, I’ll tell him, but not now. I’m still angry about it, though."

Warren nodded slowly, processing your words, his expression softening with understanding. For a moment, the only sound in the car was the hum of the engine and the distant rumble of tires on the road.

Finally, Warren let out a small, knowing smile, his gaze gentle.

"I may not know much about you guys, but Luke is a really cool kid." Warren’s voice held a genuine tone of admiration. "Not many seven-year-olds can count the days until their own birthday."

"You really think so?" Your eyes lit up at the question, and a soft smile crept onto your lips, the warmth spreading across your face.

"Of course. The kid’s a little terrifying sometimes, I’ll admit." Warren teased, making you laugh out loud. "Seriously, I get freaked out when he starts doing mental math."

"He’s the best in his class at math." You said, the pride evident in your voice.

Warren rolled his eyes dramatically, his expression playful. "Of course he is. That kid’s going places. He’s going to be the next Einstein, and they’ll write books about him. Mark my words."

You laughed again, and Warren held onto that sound, savoring it, like it was a melody he didn’t want to forget. The sound was infectious, and his chest swelled with an unfamiliar warmth.

"He sounds like my brother. He was always super smart, too. Top of his class, just like Luke. He’s the one who owns the market and helped me get this job. That’s how I ended up there."

"So it’s in the genes."

"Maybe." You fell quiet for a moment, absentmindedly running your fingers through your hair, a warm feeling blooming in your chest. Your thoughts drifted as you absentmindedly added, "Does he have a girlfriend?"

The question came out casually, but it hung in the air with an unexpected weight, more serious than you’d intended.

"Me?" Warren raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. He let out a surprised laugh, his face lit up with disbelief. When you nodded, he shook his head, still laughing. "That’s a good one."

"Why?" You chuckled, leaning slightly towards him. "What’s wrong with that? You’re good-looking, charming, funny. There must be someone."

Warren snorted, resting his elbow against the car window, the air suddenly a little heavier. "Oh, yeah, sure, women love a former convict who can’t even afford a Coke." His voice had a mocking tone, but there was something beneath the sarcasm—a hint of self-deprecation that made your chest tighten with empathy.

"No... no one." He answered quietly, his gaze now fixed on the road ahead. "What about you?"

"No…" Your response came out almost hesitantly, and for a brief moment, a flicker of hope danced in your mind before you pushed it aside.

The conversation fell into a heavy silence, the kind that lingered like a thick fog between you. You could feel the change in the air, the tension that wasn’t quite palpable but couldn’t be ignored either. You silently thanked the universe that you were close to your destination. As Warren parked the car, you quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out, eager to escape the weight of your own thoughts before they dragged you deeper into uncertainty.

You hurried up to the door, your hand moving quickly to press the doorbell without hesitation. Warren followed closely behind, stopping a step back, his body still tense, his eyes scanning the surroundings as if ready for something unexpected.

The door swung open.

And then, your blood ran cold.

"Daniel?" Your voice came out as a strained rasp, barely a whisper, your face draining of color instantly.

The man standing there, with his captivating green eyes and a charming smile, widened the door to let you in. "I was really hoping to talk to you. Come on in."

He then looked at Warren, sizing him up with a quick, calculating glance before extending his hand. "Hey, man. How’s it going? I'm Daniel Beavers, but you can call me Dan."

Warren held his gaze for a second longer than necessary, his jaw tightening, before he shook Daniel's hand with deliberate firmness. "Warren." His voice was cold, the warmth and ease from earlier gone completely.

Daniel laughed, a little too loudly. "Damn, you’re strong." He gave Warren a friendly slap on the back, but Warren didn’t flinch, keeping his expression neutral, only offering a polite smile before stepping inside.

Once out of Daniel’s line of sight, Warren leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, his breath brushing your ear. "Who’s that guy?"

You swallowed hard, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor for a moment before your voice barely escaped your lips, a whisper heavy with discomfort. "Luke’s father."

Warren went silent for a beat, his body stiffening as though the weight of your words had struck him physically. His chest tightened, and his next words came out as a low, almost inaudible murmur. "Shit."

Without thinking, his body straightened, as if some primal instinct had taken over. His shoulders subtly broadened, and he instinctively positioned himself a bit closer to you, as if shielding you from whatever lay ahead. The gesture was so natural, so automatic, it was almost like he was becoming a human barrier.

He didn’t have the right to interfere.

But something inside him screamed that he should.

“Hi, mom!”

Luke’s cheerful voice shattered the tense silence in the room. The little boy appeared, his backpack already slung over his shoulders, running to hug you before turning to Warren with a bright, wide smile.

"Warren!" he exclaimed, launching himself into Warren’s legs for a tight hug.

"Hey, little man. Hope I didn’t take too long." Warren grinned, gently messing up Luke’s hair.

Luke pulled away, furrowing his brow. "What happened? I thought you weren’t gonna come."

"The car broke down, buddy. Warren’s gonna take you to school." You explained, maintaining a smile, though out of the corner of your eye, you couldn’t ignore the way Daniel was watching the scene, his gaze quiet and calculating.

"Cool!" Luke cheered, raising his hand for a high-five with Warren. "Can I sit in the front?"

"Not this time, kiddo." Warren pretended to sound disappointed, crouching down to meet his eyes with a playful expression. "But next time, I promise."

"Okay." Luke whispered, clapping his hands excitedly.

You glanced around the room, feeling the house unusually quiet. "Where are your grandparents?"

"They went to the market. They’re planning a party for Daniel. For some celebration." Luke answered innocently, not noticing the way your shoulders tensed at the mention of Daniel’s name.

You inhaled deeply, trying to keep your composure. "Alright, let’s go. Luke’s gonna be late. It was nice seeing you, Daniel." The falseness of your smile was clear, but it was a necessary mask.

"Wait." Daniel stepped closer, pulling a shiny gold envelope with navy blue details from his pocket. He extended it toward you, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "I didn’t even tell you the big news."

Your stomach churned before you even looked at the contents.

"Daniel and Honey?" Your voice came out low, almost incredulous.

"I’m inviting you to my wedding." He announced as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "You can bring Warren too. It’d be great to have you both with us. Honey really wants to meet you."

Daniel then pulled out a smaller piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Warren, who hesitated for a moment before reluctantly taking it.

You laughed—not out of happiness, but out of pure disgust. "Yeah, Daniel. You really outdo yourself every day." You stuffed the invitation into your pocket without a second thought.

"It’ll be great to have you there." He softened his voice, his hand making an almost theatrical gesture as it brushed your arm. "Please, sweetheart…"

The silence was thick, suffocating.

Warren watched the scene unfold like a predator studying its prey. His jaw was clenched tight, and his fists were subtly balled at his sides, barely contained by the tension in his body. Something inside him had already pegged Daniel as a fool, but seeing this whole act up close... that was too much. His protective instincts kicked in.

He couldn’t hold back any longer.

"Dude, what’s up with this? Don’t you think this is a little weird?" Warren broke the silence, his voice a low growl that drew every eye in the room to him. His tone came out rougher than he intended, but at that moment, he didn’t care to hide his feelings.

Daniel blinked, genuinely confused by Warren’s reaction. "Weird? Why would it be weird?"

That question only fueled the fire inside Warren.

"Don’t you realize how completely bizarre it is to invite your ex to your wedding without even giving a heads-up? You abandoned this kid, and now you show up years later like everything’s fine?" Warren narrowed his eyes, his muscles visibly tensing as his posture became more aggressive, as if he was ready to jump at any moment.

Daniel let out a nervous laugh, trying to downplay the situation with a dismissive gesture. "Relax, man. I just thought… I don’t know. We’d be good friends. Didn’t know she was already seeing someone again." He shrugged, giving you and Warren a mischievous look, as if he was enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

The statement caught Warren off guard for a moment, making his eyes narrow even further, but he quickly recovered, his expression hardening. "Yeah. Exactly." He reaffirmed without hesitation, crossing his arms firmly. "And even if she wasn’t, you can’t just keep popping in and out of people’s lives like it’s a game. Look at yourself. How old are you?"

Daniel was slightly thrown off, the first crack in his confidence showing in his hesitation. "Twenty-seven."

Warren let out a dry laugh, almost sarcastically. "Twenty-seven." He repeated, savoring the irony of the situation. Then, he stepped forward, forcing Daniel to retreat until his back hit the wall. The intensity of Warren’s presence was palpable. "Listen, man to man. I’m thirty-one. But I had a grip on things long before that."

The discomfort on Daniel's face was unmistakable. He tried to recover his posture, but Warren wasn’t letting him off the hook.

"Alright, man. No need to get all upset or rude." Daniel hissed, attempting to regain his composure as he pushed lightly against Warren’s chest. Warren instantly lifted a fist, ready for any reaction.

It was only then that he remembered you and Luke were still there, silently observing the scene. Warren took a deep breath, cracked his neck, and relaxed his shoulders before speaking in a more controlled voice, though still firm. "Stay out of our lives again, alright?"

Then, with a sharp smile, he straightened Daniel’s perfectly aligned suit jacket as if he were adjusting a porcelain doll, his touch almost mocking. "Are you a lawyer?"

"Yeah." Daniel replied automatically, quickly wiping where Warren had gripped him, trying to salvage his composure.

"I hate that kind." Warren muttered between his teeth, his gaze hardening, but he quickly turned to you, softening his expression. He gave you a more serene smile, almost affectionate. "Shall we go, babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat at hearing him say “babe.” Not out of fear, but because, in that moment, you realized something different. The way Warren said it felt... right. As though he had claimed a piece of you without even realizing it.

"For sure." You smiled, your eyes softening as you started walking toward the door. But then you stopped, turned around, and walked back to Daniel with steady steps.

Without hurrying, you took the invitation from your pocket with a smooth motion and extended it to him, without any emotional appeal. "Keep it for someone who actually wants to go. Best wishes!" Your voice was sweet, but the sarcasm beneath it was impossible to ignore. Every word carried a subtle criticism, something you could no longer hide.

Daniel stood there, frozen, holding the invitation as if he had finally realized it was irrelevant to you, his expression draining of any confidence he had left as the reality hit him. He was out of place. And that seemed clear to everyone in the room.

Warren opened the door for you to pass, but before you stepped out, he gave Daniel one last threatening glance. A silent, but clear, warning.

You both walked toward the car, no longer needing to hide the smile on your faces. The tension from the earlier conversation still hung in the air, but somehow, the whole situation seemed to have brought you even closer.

"Alright, all set..." Warren murmured as he buckled Luke's seatbelt in the back seat. "Now, school."

He was already turning to head to the driver's seat when Luke's curious little voice caught you both off guard:

"Are you and mommy dating?"

The silence that followed was instant. You and Warren froze for a second before exchanging a knowing glance.

Warren raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well... I'm a pretty nosy guy," he said, looking directly at you before turning to Luke. "So, I guess we are."

He twisted the key in the ignition, but before pulling away, he cast a quick glance your way. "Is this alright with you? Us... this."

The question came without hesitation, but with a genuine undertone of concern. You held your breath for a moment, feeling the weight of the silent exchange between you two. Then, you smiled. Not just any smile, but one of those effortless, warm, and real smiles.

"Great." You replied, feeling a lightness in your chest.

He studied your face for a second longer than necessary, as if he wanted to lock that expression in his memory. Then, he nodded, a small smile forming at the corner of his lips.

"Great." He repeated, turning his attention back to the road before accelerating, as if the whole world had just fallen back into place.

Rule #3: Your friends aren’t always right.

After school, you drove to the grocery store. The car’s engine hummed softly before going silent as you turned the key in the ignition. The sound of the seatbelt undoing echoed in the silence between you. You opened the door and climbed out, unlocking the passenger door without looking back. Warren stepped out soon after, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, his gaze scanning the storefront as if something was different, even though everything looked exactly the same.

Inside, the muffled sound of an old radio played some generic music as you made your way to the checkout. Warren, on the other hand, detoured to the warehouse, his steps slower than usual. The smell of dust and cardboard filled his nostrils as he entered. The shelves were crammed, the boxes stacked chaotically, as usual. But Warren didn’t care about any of that. 

He just needed a moment here, alone, to gather his thoughts. 

With a heavy sigh, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, unfolding it with trembling fingers. His gaze ran over the words written there—how many times had he read them?—but before he could get lost in his own thoughts, the creak of the door opening made him quickly shove the paper back into his pocket.

"Can I come in?" Your voice sounded hesitant, head peeking through the crack in the door. He blinked a few times before forcing a smile. 

"Of course you can. You own the place." He gestured with his hand, a relaxed movement, but his shoulders remained tense. 

You walked in, closing the door behind you, the dry sound of wood echoing through the small space. Your eyes wandered around the warehouse for a second before returning to Warren, who was now swinging his foot on the floor, his right hand still deep in his pocket. 

"I just came to say..." You began, walking slowly towards him. "Thank you for what you did today." 

He let out a short, humorless laugh, looking away from you to the floor. "Oh, that?" His shoulders lifted in a casual gesture. "It was nothing. In fact, I think I was kind of stupid." 

"No." Your answer came out firm, quick, taking him by surprise. You cleared your throat, trying to soften your tone. "It wasn't stupid. It was... it was really good. Really helpful. I lost my mind, I didn't know what to do in that situation. He was such an asshole." 

Warren tilted his head to the side, watching your expression for a moment before asking, "Has he always been like this?" 

You let out a tired sigh, leaning against the wall behind you. "I guess he always has. I just didn't want to notice." 

"That sucks." He muttered, biting the inside of his cheek. After a second of hesitation, he walked over to stand next to you, leaning against the wall as well. "I guess we always have that in life. Not realizing the right person was right there." 

You frowned, lifting your chin with a hint of indignation in your voice. "Why do we do this, huh? All the signs were there. The way he ignored me, how I had to ask him to the school dance..." 

Warren turned his face towards you, blinking slowly. "You asked him to the school dance and not the other way around?" 

"Yeah! Can you believe that?" You huffed, crossing your arms. "He said he forgot! When we were picking out my dress the night before!" 

Warren closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh before muttering, "What an idiot." He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling, the fluorescent light above casting soft shadows on his face. With a slow movement, he licked his lips before speaking again. "I would never do that to you."

Your chest tightened, your breath catching for a second. 

"What do you mean by that?" Your voice came out low, almost reluctant.

He pressed his teeth against his cheek, looking away to the floor, as if seeking courage there. When he finally looked back at you, his expression was more serious.

 "I would never treat you like that." His voice was firm, but there was a certain hesitation in his gaze. "I'm not exactly a good guy, you know that. But I’d never leave you hanging like that."

"Really?" You leaned your head against the wall, still looking at him, your fingers tightening the hem of your blouse with an unconscious reflex of nervousness.

Warren nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips, almost as if he was amused by your reaction. You snorted and went back to staring at the ceiling. The silence that followed was almost palpable. Your breathing seemed to echo in the small warehouse, while the dust danced in the air under the yellowish light.

"Oh my God..." The laugh came low, exhaled along with a sigh.

"What?" He frowned, but the corner of his mouth still carried a trace of amusement.

"Now I want to go to Daniel's wedding with you just so he can see that I'm okay." You admitted, covering your face with your hands, feeling the heat rise to your ears. "That's so immature. I'm such an idiot."

Warren let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, come on, I don't care." Without hesitation, he took another step towards you, leaning in slightly as he gently removed your hands from your face. "I still have a password, we can say it's yours and that I'm following."

"No, Warren... That's not right." You protested, but the lightness of laughter was still present in your voice. "I'd be using you and that's so wrong..."

"Do it. I just don't want you to look like that because of that idiot." His voice lowered slightly, seriousness seeping into his tone.

"He doesn't deserve even a second of your emotions, of anything you have to offer. So use me. Do whatever you think is best, because you have a hard enough life to worry about anything else and I'm willing to do anything to help you."

Your heart stumbled in your chest when you felt his warm touch against your wrists. Warren gently lowered them, letting his hands rest on either side of your body. The space between you was decreasing with each passing second without anyone making an effort to break it.

He bit his lower lip, his gaze flickering between your mouth and your eyes. You felt your breath catch at the realization, heat rising in your stomach, in your cheeks. Your own attention followed suit—his lips, then his brown eyes, intense, filled with something unsaid but completely understood. The atmosphere was heavy in a way that seemed impossible to ignore.

Warren's heart hammered against his ribs as he raised one hand, bracing it on the wall beside you. The other still held yours. The space between your bodies slowly disappeared. He leaned toward you, his lashes lowering as your faces came closer, your breath mingling.

Then, the doorbell rang.

The sound cut through the moment like a sharp blade, making you both pull away in an instant. You took a step back, your chest rising and falling with your ragged breaths. Warren ran a hand through his hair, staring at the ceiling as if cursing the universe.

"I better... you know... go outside." He nodded, his voice thick with something that sounded like disappointment.

You nodded, crossing your arms over your body as if that could contain the wave of feelings that were stirring inside you. He hesitated for a moment before leaving, closing the door behind him. But he didn't leave right away—Warren leaned his back against the wood for a few seconds, exhaling slowly, trying to regain control. Only then did he pull away and walk to the cashier.

You stood there for a few more moments, your fingertips brushing your lips, as if trying to feel something that had never happened.

If you had kissed... would it have been wrong? Or was the doorbell a signal not to?

You shook your head, muttering "Stop it" to yourself, trying to push the thought away. But the knot in your chest was still there as you left the warehouse and headed back to the market.

Across the way, Warren was handing over the customer’s groceries with automatic movements, but his mind was elsewhere. When his eyes met yours, for just a second, something flared again—a question, an uncertainty, a regret.

Without saying anything, you looked away and walked into the office, busying yourself with anything that felt like work. You needed to distract yourself, needed to convince yourself that this didn’t mean anything.

The customer left, and Warren stood behind the register, still holding the last bag as if he’d forgotten to let go of it. His mind raced in circles, trying to find a way to talk about what had almost happened. To tell him how he felt without ruining everything.

He walked slowly to the office door and raised his hand to knock, but hesitated. His fingers hovered over the wood for a second before curling into a fist and pulling back.

This didn’t make sense. It wasn’t supposed to happen.

And if it did, he was sure it would ruin everything.

Eric was right. It was better to just give up.

Rule #4: Don't hold back an emotion for too long, it might take over you.

The doorbell rang, and Warren didn't even need to look up to know who it was. The familiar jingle of keychains rattling in his backpack and the sweet smell of grape candies in the air were enough to recognize Luke.

"Hey, little man. How was school today?" Warren beamed, walking around the counter with lazy steps to talk to the boy.

"It was nice." Luke replied excitedly, throwing his backpack on the floor before wrapping Warren in a brief, tight hug. Soon after, he pulled away and stuck his small hand in his pants pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "Look, I made this today."

"Awesome, a frog." Warren took the green origami between his fingers, studying the careful folds. He turned the piece from side to side, smiling. "Where did you learn that?"

"On the internet, look. Come see, it jumps." Luke took it back, placed it on the counter, and pressed it lightly on the paper. The little frog jumped. "See?" 

Warren raised an eyebrow. "Boy, you're scary." He tested the frog, squeezing the paper as Luke had done, and the creature jumped again. "This is witchcraft, isn't it? You put magic in it and didn't tell me, you little brat." 

"No!" Luke laughed, shaking his head. "It's just origami. If you fold the paper the right way, it moves, like a lever." 

"I see..." Warren feigned distrust, crossing his arms. "So it's pure skill and not some dark pact?" 

Luke laughed, shaking his head. "Wanna make one?" 

"Tsk, I don't know." Warren leaned back a little, as if it were a risky challenge. "I'm pretty sure I'll ruin it before I even touch the paper." 

"Stop being a wimp." The boy, however, didn't take the refusal lying down. Luke took his hand with determination and pulled him down the hallway to the office. The air grew heavier as Warren walked through the door. 

His eyes met yours for a moment too long. Something unresolved hung in the space between you, and you both looked away almost at the same time, disguising it with silent discomfort.

 It had been a week. 

Seven days since what almost happened in the warehouse. 

Since then, conversations had been limited to short sentences about work, polite words that didn't fill the awkward silence. You spent as much time as possible in the office, while Warren remained at the cash register busy with anything other than talking to you. Always busy. The only close interaction happened when it was time to restock the shelves or when one of you left. And even then, you both avoided looking each other directly in the eyes.

"Hi, sweetheart. How was school today?" You broke the silence first, forcing a smile as Luke let go of Warren's hand and ran over to you.

"It was cool, but Warren and I are really busy right now." He explained excitedly, grabbing two sheets of paper from your desk.

"With what, exactly?" You asked, your gaze falling on Warren more than the boy.

"We're gonna make frogs." Warren answered casually, twirling the sheet between his fingers.

"Frogs?" Your brow furrowed slightly.

"Of paper, Mom." Luke rolled his eyes, as if your question was absurd. "I made one in class and now I'm going to teach Warren how to make one too. Sit here, facing Mom."

Warren hesitated, his eyes meeting yours again, almost as if he was asking for permission. You held his gaze for a second before nodding, pointing to the chair across from you. He sat down, looking guilty, shifting in his chair as Luke stood beside him, full of excitement.

"Here's how it is, follow everything I do or you'll get lost and do it all wrong." The boy began to fold the paper with precision. Warren imitated the movement, frowning in concentration.

"That's it. Now you're going to fold it here... like this."

"Okay..." Warren replicated the fold, narrowing his eyes to check if he was doing it right. "And now?"

"Do it like this, like this. Now fold it like this... Now turn it over. Don't let it get wrinkled, it has to be right. Turn it over again, fold it."

"Easy there, Luke. I'm old." Warren laughed, his hands fumbling to keep up with the boy's agile movements.

Luke snorted, but held back a smile. "You're slow, Warren."

"Hey, that was unnecessary." He made a playfully offended expression.

"Now just this one more and it's done!" Luke showed off his perfectly aligned frog, proud.

"Congratulations, honey!" You clapped your hands, amazed at your son's work. “It looks exactly like a frog. Good job.”

Warren looked at his origami, then at Luke’s. He held up his creation—a crumpled, shapeless ball—and raised his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, it looks just like mine.” 

Luke laughed loudly. You put your hand over your mouth, trying to hold back your laughter too. “Sorry, Warren. It’s just so funny.” 

“It looks like a frog that got run over!” Luke laughed, placing his hands on his stomach. 

“I know, I know. I should’ve seen that coming. You two are against me.” Warren sighed dramatically, tossing the paper ball aside. “It’s definitely not for me. I’ll leave that to the little man and his super smart mom.” 

But even though he failed miserably at origami, the smile on his face seemed genuine for the first time in a week. 

“You don’t pay attention either, Warren Sillyka!” Luke laughed, sticking his tongue out at Warren. 

“Did you see that?” Warren raised an eyebrow at you, pointing indignantly at the boy. “The kid just gave me tongue!” And without thinking twice, he returned the gesture.

"Hey!" Luke protested, grimacing and pulling the corners of his mouth with his fingers.

"Now, you little criminal..." Warren narrowed his eyes before standing up, his hands ready to attack with tickles.

"No, stop! Stop!" Luke squirmed, laughing as he tried to escape. Warren, however, was faster, grabbing him easily and lifting him in his arms, swinging him from side to side.

"Serious infraction, young man!" Warren mocked, holding Luke tightly. "You have the right to remain silent! Hands where I can see them!"

"Never!" Luke challenged, laughing loudly, clearly enjoying the joke. "I will not give in to you, Sillyka."

"Oh, then let's go again." Warren took a deep breath and threw the boy slightly in the air before catching him again, eliciting more laughter. "What now? I’ll only let you go with an apology!’

You watched them, the scene unfolding before your eyes like something you never imagined you would see. Your son laughing freely, sharing such pure happiness with someone other than you. Warren holding him in his arms felt... right. Like this was where Luke was always supposed to be.

The laughter escaped your lips before you could stop it. And when Warren and Luke looked at you, your laughter turned into something else—louder, looser, more genuine. Your eyes grew teary, but not just from laughter. The emotions inside you bubbled up in a way they didn’t know how to express, that you had kept locked away under lock and key deep in your heart for many, many years.

"No... don't look at me." You tried to contain your laughter, quickly wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "Keep going..."

"Mommy?" Luke frowned, his joy turning to instant concern.

Warren noticed the same and quickly put the boy down before approaching you. 

"Mommy, are you okay?"

You took a deep breath, blinking a few times to hold back the tears. "Yes, my baby... I am." You smiled, even though your voice shook a little. "I'm just happy." It was true. Partially, at least. "Can you go to the storage room and get me a tissue?"

Luke hesitated, still suspicious, but nodded. "Yeah." And then he left, looking back one last time before disappearing down the hallway.

The moment the door closed, the barrier you were trying to hold collapsed. A sob escaped your throat, followed by an uncontrolled sob. 

"I'm sorry." You buried your face in your hands, unable to stop the wave of emotion.

Warren's heart clenched, and before you knew it, he was kneeling in front of you, his arms wrapped around your shoulders in a firm embrace.

He didn't say anything. He just stood there.

Your face buried in his neck, your hands clutching the fabric of his uniform, feeling the heat of his body as you cried without reserve.

“I'm here. Shh..." Warren murmured against your hair, stroking your back in slow circles. "I'm here."

"I'm soaking your clothes…”

"Fuck it. I'll wash them when I get home."

He slid his fingers through your hair, brushing his lips gently against your temple, a silent gesture of comfort. Your breathing began to calm, still shaky, but less suffocating. You sniffed and pulled away slightly, staring at his face so close to yours. The way he looked at you... calm, steady. Like a beacon in the middle of your storm, guiding you back.

"I forget how incredibly perceptive he is." Your voice still cracked. "He always knows when I'm not okay. I can't hide anything from him."

Warren smiled weakly, running his hand over your wet face, brushing away the remnants of your tears with his thumb.

"You don't have to hide it from me either." He said softly, then leaned down, still on his knees, to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Don't hide anything from me." 

The door swung open. 

"Here, Mom! I got it." Luke came running back, holding the box of tissues. "Sorry I took so long. It was really highI had to grab a chair to get up. But I didn't drop anything." 

You let out a shaky laugh, accepting the tissues and opening your arms to him. Luke fit into the hug without hesitation. You looked at Warren over your son's head, his gaze full of gratitude.

 "Well... I guess I'll be going now." Warren mumbled, standing up slowly. 

"Where to?" You asked, grabbing a tissue and blowing your nose. "Leaving already?" 

"To the cashier. It's my turn." He smiled weakly, watching Luke grab another tissue for you. "Take care of your mom, okay?" 

"I'll do it." Luke nodded with the seriousness of someone who takes the mission seriously. He held the trash can for you to dispose of the tissues. "It'll be okay, Mommy." 

You smiled, tightening your arms around your son. "I know it will, my baby. Thank you.

" Warren took slow steps towards the door, almost hesitantly. You watched him go, feeling a tightness in your chest as you watched him walk away. 

"See you later." He paused for a brief second, turning just enough to look you in the eyes. 

"See you..."

…

Warren turned the "Closed" sign on the door, taking one last look at the street before returning to the cash register and writing down the day's records. You always dropped Luke off before five, so you'd be back soon. He wanted to get everything done early to make his job easier.

After reviewing the checklist, he went to his office and left the paper on his desk. When he returned to the cash register, he heard the door open and looked up in time to see you come in. You walked over to him with a small smile on your lips.

"You look happy." He commented, resting his hands on the counter.

"I just found the perfect dress for Daniel's wedding." You said, leaning a little on the counter. 

"When is it?"

"Tomorrow, Saturday."

You walked around the counter, stopping next to him. "Do you have an outfit yet?"

"I have that damn thing I wore on my first day here. Will that fit?" Warren asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and crossing his arms.

"It'll do. It's perfect." You replied, placing your hands on your hips. "I can't wait to show you."

 "The dress?" He raised an eyebrow, and you nodded. "I want to see it too. What color is it? No, wait... Isn't that bad luck?" 

"What?" 

"To know what the woman will wear on her wedding day." He explained, confused. You let out a laugh. 

"No, Warren." He blinked, waiting for the explanation. "That's only for the bride. You can know." 

"Oh... sorry. I've never been to a wedding before." He confessed, relaxing his arms. "Are you excited?" 

"Nervous." You admitted, leaning against the counter. "I don't know how I'm going to react." 

"I'll be there." Warren comforted. "Do I have permission to punch him if he messes up with Luke?" 

"Luke isn't going. It's at night. It starts at eight, but these things always take a while. I don't want him to stay up until the early hours of the morning." 

"So it's just going to be the two of us?" 

The question came with a subtle but noticeable tone of curiosity. 

"Yes." You nodded, feeling an unexpected nervousness grow in your chest. 

"Do you want me to pick you up?" He asked, and there was something else in his voice—a hint of expectation. 

"Yes, it's okay. I was just going to drop Luke off at his friend's house and come back to get ready." 

"Deal. I'll stop by at seven-thirty?" 

"Seven-thirty is fine." You nodded, crossing your arms. He held your gaze for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but he just smiled sideways.

"Shall we go out? It's closing time, and I don't want anyone knocking here." You changed the subject, walking to the door.

"Good idea." Warren grabbed his keys and followed you out, locking the store behind you.

Warren scanned the street, frowning slightly when he noticed one of the streetlights flickering, casting irregular shadows across the sidewalk. The silence of the night seemed to drag on with the cold wind.

"So... is it okay to walk home in this darkness?"

"Yeah, I always walk back after work." You answered matter-of-factly, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

He let out a short sigh, pulling the iron to cover the store window. "This isn't good."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as he locked the door. "Since when did walking two streets over become a problem?"

"Since always. Anyone can run into the wrong person." He turned to you, glaring firmly.

"No problem. If anything happens, I'll scream and run." You joked, shrugging.

Warren chuckled and shook his head before approaching. With his hands firmly on his waist, he tilted his face, his eyes assessing you up and down.

“Come on. I’ll take you.” You hesitated for a moment, but ended up nodding and starting to walk. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Going home?” You pointed to the end of the street.

“No. Get in the car.” He patted the hood of the vehicle twice with a half smile.

“It’s only two streets.”

“And I don’t know who’s coming around the corner. Do you know?”

“You’re so worried.”

“Baby, after you go to jail, even your neighbors are suspicious.” He joked, unlocking the doors. “Maybe you have your own criminal record and I’m here all by myself thinking I’m safe and sound.”

You smiled, getting in the car. “And what would my crime be?”

Warren started the engine and pulled out of the space, his eyes narrowing as if he was evaluating the response.

“Murder, for sure. In cold blood, plain daylight.” He teased, turning the steering wheel to enter the avenue. “Maybe poisoning.”

“And why?”

He gave you a quick glance before turning his attention back to the road.

“Because you have this innocent woman look, all pretty, cute eyes who make men fall in love at first sight… the perfect stereotype.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “When I least expect it, I’ll wake up in an ice bath.”

You gave a short laugh and lightly pushed his shoulder. “How awful, Warren. I’d never kill you.”

“I don’t know… what if one day I make you angry?”

He turned onto your street and parked in front of your house. The engine purred softly before being turned off. Silence filled the car.

“Then I don’t know…” you teased, biting your lip as you pretended to think.

Warren chuckled softly and shook his head. “See? That’s what I’m talking about.”

“See you tomorrow.” You said, unbuckling your seatbelt.

But before you could reach for the door handle, you hesitated.

“Warren.”

He turned to face you, leaning in slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was lower, as if he already knew what was coming.

You hesitated for a second, your gaze locked on his lips. Your heart raced as your bodies leaned almost instinctively toward each other. Your hot breath mingled in the small space between you. But at the last moment, you pulled back, looking away.

“Nothing…”

“Fuck, stop saying it’s nothing.” Warren grumbled, letting out a short sigh before unbuckling his belt and cupping your face with his warm hands, pulling you into an unexpected kiss.

The touch was intense, a mix of urgency and pent-up desire. Your fingers tightened the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer, opening your mouth for more of what you craved so much.

When you pulled away, a mischievous smile played on his lips. You smiled, still feeling his breath against your skin, your mouth damp from the trace of what had happened.

“Thank you.” You mumbled, trying to pull away, but he pulled you back, deepening the kiss without hesitation.

This time, you moaned against his lips and released his belt, seeking more proximity. Warren slid his hand under your shirt, pulling your waist closer and feeling the soft skin against his touch. His other hand went to the back of your neck, his fingers intertwining in your hair as the kiss grew more intense.

Time seemed to have stopped. You turned your body so that he had more access, your hand touching his face, the hairs of his growing beard prickling your skin, brushing against your chin. It stung, but it felt so damn good. When air became a necessity, you pulled away with a silly smile, your eyes shining under the dim light of the streetlamp.

“You’re very welcome.” Warren murmured, his eyes fixed on your mouth, his fingers lightly brushing your skin as if he still didn’t want to let go.

You smiled and looked away, opening the door.

“See you tomorrow, Warren.”

“Why?”

“I’m in front of my house.” You laughed softly.

Before you could leave, he pulled your hand and stole one last kiss.

“Just one more.” He murmured against your lips, sealing them once more. You smiled against his mouth before finally leaving.

Warren waited until you got in and closed the door to start the car. He licked his lips, capturing your trail. He frowned, smelling a strange smell in the air. Looking around, he decided to look at his pants and...

“Shit, Warren. What’s wrong with you?” He groaned in disgust, seeing his own situation. His jeans were darker, damp, soft. “I can’t believe this. One kiss! One kiss! I’m so fucked up. That’s the ending.”

Disgusted, he just decided to go home as soon as possible to resolve the outcome of the little moment between you. Even though he was uncomfortable with the sticky feeling between his legs, the satisfied smile didn’t leave his face.

And it didn’t leave throughout the entire night.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

DID YOU HEAR SHU SAID FUCK!!!!!!!

(in ren's 3d live)

I DID I DID I DID i didn't see the whole 3d bc i was in an important vsf call for important vsf things but i "stepped back" for four minutes so i could SEEEEEEEEE

[kaq3yma]

i'm thinking of soft-yandere winbre characters fanfic but idk who to pick 🤔 i have a few options though so rate this poll to help me decide keehee 😛🩷💚

[jeena-says-hi]

The two main things I’m hoping for the next season of the life seires are

A) Desert duo interactions

And

B) Treebark reunion and Ren says something like “Aye it be good to see ye again me Hand”

[bunnwich]

Hi...🥺👉👈

I hate to do this to you guys again, but I really think I do wanna make a separate more "personal" blog for my original story inspo and art. This new blog will also be for my personal writing, so I'll probably keep track of that and share tips/quotes, inspo, etc.

Follow @bunnwiches if you'd like to keep up with me there.

[wispselfships]

April 13th CANCELED I'm already married to My Guys™️ (My Guys™️ being Burgh, Asmodeus, Ren, and Mettaton <3)

[marchsfreakshow]

Lovingly Obsessed [Warren Lipka]

Smut.

Warren's taken you out of your comfort zone wayyy too much for your liking. But you find yourself strangely in love with it despite the stoner's weird way of showing you his adoration.

Warnings: car fucking, public sex, quick oral, dub-con (almost?)

AAAAA! I don't know this will sound so bad and ooc I'm so sorry. Just take it! Warren has invaded my brain once again.

18+! MINORS DNI

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

It was like he found a crevice your mind nothing had ever occupied before. And made a home. It was like he had made himself comfortable there, and never floated away. Reaching into your brain and finding the comfortability, whipping it away from you. Throwing it away forever.

Warren Lipka truly was a man you hadn't been friends with before. What you were used to was nerdy, untouched men, loving anime and DnD. Not a man who'd love to drag you to parties just to get drunk, high, then make out in a corner for the rest of the night. With the music beating harsh in your heart. On edge practically 24/7 since Warren would appear at your window during the night because he wanted a midnight drive. And possibly to get sucked off.

Despite it all, you were oddly endeared to the man. Letting your hate for risk-taking fade every time he snuck you out of the house, or kept you at his all night. The only time Warren gave you 'i love you' was when you were in the backseat of his car, gripping onto the seat and desperately riding him. His grubby, unloved nails digging into your skin. The little crescent moons becoming more obvious the more he moved your hips for you. Constant squeaks of the car barely covering your moans, whimpers. It definitely covered up his quiet, reserved groans, however. "J-jesus I love you..." He muttered into your neck, sticking tiny marks on the skin.

"I love...you as well.." Was your obvious reply, panting and whimpering as your thrusts got more humpy, car squeaks slowing and quieting down.

"No, baby don't slow down... c'mon..there you go.." The man under you coaxed you to start picking the pace up again. He murmered desperate, fumbling, fucks and your name over and over like he didn't realise you were really there. His name being screamed out only drove him further to dig and plummet himself into you. More than he had before.

Simply losing yourselves in the hot, small car. The lonely car in the summer morning at an empty parking lot. Maybe a car all the way over there. One just parking over here. Workers already hating their 5am start, just to walk past the car, refusing to take notice of you and Warren. Whispy air, thickening with every noise leaving you. "Knees...knees. Now." Warren murmered desperately. His hand replacing you as soon as you started to manuvere yourself between his legs awkwardly. Open mouth, wide tongue... like you'd done this before. "Fuck- fuck! Jesus Christ...ha-" Were the words rapidly leaving him as he tugged your mouth down, forcing you to take every drop of his come, and every inch of his cock.

"Alright you can get up now." He stated, still catching his breath from unceremoniously thrusting up into your throat. Awkwardly, you climbed back into the passenger seat, shuffling your trousers back on as more workers' car's filled the parking lot.

There was a comfortable silence for a bit, as Warren drove you two, somewhere. But the road started to look long and desperate. You found yourself asking a question you thought you'd never ask anyone. "Can we get high, then fuck in McDonalds bathroom?"

You were perfect for the stoner driving next to you. He simply nodded in response.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @coentinim / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47

[drystem]

couple of alters (info under cut)

Riley, He/It, Persecutor with a love for cyberbullying and gore

Illya, It/Its, One of our primary gatekeepers (the one who’s able to yeet people from front and/or lock it down)

Damien, He/Him, “Can’t kill yourself if ur too dissociated to move. checkmate asshole”

Ren-Beau, He/It, Host thats been frontstuck for the past almost 600 days

Hope, He/Him, c!Dream co-host (at 70 days of frontstuck)

[marchsfreakshow]

God...this series. Guys.

Please. I will hang this up on my wall as the best Warren Lipka fic ever because I genuinely cannot get enough of it.

I love it.

Everyone just know my husband is real and it's in the form of this fic series

Genuinely everyone go pray to gingerteafairy bcs...god...I actually just 🙏🙏💜💜💜💜

THE GREAT GUIDE FOR JAILBIRDS IN LOVE

warren lipka x fem!reader part one part two

summary: It had never been a secret, but now it was more than just imagination: Warren wanted to have a family, and if it depended on him, he would create the best one with you.

tags n warnings: language, implied intimacy. word count: 9.6k

A/N: this was supposed to be a (final) single chapter, but i had to divide it because it's really long, face it like the first part <3

Rule #8: Know How to Choose.

"Hey, kid. Did you like the lemon Pepsi?" Warren asked, his mouth full, chewing lazily as he crumpled the napkin between his fingers. He wiped some stray burger crumbs from his cheek before tossing the paper onto the table in a nonchalant flick.

"It's really good." Luke smiled, picking up a fry, biting off the end with slow, deliberate movements as if savoring the moment.

"Told you. Coke is overrated. Pepsi’s where it’s at, always has been." Warren raised his half-empty cup toward Luke before taking a long, relaxed sip. "Did you know Michael Jackson did an incredible commercial for this stuff?" He leaned forward slightly, eyes lighting up with enthusiasm, shaking the cup between his fingers like it was some secret treasure.

"Who’s Michael Jackson?"

Warren froze mid-sip. He blinked, his throat tightening as he swallowed quickly, eyes widening in disbelief. His brow furrowed, and his lips parted as if Luke had just uttered the most insane thing imaginable.

"Holy shit. Are you fucking serious, kid?" Warren slammed his cup down onto the table, the dull thud echoing in the quiet moment, his face a picture of utter disbelief. Luke opened his mouth to respond, but Warren held up a hand, his expression serious. "Sorry for the cursing, but come on. How do you not know who the King of Pop is?"

"I don’t know, I’m just not into pop music," Luke shrugged, reaching for his straw and taking another sip of his Pepsi, completely unfazed.

"I’m not a pop music guy either, and I love Michael Jackson," Warren clicked his tongue, pulling his phone out of his pocket, already starting to type with a sense of urgency. "I’ll show you some real music later. Damn, those kids nowadays…" A smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes locked onto the screen, his fingers swiping through playlists. "Even a guy like me has his moments and Smooth Criminal is fine shit."

Before he could find a song, Luke interrupted:

"Is it true you went to jail?"

Warren’s fingers froze on the screen, his heart skipping a beat. A chill ran down his spine, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to pause. His stomach tightened, and he blinked slowly, processing the question. Luke wasn’t looking at him with judgment or fear, just pure curiosity.

"At school, they said my mom was dating a guy from jail and you're the only man she talks to."

Warren slowly placed the phone down onto the table with a sigh that felt like it came from deep within his chest. He rubbed his eyes with his palms, his face tired, before clasping his hands together, letting them rest on the table in front of him.

"Yeah... It's true. I was there for a while, like 7 years or something like that." The words felt heavy in his mouth, more than he expected.

Luke leaned forward, his eyes wide with interest. "And what did you do to end up there?"

Warren hesitated, a dry, rough feeling crawling up his throat. He ran his tongue over his lips, the words struggling to form as the weight of the past seemed to hang over him. The silence between them thickened.

"I did some really bad stuff. Tried to steal something precious and important... ended up hurting someone in the process. It was a nightmare, I regret it with my soul," His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible, and for the first time in a long time, he held Luke’s gaze. The raw honesty, the unspoken understanding between them, felt like a crack opening in his chest, raw and real.

"Wow." Luke’s eyes widened, processing the gravity of what Warren had just confessed. He shook his head slightly, trying to grasp it all, and then, without any hesitation, said something that made Warren’s heart feel like it skipped a beat:

"But you’re cool, Warren. I don’t care what the other kids say about you. You're the best and they don't know anything about you."

Warren blinked, completely thrown off. The tension in his shoulders, which had been there since he walked in, seemed to loosen just a fraction. But deep down, something bitter and sharp flared inside him. Who were these little punks talking about him to Luke?

"Really?" He forced a smile, his voice a little tight, but his eyes—his eyes were already calculating how he could get back at the gossiping kids.

"Yeah." Luke said it matter-of-factly, his expression sincere. "I wish you were my dad. You'd be pretty cool and I bet my mom would be happy with this because she really loves you. She says that all the time."

Warren’s body went rigid, his muscles locking up as if the very air had changed. The hum of the food court around them faded into nothing. His mind raced to process the words. Did he just—

Luke didn’t just want a guy who showed up for the occasional burger. Luke didn’t just want someone who hung around now and then. He wanted a dad.

Warren’s chest tightened, but not with regret or guilt—no, this was something different. It was like something inside him clicked into place for the first time in forever. A small, flickering light ignited, and for the briefest moment, Warren realized he had value. He made a difference in this kid's life.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to snap back to reality, his expression softening into something far more uncertain than usual.

"Okay. I need to stop by somewhere," he said abruptly, standing up, grabbing a fry and shoving it into his mouth before stepping away from the table.

Luke jumped up, following him without hesitation. "Where are we going?"

Without thinking, Warren grabbed Luke’s small hand. He didn’t notice the way the boy squeezed back, but Luke did—and his fingers tightened just a little more, a quiet act of trust.

"You, kid." Warren turned, impulsively picking Luke up into his arms, making the boy burst into giggles. He moved quickly through the mall, weaving through crowds of shoppers, his footsteps steady as they approached a jewelry store.

Luke’s eyes went wide as they stopped in front of the store. "What?"

"You’re gonna help me pick something out for your mom. I’m counting on you, this is a serious mission and you're my best agent, you hear me?" Warren beamed, his voice unusually calm. 

Warren gently set Luke down before anyone could intervene. He didn’t want to risk being thrown out for making too much noise or knocking something over. Luke, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, blinked up at Warren, his face full of questions. 

"Seriously? What is it?"

Warren smiled, but there was something more in his gaze—something soft yet determined. "A ring. And you’re going to help me pick the right one for her since you've known her your whole life and I’m just the guy who came over to your lives."

He stepped closer to the display case, the soft hum of the store’s lights flickering above them. The glass was spotless, reflecting the sparkle of diamonds and colored stones in every hue. Gold, silver, platinum, and metals Warren couldn't even name. Everything was beautiful, polished, and meticulously arranged. He had a clear goal in mind, but even so, his eyes wandered over the choices—large stones, small stones, bright gems, delicate ones. His gaze finally stopped on three different models that seemed like they could be the right fit, something within budget, but with enough meaning to make it count.

“Alright. Between a big stone and a small one, which one do you think your mom would choose?”He turned to Luke, whose eyes were wide with wonder.

Luke furrowed his brow, striking a thoughtful pose, his chin resting in his hand as he leaned slightly to the side, deep in concentration. “She’d pick something smaller,” he said with a sure nod. “She does so much around the house, and she’s always complaining that she has to take her rings off so they don’t get in the way.”

Warren raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “Well thought out, kid.” He discarded one of the options, tossing it aside with a flick of his wrist. “Now, between gold and silver, which one does she like more?”

Luke grinned, full of confidence. “I like gold.”

Warren snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Not for you, smart aleck, for your mom.”

“But I like gold,” Luke insisted, “and I think it looks better on her.”

“Alright, alright. But if she doesn’t like it, the blame is all on you.” Warren let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head but unable to suppress a smile. 

The boy blinked, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, but he quickly regained his confidence. Warren let out a quiet chuckle before calling the attendant over to finalize the purchase. Luke watched intently as Warren signed the receipt with a theatrical sigh, as though he had just committed a crime.

“Man, that price just reminded me why I used to steal stuff…” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

"What?" Luke’s eyes went wide. “You still think about stealing?”

Warren let out a sharp laugh, snorting through his nose. “Nah, kid. I mean, sometimes it crosses my mind. But then I remember that jail sucks.” He shoved his wallet into his back pocket and picked up the small jewelry bag containing the ring.

“Is it really that bad?” Luke asked, his curiosity piqued. “In the movies, they rather die than live in a place like that.”

Warren stopped, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced up, trying to find the right words. “Worse than you can imagine. It’s like… school, but without being able to go home at the end of the day. And without the internet, everyone there is just looking for a fight. And you don’t have your mom around either, which is a huge downside 'cause we both love her.”

Luke wrinkled his nose in sympathy. “Wow. So, it’s really like school, but worse.”

“You’re not wrong. But at least at school, you get fries.” Warren chuckled, reaching over and ruffling Luke’s hair playfully. 

“True. I love school’s fries. They're the best part,” Luke agreed, his tone thoughtful. “Did you make any friends there?”

“Hmm… ‘friends’ is a complicated term.” Warren’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. 

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I ended up there with some of my friends. We did this together. My best friend Spencer was there, but we had some fights and it got weird, especially with Chas. He did well in jail, me on the other hand… Not so good,” He sighed, looking around the mall as if searching for an answer in the air itself. “Well, there are people there who’ll stick by you because they need to. It’s dangerous to be alone. But deep down, everyone’s really just looking out for themselves.”

“Then you never trust anyone?”

Warren turned his head to look at Luke from the corner of his eye. The question caught him off guard, and he paused for a moment before responding, his voice a bit quieter. “Depends,” he lit up. “I trust you. That's a lot coming from me.”

Luke’s face lit up with a wide smile, clearly pleased with the answer. It was small, but in that moment, something shifted in the air between them—a kind of understanding, unspoken yet clear, that made it feel like Warren was starting to feel like more than just a guy who’d walked into the boy’s life randomly. Maybe, just maybe, he was starting to feel like he could be the kind of person Luke needed.

They started walking through the mall, the buzz of people and the sparkle of store displays creating almost a magical scene. Suddenly, Luke grabbed Warren's arm, stopping him in the middle of the walkway.

“If you had a superpower, what would it be?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Warren laughed out loud. “You’re hitting me with that question now? Alright, let me think...” He struck an exaggerated pose, hand on his chin like a philosopher deep in thought. “Maybe stopping time or time travel. That way I could go back and undo a bunch of dumb things I’ve done.”

Luke scrunched up his face. “That’d be kinda boring. I’d pick super strength. No one would mess with me at school.”

Warren smiled, but his expression quickly shifted to something more serious. “Is someone messing with you?”

“Nothing major. But sometimes they say stuff about my mom… and about you.” Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “Some people just love to talk and it pisses me off. They almost suspended me after i punched one of those guys.”

Warren’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “Look, if that stupid boy Caleb kid is bothering you again, I swear to God…”

“It’s fine,” Luke quickly cut in, shaking his head. “But, if you had super strength, we could totally freak them out.”

“Nice try, kid. But you don’t need superpowers to teach those punks to show you some respect.”

 “So how do I do that?” Luke looked up at him, genuinely curious.

“Remember what I told you,” Warren recalled, placing a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Be smarter than they are. You don’t have to fight. Just show them that nothing they say affects you.”

Luke thought for a second, then a grin spread across his face. “Like you do?”

Warren hesitated, a brief flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. But then, he smiled. “Something like that.” Luke nodded, looking thoughtful. Then, he pointed to a nearby video game store. 

“Can we check that out?”

Warren raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I already spent a kidney on that ring, and now you’re trying to bankrupt me?”

 “I just wanna look! Promise!” Luke laughed. Warren sighed, defeated. 

“Fine. But if you start eyeing the consoles too much, I’m fucking dragging you out of there. Be aware, Lucky.”

“Yes!” Luke cheered, grabbing Warren’s hand and pulling him toward the store. “Now where’s the Mario session… Just for a look...”

Rule #9: Don’t Be a Coward.

Luke quickly got out of the car, rushing to the front door of the house with his eyes sparkling, barely able to contain his energy. His hands trembled with excitement as he grabbed the hidden key beneath the flowerpot and gently opened the door with a soft click.

“Mom!” He called out, his voice high-pitched as he sprinted through the hallway, heading straight for the kitchen where you were. You had changed into a more relaxed outfit, now far more at ease than earlier in the morning.

“Did you just get home?” Warren asked, his voice heavy with contained excitement, closing the door behind him and walking toward you.

You were standing with your back to him, in front of the fridge. He watched your every movement, the way you moved so naturally that it almost seemed like a dance between you two — a constant exchange of glances and synchronized gestures.

“I just got in a little while ago, took a quick shower, and came to grab something to eat. You guys must've had a snack at the mall, right?” You smiled, shutting the fridge door and crouching to hug Luke, who ran into your arms with a wide grin. His small arms wrapped around your neck with the intensity of a child completely overcome with joy.

“We had a huge burger!” Luke answered, jumping up in the air, his enthusiasm evident in every motion.

“Burger, huh?” You raised an eyebrow, the doubt and sarcasm playing in your expression as you glanced at Warren, who, with his hands raised in a mock gesture of surrender, wore an embarrassed smile.

“And what did you guys do there?” You slowly stood up, your fingers running through Luke’s hair, which caused him to look up at you, his eyes sparkling before returning your affectionate kiss on the top of his head.

“We went to the giant octopus, and Uncle Daniel was there. He seemed kind of sad, but then we went to eat burgers and drive around.” Luke spoke quickly, his eyes still wide with excitement as he relived the day’s adventure.

“Daniel?” The name came out abruptly, and your body tensed for a moment.

The smile that had once lit up your face faded, and you looked at Warren, who let out a muffled sigh, putting his hands in his pockets and briefly looking away. The silence between you two grew heavy, but you forced yourself not to show the tension that had started to build inside you.

“Yeah, he talked to Warren, but he said he was in a rush and left.” Luke explained, his childlike innocence leaving him unaware of the subtleties in the conversation.

You took a deep breath, relieved, but still left with a lingering unease in your chest. Your gaze turned toward Warren, a silent plea for a private conversation later. He nodded, understanding.

“Sweetie, go take a bath before bed. I’ve already prepared your water. I need to talk to Warren, okay?” You made a conscious effort to change the subject, turning to Luke with a smile. He looked at you with a slight pout, disappointed but not wanting to argue.

“Mom!” He grumbled, his body going limp in mock defeat, ready to begin his typical child’s drama.

“Luke.” You responded firmly but with affection, your eyes closing momentarily in a silent exchange that only the two of you understood.

He huffed, throwing his arms up in a theatrical gesture before heading toward the bathroom, his small, pudgy form walking slowly, his head hanging low with an exaggerated sense of irony in each step. You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, and when you turned back to Warren, the atmosphere felt a bit lighter.

“What happened at the mall? I know it wasn’t a friendly conversation.” You asked, walking toward him with a soft voice but persistent curiosity. The concern in your eyes was palpable, but there was also an underlying search for answers.

“Yeah, not really.” Warren replied with a tired smile, pressing his lips together in an effort to keep his emotions in check. His eyes wandered up to the ceiling for a moment before finally meeting yours. “He seemed off. I was listening to him ramble while Luke was at the octopus.”

“And what did you guys talk about?” The question slipped out easily, but as soon as the words left your mouth, Warren’s expression shut down, as if the weight of what he was about to say was too much to bear. He paused, his fingers lightly touching his pockets, and his posture became rigid, as if weighing each word.

“He was upset because he broke up with Honey,” he said, his voice quieter now, as though afraid that any other words would shatter the fragile peace between you two.

“They broke up?” You exclaimed, the surprise evident in every fiber of your being. You crossed your arms, brows furrowing in disbelief, and your eyes locked on his, trying to understand, trying to fit this new piece of information into the image you had of Daniel and Honey.

“Yeah, on the wedding day. We made a real mess of things.” Warren replied, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his voice laden with a tone of regret you knew all too well. You nodded, processing what he said before releasing a deep sigh, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you.

“That's crazy.” You murmured, your face softening, and your eyes met Warren’s.

Unintentionally, a smile tugged at your lips as you caught him lost in his own thoughts. The soft kitchen light reflected in his eyes, making them appear even more captivating, and for a moment, you couldn’t help but get lost in that gaze.

"Thank you for today." You spoke sincerely, the gratitude evident in the smile that accompanied your words. He responded with a slight nod of his head, his lips curling into a small but meaningful smile.

"It was nothing. I actually enjoyed spending time with him. He's a good kid, I got a lot to learn from him," Warren nodded, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes fixed on yours in a way that made you feel exposed, yet comfortable at the same time. "Hey... I wanted to tell you something, if it’s okay."

"Go ahead..." You blinked innocently, a gesture that, unintentionally, made Warren’s heart skip a beat. The question was caught in his throat, almost tangible in the air between you.

"Would you go out with me tomorrow? For... A date?" He asked, surprised, his voice laced with a subtle anxiety. His head tilted slightly as he waited for your answer. He seemed vulnerable, but the sincerity in his gaze made your response come easily.

"Go out?" You repeated, your eyes sparkling with excitement as warmth spread through you. Warren nodded slightly, his gaze locked on yours. "With you? Of course, Warren."

"Great. How about dinner? I know a fantastic place." He said, now more confident, his smile widening. He stepped closer to you, his body relaxing as he leaned slightly against the wall beside you, almost as if he wanted to envelop you with his presence.

"Dinner sounds perfect." You smiled, the tension in the air intensifying. You took advantage of the proximity, moving just a little closer, your shoulders brushing lightly against his.

Warren bit his lip with a mischievous grin, feeling the energy between you two grow. His free hand slid around your waist, his fingers grazing the skin just beneath your shirt. He leaned in closer, his breath growing heavy and slow, the patience almost torturous as the space between you both shrank. You took a deep breath, your lips slightly parted, anticipating the touch, your eyes fixed on his, waiting for the perfect moment.

"Mom, I can't find my shark." Luke’s voice cut through the building tension, causing both of you to break apart abruptly. The world around you seemed to return to normal, but the energy between you and Warren was still there, lingering in the air.

"I’ll be right there, sweetheart!" You shouted, trying to mask your discomfort with a firmer tone, though it sounded a bit awkward.

Your fingers subconsciously tightened around the fabric of your clothes, still feeling the warmth of Warren's touch. He lowered his head in embarrassment but chuckled softly, the sound of his laugh naturally breaking the tension.

"I… better go." He winked, running a hand distractedly through his hair, attempting to shake off his own embarrassment. He took a step back, starting to walk away, but not before casting one last look at you, almost challenging the silence that hung between you two.

"We’ll see each other tomorrow." You said, your voice soft but filled with anticipation. You opened the door for him, watching him as he passed.

"Rest up so we can catch up." He whispered, his gaze warm and full of promises before he leaned in just enough to steal a quick kiss on your lips. "I love you. Like, i fucking love you. For real."

You didn’t try to hide your smile anymore, intertwining your fingers with his. You leaned in for a more tender kiss, ending with one last light peck on his lips.

"I love you too." It was the answer you both had known from the first glance, but you were finally brave enough to say it first. Oh, how you wished you had said it sooner, stopped being so stupid. How Warren wished for the courage to say it. He felt grateful to be the one to say it first.

As he stepped back, he walked toward the car, his hands in his pockets and his heart still racing from the lingering tension between you two.

You watched him for a few more seconds, your gaze fixed on Warren as he walked away, until reality, like an abrupt tug, snapped you back. It was time to put Luke to bed, but in that moment, you wanted more than anything just a little more time to keep dreaming about Warren. Every thought seemed still soaked in him, like a mark left on your very dreams.

And that night, you dreamed of him. So many different scenes, but all intertwined, all summarizing to him, like a single movie playing on the screen of your mind. In the field, your head resting gently in Warren’s lap, the cozy checkered blanket wrapping you both as the flowers around you seemed to grow toward you, as if wanting to follow the calm rhythm of your breathing.

On the road, Luke singing joyfully from the backseat, his voice blending with the sound of the wind that messed up Warren’s hair, the sun setting and casting a golden light on his face and brown hair, the laughter in the air seeming to echo like music.

In a cozy café, at an intimate restaurant, in a welcoming bookstore. On a distant beach, at night, walking hand in hand along the shore, the wind tousling your hair, the salt and sand clinging to your bodies, and Warren lifting you in his arms, your dress floating, light as the breeze, laughing with you under the starry sky.

Your light laugh was inevitable as you slept, the sweet sound slipping from your lips, while the warmth of the night seemed too little compared to the dream unfolding.

The night felt far too brief, and soon, the day came, the soft morning light filtering through the window and invading your field of vision. It annoyed your eyes, forcing your body to wake from the cloud of sheets that felt like the same space where Warren had also laid. It was as though your senses were playing tricks on you, but you swore you could still smell him on the pillow, a lingering reminder that he had been there, beside you.

"Mom..." Luke’s voice woke you, sweet yet tinged with distress. You immediately sat up, worried, when you saw his watery eyes and red nose, and your heart tightened at the sight.

"My baby, what happened?" Your voice came out softly but hurried, filled with concern, as your fingers instinctively reached for his forehead. Your question was interrupted by a loud sneeze, and Luke quickly grabbed a cloth to wipe his nose, his face filled with discomfort. "Oh, sweetie..."

"Do I have to go to school today?" He asked, immediately following it with a strong cough, his voice hoarse and weak. A wave of worry hit you.

"No, sweetheart. We’re staying home today." You reassured him, the furrow in your brow deepening as you saw him cough once more. Your hand instinctively went to his forehead, feeling the heat radiating in waves. "Oh my God, Luke. You’re burning up."

"I feel all lazy and floppy and weird..." He whined, lazily leaning against you, seeking comfort. His small body nestled against yours, and your heart ached even more at his fragility. "Am I gonna die, mom?"

"No, Luke. You're not gonna die." You laughed softly, stroking his back, trying to comfort him with your calm assurance that everything would be okay. The warmth of his skin against yours made you feel even more responsible, as though it was your duty to protect him. "It’s probably just a cold. We’ll take medicine, rest, and if it gets worse, we’ll go to the hospital."

"Hospital?" He suddenly sat up, his eyes wide with fear, and the distress on his face deepened. He shook his head quickly, so full of fear that it seemed to overflow. "I don’t want to, Mom. I hate the hospital. You know how I hate that place. It smells so weird."

"I know, sweetie." You sighed, feeling the tightness in your chest as you stroked his damp hair. His body was relaxed against you, but his gaze still carried an edge of fear. "We’ll rest, okay? Mom will take care of you."

"Okay..." He cooed, still pouting, but he walked slowly back to his room, his small, exhausted body dragging itself with the slow pace of someone who had no strength left.

You sighed with concern, your hand absentmindedly running through your hair as you tried to gather your thoughts. The day didn’t seem ready to start, but it was time to take action.

You needed to message Warren to take care of the groceries while you prepared Luke’s tea and cold compresses to help ease his fever. You put your phone aside with a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing on your chest, and made your way to Luke’s room. When you entered, you found him tangled in the sheets, his small form nearly disappearing in the mess of blankets.

"Here, sweetheart. Drink this." You spoke gently, crouching beside the bed to help him sit up.

With a careful movement, you poured the medicine into the spoon, looking at him with affection. Luke opened his mouth, but then immediately scrunched up his face in a grimace of disgust, his expression making you smile faintly.

"Swallow it, Luke." You insisted, your voice firm but filled with patience. Luke whimpered, his body curling in resistance, but there was no way around this task.

"It’s horrible. Tastes like piss and I've never drank it." He complained, sticking out his tongue as if trying to expel the bitter taste just by moving it. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly inside, but you remained calm.

"That’s why I brought you tea." You responded with a soft smile, lightening the mood. With the warm cup in your hands, you handed it to Luke, who reached out to take the drink as if it were a refuge. He immediately brought the cup to his lips, relieved by the sweet taste, trying to wash away the bitterness from his mouth.

"Thanks." He murmured, his smile still shy but grateful as he handed the cup back to you.

You placed it carefully on the nightstand, your heart squeezing a little at how small and vulnerable he looked at that moment.

"Good, now lie down and let me put these compresses on your forehead." You added, watching him adjust himself in bed, pulling the blanket up with tired effort.

He snuggled in further, his expression one of wanting nothing more than the comfort of your arms, but you knew he needed to calm down first. With gentle hands, you placed the cold compress on his forehead, watching as he shivered slightly from the chill. He tried not to show it, but you noticed the discomfort, and soon he began to relax little by little, growing accustomed to the cold touch.

"You’re going to feel better really soon." You comforted, your voice soothing as you stroked his hair almost automatically.

"Promise?" Luke asked, his eyes hopeful, pulling the blanket up to his chin, seeking comfort in something beyond the fever and the weariness. His gaze, so innocent and fragile, made your heart ache.

You smiled, feeling an overwhelming need to do everything possible to reassure him. With a tender gesture, you leaned down and kissed his small hand, a sign of affection that, for a moment, seemed to heal more than any medicine ever could.

"I promise." You said firmly, the smile on your face showing that, despite your concern, you were there for him, ready to care for every little detail.

Two streets away, Warren quickly checked his message and returned to his work. The market was strangely busy that day, with people coming in and out to buy something or just to check the prices. Despite the higher customer flow, it was still easy to handle, even with just one person, and that made the day pass faster than he had expected. Though it was busier, he felt comfortable, focused on the tasks at hand.

When his shift finally ended, he made one last round of the store to ensure everything was secure. Then, he headed to the bathroom, where he swapped his work clothes for something more decent for the date, feeling a light but growing nervousness.

He splashed some water on his face and sprayed a bit of cologne, the sweet scent calming him down. He took the time to brush his teeth, thinking about the long distances he’d need to travel to get home, but it didn’t bother him. He knew that, in the end, everything would be worth it. With one final glance in the mirror, he adjusted his clothes and prepared for the moment that awaited him.

When he arrived at your house, he rang the doorbell, but what he hadn’t expected was for the door to be unlocked, with silence taking over the atmosphere. Odd, he thought. He looked around cautiously but still decided to go in, curious and a little wary.

Everything felt so quiet.

He quickly checked the kitchen, but nothing seemed out of place. Then, suddenly, he heard something almost inaudible: a sneeze. His smile appeared effortlessly, and, discreetly, he followed the sound. What he found was, without a doubt, the most adorable scene he could imagine.

Luke was fast asleep, completely tangled in the blankets, his head resting on your chest as if it were the most comfortable pillow. You were there too, also resting, a children's book in your lap, your head gently resting on Luke’s. The moment was serene, almost ethereal. Luke let out a soft sneeze, so adorable it made Warren’s heart skip a beat. The scene was so sweet and intimate that he couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction.

He moved closer silently, the softness of his movements contrasting with the warmth that began to fill his chest. He gently pulled the blanket up, covering both himself and Luke, careful not to wake them. Then, with a tender gesture, he kissed your forehead, the touch light and full of affection. Smiling to himself, he stepped back, detaching from the moment to ensure that the tranquility would be preserved. He turned off the light, leaving the room enveloped in an even deeper calm. With one last affectionate glance, he left the room, feeling a comforting sensation as if he were exactly where he was meant to be.

A little while later, your eyes began to slowly open, drawn by the irresistible aroma that filled your nostrils. The smell of freshly made food was delicious, warm, and comforting, but something felt strange. You didn’t remember putting anything in the oven before you started reading to Luke. Confused, you stretched, raising your arms above your head as a light shiver ran down your spine. With a sigh, you got up from the chair and made your way to the kitchen, your bare feet making almost no sound on the floor.

Entering the kitchen, your eyes quickly found Warren, who had a dish towel thrown over his shoulder, moving around with the ease of someone who already knew every corner of the house. He was placing the dishes on the table carefully, his movements graceful, as if each gesture was thought out, almost choreographed. The contrast between the tranquility of the scene and the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind made your heart beat faster.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Warren smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his face. He looked at you almost in admiration, taking in your sleepy eyes and messy hair, a sight that made him feel even more drawn to you. “It was hard to find these plates. You hide them very well. I’d even say you’re afraid of a certain thief.”

You felt a slight warmth rise to your cheeks, but quickly remembered what was happening. “Dinner…” The word escaped your lips, and your heart tightened. You walked toward him, your steps slow and heavy, feeling the guilt begin to form within you. “Oh, Warren, I’m so sorry… I…”

“I promised you dinner, so I made it,” he gently cut you off, his voice low and comforting, as if he already knew exactly what you wanted to say. In a tender gesture, he pulled your face toward him for a small, but affectionate, kiss on the forehead. “Actually, it wasn’t me. It was the restaurant. I don’t know how to cook, but you got the idea.”

“Why?” The question slipped out quietly, almost a confession of guilt. Your eyes couldn’t meet his directly. You felt a slight tremor in your hands as you stared at his face. Warren then tilted his head slightly to the side, his look sweet and understanding.

“You seemed like you needed it. And besides, I didn’t want to delay our date.” He spoke with such softness, his voice full of sincerity, that it made your chest tighten. With a discreet smile, he stepped away to take the meals out of the bags and set the boxes on the table. “I brought Indian, Chinese, Mexican… I didn’t know what you liked, so I brought everything.”

You blinked, speechless for a moment. His gesture was so simple, but so full of affection, that you didn’t know what to say. With a shy smile, you sat down at the table and picked one of the options. Warren did the same, settling across from you.

“Wow… I… I’m at a loss for words.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Warren beamed, grabbing his fork and beginning to dig into the food with gusto. “I like to see you smile.” He watched you for a moment, as if each of your movements were a small victory. Then, he changed the subject, not taking his eyes off of you. “Is Luke sick? He looks like Rudolph the red-nosed.”

“Cold,” you answered, swallowing a bite before looking at him with a thoughtful expression. “I dreamt about you last night.”

“You did?” Warren raised an eyebrow, amused by the direction of the conversation. The taste of the food seemed even more special now, the atmosphere around them becoming light and intimate. “And what happened in it?”

“Er... there were many things, but it was nice. I remember that in one of them, we were at the beach,” you said, taking another bite and feeling the flavor more intensely than you expected.

“I dreamt about you too,” Warren returned your gaze with a mischievous smile.

“Really?” You smiled, excited and more interested than you wanted to admit, curiosity taking over you. “What happened in your dream?”

“Well, it’s not as elaborate as yours. You were wearing way less clothes in this kitchen.” He laughed, the sound of his laughter light and spontaneous, making you laugh along. His smile was so genuine that you rolled your eyes, feeling a wave of growing affection.

“You’re unbelievable.” You laughed, taking a sip of the water he had left next to you on the table, savoring the ease of the conversation and the closeness of something deeper between you two.

Warren looked at you with his eyes locked on yours, and suddenly, he asked, as if it were the most natural thing, but with an intensity that made your heart race:

"Will you marry me?"

You almost choked on your water, your throat tightening as your eyes widened. The glass stopped halfway to your mouth, and for a moment, your mind just froze.

"What?" Your voice came out hoarse, a mix of surprise and disbelief.

On the other side of the table, Warren leaned back in his chair, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his lips. His eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement, as if he were testing your reaction.

"Nothing." He quickly backpedaled, shrugging his shoulders as though he hadn’t just said something monumental. You blinked, trying to process what had just happened, before letting out an incredulous laugh.

"Oh, so you did say it."

Grabbing a napkin, you absentmindedly wiped your mouth, still recovering from the shock. Your heart was beating a little faster, but you weren’t about to let him off that easily.

"Say it again." Your voice was firm, but there was a playful smile at the corner of your lips, challenging him.

"No." He responded with his mouth full, a laugh escaping between his teeth as he chewed. He quickly grabbed another bite of food, as though doing so would stop him from saying any more nonsense.

"Warren!" You exclaimed, your voice a mix of amusement and mock indignation.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending not to understand while looking around, as if you were speaking to someone else.

"Do you want me to wash the dishes, babe?" He suddenly asked, standing up from his chair and grabbing the empty plates, clearly trying to change the subject.

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him. "No, I want you to say again what you said earlier."

Warren paused for a moment, his lips curling into a half-smile before letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Hm... I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling." He replied, walking to the sink with the plates. But the way his shoulders were slightly tense, and the corner of his mouth still tugging into a smile, made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. You slowly got up, crossing the kitchen and stopping beside him.

"So you just throw that out there and pretend nothing happened?"

Warren glanced sideways at you while turning on the faucet. "Throw it out there? Me? No, no, I’m a very serious guy. I never throw things out there."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could retort, he leaned his head towards you, his eyes still full of amusement.

"But..." He continued, his voice now softer, distracting himself from his nervousness by soaking the sponge in soap. "If I had said it, would you have said yes?"

Your heart skipped a beat. He was joking, but there was something hidden in his casual tone. You stared at him for a moment, defiant.

"Why don’t you try again and find out?"

Warren let out a nasally laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, now I’m getting nervous. Look at me, a tough guy, getting cornered in the kitchen. This is your job, you know? Make my dream come true and sit on this counter, okay?"

You laughed, giving his shoulder a playful shove. "You're a damn coward."

He leaned a little closer, and the scent of soap mixed with a woody cologne filled the air between you.

"Are you challenging me, princess?" He murmured, the smile still there, but his eyes darkening slightly.

The atmosphere in the kitchen shifted. The playful banter was taking you both to a different territory. "Maybe." You replied, feeling the tension between you both increase.

Warren held your gaze for a moment before letting out a theatrical sigh, licking his lips as if he were pondering something.

"Then... if I repeat it, will you stay quiet, not say a word, and just say yes?"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms with a playful smile. "Say yes to what, Warren?"

He smiled, shaking his head as though about to do something ridiculous. He took a step forward, his eyes gleaming in a new way, and pulled a small box from his pocket, spinning it between his fingers before slowly opening it, as if confirming that this moment was truly happening.

"Fuck. Do you, like... wanna marry me or something?" He murmured, his voice slightly hesitant, as if he were saying the most important words of his life in the most casual way possible.

The ring, chosen with Luke, gleamed inside the box, and your heart skipped a beat.

But instead of responding immediately, you let out a laugh. "What kind of proposal is that?"

Warren rolled his eyes, snapping the box shut in a quick motion and stuffing it back into his pocket, already regretting saying anything at all.

"Forget it," he grumbled, running a hand over his face and looking away, as if wishing the ground would swallow him up.

"No, Warren," you laughed, gently cupping his face in your hands to make him look at you. But before you could say anything, he was quicker, pulling you into a kiss by the back of your neck.

The kiss started slow, but soon grew in intensity, fueled by the moment. His hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, holding you tightly as if afraid you'd slip away. Your body molded against his, your hands slipping into his hair, tugging slightly as the kiss deepened.

When he pulled away just slightly, his gaze was full of hope. He was looking for something in your eyes, something he already knew, but needed to hear.

His breath was still shaky when you murmured, your voice thick with emotion, "I didn’t imagine you’d ask me to marry you like this, all messy. My hair looks like a net and I'm sure I got Luke's cold." You laughed softly, feeling the tears threaten to rise, mixed with the overwhelming happiness of the moment.

Warren smiled, his lips trembling as much as yours. "That's when I think you're most perfect," he whispered, his thumbs gently caressing your face. "Now can you please just say yes or no? There's a guy here about to die."

The sparkle in his eyes made your heart ache.

"Yes, Warren." Your voice was steady, filled with certainty. "Yes, a million times yes."

Before he could react, you jumped into his arms, and Warren quickly held you, burying his face in your neck. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, his heartbeat thudding against yours. For a moment, it felt like time had stopped.

When you pulled back a little, a thought crossed your mind, and you couldn’t resist the playful jab. "But you're going to propose without even asking me to date you first?"

Warren scoffed, rolling his eyes with a crooked smile. "You're dating a guy with a criminal record, what did you expect?"

You laughed, but he didn’t give you time to respond, grabbing your face with both hands and squishing your cheeks into a forced pout before sealing your lips with a quick kiss.

"That's right, I forgot about that," you teased, and he took the opportunity to shower your face with kisses, giving lingering pecks on your cheek, forehead, and chin.

“Hey, Warren.” You called, and he stopped the kissing session, tilting his face to look directly into your eyes.

“Yeah?”

You grinned, biting your lip slightly before letting out in a mischievous tone: “Do you want to skip a few more steps and consummate the marriage in my room?”

Warren raised an eyebrow, taking in your words before letting out a low laugh. He ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes darkening slightly as he studied you.

“You're the boss, sweetheart.”

His smile grew as he held your waist, already preparing to fulfill his promise.

…

“I lied about dreaming nonsense about you.” Warren broke the silence, his voice hoarse and dragged out, his fingers absentmindedly playing with your hair. His head rested on the pillow, while yours lay on his chest, feeling the warmth of his bare skin and listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

“Then, what did you dream about?” You slowly lifted your head, your eyes searching for his in the dim light of the room. 

Warren hesitated for a second, his lips curving into a soft smile as if gathering courage. “Actually, I think I’ve been lying this whole time.” The way he said it made your heart skip a beat. You gently slid your fingers across his chest, a gesture that made him close his eyes for a brief moment before continuing.

“I’ve dreamed many nights about you. About everything.” He began, his hand slowly trailing down to your back, pulling you into a tighter embrace, as if he wanted to hold on to the feeling of having you there. “I dream so much… I couldn’t even tell you everything.”

You gave him a small smile, leaning in to kiss his chest. “We have all night.”

Warren’s laughter vibrated against you as his fingers traced a lazy path over your skin. “True... But won't Luke wake up with all this noise?” He asked, raising his head slightly and glancing toward the door, as if the little boy might suddenly appear there.

“No. He took anti-inflammatories; he’s sleeping better than we are.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. 

“We’re not really sleeping, you know.” Warren winked at you before leaning in, giving you a quick, playful kiss. “Then I’ll consider your case.”

“Thanks for the consideration.” You murmured, laughing softly before stretching to steal another quick kiss. His hands slid to your waist, holding you firmly as he deepened the kiss slightly, as if savoring every second before releasing you again.

There was a brief silence, only filled by both of your breaths, before Warren whispered, almost like a secret: “I love you."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face, your fingers tracing a soft path along his jawline before brushing his cheek. Your heart was overflowing, and you didn’t hesitate for a second before responding:

“I love you.”

You leaned in, placing a kiss on his forehead—a gesture you often did with Luke, but with Warren, it felt different. Special. Warm. A kind of protection in reverse, where, instead of you holding him, it was him who carried all the bad things so you could be free.

Warren closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing that, before opening a lazy smile.

“So… the dream?” You teased, reminding him.

He blinked a few times, coming back to reality, and laughed softly. “Oh, right, I almost forgot, looking at you like this, so fucking cute without your clothes. I got distracted.”

"Cute?" You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended, but he only smiled playfully, tightening his grip around your waist before sliding his hand up your arms in a gesture that seemed to warm your skin, as if his touch alone could make you feel safe and at ease.

"Alright, alright…" He sighed, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he seemed to drift into his own memory. "I had this specific dream about a week ago."

You shifted a little more comfortably on the pillow, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I'm listening."

Warren took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling for a moment as if searching for the right words. "I was with you, in the market…" He paused, letting his voice trail off for a moment, lost in the vividness of the dream. "Then I just turned to you, and I knew that if I pushed a little more, if I went a little further, I could have you."

His words hung in the air, and for a brief second, it felt as though the world outside of that moment disappeared, leaving just the two of you in your own bubble. You waited, feeling his breath deepen as he continued.

"Then you looked at me. Really looked, deep into my eyes, the way you do when you're happy."

A soft smile crept across your lips, and you tried to mimic the look he described, tilting your head slightly as you gazed back at him. "Like this?"

Warren let out a small, amused laugh through his nose, turning slightly to look at you better, his eyes narrowing with that warm, fond expression. "Exactly like that."

His voice dropped to a near whisper as he continued, his eyes far away, almost like he was reliving the scene in his mind: "And everything around us started to glow. I got closer to you, and suddenly, everything felt so light, like I could have anything, like I could have you."

The way he spoke, with such a soft tone, a slight smile playing on his lips, made it clear he was lost in the memory of that moment, his words painting a picture of something far beyond just a dream—it was almost like he was describing a reality that was so vivid, it seemed to blur the lines between sleep and waking.

"Then I asked if you wanted to be mine forever. If you’d let a guy like me into your heart."

Warren let out a small laugh, shaking his head, as if embarrassed by the rawness of his confession. "And you said yes. Then I woke up." His expression shifted, becoming more serious, almost wistful. "I never wanted to wake up from that day."

You bit your lip, feeling a tightness in your chest as your heart swelled with emotion. Slowly, you reached up and placed your hand on his shoulder, your fingers tracing the outline of his dinosaur tattoo, still there as a reminder of a younger version of Warren—before everything, before this moment.

"But you woke up." You murmured softly, your fingers brushing against his skin, feeling the pulse beneath. "And you’re here with me now."

Warren took a deep breath, as if absorbing the weight of your words, and gently held your hand over his, locking your fingers together. "Feels like a dream," he whispered, his voice hushed and full of wonder. "Actually, I think it's better. I can touch you. I can feel you. It's better than anything else."

You smiled, feeling your heart melt with affection. If this was a dream, you never wanted it to end. "So, what song do you want to walk down the aisle to?"

"Isn't it just the bride who gets to choose?" He teased, his fingers lightly tapping against your skin, the playful glint in his eyes still there.

"No, you can choose too," you replied, laughing, running your hand affectionately over his chest. "And the bride's song isn't always the same, you know. It can change. But I wanted to know about yours."

"Hmm…" He thought for a moment, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "I think I’ll go with Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson."

"Wow, really?" You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his choice.

"I don’t know," he shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Just felt like it…" He leaned down and kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a brief moment, as if sealing that playful thought into something more real.

Extra Tip: Appreciate the Little Things.

Your eyes slowly began to wake up, adjusting to the soft morning light. A warmth enveloped you, and a spontaneous smile spread across your face when you noticed Warren’s arms wrapped securely around your waist. He hadn't left—you could feel the solid presence of him behind you. He had stayed, and it made you nestle back deeper into the sheets, savoring the warmth of being close to him.

"Warren?"

Luke's voice broke the peaceful moment, making your heart almost leap out of your chest. You shot up in bed, pulling the blanket up to cover you, panic setting in for a brief second.

"Mom? What’s Warren doing here?" Luke's voice was filled with curiosity, and it made your pulse quicken even more.

"Shhh!" You frantically motioned for him to be quiet, quickly glancing to your side to check if Warren had woken up from the noise. Nothing. He simply rolled over, mumbling something unintelligible in his sleep.

"He slept here," you explained, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible.

"I didn’t even get to talk to him." Luke pouted, stepping closer, but you immediately raised your hand, signaling for him to stop.

"Wait outside, son. Mommy needs to get ready to make your breakfast, okay?" You whispered urgently, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

"But why is he sleeping in your bed?" Luke furrowed his brow, suspicious. “I don’t sleep on your bed!”

You blinked a few times, mentally scrambling for a quick explanation. "He... um... lost at rock-paper-scissors."

Luke narrowed his eyes. "You guys played rock-paper-scissors to decide where he’d sleep?"

"Yes! Now go to the living room and close the door." You smiled awkwardly, trying to keep the situation light.

"Okay," he shrugged, still looking doubtful, and slowly headed out, closing the door quietly behind him, as if he might catch you two in the act.

"Thank God." You sighed in relief, rubbing your face.

"I told you he’d find out about us," Warren's muffled voice from the pillow startled you once again, causing you to jump in surprise.

"Were you awake all this time?" You shot back quickly, and Warren shook his head, eyes still closed.

"I was startled when Luke appeared, but I’ve learned how to play it off." He yawned, stretching lazily before sitting up.

"Damn it. I need to get ready; he almost saw us like this," you muttered, walking over to the wardrobe to grab a change of clothes. Warren stretched again, scratching his head as he picked up his clothes from the floor. "How do I look?" You asked, gesturing to yourself after getting dressed.

Warren stepped closer, giving you a warm, affectionate look before answering. "You look great. I just won’t kiss you because I probably have horrible morning breath."

 "Good to know you’re aware." You laughed, shaking your head.

Both of you left the room, heading straight to the kitchen. Luke was already sitting on the couch, watching something on TV. You grabbed a few things from the fridge and noticed Warren sneaking up behind you. He placed a soft kiss on your neck before moving toward Luke.

"Hey, champ, did you sleep well?" Warren asked, ruffling Luke’s hair affectionately.

Luke grimaced and pulled away. "I did, but you should brush your teeth before talking to me."

You had to stifle a laugh as Warren placed a hand dramatically over his chest, feigning indignation.

"Wow, man, you’re really crushing my self-esteem first thing in the morning," he joked.

 "I’m just being honest." Luke laughed and shrugged.

Warren sighed playfully and looked at you. "See? This kid’s already picking up your sarcasm."

You smiled, watching the two of them playfully banter. That scene—so small, so everyday—made something inside of you warm. The sound of laughter at breakfast, the light teasing, the ease of having someone by your side.

How much you needed that.

How much you needed Warren Lipka.

[stinkrascal]

i should make an edit for my tarnished and ranni yes i think i should

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